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.

Love and truth.

“The worst thing you can be is a liar….Okay fine, yes, the worst thing you can be is a Nazi, but THEN, number two is liar. Nazi 1, Liar 2.″ - Sam Halpern

I absolutely hate being lied to. It's just about one of the most selfish, hurtful, disrespectful things you can do to a person. When you lie to someone, you're 1) assuming the person you're lying to is too stupid to figure it out, 2) showing that you don't think their worthy of honesty, and 3) taking advantage of trust that they chose to invest in you.

And I really can't stand it when people think it's okay to lie by omission. The ones who keep something from you, and when you confront them about it, they treat you like you're stupid and say "well, you didn't ask" as if that justifies it. When someone I care about does that to me, it feels like a knife in my heart.

When you lie to someone, it affects everyone that person cares about, because every betrayal makes it harder for that person to trust again. It's not just the simple pain that comes from finding out you've been lied to, it's the subsequent fear, anxiety, paranoia...the stress of questioning everything and everyone.

I'd rather be beaten, stabbed, or shot than be lied to.

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.

She took the midnight train (except it leaves at 3AM)...

At 2:30 tomorrow morning I'll head to the train station. It'll take me 12 hours to get to Chicago, and my love will already be there waiting for me! Going to Qdoba with Skittles and finding some source of amusement for three hours, then another 3 hour train ride to Battle Creek and then an hour drive back to his house. We get to spend seven days and eight nights together, including our 7 month anniversary. I can't wait to see him again. It's been more than four months. We don't really have any plans and I don't care. I just want to wrap my arms around him again.

Huge added bonus that I get to see some of my favorite people while I'm up there.

This couldn't come at a better time. I need a break from the stress so badly.

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.

Thanksgiving 2011.

I slept til 3 PM and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

But I am thankful for my friends, for the man I love, for my job, for the love of my Maker.

I am.

I should NOT be blogging when I want to get another 5,000 words done on my novel before I go to bed, but I left this on such a bad note last time I felt I owed an update.

One night, a little over a week ago, I was lying in bed, crying uncontrollably. I texted a friend who'd been gone for a week. I told him I hurt so bad. He asked what was hurting me, and the answer was...nothing. There was no cause, the pain just came, relentlessly, from inside myself.

Pain. That's all it is. I can handle pain. I get migraines, and I have to deal with them. I have a bad knee, and I have to deal with it. My fractured tailbone still hurts, and I have to deal with it. So why is it so hard for me to deal with this pain?

Depression is like a vampire. I can see myself that night, lying in bed while the monster drained the life out of me.

No more. I have a stake in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other. If my depression wants me, it can try and take me, but I won't go without a fight.

I know that part of my improvement is from the Prozac, and part is from the love and support of my friends. But part of it is rediscovering the strength of my will.

I've got this.