(two years later)

Standard

it’s funny how much life moves forward and my compulsive need to write about it for no one to read remains the same.

so, i suppose, ill let my future self know this first: that boy you wrote about two years ago was a mess. he came back, you turned him down, and frankly, you were too smart to be dating him anyway. i lived with those 2 friends i mentioned below, though i find it sort of funny, looking back, that i referred to them as ‘two close friends’. one was (and is) a close friend. one was a friend of that close friend who turned out to be a psycho bitch. but it was a decent first year out. I had a pretty apartment in the downtown core, brandon and i became even better friends. there was hard wood and tile and an giant air mattress i stole from my parents that served as our living room furniture for half the summer. i met andrea in that apartment. i had obsessive break downs in that apartment, as dee didnt pay her rent and refused to clean anything. bleach, q tips and tile grout. the sun was bright, and i remember walking on the waterfront on the first sunny day last year, and having nothing else matter but the pure joy of outdoors and sunshine. I met nicole. natalie came back. i miss the sun in that apartment… we never did have curtains.

brandon and i moved into my grandmothers apartment building, and its been a horrid mess of construction the entire time. he has started anti depressants, and he’s become a much better friend since. that sounds like a strange thing to say. i think, hes just become so much less anxious about saying or doing the appropriate thing, that he is able to do and say SOMETHING, which is what i need from him from time to time. brandon is my person and i love him very very much. he is doing so much better. i cant imagine whats going to happen when we grow up and have to have other people. our own, independent lives.

i suppose i should figure that out. i’ve nearly finished my second degree. grad school soon.

it’s weird how looking back, how recapping a year in my life, all i want to do is say things about all these beautiful wonderful people in my life (did i mention lucy was born? over a year ago.) and almost as a footnote i think to mention i’m in the home stretch of completing my honours thesis. i wish i could translate that to real life. i’m always so stuck on doing technical things perfectly. on school, on careers, or work. i wish i could allow the value of people and experience to outweigh all this other crap. I’m working on that, now. or i’m trying. i took next year off, from grad school. i dont know what im going to do yet, but i’m going to do it because it will be fun. fun has never been high enough on my priority list.
for the past 3 days, ive been going through something. or longer, i suppose, but three days ago was the snap. the frozen in place, cant force self through another moment, hysterically crying to my thesis adviser, panic. i’m out at my parents place now. im not sure why i came here, really. not that they dont love me, because they do. in fact being here just reminds me of how fucked up my thoughts are surrounding this whole ptsd thing, as even the super imposed values i carry around dont match theirs, or anyone else’s. but being here makes it hard too, because im just starting treatment. and as much as my family is great and supportive and we are a unit that i dont intend to break, part of therapy needs to be admitting that they arent perfect, that they can be this and still have been that. but it gets hard to keep the belief blocking in action when here so constantly. i could never let my mother read that.

i am doing much better than i have. it is something i need to remind myself of in times like these. this is low, but i’ve been lower and climbed higher.

onward and upward.