I was sleeping so fucking well. And... not sure much the last few days. I'm hoping if I can just make a couple more days, it'll get better.

I do ok during the day, but as soon as I get home, I start feeling wretchedly ill and my head feels like a mellon that's gone POP!.

I have to buy a new phone.

I lost my phone.

here you are down on your knees again.

I'm down on my knees.

I'm going to get this story published.

I have two literary agents interested in me.

I have to write an essay on why I should be published.

I have 250 words.

Luckily, they haven't asked for an abstract of the novel yet.

Which means I should get more written, and editted... somewhat so when they do ask, I'll have something for them.

Oh boy.

my lovely mandyjalo gave me this:
"Leave me a comment saying 'Resistance is futile'

* I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can satisfy my curiosity.
* Update your journal with the answers to the questions.
* Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions


1. What traits do you think you inherited from your parents?
I inherited a complete no bullshit, somewhat emotionally removed attitude from my mom(though I think I stick to it more than she does). I inherited my silliness from my father, no doubt. I embrace it more than he does.
I inherited my (lack of) height from both my parents. I rock it more than either of them ^_________^
2. What is the drunkest you have ever been and what ensued as a result?
Oh dear, when I was 18 I went to a party at a new acquaintance's house(strike one, against my better judgement) where I only knew a few people (strike two), and downed two huge cups of jungle juice with about 5 different kinds of alcohol in it including everclear (strike three) and a shot or two of whiskey shortly thereafter, not long enough for the jungle juice to completely hit me (strike four), all on only 4 bites of caesar salad in the previous day or two (strike five). I wound up... all over the place, evidentally. I made out with who knows how many people, and evidentally hollered at a large black man from Trenton to get out of my seat- at this point, after the shots, I was completely blackout drunk. I'm told that several people had to carry me to a back room to pass out, where i proceeded to start convulsing. The whole place was ALL SORTS of illegal, so the cops weren't called. Someone ran to get someone else who was allegedly an EMT to keep an eye on me; that someone else turned out to be Richie.
3. How do you think you have changed since high school, if at all?
Oh lord, I'm more confident ( most of the time), I'm better dressed, more no bullshit, more independent (if that's possible), and definitely more motivated.
4. If you could retire right now, how would you spend your time?
On the water. And riding horses. Maybe riding horses on the water.

5. Do you have a personal mantra you say to yourself in tough times and what is it?
"Three day rule. three day rule."-aka is it gonna matter in three days?
"One more day to go." akaYou're always a day away/Afterall, tomorrow is another day
"I can always get wasted tomorrow, if I just make it through today."

I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long.

I remember vaguely what it feels like to post in eljay. but it's distant.

I remember vaguely what it feels like to emote, to effuse, to indulge in sweet sweet enveloping emotion, familiar and protective as three layers of comforters at 5 am on a snowy morning.

I feel like I've intellectualized the last 6 months; in a 180 from the past I've given myself the time, but made no productive use of it. I feel like I let myself feel for about 3 days and used what "makes sense" to push on, while still blithely going through the motions of 'dealing'. With the exception of moments here and there, I don't feel like I've had the real breakdown that comes with grieving, over anything.

Conversely, I feel like a totally new person, that I don't recognise. It's like, my handwriting is the same, my habits... don't exist, and there's someone in Sarah's body. I haven't dissociated exactly, it's more like I haven't grown into this new body. But I'm not sure how to grow into this body. I don't entirely dislike the way in which I've been working on growing into said body, but it's highly unfamiliar. In fact, I'm pretty excited. But I get frustrated, 'cause I'm a fumbling bumbling awkward mess. A gangly teenager of 12 or 13 who just went through a massive 6 inchand shoe size and a half growth spurt or so and can't figure out how to get one foot in front of the other without tripping.

Ron Weasley, if you will, with better hair and skin.

A 13 year old with better hair and skin.

This body didn't have to go through all the unpleasantness of puberty. But most.

