Panic. "Don't panic"

I have little attacks.

Like panic attacks, but a different way. More literal.
I panic.

I feel shut off.
I feel left out.
I'm not sure what I feel.
I feel suffocated. Like I'm being suffocated right now.

It's like I'm alone, and not in a good way.
In a way to where everyone else is okay, and I'm over here, not.

I feel like someone just hit me really hard, and the wind's knocked out of me.

Right now.

This happens sometimes.

I get emotional, I get panicky, I get nervous, I say things to people, I get hateful in public (fbk/mysp). I say things to people that I shouldn't say, things.. well, panicky things, that I need a lot of reassurance and help and love and I need positive.. well, I probably need words of affirmation.

I don't get those. I usually get ignored.

Or I get told that it's all okay and it's going to be okay.
You might as well be telling me to get a chill pill and stfu, because that's all I'm hearing, and it's not helping. It isn't positive. It's just you trying to stick a pacifier in my mouth when really, I'm fucking starving. For, you know, food.


I'm having this sort of panic attack right now.

I need a hug. I need to cry real fast and get it out. I need a really really long hug.



Where's my hug?

I have an idea. But not a plan.

I couldn't love any sound better than I love Elliot Smith.

_x_____

I'm not a Christian anymore.



I resign from faith.

Come downstairs and say hello.

I am a Christian.


And I feel weird saying that right now.

Because, Reality3.


I feel like a lot of things have gone out the window.

I may've mentioned this via blog before, about how I feel like I'm writing my own history? How I feel like there's only this moment, right now, just this? Because that's exactly how I'm feeling these days, and it's allowing me to breath easier. A lot easier.

I feel like "fate" and "destiny" are fake-outs. Which, leaves God's Plan in the throw of automatic assumptions of the same 'fate' as those, so to speak.

Which.. makes me technically deciding that The Plan isn't really real, and that means the Bible must not be real (which I've wondered before, in terms of good writers knowing how to pull at the heartstrings of readers, and being really good at writing). But if I'm not believing in anything past right this moment, and just hopefully assuming there'll be the very next moment after this, then I have to say that I don't believe in fate, therefore The Plan, therefore the Bible.

Thus, what do I believe? What is there for me to know to believe? If the Bible isn't so, then how should I know anything about God, or how we (as in everything) got here, and why we're here, and why things are as they are, why things happen, and what will happen to us when we arent' here any longer? So, am I a Christian? Am I just a struggling Christian? A tested Christian?

Am I anything?


Do I believe so much in my own perception and occassional bouts of enlightenment to the point that I'd be better to search in terms of an enlightenment belief? Or do I place my faith in God, and assume He's giving me what I think I give myself?





Does my questioning, or lack of everything, make me a nothing?

I don't know what I think now. And it isn't that I'm turning my back on God, because I don't feel hatred or disbelief, really, or anger, or super-confusion. I just feel like things go one at a time. Things, moment, breaths, things. But why? Why do they? Where will I be when I die? Who do I trust? Does trust have to even exist? Just assume that there's nothing to hide, nothing to keep, just go on going on. I could easily do that right now. But ...where will I go when I die? I can't seem to easily believe that I'm a flame and once I die, I just go out. Just ..nothing. I can't seem to believe that. So what then?

I had a dream.

I just had a dream that I was hanging out in an Aveda salon, w a former best friend (whom I somewhat actually miss). We were somewhere out of town, somewhere I'd never been before.

The salon was cozy and I liked the atmosphere. We were taken back, and she got the same hair color she always got, and talked me into getting that color, too.

We were student stylists ourselves, apparently.


I had a dream that I worked, paid my loans off, took my days off to sit at the barbershop and take notes on the haircuts Pop was doing. That I went to Destin and attended a Florida beauty school, and that I became an Aveda apprentice in Destin (where I got my hair done once before).

That I came back to Evansville after those 3ish years, and took Pop's barbershop and made it my own.



I woke up and realized that this is possible.

