Jump Awn It

Time to get back on track. Esmond thinks that I'm a royal fuck-up.

Can't have that happening anymore.


I am good at my job. Thorough. Complete. A hard-worker. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize.

Much Better

I did have high hopes for yesterday: I did. I thought that even if I'm not driven enough to read that full manuscript from the lovely downy fluff of my bed, I could at least respond to a few emails, finish up the YoungHouseLove notes, etc. etc.

Well, eff that. It took almost alllll of my sapped, clog-nosed energy to drive home, down a half cup of Nyquil, and crawl back in bed. Four hours later, I crawled out, groggy, drained, and wiped. I watched five Taylor Swift music videos, ate some pasta, and then (surprise!) fell asleep again.

Today, I'm back at work, up and at 'em, and even though I wish Sean had spent the night, I think in hindsight it's good that he didn't. I was a stuffed up, runny-nosed mess (we can spare him that). Now we can hopefully spend some time this weekend together without me feeling obligated to separate. Also I got to see Boy on the T. And even though I had to sexily mime biting the pad of my thumb because I couldn't close my mouth (can't breathe through my nose), he still STILL smiled at me. Yum-o!

So much to do before the party tomorrow. Cleaning and sewing and baking... oh my! I've got to prioritize, fo sure. But it's going to be a fun one! Lots of great people, interesting dynamics, etc. May need to bow out early from drinks tonight, as I need to be home by eight, minimum.

Fears

I just have to remember that I'm a good person. I am. I'm there for Meg, and I have been there for Meg, whenever, WHENEVER she's needed me. I swallow a lot of hurt and pain and try to suck it up and give her what she needs. And I don't ...

Sometimes my heart hurts when I think that I'm a good person, and then I think I think I'm a good person, and then I wonder if I'm like Aunt Sue. And I think what I think, but in reality, I'm actually a total retard with my head up my ass who nobody has the guts to confront about my total self-obsession and idiocy.

Sometimes I'm scared that I'm exactly what Meg says, which is crazy and self-obsessed and self-righteous and above all, that I don't understand anything about anyone.

And unfortunately, relations with people like Rachel and Baldi and Mizi just cement that.

Crazy

Having to deal all day every day with a boss who wants to know "Where have you been hiding my mail?" or "How do I program the alarm on my cell phone?" really really truly makes me want to kill myself.

Because I don't have better things to do than maliciously hide your mail.

I Am A Good Person

I am a good person.

Congrats Me

In the past half hour, have just simultaneously flipped shit on Rachel and Meg both.

Rachel is just the world's biggest cunt. And I don't really give a shit whether or not things with her change.

But Meg? Jesus, I'm done with that camp. I'm not subjecting myself to her anger and rage for the next six months just because she has no outlet for any of it.


But I'm really, really, really goddam upset right now.

I Wish I Was More Mature About This

But in all honesty, being able to bitch about Cunty Coworker to Sara (thank you Sara) feels soooooo soooooo good. Fucking whore.

Therapy

Yesterday, went back to visit ol' Janice. Boy did I have updates for her. Last time I left her in November, Sean and I were not yet an item and my biggest concern was how to support Meg. Since then, Meg's been to LHI (twice), herniated her disc, and been assaulted. Since then, my parents and I have established some very important boundaries in our relationship. Since then, I've been owning my job. Since then, Sean and I have been dating (for almost a year).

Wow.... a lot's changed. And though therapy is rough (having to face bad behaviors, owning up to patterns, digging through your shit), it's always helpful, and though I dread going, I leave feeling better and more hopeful.

I'm hopeful for the rest of the year. I'm hopeful for the changes that it will inevitably bring, and to work hard on the things that I can change and control.

Today I think I will languish at the library for a bit and listen to Bon Iver. Today... I.... like my hair.

Ridiculous

I fucking hate everybody.

My coworker is the biggest goddam cunt I've ever met.
Sean's useless.
And my family?


Fuck 'em.

Just Not Good

I can pretty much already tell today is going to suck.
Straight-up... suck.


