I haven’t been on here in a million years because all I do is work and school and it’s really hard to tumble when the computer you sit at all day is visible to nearly every walk-in that comes through the door. I’m not afraid of people judging the nudies that pop up on my dash; I just don’t want to lose my job because of it. I still need as much money as I can possibly get.

I feel like this summer could be good. Even just seeing everybody last weekend helped me feel reconnected, which is something I’ve needed lately. I need to socialize. I need to get out more.

I walk into the Center for my one shift a week and I can’t help but get exhausted. Part of me doesn’t want to go back in the fall. Part of me knows that I need to. Chances are, I will. They’ll need me. I’ll need them. It’s that whole symbiotic relationship kind of thing, you know.

I’m so frustrated lately because I’m so ready to be my goal weight. People keep telling me how good I look and how much happier I seem and how much better I look in my clothes… but I just can’t accept it. Not yet. And it’s not like getting down to my goal is going to be some breakthrough event or something. I just want to know that I can do it and that my body is capable of it. I want to know that I can still be as pretty as I was in high school. And until I get there, I’m going to brush off or shy away from any compliment that’s given to me. I feel like i can’t help it, and for anyone I’ve possibly offended, I’m sorry. This is just something  I need to do for myself. Once I know I can, I’ll be able to listen to all of you again. You’ve helped me through so much already, and I can’t thank you enough for it.

I feel like I might be the only one who’s ready to get out of here. I’m stoked about turning 21 and completing senior year and going through all the ceremonies and stuff, but I’m more excited, I think, about actually being in the real world. I know that terrifies most people but god… I can’t wait to not have a desk job and get out here and start proving myself “for real.” I’m ready to be a leader again, and I’m so tired of the routine that just seems to accompany college life. I’m ready to grow and advance and achieve and succeed and make a difference. Sure, I can do that here, but I can only get so far in the world of glorified academia.

Other thoughts for the night?? Um… I’ve started having a “healthy” obsession (pun intended) for organic food. I think I’ve been to EarthFare three times in the past week and I’m proud of myself for finally getting in there and getting jazzed about “real food.” It was intimidating a few years ago to walk in. It was very overwhelming. Now everything in there is awesome and I can understand what the labels and stuff mean. I think right now, the kids cereals are my absolute favorite.

My cat is still as cute as ever. He’s big now. And on nights like this where it’s rainy and gross, I’m so glad I have him.

I’m grateful for my girlfriend too. I won’t say much on her right now for fear of boring everyone with sappiness and butterflies and shit. But I think we’re both managing the distance thing as well as we can. She still loves me. I still love her. She makes me happy every day. She’s my best friend.

Goodnight to you all, and have a beautiful weekend. (Frankly, I just wanted to assure all of you that I was still alive.)

What is truth? What is important? What defines you?

Every time I get off the phone with my mom… or dad, lately, it’s like… I deflate.

I remember the fight my mom and I got into over Christmas, and how I promised myself I couldn’t let myself live in that house anymore (not long-term anyway). How I didn’t want parents anymore. How I feel like I don’t love them anymore.

But I’m so lost as to how I should communicate with them now. I’m lost as to how I should listen or speak. I talk about my girlfriend and the Vagina Monologues and other “taboo” topics sometimes (to try to warm them up to the idea)… but it’s like they don’t even hear me. I get an “um hum,” an “oh,” or complete silence altogether. Then it’s change topics and onto the next thing.

Now we talk about classes, Weight Watchers, my cat… Neutral things.

I used to get emotional when my mom would talk about cancer or radiation or “pressing on each day.” I was afraid for her to die. Now it’s just part of the update routine. Something she has to tell me to keep me in the loop, but something I honestly couldn’t care about either way. I ask questions sometimes. Other times, I mimic the “uh huhs” and “hmms” she gives me when I speak. The fact that she’s taking steps to be cancer free hits me the same way as her telling me about the interesting lunch she had with one of her friends. It’s like. What do I care?