That I could pay off my loans this year, just work a lot harder.
And plan the Destin thing this whole year.
Find out which school Aveda mostly prefers, and seek it out.
Work with Aveda the whole time.
Get an apprenticeship, and work there.
Feel adequate in the skills I've acquired, then come here.

In the meantime, apply to FA positions, and whatever happens, happens.





And then I woke up again, and realized that that's way too much to concern myself with right now, and that I just need to get ready for work, and bake cookies for the guys working in the Mens Dept.

Life is right now. Life will be today.

That's all. Games over.

"Well, crack a bottle." -Eminem

Reality.


I'm going to call this one Reality3.

I've peeled off the layers from my eyes.

I'm seeing simply what is. What is right in front of me. What is exactly right in front of me.


Like, I've blocked myself from being able to read in.

And it's a cool result I'm getting.



And.. I kind of feel like I'm living moment to moment.

Like I, myself, am writing my own history.

As if there's no pier that I'm steering towards, just keep rowing's all.



It's refreshing.

I'm lucky. Lucky right now. Right this moment. That I don't need to look backwards, or try to see forwards.

This moment is all I have. Moments are fleeting.

The fact of the matter is:

I was too young to go to beauty school, to try to start a career that I'd be involved in for the rest of my life. I was too young to have a chance in the pond of big, pretty fish. I was too awkward, too nervous, too easily influenced. I hardly had a chance.


I went to college to make up for my unsuccess story of beauty school. I tried to take back normalcy. I didn't really want to go to college to learn, to develop into something I enjoyed, in professional form. I didn't really know where to place my direction.


Mark Honiker was good at being a fuck-up. He was a cool guy who played off that reputation, and lost the will to use his brain. I saw potential, I was seeing through rose-colored glasses, with a hazy mind. Mark's influence was not good on me, and it's best that he went away from my world. Whether I thought so or not.


My sister is the way she is. She was raised well, and she has infinite knowledge and education (some school-taught, some not). She is very emotional. I can't be the one to say why that is, but I can be the one to point it out. Sometimes she says things that she doesn't really mean. She does things that can be ..less than desirable. She knows how to be an angel and a devil. But not at the same time. That doesn't make her bad. That makes her ...her, I guess. We, somewhere along the way, were adapted into craving attention. She needs attention whether she knows it or not, and it sucks. Because I am like that too. So, if she's super-sweet and nice to you, great! Be really super-sweet and nice back to her, because she can be the best friend you'd ever had. But when something happens that tips her scale, ehh, watch your ass. She'll need help or at least someone to hear her worry out loud. If you're not listening, if you're not really paying genuine attention to her, if you're not caring about what is going on with her, she's going to blow up. And she's going to say things, mean, hateful, terrible things to make you listen. And you will listen. You'll feel hurt or angry, and you'll really listen then, and you'll reply to her, and give her your attention. She's gonna get you, get you get you get you. Because somewhere along the line, we were trained to.


My mom isn't going to change. She's a person. She even sees herself more as a person than a mom. I think she's excited to be a grandma because she thinks it's a new tackle, and she's going to have a chance to put her entire self into it this time. If she starts out strong, and sticks with it, she'll have accomplished one of her life roles. It's not her fault. She has her own life, and good for her! But we're at the age to where we can see this, and we can see her from far away, and see what we always really wished would change into a more motherly state of being. I think we were blessed with Gram to even out the loss we had with Mom. (Not that she's a loss, it's just that she.. well, you understand what I'm saying.) The only quotes I'm ever going to remember from my mom are: "Women are like roses. When you cuss, you become a rose trampled and dirty in the street." or something like that, and "You're an adult now, Tabby. I feel like it's okay for me to tell you: Life is this. It's what you're living right now! When you get older, when you get my age, life is the same! We all feel the same shit! Nothing really gets better, it just gets different. We all worry about things, we are all trying to figure shit out in our heads. Some of us seem to be able to put a better, more comforting front on, but really, we're all going nuts in our heads! Going in circles, trying to see what the hell is going on and what to do now!"