Coming off the weekend was hard enough. I had such high hopes for my weekend with Meg, and they just failed miserably. I know she has a lot of anger and frustration to let out, but there's no excuse. And she won't apologize... I think that's the part that makes me angriest. I don't know how to let this one go without an apology. But I'm angry. I'm so angry. Or maybe less angry and just sadly resigned. Mum hasn't called, so I assume Meg told her something. But I'm still pretty frustrated with Mum for everything that went down last week. Stupid, stupid stupid.


So here's where I am: sans much of a support system. My two biggest advocates, Meg and Mum, have both let me down spectacularly. Pops... well I haven't chatted with him since he tried to talk me out of being a teacher. That's where I am with that. And my other biggest supporter, Sean... well unfortunately I've been trying to pull away from him to give him more space and set up boundaries.

Once again, I find myself feeling entirely alone. And maybe that's okay... I can learn to deal with it.


But until then, today sucks. Once again, the bosses are insane. Coworker hasn't changed... why would she? It's a Monday, and I feel sick and worn-out. Therapy at noon. And just... all this. I should probably hunker down and just try to weather it out. That's the best I can hope for right now.

Durn

When I'm tired, at the end of the longest of long weeks, I still just want to curl up in his arms and kiss him. Daaaaaarn it.

Focus, Kate. Focus on Meggie. Focus on how much fun you're going to have tonight (and IKEA tomorrow!)

You miss him, yes, but it's mostly you being tired. You saw him this morning. Relax... breathe... relax.

Today Will Be A Good Day

Last night, I got to sleep next to Sean. And god, it felt good.

But it felt good after watching TV with Yola. And after checking out that sexpot at the gym (who followed me out again... yurm). And after having a frustrating, but good conversation with my mother (eh... kinda).

I talked to him this morning about some of the thoughts I've been having. Not going in depth, but certainly discussing my feelings and the thought process I've been following since Tuesday.

He said "I'm sorry it's been such a shitty week". And I agree.

I'm not wasting time worrying about his ex, or his female friends, or that he doesn't love me.
Because what we're working on now is ME loving me, not him. I know he loves me. And if he doesn't, there's not much I can do to change the situation. The only person whose love I should be worrying about right now is my own.


So I'm taking this weekend in stride. Yes I want to spend time with him. But I'm excited to see Meg, see Ally Cohan, go to some parties, putter, work on my costume. And yes, to see him too.


I am goddam Buddha right now. Centering myself. Om om om. Nothing's going to bring down my mood today.


FUCK YOU RACHEL.


Okay, just had to get that off my chest.

Fluffy... Lighter Than Air

So I walk in this morning and Coworker is sitting there at her office, stone face at her computer, refusing to look up when I walk in. HONESTLY. I say "Good morning" as I walk to Boss's office. Nothing. Nada.

Fine. You know what? Fine.

I can't help everyone. And sometimes, people are just straight-up botarded, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I refuse to let Coworker's passive-aggressive constipation ruin my morning or my day. If she's truly, TRULY that childish, fine.

I'm not letting it affect me, and I'm not going to waste one more second of my day thinking about it. Ta - da! Gone!

You're Lovely. It's Vile Richard.

Sometimes, when there's soooo much crazy around you, you can't help but wonder "Is it me?"

I went through that phase with my old roommates who, let's be honest, were about as functional and put-together as my baby cousin's blow-poops. And I'm going through it now, a little bit, when I start thinking about Friend and my Hideous Coworker with the maturity of a twelve year old.

I am GODDAM approachable. And what the fuck. How many times have I said "Listen, I know that we work in close proximity and there may be times when I frustrate you. But please, please approach me when you have these problems instead of ignoring me."

Yet, she's ignoring me.

The passive aggressive is just... stunning. Absolutely mind-blowing.


The same with my boss. I wonder if I'm a total nutter. But what the fuck... I'm great at my job. I do a GREAT JOB.


And it's at moments like this when I'm trying to train myself to change my mind, or at least my train of thought. I get to think, "Kate, you're lovely. You've done all you can, but you can't make everyone like you. Yes, you deserve happiness, yes, you deserve normal roommates, and you definitely deserve that raise."


I am lovely. And normal. Not normal, perhaps, but easy, approachable, and a good listener. I'm ALWAYS there in a pinch. So a 32-year-old who gets a high whiny baby voice when she says one unavoidable sentence to me a month because she's not ballsy enough to tell me what's up... well, she can go fuck herself. I don't need her. I don't need anyone. Well... that's not entirely true. But the point is, I'm going to trust myself.