Mostly, I'm frustrated, and I feel disconnected, 'cause I'm not sure how to connect on this new level, or in a new way, or.... something I don't know how to do.

pour salt into the open wound...
is it over yet?

my eyelashes are almost gone.

once again, i feel... like a 5th wheel. which isn't the absolute end of the world; i truly enjoy the people i spend my time with- it's for the most part comfortable. but when they pair off and are making kissyfaces, i miss that comfort. i miss having arms wrapped around me. it just highlights how lonely it is. But also, I feel... stronger and more proactive when I'm alone. But I don't... want to relegate myself to being the most function and at my best when i'm alone for the rest of my life. I life having someone there to hold my hand, to tell me it's ok when I'm unsure of myself.

My stomach is rejecting everything i put into it, and i've spent way too much money this weekend.

the screen door slams
Mary's dress sways.
Like a vision she dances across the porch
as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singin' for the lonely
Hey, that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again

2 down. How many more?

you're my vision, baby


i'm going to bed.

Would you know my name
if I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
if I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong and carry on
And I know I don't belong
here in heaven

The world's exploded. I'm something that I don't know what it is. my thoughts are fragmented, i'm essentially homeless for the time being. I'll be off the fucking walls for a few days, not being able to shut up and wound so tightly I'll pop any second. Mostly, I'm agitated and walking around with a healthy seeth going for me. Then, crash. and numb. and death. or, zombie-fied. either way, i'm not really sleeping. right now, as of this moment, i don't... i don't have the wear-with-all to care about being worthless.
i'm still taking babysteps. which is the most i can speak for right now.

that's all I've got for update. next time i can get to a computer, we'll see.

I don't know anything anymore.

I'm a fucking wreck. I'm the area's resident homeless. My anxiety's getting the better of me. I desire a chemical resolution of the non-alcoholic nature.

Also, a shower.

I never thought i'd be drunk off of just two glasses of boxwine. But the two day old empty stomach may be party to that.

Listless. Again.

I'm really kindof upset, and surprised at how upset, I am at how long it took me the kind of job Dan and I talked about. The fact that a steady, stable, solid paying job with regular hours and wages that don't vary based on my mood. The fact that i couldn't do this, and be home at a regular hour relaxed and DONE with work, at the same time every night so I could really enjoy my time with my sweetpea. That's really my one regret. I gave into big, greedy eyes at the idea of making enough money to support him that I sacrifiec a chunk of our relationship.. time with him, for it. I became enamored at the idea of at least partially support him, when he needed me. of being there, ready and able, when he neded me.

listless.


i'm feeling extra EXTRA ambitious about my life, but once again ,i get ahead of myself. Either way, I'm gonna be in skool for a LONG time.

let's finish degree #1 first, THEN conquer the world.

I ripped my favorite dress today.

I miss Boston. I want something new, but not *that* new.

I miss feeling safe.

I miss spinning.

I'm already falling into doldrumroutine, and the alleged routine just started.

Time to shake things up.

First (baby) step or two towards giving my life some real meaning.

I decided that, while freedom is nice, I need to put my energy towards something that's gonna really help someone else.

In high school, I had the opportunity to participate in a youth group through Amy's church. We spent most of our time talking about the hell that is being a teenager, and the rest of the time and energy we focused on planning service projects for various groups in need. The church also provided tutoring for us, if we wanted.

Having that outlet for my energy, and realising so early just how good it feels to help someone else, no matter how sucky things seem, someone else has it worse. It also makes it impossible to dwell, or possibly make things worse. However, I don't believe I would have had that opportunity had it not been for my connection through Amy.

I decided that I'm gonna construct something similar, but have it open to middle and high school aged kids in Mercer County. I haven't decided if it will be beneficial to split that into two factions of the group, for a couple different reasons, but that's semantics I don't have to get into right now. I have a plan forming in my head, and I'd love if I could turn this into something I can do full time, but for the next several years, it'll be a side project.