I was a good girl, a deep and wise girl, a deserving girl; I had potential to be a great best friend, a great girlfriend, a great person, a legendary person. At a point very long ago. I've lost it, probably through different situations of my misunderstanding and claiming "unjust" and "having been overlooked and mistreated," drugs, bad influences, betrayal of myself, all kind of things. I've lost it. I can officially say that I have, because it's abundantly clear at this point. I'm actually kind of glad to know it now. I'm good, I can be deep, I have potential. I'm not a good friend and I don't know how to be a girlfriend. But I know how to make things special, how to try cheering people up, what to say to make a person feel good, how to be there when a friend needs someone. I know how to step in at the right times, sometimes. I thought that was enough. But it's not enough.


I have not failed. I've just attempted silly things with hopes of flying high. I've planned ridiculous things that I'd really have to stretch for, and I don't have the energy to stretch myself even halfway. I'm alive still, I can eat every day, I have a home for myself, I can pay my bills, I have work, I have a few good friends that haven't left me yet, and I've got my potential. I just need to relax and see where I can go, what life will do with me, what I can use that potential on.


I'm not perfect. I don't come off as perfect. I can't try to be perfect, because it wears me out. I just need to relax. How I am is how I am, who I am is me. Whoever ends up being cool with that, is the people that deserve to stay around. (I'm not saying that people have left me, because most usually the case is that I push people out, quite forcefully. I'm just meaning for the present and future.) I appreciate everyone I've had in my life. I'm sorry for hating you, and holding a grudge against you for something small, stupid, or for my sister (what I thought I was doing right). I don't hate you, I don't really know you, it's not that I don't want to ever know you either, and I've released all of those feelings (in late 2009, to be honest). I'm sorry for not paying enough attention to you. I'm sorry for not being a very good friend. It was hard to try to be great for you and try to be a good friend at the same time. I really am sorry. I'm sorry for the rollercoasters.


I'm going to try harder. But in reverse.

I just cried.

I just don't know, man. I just don't.


I read her blog.
Two pages of entries.


At first, I felt sick.

And then I felt really excited. Because, I know her. And I can imagine her feeling the way she's talking.

I feel sick right now, again.


But, this situation is really really hard to deal with. For me.
Obviously just me.


....

I have done well, I thought. Like, ...I confronted him, face-to-face style. I told him exactly how I FELT (which, if you know me, then you know that I'm not good in the "feelings" department), and what I thought. I thought I was brave. I was proud of myself for being so bold.

I went on to tell him the plan. The Plan. And then continued to try to fight for him.


Yeah. Life is. And yeah, I messed up. And yeah, Dakota's a great guy. A great person. And yeah, Katherine was my best friend. And yeah, we stopped being friends. And yeah, ..I don't know.


It's no longer a winner-loser situation, I really believe. I feel like.. it's a life situation now.

(I don't know if I will be able to fully explain what I mean by that, but I'll give it a go.)

I had the opportunity, and I wasn't ready. I thought I was ready a few times, but I wasn't. I moved back home. I got caught up again and again, I got cold-feet more than a few times. I wasn't ready. I made a plan. Which ultimately leads to me not having been ready, but trying to prepare myself for being ready.

Shit happens. Life happens.

Katherine and Dakota. They ..happened. It just is what it is.

I mean.. It isn't my FAULT because really, ..I wasn't ready.

Yeah, I can go and think that she slipped in while I was MIA during those few months of awful I was going through, after our fight. Well, his fight towards me.

But, he said what he felt, what he thought. He was angry, upset. He couldn't know how I felt because he wasn't here, and I wasn't there. I couldnt' know how he felt because I wasn't there and he wasn't here. It happened.



I'm glad he had someone to talk to, I mean, I guess. I was sad to hear (probably more jealous than sad) that Katherine and Dakota were talking during that time. It hurt me that he'd hurt me, and that my friend was talking to him, sometimes even about me. Technically (as I saw it) behind my back. That she'd be so friendly to someone close to me that hurt me so harshly.

Sigh.


This all has happened.

That's what it all comes down to.


