Fuck it.

There. I said it. I dropped the taboo f bomb. I'm not a teacher anymore so I don't care. I don't really think anyone reads this blog anymore-- so I don't care that curse words are often an easy way out of saying something that is actually much more deep.

I'm a pendulum. I'm either depressed or manic (see my psychiatrist, he'll explain in more detail if you need it that bad) and I don't know which I'm more afraid of.

Depression is my even keel. I'm sad as hell, but at least I know where I'm at. My feet are firmly planted, true willow style. While my mania leaves me uncertain and unsure, and truthfully probably more depressed than my wonderful depressive state.

If for nothing else I need this blog, whoever may or may not read it, to document that. How crazy I feel like I'm going. A proof of that crazy girl's long line of oddness to look at after I crack up. Okay maybe that was a little melodramatic. But damnit I'm feeling rough.

So I'm going to rant.

Just some tidbits about myself.

The moon is the single most ever present symbol in my life. It has been since I was a very young girl, and every phase of my life brings a new, interesting look at it. Currently I avoid it with everything I am, because if I catch sight of it-- I cry. For some reasons I can nail down in my head, but for many more I can't.

I listen to crappy sappy country music on my way home from bartending. NPR isn't on anymore (classical music makes me nervous) and I'm looking for that perfect song to let me cry, to let me feel. To let me get in touch with whatever it was in me that I feel like has disappeared. And I just self edited that word in the process of typing it. Ten points if you can guess what I was gonna say.

My favorite flowers are lilies. Which are apparently toxic to my dogs. Things I love being toxic to me/my life/ other things I care about. Story of my life.

The theatre is my home, it's the only place I feel safe or valuable or allow myself to be vulnerable. And it's the only place I can't share those feelings with anyone else.

I have three tattoos. Three very meaningful tatoos. I can't think of any person who knows all the varying levels of meaning for all of them. But there's only one or two people who get the tattoos on any level other than the obvious.

I forgive everyone in my life for all the wrongs done to me, for all the circumstances that didn't work, for everything that went awry. I will never forgive myself. Ever.

I hope all my secrets go to the grave with me. But I can't keep a secret to myself, so I have to trust others. Thank god people in my life are good to me, even when I don't deserve it.

I feel intensely inadequate. And lost. And hopeless and helpless, and find as many adjectives that end in "less" as you'd like, they'll probably fit me. At this moment, and I'm well aware that I sound like a 13 year old, I feel like I can do no right, no one likes me, and I'm back to being that scared, insecure girl in the corner avoiding everyone else.

My life is compartmentalized. And I've forgotten how it got that way, why it got that way, or why it was so important to get it that way in the first place.

I'm full of some serious self doubt, self loathing, and regret.


I understand, on the inside, that all of this is stupid. That I can make it, that I should stop beating myself up. That I should just let everything be. Life my RENT mantra and take up "No Day But Today" as my attitude. I know.

But right now I'm haunted by ghosts that aren't dead, plagued by memories that never happened, and afraid of a future that's all I ever wanted.

And none of this has anything to do with the fact I'm getting married in three weeks. None of it. It's just me. Being crazy.