I've tried to contact the youth group leader I had back in high school, but it turns out he's no longer in the state. Instead, the Pastor's son is running the youth group now, and I'm gonna volunteer my time and learn from Dan Egan and really get my hands wet in the whole process, how running a similar organization works.

This is both focus and direction for my life, and it's cathartic.. therapeutic. If I can get just a small group, even 10 kids from all around the county, who come by now and then, and I can mean something ot them.... jeez, that would mean the world to me.

look at me, i'm a fucking wreck. i can't sit still, let alone close my eyes to sleep. my thoughts are RACING, but I feel... so clear, and i'm agitatedc and aggravated that I can't do a damn thing about any of it right this second except rant and rave and vent. I'm a nervous wreck. I console myself by contorting into faces and tensing up and fidgeting and the fact that I really am doing all that I can, but it's just not enough. I'm so much better than "good enough"

So take care what you ask me
'Cause I can't say no to you

Three years ago, two years ago, these words... precarious as they are, were everything to me. I felt safe. There's no safety anymore. Voldemort is coming.

DOOMM/u> I tell you!

DOOOOOM!

A shapeless, slithering, inhuman figure to suck the life out of humans.

More like a dementor, really.

Wow, I'm a geek.

"Marvolo, REALLY?"

...ten minutes later



Courtney, from three rooms away:"Geek geek geek, nerd nerd nerd, dork, AHHHH!"


I feel 35.

I. HATE. SAUERKRAUT POWERWASHING!


ps, cell's out 'cause i'm teh brokez0rz. call scott's house @ 758.3170

Where's home?

Someone asked me this a few months ago, and while I wanted the answer for her to be with U/us, I knew what she meant and sympathised with her. The last couple of months have been so hard, because... I don't have home anymore. There are a few places where my heart is, but nothing that solidly gives me that solace at the end of the day. And that is the most painful thing ever for me, because... home is people. Home has always been people to me, and I don't have a person to call home anymore. I don't have someone to come home to anymore. And for the first time in months, it's making me appropriately sad. Actually, it's always made me sad, I just feel it with the appropriate intensity for the first time in forever. I'm sitting here, with tears just... streaming down my cheeks, and they're prolly streaked greasy black because of the heavy eyeliner i put on earlier. This is the sort of sobbing I can't just plan. Like the other day, I was upset on my way to 6flags, and blared Dresden Dolls on the way and belted with as much vigor and energy as I could muster and about a quarter into the song, I just started sobbing and kept singing and at first, I could still get words out then it because harder and harder until i made myself sober up so I could continue driving.
But It's really the hardest part about all of this. The hardest to accept. And I know it's stupid, but I still feel so alone. I went out today, in prolly the largest group I have in months, and I realised towards the end of hte night that... I was the 7th wheel. Everyone else was paired off. And not that I'm usually concerned with being "paired off" for the sake of it, but it does get lonely. I miss having that hand to hold, so so much. I miss having someone tell me that they love me every single night of my life, making sure that I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Someone who will wrap their arms around me, and tell me when I'm being an idiot, and love me for my silliness and want the same things as me and I just miss knowing that that person is as absolutely crazy about me as I am about them, three years down the road. I want to know that I can have a relationship longer than 3 years without killing them. I FUCKING want to know that I can make future plans without someone going away somehow. I crave reliability. And I had someone whom I believed when he said he wasn't going anywhere.
I had home.
And....not anymore. I had my mother's house that's disgusting and needs to be closed off. I have my mother's other place, in which... I feel unwelcome. I have my father's house, which makes me miserable long term. I have my previous residence, which makes me miserable. And I'm terrified of what will happen no matter where else I go.
I just want that stability. I hate not knowing. I hate jumping around. I spent so long choosing on my own to do that, running. Now that I want it, now that I want to stay in one place with one job and one life... a real life, I can't seem to keep hold of it once I have it.





Rob Thomas says what I can't.