I'm crying, and I'm not sure if it's because I don't know what to do, how to breathe correctly, what to say, how to go on, where to turn, how to feel, or anything. I just don't know.


I didn't react badly when she said mean things to me on his facebook status. I didn't. Because I said it like it was/is: "It's not about you, Katherine."

It wasn't about her. I promise with my whole heart, it had nothing to do with her.


I didn't talk about her to Dakota. I didn't say dirty little things to him, to try to sway him to Team Tab. No. Because, well, ..frankly, I have more class than that. I don't have to stoop that low. I just don't, and I know that. And she didn't have to either. Sometimes, it's easier to get caught up though, and just say things, because that's what happens. It's what happens in this world, with everyone around us, it's just what happens. She may not have even meaned some of that. Or any of it, for all I really know. She was hurt, I'm sure, and maybe scared because of what action I took.

It's hard, sometimes, to remember to put yourself in another's shoes for just a moment even, to relate, to feel for that person, to feel what you're doing to that person. Even remembering that people are just people, can be hard. It's hard for me. I struggle nearly every second with that.

Anyway. She was threatened. I threatened her happiness with Dakota, by telling Dakota what I told him.

I knew she'd be upset about it, but I had to tell him anyway. I figured I was justified since she was my friend and he was mine all the time, that since she was able to just .."break the friendship rules" that all was fair in love in war. And it's true. All is fair in love and war.



Um.

I was too late. Is what it may or may not have come down to.

The main point is that, Katherine and Dakota are now dating. Now, this could've taken place in high school and I probably would not feel the same pain that I am feeling now.

Katherine and Dakota are dating.


Yeah.

I'm pretty sure they had sex. Which, I can gather from her blog.
Which.. I was most threatened by.


So. Fuck me.

Haha.

But, okay.

So. Yeah.


Anyway, deep breath.


Katherine and Dakota are dating.


Dakota is a great guy. Katherine's a great girl.

I'm finding out a lot about my insides. Like, I'm not one to pick out matches. If I ever had that talent, it's left me high and dry. Probably some time ago, really.



Dakota deserves someone that can love him, and baby him, and be sweet to him, and talk to him when they're upset, and cuddle with, and be romantic with.

Katherine deserves someone that can love her for her, not for who she sometimes TRIES to be, and who will talk and listen with her, and who has the ability to be sweet and caring to her, and who can role play. (I'm sure he could if he put his mind to it.)



I don't know, man. I just don't.

I'm worse off than what I thought. But also, I'm better off than I thought.



I feel like a wounded bird a lot.

More often than I blog about sometimes, even.

Makes me feel pathetic and worthless. But I'm not necessarily pathetic or worthless.
I'm just.. I don't know. I just need some work. Some fine-tuning, maybe.

I know that it's all going to be okay, legitimately.

I know that everyone's going to be okay, and everyone's going to have troubles and happinesses, and then we're all going to die.



I know that many many things that hurt now, that stress me out now, that make me angry, or lead me to feeling betrayed, ..I know that those things will fade or get better. I know that in ten years, most things aren't even going to matter at that point. That the "big" things now are just going to sail on by. Sail on by.

I'm hurt. I am.
I'm scared. I am really scared.

I was upset (to put it lightly) that Katherine began talking seriously to Dakota. Even though we weren't friends at the moment.
We always fade in and out of each other's lives though. We float.
Friends don't do that to friends. Friends just don't.


I was upset.

I blamed her, and tried to protect him from myself. From the hateful, harmful thoughts I was having. I shielded him and put her in the spotlight.



I just wanted someone to hear me. To realize what's right and wrong, morally. I wanted to be told that I was right. That I wasn't in the wrong. That I was brave. That I was worth being proud of. I just wanted to be helped.


It isn't anyone's fault. It's life. Life just is.

Dakota and Katherine are dating.


All we can really do is be ourselves. Try to help ourselves find comfort in who we are, and try to help people find their way, too. All we can really do is be us, and let someone be apart of that. A part of that greatness that we all are.

