Last night I was really stressed out about life, and I was praying and I just felt so afraid.  And I thought, I shouldn’t be afraid, I should try to have faith that things will work out.

And then I realized something: I’m always afraid.

I operate in a state of constant fear.  I’m always afraid of something or other; I’m always afraid that things won’t work out.

And as I tried to focus on feeling safe and secure, it was awkward and uncomfortable.  I realized that these were very unfamiliar feelings.  In contrast, fear felt familiar, like an old friend, or a warm blanket.

I didn’t know what do with myself when I didn’t feel afraid; I was so used to worrying that without worry and fear to occupy my mind, I didn’t know what to occupy it with.

And I preferred to slip back to feeling afraid.  Because it was familiar.  Because I was used to it.

I don’t want to be afraid all the time.  I want to filled with faith that things will work out.  But old habits are hard to break.

November is Hope

“If you’ve ever had those times where you’ve clutched a pen or something else in your hand for a long time, only to look down and be surprised that you are still holding it long after your need for it has passed, you’ll understand.  Sometimes our minds just make us go on clutching something. Sometimes we get so used to holding on that we forget to let it go.”

“I wondered if there were some pieces of your life that would always be too monumental to ever leave you.  Some events in life that were fossils embedded in rock, the wrinkles etched on an old person’s face, words imprinted in a book.  Permanent, permeating…But then you turn the page.”

“We are thickly layered, page lying upon page, behind simple covers.  And love–it is not the book itself, but the binding.  It can rip us apart or hold us together. My mother had always said that a book is worthy of a strong embrace, but, too, you must be gentle with one.  Careful in whose hands you put it.”

“We had a long history of protecting each other, my mother and I.  I’m sure we’d keep protecting each other forever.  We cared too much for each other to have between us the recklessness of complete honesty.”

all quotes from Honey, Baby, Sweetheart by Deb Caletti
images from here and here

Guys, the church is true, in case you were wondering.  I bear my testimony of that.  I’ve never doubted for very long, or doubted very seriously, but I have on occasion doubted.  But I can give you my renewed testimony that it is true.

and you know what else?  here are some other things I know:

- theatre frequently seems like a ridiculous, impossible, crazy, unstable, field, with little chance for success.  But it is where I belong and where I’m going to stay.

- I can make it through the pain.  Sometimes it seems impossible, but my Heavenly Father has given me the  strength to make it through the pain.  And make it I will.

- I may not really have a family here on earth right now, but I am part of my Heavenly Father’s family.  They love me and support me.

 

in other words, it’s going to be okay.

I have been in prime self-destructive mode all week.  Maybe the last three weeks.  I don’t know.  I feel like I’m going crazy.

I think it’s because my sister is turning 16 soon and my mom is not going to let me be there.  I miss her so much…it likes an ache inside me all the time.  I’ve been dreaming about her lately.   It’s been eating me up inside and I’ve been eating it up literally, I’ve been just eating way too much the last week, and it’s bad for my body but even worse for me emotionally because I feel so bad about acting so self-destructive.  It’s what’s called maladaptive behavior. I wonder what healthy adaptive behavior would be in this situation…but I’m not really sure…

I miss her so much…

Here’s to waking up and dealing with the pain better tomorrow.  Wish me luck.

understanding

Okay, I think I’ve finally put two and two together.

I am willing to risk so much, with no chance of anything working out, BECAUSE I am high on our connection, which is honestly unlike anything I have experienced in my life, and because he has qualities that I value highly and can never find.

Because I have been looking for that for so long, and not finding it, and despairing of its existence and possibility, I can’t get myself to care sufficiently about the fact that he is bad.

That is what  is going on here.

“i knew that he was bad, and that it didn’t matter” -Deb Caletti

 

 

“I walked into your eyes without a rain coat on”  -Ingrid Michaelson

 

How is this happening to me? 

I’m doing all sorts of stupid things I don’t normally do.

Our connection is, I imagine, what crack cocain must be like.  I want it so much.  Which makes me forget everything when I’m with him.  Like that he’s bad. 

Along with being skilled at cutting my losses, I’m normally quick to lose all interest in bad boys.  But not this time.

I know this isn’t healthy.  I know this isn’t good.  I know I am worse than playing Russian Roulette with my heart.  (At least there’s a chance on winning that.  This is going to end badly no matter what. )

I can’t seem to get myself to care enough to stop.  I like being around him so much, I cannot resist the oppurtunity to do so.