Things That Make Me Happy

Aliza suggested that I make a list of things that make me happy, little things, and I should try to do a couple of them each day (thanks Anxiety Class!)

1. Sit out back in the garden.
2. Have fresh flowers in my room.
3. Listen to good music.
4. Read a book.
5. Leaf through magazines.
6. Knit.
7. Bake / cook.
8. Drink wine.
9. Clean my room.
10. Unload the dishwasher.
11. Do craft projects.
12. Read decor blogs.
13. Take long hot showers.
14. Work out.
15. Drink a cup of coffee.
16. Check jezebel.
17. Sit and stare out the window.
18. Sit down for a minute on the couch at work.
19. Paint my fingernails.
20. Watch TV.
21. Stretch.
22. Organize stuff.
23. Take a walk.

The Pivot Point

Last night might have been the moment.

Now, this may sound slightly dramatic. And perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps the moment has been nagging at the corner of my brain for a few weeks (months? years?) now. But no matter how much I ignore, or think I've changed, or push it away, something had to give. And last night it did.

I can count the number of panic attacks I've had on one finger. Yes, one finger. But last night, laying in bed with my mom on speakerphone, staring at the ceiling and heaving, HEAVING sobs that absolutely wracked me, unable to get the images out of my head of Sean's face, Sean's beautiful smiling face and being absolutely unable to breathe, I knew that I couldn't. I just couldn't. I can't do this. I can't live like this.

Mom said what's true, and what I've known all along. I live in fear of being alone because I don't trust that I will be okay. I'm scared to be alone. Hell, I can't sleep at night without Sean next to me.


Back when I was in college, I lost track of myself. I lost track of the wonderful, marvelous, unique me, the one that I loved with all of my being. The me that was just right as she was, with all of her misery and crazy and exuberance and childishness. I've always been just right. Just as I am. And then I lost it. When I broke up with Trevor, I vowed that it would never happen again.

And now I'm right back where I've started. The fabulous, beautiful, marvelous me is slipping away again. Sean's noticed, and it's the one thing that's affecting our relationship the most. What I've realized is that all the times that I said I was my best self around him, I meant that I was my best self for him. I was patient and caring and sometimes withheld myself because I knew that was what he needed. But what I lost sight of was the my part of the equation. Because even though I adopted all of these traits (that are quite good traits to have), I was so focused on how I could be good for him that I forgot how to be good for me.

I forgot... how to be good for me.

That just came out, but I have the sense that that sentence has been waiting for the right moment to spring out.

I forgot how to love myself, how to be when alone. I've placed my life within the context of him, and I hate it.


I want to be okay sleeping alone. Hells, why wouldn't I be? I have the whole of the delicious cozy bed to myself. I can spread out, wear pajamas, not worry about sweaty bodies. Maybe I can stop viewing it as a death sentence. Maybe I can rejoice that I don't have to brush my hair before I fall into bed, that I can masturbate when I wake up, that my zits can come out in all their glory and I can goop on zit zapper without worrying how I look. Maybe I can rejoice that I don't have to wear mascara to bed. I can wear ratty pants and giant cozy t-shirts and socks and pile my bed with pillows. I can wake up to the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack over and over. I don't have to turn the hot water off in the shower. I can take extra time drying my hair, doing my make-up. I can wear big giant comfy undies. I can watch lesbo porn on my computer. I should probably start falling asleep to music, and I definitely don't like falling asleep in the dark. I'm going to string up Christmas lights again.

The point of this blog is for me to fall in love with myself again. For me to learn how to be alone, and not just how to be alone, but to enjoy it (gasp!). For me to be able to have more moments like this morning, when I was smoothing lotion on my legs and I was a little surprised at how firm the muscle was there. I LIKED that. I like my body, my wit, my insight. I like that I'm approachable. I like myself when I'm quiet. I like myself when I'm busy, when I'm puttering, when I'm cooking, when I'm taking on huge craft projects or a garden. I like vegging out and watching TV with a glass of wine and a big cozy blanket.

I'm going to find myself. And I'm going to fall in love all over again.