I have this desire to write something, right? But I don't know what to write about. It can be hard sometimes, because I always have so much going on in my head and in my heart.
And today. Today is an overload day. I have so much going on in my head and my heart that I can't sort any of it out, and as a result, I feel rather numb.

I started my day with work. It was a good day of work. I got an extra half-hour, which is like, almost four dollars. Awesome, right? And I got to process most of the time, which is my favorite thing to do. Way better than being stuck on soft lines with the grouches. I get to work by myself, sing in my little corner and just unpack boxes of seasonal items. Which is like... Christmas, you know? (Literally and figuratively. We actually do have Christmas items coming in right now, obviously, but even when it's not this close to the holiday, processing is always like Christmas. 'Cause you just open boxes and it's always a surprise. Okay, unless it's candles. You can always tell a candle box. But, the scent is always a surprise! Lol.) And then like, as I was leaving, I gave everyone hugs. And they were all, wow, isn't she chipper? And I really wasn't. But... I felt so pleasant about loving all of them and loving working with them and just getting to give them hugs.

I followed work with school. Which... is depressing, so I won't dwell on it much.
Ryan was all weird after class, just because he started seeing this other girl. And I was all, whatever, right? Because I don't care. Like, I told him I just wanted to be friends, so why would I care? But he was just all weird, and I care that he was all weird. But whatever. No real big deal. Just. Commenting on it because it was a part of my day, I guess. My very lame day.

So then I had my last therapy session with Brooke. And like. Whoa. Okay, last therapy session? But I'm not all whole and healed yet! But like, I can't see Brooke once I'm no longer a Ohio University student. Well, I'll live.

And like, I'll probably seek out another counselor at Hocking... unless I forget.

And, I'm just saying. Last therapy session. Like whoa.

I cried. I'm bad at goodbyes and whatnot. And it probably seems unremarkable that I cried, since like, I cry all the time, right? But not in there. I did everything I damn well could to not cry in there. But I cried today.
And since it was my last session, Brooke gave me some "tools" to help me to help myself. And like, there's only so much she, or her tools can do, I know that. It's like, up to me and whatnot. And it's all very emotional and very confusing and I don't have it in me to elaborate right now. But I should probably mention that I definitely need to work on my communication skills. Because like, Brooke gave me some feedback at the end of the session (which was basically that she's proud of me, that I HAVE made some emotional progress and whatnot) and then asked me for feedback, and I told her that I didn't feel like the whole thing had been a waste of time, that I always looked forward to our sessions, even though sometimes I would leave very confused and frustrated with myself. And she said she was surprised by that, because the feedback she had been interpreting from my, I don't know, I guess lack of communicationg(?) was that I was frustrated with her and the process and that I didn't really want to be there. But I was all, 'Why would I come, if I don't want to be here?"

The last thing I told Brooke was that I love her. And I do.


Anyway. So then I came home and I took a nap, since I'm going to be up late tonight to watch the meteor shower, but I still have work early in the morning tomorrow. Yay for that. Well, definitely yay for the hours. But three days of truck in a row is kinda like... suck.

And then I watched Grey's Anatomy with my dad. And now I'm going to go curl my hair so that I look all pretty for the guests that aren't going to come over to my house tonight to play fun games and watch meteors in the sky with me tonight. I'm considering a little buzz. I mean, possibly a bad plan since I have work in the morning. But then again, it will totally put me to sleep, which is good. I feel like... well. Like attempting to celebrate that I am still standing. But I don't really feel in a celebratory mood. I am so... meh. And I have this thing about "meh". I really, really, really don't like it. I have a bad history with "meh". "Meh" broke my damned heart. And now I'm just screwed and the only thing I have to celebrate is that I'm still standing, still breathing, at the end of every day. What the fuck, right? And somehow, people think I'm chipper. That I'm a naturally happy person. I repeat. What the fuck.

I don't really know what I'm talking about any more. Like I said. Too much going on in my head and my heart for sorting anything out.

Because I kinda wanna mention this kid that I'm all wrapped up in and spend all my time thinking about when I'm not missing people I can't have. And I kinda wanna mention my dream about Brent. I'm still dreaming about Brent- about touching him... hugging him... so vividly I wake up and feel as though it's a memory, and not just a dream- a year later. Over a year since all the trouble even began. When I have so many other things to be thankful for. So many other people in my life worth appreciating, and I probably am so stupid and to not be appreciating them more, because I miss these people. I shouldn't let them impact me so much. But I keep doing it. I see him. I see someone I so much as RELATE to him. And I have a panic attack. Seriously. I want to say "Enough already!" But I can't. I ache to talk to him. To just see him smile.


But BIlly. I can make Billy smile. I do make Billy smile. And Billy makes me smile. Brooke asked me how I feel about Billy. And I told her that I love him and then searched for more words- words that could even begin to describe how I feel about him. She suggested that I make it a point to communicate my feelings to him. And I was like, but I do!

Dude. What if I don't? And so I want, so much, to call him right now and tell him. But he's not the only one on my mind. As much as I want to call him, I want to call Jessika, too. I would call her first. I would tell her... I would try to tell her, what she means to me. Maybe that's why I failed? Because she didn't know what she meant to me?

Okay, pause. Frustration venting time.
Brooke says one of my protective measusres, when I feel bad about something I did, is to blame the other person. When I'm not blaming myself, I am being defensive and looking at what the other person did wrong. I'm like, "yeah, I did this, but they did THIS."
But like. How do you get to an in-between. When something hurts, you look for somewhere to lay the blame. And as horrible as it is to lay it on, say, Jessika, for example. It's equally as horrible to lay it on myself. So. What do I do?

Oh god. Here comes the crying. This always happens when I'm frustrated. Ugh. (You know, typing is SO much faster than writing, adn I really like it. Maybe I ought to blog more? It does seem to be helping with the flow of expression of my feelings. But. I like my journals. I like having all of that expression in my writing, in colors and on pages with doodles... it's just not the same. And sometimes I want both. But like, that's a lot of work! Lol.)

Unpause.

And I want to ask Kyle if he knows how much he means to me. I want to ask Mikayla. I want to ask Brent. I want to know that they all know how much they mean to me. If they don't know, I want to find a way to tell them.
But I especially want Billy to know.

ARGH. This is another frustration trigger for me. Second guessing my motivations with him. Because I expect something to be wrong with me. Because I expect to possibly hurt him.
But you know what? (I won't feel this way tomorrow) FUCK THAT.
I won't hurt him. I wouldn't do that. I love him. So what if I have a shit ton of baggage and possibly questionable motivations for feeling passionately for him. The thing is, I do feel passionately for him. So if it's partially because I'm screwed up, whatever. It doesn't make it less true, okay?

I just kinda want to spew explicit language right now. That's how I feel. SO. I. DON'T KNOW. And that's a sucky damned way to feel, okay? It's very frustrating and very confusing. And I'm all writing in circles and not making sense and whatnot. Whatever.

I have these moments, in my therapy sessions, when Brooke will say something that will make me think: Why am I here? And the answer is because I'm broken and sad. And the next question is: Why do I feel broken and sad? and the answer is always, I don't know how I got here. And that's very frustrating, but so then I address why I do go to therapy, and I think: Because I want to feel better. I want to feel like a better person, a whole and happy person.
And I get all tortured wondering why I feel I need therapy to do that. Whatever.

I would keep going with this, but IF anyone is coming to my meteor shower thing, they're gonna be here in like fifteen minutes. And I haven't curled my hair or put on clothes yet. Ugh.