 

 

images via sabino

Wisdom

“Compliments can give something far and beyond what the giver intended.  They can have the strength of a medieval tonic, a transforming magic that can take on a life of its own.  All you need is the right combination of ingredients–need, certainty, a hole to fill and a believable wizard to hand over the bubbling liquid.”

Have you ever received a compliment like that?  You want to believe it so much–that need, that hole to fill is so huge–and yet you know deep down that it’s a lie, that they don’t mean it?  And yet you can’t help but believe it because you want it more than anything to be the truth and you want more than anything for him to think that about you…

“I decided that [he] had just been playing.  He hadn’t realized what he was doing…I made a little edit of him, turning him to fiction.  It was easier than you’d think.”

I’ve definitely done that with guys; editing them into what I want them to be in spite of themselves.

“To an untrained eye, need and love were as easily mistaken for each other as the real master’s painting and a forgery.  All I could do right then was feel that wrenching hold in my stomach and my heart and call it love.”

“You fall in love and you think you’re finding yourself.  But too often you’re looking inside him for you, and that’s a fact.  There’s only one place you can find yourself, [and that's inside your self].”

“Love can only come when you’re already who you are, when you are filled with you.  Not when you look to someone else to fill the empty space.”

All quotes  from Deb Caletti’s Honey, Baby, Sweetheart.

Top image from Cup Cake Mug Shot. All other images from ffffound.

normally I’m really good at cutting my losses.  when i can tell a guy is not interested in me, i put those feelings away, don’t spend time with him, flirt with other guys, etc.

normally.

i seriously cannot resist spending time with this guy.  he has so many of the qualities i want in a boy and that i can  NEVER find.

lately every time i have a PC (potential crush) on a guy, I get to know him and I quickly realize he’s not for me.  but this guy just gets better and better the more i get to know him.

my heart is going to get shattered again.

yay.

i don’t need this crap.  it’s distracting me from school.

i need some higher standards for the guys who break my heart.  like they have to have some sort of romantic feeling for me.  like there should be a one in a million chance of things working out.

i always end up falling for unavailable guys.  i think it’s my subconscious mind’s way of protecting me from actually being in a relationship.  I mean, this way hurts too, of course, but at least I’m the one controlling the pain.

i hate this crap.  Why can’t I be normal about relationships?  I don’t want drama, I don’t want heart ache, I just want to love and be loved.

IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK??

I don’t need this crap…

On Beauty

“[It's] not just that beauty and stuff like that is only skin deep–we always hear that–but that it may not even actually exist. It’s this mirage…some nonexistent thing, really, that we see on people’s faces or in what we imagine their bodies to be and it has so little, I mean, absolutely almost no real value with anything important or tangible in our lives…It has nothing to do with a person, or is such a small, small part of who they really are as human being as to not even be of any consequence…or shouldn’t be, in the scheme of things.”

–Neil LaBute “Reasons to be Pretty”

For the last three years it has really pissed me off that the amount of food I put into my mouth, or the number of miles I run on a treadmill somehow correlates to the amount of male attention I get.  I just don’t understand the connection.  The most important, enduring parts of a romantic relationship are emotional and spiritual.  So why does it always have to begin with physical attraction?  I have so much to offer, so much to give, but no one seems to notice unless I am also physically attractive.

I am beginning to get the attention again, although it is due 9/10 to confidence and grooming, and 1/10 to actual changes in my appearance, I’m pretty sure.  Which makes it seem all the sillier.  I mean, I can literally fool guys into thinking I’m better looking.  That just reinforces the idea that beauty is a mirage.

But the attention feels so good.  A sweet gesture by a guy, even one that isn’t particularly momentous, like telling me I’m beautiful or asking me to dance, goes directly to deepest part of me.  And I don’t understand why I had to go with out that attention for so long.  I’ve missed it so much, without realizing what I missed.  All because of how I looked on the outside, which is such a small, small part of who I am.  All because of the clothes I put on my body, the food I put into my mouth, and the amount of time I spent doing my hair.

I know that romantic relationships tend to begin because of physical attraction.  I know.  I get it.  It’s how people are, how they’ve always been, and it’s not changing anytime soon.  I’m even embracing it and taking care of myself and all that.  I’m not fighting it anymore.

But it still makes me sad.  Because I was having a conversation with a group of guys the other day, and they were talking very bluntly about pretty girls and ugly girls.  In this discussion, they placed me firmly in the category of pretty girls.  But it still hurt.  Because I knew what it was like to be considered an ugly girl.  There’s nothing quite like it.