Sometimes, when I’m alone in bed at night, I find myself wishing that my mom would die. I feel terrible about it. I beat myself up for it regularly. But I can’t deny that I want it.

I mean. Right now… having a parent that doesn’t accept me is pretty much the same as having a dead parent. It’s just harder, because you have to see them and talk to them and tell them you love them. Even when you know in your heart that you don’t.

And the fact that she told me things wouldn’t change makes it even harder. When I came out to my parents in 2010, even when we had our fights after that, it was like I was still holding out hope for them to accept me. Now that she’s told me there’s essentially no hope, it’s like… why bother? Why try? Why even act like we love each other?

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I just know I’m tired of phone calls. Tired of faking love. Tired of being someone I’m not.

I just want to be accepted by my mom. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

I don’t understand why I can’t go see my girlfriend.

Do I have to lie to you two every single time I want to see her?

Because it’s getting annoying.

There are only going to be so many instances where I can “go see Amanda,” “watch a late movie with Bill,” or “spend the night with Mel” before you’ll find out. You’ll notice the mileage on my car… or see one of the people I claim to be spending time with out solo.

And god knows what will happen if you catch me. I can’t even imagine. I could lose my car… my phone… my tuition… my apartment. Your trust.

I want to live in a house where I don’t have to lie about where I’m going or who I’m seeing in order to reconnect with my girlfriend. I just want to be able to go see her… with your permission.

It’s not like I’m asking to drink in the house, or smoke in the house, or have sex in the house. I want to LEAVE the house to go SPEND QUALITY TIME with my girlfriend. THAT’S IT.

You know, you’ve done this with all my significant others… regardless of gender. I’m so goddamned tired of having to apologize to everyone I date for having parents that tell me, “No, you can’t go out,” for no reason… or a “secret reason” that you won’t tell me.

You don’t have to fucking like her. You don’t have to fucking like me.

But please, let me be 20 years old.

Let me live my life.

I’m so ready for Boone.

I’m sorry.

You know what? I’m fucking sorry.

I can’t grow a pair of balls overnight.

I can’t just drop the people who’ve supported me all my life and who claim to still love me regardless of the fact that I’m pan.

I still need them.

So I put up with their bullshit.

I swear.

I swear to fucking god.

As soon as I’m independent, I’m drawing my line in the sand.

They either accept my sexuality or they don’t. And I either stay, or I walk. Forever.

But until that point, or unless you want to start paying my rent, please… Please just stick it out. Please endure. For me.

Please.

I just woke up at 4am to the sound of my roommate crying.

My first thought was, “Here we go again. Let me gear up to tackle this, so I can make sure she’s okay.”

And then I heard my name in the conversation.

She’s mad at me for “stealing” her cat.

I’m sorry? I’m not “stealing” her cat. I’m giving her a tiny bit of food and some water when my roommate’s not here, to make sure she stays alive. I don’t see my roommate enough to know that this cat’s being taken care of. She’s never in the house when any of the rest of my roommates are, so we never know if the cat’s eaten the past 24 hours. (Sometimes I feed the rat too, just so I can be sure both of her animals are eating something.)

My roommate has the habit of leaving for days, sometimes weekends at a time. (Either that, or I just don’t see her. And I’m home a hell of a lot.) What am I supposed to do with a cat that hungrily brushes my ankles and mewls until I feed her something? Or a rat that jumps up excitedly when I walk in the room, because of the prospect of food?

I’m just trying to help this animal. I’m not trying to steal her love from my roommate by any means.

It only makes sense sometimes that this cat would sleep with me too, though, especially when my roommate’s gone for the night. All this cat really wants is someone to love it and pet it. (And be home to feed it on a regular basis.)

I wish she would talk to me so I could explain all this, but when I knocked and asked if she was okay, she said, “Yeah.” and “I’ll be fine.” I’ve learned by now not to interfere more than that. I’m not going to push her anywhere she doesn’t want to go with conversation or otherwise. Even if I want to broach the subject, it won’t be worth a flying fuck if she doesn’t want to own up to the fact that I’m doing something that bothers her.

