Life is strange, but it's beautiful.

I've been stubbornly trying to refute this notion lately. "Not everything is beautiful," I argue. I am tired, I am hurting, I am scared and frustrated and confused. I want to indulge my own weak, petty bitterness. I want to piss and moan like a petulant child.

But I'm better than that, and I deserve to make myself act like it. And the people around me deserve me at my best. And when I give myself the chance to be better, I find beauty in everything. Even in my pain, or my frustration, or my confusion.

adrift

I'm trying to put all my energy into the present and future, in the hopes that I can stop the past from continuing to cause me pain. And it occurs to me that part of that is letting go of who I was and coping with who I've become.

So many things I used to love don't even appeal to me anymore. Three new video games have come out, ones that I was looking forward to but ultimately didn't care enough about to buy. The only music I listen to now is dubstep, because everything else makes me sad. I hardly watch movies or TV anymore.

I don't even talk to people as much. I socialize at work - and I'm so lucky, because I love the girls I work with - but when I go home, I crawl straight into bed and look for ways to distract myself till it's time to sleep.

There were only two people left that I could talk to. Two people I felt safe and comfortable with.

Then last night my best friend told me he doesn't give a shit anymore. I don't even know if it's my fault or not. What do you even say to that? I guess sometimes the only way to be a good friend is to not tell someone when they're being a bad one.

So here I am, on the raggedy edge, trying my best to make it through the next few months.

I ask not for a lighter burden, but for stronger shoulders.

I feel so powerless lately!

I MISS MY CAR. My mom's car got repo'd Wednesday morning. Since I only work 15 minutes north of home but she works 45 minutes south of home, it's easier for me to catch a ride with someone than it is for her, so she takes my car. I no longer have the freedom to come and go as I please, my schedule is dictated by the people around me. And none of it is my fault! My mom never helped me get a car or let me drive hers - which is why I didn't learn to drive till I was 24. But now I am stuck paying the price for her bad decisions. It makes me SO ANGRY.

There are things in my future over which I have no control, and we're encountering stalls and setbacks at every turn. Every day that something else gets in the way of our plans, I just break down entirely. I want to have faith but it's so difficult!

I had another test Monday for my cervical dysplasia, and this is the worst part - waiting for the results. I'm trying to be positive - after all, the news last time was good - but the worst-case-scenario voice in my head won't shut up.

And while I was with my doctor, I talked to her about getting off the Prozac. It's definitely taken care of my depression - that cold, hollow feeling is gone, has been for a while - but since I've been on it I've been so much worse. Since I've been on it I've crossed the line between not wanting to live and flat out wanting to die. I think it's better for me and those closest to me if I quit taking it! So now I have to wait for it to work its way out of my system and hope that when it does, I'll go back to normal.

My weight is OUT OF CONTROL. This is the biggest I've ever been. But all the stress and the anger and the worry and the frustration are exhausting; I'm tired ALL THE TIME, I don't sleep well at night. So not only can I not find the strength to work out, but I'm drinking a ton more soda trying to stay awake at work!

But I'm not totally powerless. This weekend at some point I'm going to buy the stuff so I can have a salad for lunch every day and healthy snacks instead of junk. And I'm working on my Cognitive Behavioral Therapy - I have a few apps on my phone for it, plus I signed up for an account at Mood Gym.

The say that sometimes God calms the storm, and other times he lets the storm rage and calms the child instead. I can handle that. I'm looking forward to a little calm this weekend.

Stop the wagon, I'm getting off.

I've decided to drink.

I don't think it's a relapse. It's not a matter of "OMG life sucks I can't take it I need a drink!" I don't NEED a drink. Hell, I don't even want one right now.

What I want is certainty.

I wasn't what they call a "low-bottom drunk" when I quit. I didn't lose a job, or a spouse, or get sent to rehab.

I quit drinking because I could not picture my life without alcohol. This is no longer so. I haven't had a drink in ten months. I can do it.

But do I have to? I grow weary of being the only sober person at the party. Of the sheepish looks and awkward silences that follow harmless slips of the tongue from normal drinkers. If that's the way it has to be, then so be it. But what if that ISN'T the way it has to be?

I had a very bad year last year. No support system, no healthy coping mechanisms, no belief in myself or my future. I knew I was out of control, I just didn't care.

I'm not that girl anymore. I know who I am, and more importantly, who I want to be. I want to continue to grow as a person, to keep strengthening my relationship with God, to work toward my as-yet-undiscovered Personal Legend.

And I can no longer say with any degree of certainty that I must abstain from alcohol to do that. I can no longer say "I'm an alcoholic" and know it's true.

The Big Book says, if you're not sure you're an alcoholic, try some controlled drinking. So, that's what I intend to do. I'm not running back to the bottle or anything. But, the next time I'm in a social drinking situation, if I feel like it, I'll have a drink. My sponsor is on board. He says that the fact that I decided yesterday morning to try again, yet I haven't had a drink yet, is a good sign. He will be there for me whether I succeed or fail, and he will love me no matter what.

Maybe I'll discover that I CAN be a social drinker; that I'm not an alcoholic, I was just lost. Or, maybe I'll discover that I still can't have just one, that when I take that first drink I still lose all control. If so, then I'll go back to AA. But at least I'll know for sure.

Warning: uncaffeinated thoughts ahead.

I just woke up. Be afraid.

Occasionally, I find it difficult to be at home. I'm in that mode now. Yesterday, I had an adventurous trip to Wichita followed by an evening with my "family" here in Hesston. It was amazing and I felt fantastic - very much my usual self.

I woke up this morning feeling lonely. This is strange. I never wake up lonely. I'm not remotely a morning person. One of the problems with the last guy I dated was not that he wanted to spend the night, but that he wanted to still be here when I got up.

I blame the transitionary state of my life. (Thank you firefox, I see "transitionary" is not a word. I'm using it anyway.) I'm in the process of losing loved ones. I suck at it. For a brief period I was able to cherish the extra time, but now it feels like I'm living with bated breath and I keep thinking "When I die, I hope it's sudden so my loved ones don't suffer like this."

Starting my own business has me thinking about the future, and it's making me dizzy. I can't stay here forever. This town, this job - I feel like they're just waiting for me to outgrow them. I'm terrified that I'm getting too comfortable here, that I'm forgetting that I can't live like this forever. It's difficult to imagine leaving when I've spent the best part of my life here.

At the risk of being cliché, I was born here. Rather, reborn. Everything I have become is the product of the experiences I've had in this little town. Which means I'll have to grow up all over again when I leave.

Behold my lack of coherency.