So what should I do? Start ignoring this cat until it returns its affections back to my roommate?

Frankly, I’d like to have both the cat and my roommate alive and happy.

This is too much drama for me.

And this literally came out of nowhere.

Well. She has her date set.

It’s sooner than I thought.

Today my therapist told me I needed to write her a letter telling her how sad/upset/angry/hopeless this past year has made me feel… since she doesn’t seem to listen to me in person.

But how can I send her such a hateful letter when she’s going to be operated on at the beginning of next month?

Maybe I’ll just rip it to pieces.

Today turned into a real downer.

1. More WW points to blow on hot chocolate and Japanese food
2. A liberal grandmother (or at least a less obnoxious one)
3. A non-potentially-sudicidal roommate
4. No homework
5. Warm toes
6. Cuddle-time and hookah from her (although she seems to have had a shitty weekend also)
7. More flowers
8. Snow instead of this shit-rain
9. A back massage… or a foot rub
10. A maid
11. Less general bitchiness in my life
12. Sex
13. Sex
14. Sex
15. Something to look forward to

(Source: thefuuuucomics)

This might just last for tonight, so let me get it all out now.

I am hopeful because…

There are 27 days left until I turn 20,

which means there are 27 days left until Boone.

And I made my portion of sales for my team for the week… all today

(so basically I can take the rest of the week off)

^but not really

But so work is not a stressor right now… which is always nice.

ANYWAY.

Boone soon.

Which means my internship is ending in 21 days (less than that, actually. 16 if you’re only counting working days).

And my waiting tables job is ending in 26 days.

And my restrictive family time is ending in 26 days. (It hasn’t been bad, folks. Just stressful… as you can very well tell.)

That means I’ll be free. For a little while at least.

And I can go to Boone.

To friends (even though my home friends have been a huge help.)

To school (as much as I know I’ll start hating it come October.)

To potential love-life-ing (hooray for that!)

And to counseling (thank GOD).

So I am hopeful. Hopefully counting down the days where things will return to what I know them to be as normal. And while what I’ve experienced this summer has been exciting and life-changing and all that… I’m ready to buckle down and press on and jump headfirst into a new year.

I feel change coming.

(And for once I’m excited about it.)

redefiningbodyimage:

by The Freedom Experiment

We all have times in our lives when we just have too much stuff going on. There are always deadlines, exams, due dates and just too many priorities to juggle. And when everything is going wrong, the world is screaming for your attention and…

(via poorlycopingqueer)

I wish I could be excited about everything that’s happened within the past 24 hours. I love it. It was the highlight of my weekend/week/month/semester/whathaveyou.

But being dad-triggered earlier and being yelled at by my mom make me want to hate everything and everyone, and crawl into a hole and cry.

I don’t want to go to rehearsal tonight.

I don’t want to write a paper tonight.

I don’t want to do a group project tonight.

I don’t want to do anything tonight.

Someone please cheer me up.

alecshao:

Gillian Wearing - Signs that Say What You Want Them to Say and Not Signs that Say What Someone Else Wants You to Say, 1992-1993

“By using photography to record the confessions of ordinary people, Wearing’s work explores the disparities between public and private life, between individual and collective experience. Signs that Say What You Want was produced by approaching people on London streets, asking them to write something on a card and then photographing them as they displayed it. Private lives were given a sudden and revealingly painful exposure.”

Via

I wonder what I’d write.

(Source: likeafieldmouse, via cruxsc)

onlinecounsellingcollege:

We’ve all had relationships where we felt we just didn’t “speak the same language” as our partners. Somehow, despite all the best intentions, our messages crossed or never seemed to land. Misunderstandings, miscommunication, and hurt feelings built up until the…

(via psych-facts)

HE’S OKAY.