I don't exactly know how to do it yet. I don't know how to be a girlfriend. Or a good girlfriend. Or a good friend. Or a best friend. Not anymore. I used to, I can and will honestly swear.

But that's all.



Day after day. Day by day. Day to day.
This is all we have.

This is all any of us have.


Who can say what's right for anyone beyond ourselves? And even for ourselves sometimes?

Why can I be so wounded when they're just living? Playing out their days as they should? Being as happy as they can be, while they can be? While the moments present themselves?




I'm not the boss.

I'm not in charge.

I've fallen.


It's going to all be okay.

I'm going to live. I'm going to live every day until I'm done.

I won't be done until I die.



She will always be a friend of mine. I know her. I wouldn't hurt her (other than hit her, like I've told my family, which .. I wouldn't hit her. Not really), I wouldn't talk about her, I wouldn't say things about her to make myself feel better, to make her look bad, to skew the situation, to harm her name, her reputation.

I'm sad, I was hurt, I was upset.

I'm sad. I cannot claim this to be the foundation of my sadness, because truth be told: woe is me.

I'm working on it. One day, soon or far away, I'm going to run into someone who's going to be there to help me work on it. To help work out my kinks. To sit me up straight, and reteach me how to walk, how to breath, how to function.



It's nobody's fault.

Feelings. Thoughts. Actions. Emotions. Responses.
DO NOT HAVE TO =
Backstabbing. Vengence. Hatred. Jealousy.

They just are what they are. Complexity fucks up everything. And society promotes it. Our peers surrender, and we surrender. We do as we see, as we hear, and we know.

We forget to think on our own, to do as we would. To feel ourselves. To believe ourselves. To listen to each other. To believe in each other, in the good of one another. We are all good.

We are all good.

We forget to believe each other.

We forget to listen. We forget to care.

=?

It's not God's bad that Paula cheated on Alex.

It's not God's bad that Dakota is with her.



I don't want to have to be sad, if that's what it takes for me to really write.


I wonder if He sends me weird dreams, with the intention of me writing about them. Taking them, and explaining, and twisting them.

And I just don't.



If I did, ..would I be lighter? Am I being sent strange dreams as tests, to see what I'll do with them, or ..?

If I start doing what I'm supposed to do, will the dreams turn into something more serious? Something that will matter? Something that is needed to be known, to be interpreted?




Are my strange dreams, my bad dreams, my scary dreams, my too-good-to-be-true dreams, my disguised dreams... are they the start to something serious?

Am I not cursed with slumber, but blessed with the power of dreams?

_x______

I feel like I wish I wasn't so ...in seemingly desperate need for instant gratification.



That would cchange a lot of things for me.





Including writing.

Because I waste things on nothing,, instead of saving them for a more opportune time/moment.

Why do I write here.



I wish strangers would read this, because I'm sure no one else does.




Not that I care.

Probably not, anyway.

Shrug.

I hadn't realized how often I talk to myself in my head, until yesterday. At work, I was holding a conversation while cleaning the ladies' rooms.


And then this morning, when I woke up from a dream and was telling my friend Mark all about it, ..and finally realized that Mark wasn't there, and I was just talking out loud for no reason.




Trick of the day: Wear mascara only. Makes your eyes seem brighter.

"Don't ever wish to be anything but what you are." -Thumbelina's mommy

What to do now?


Now's the time where I try to fix my mistakes.



I'll work very very hard.

I'm going to make myself happy in small ways until I'm finished with all of this.


This year is dedicated to erasing the majority of my failed student loans.

To bettering myself.

To exploring interests and ideas.


I'm taking one day at a time.

I'm smiling more than frowning.

I'm enjoying my present, and I've got faith in my future.


This year is about living up to my potential.

Embarrassing, bravery, mistakes, missings.

Most embarrassing moments:

-Sophomore year, my history class was walking to the media center to work on a project. I was just thinking as I walked, and I suppose I got so involved in my head that I walked straight into the middle metal detector. I fell backwards, and landed on my ass. Half the class ignored me completely and just kept walking, and the other half just stopped and stared at me. I slowly got to my feet, saying "I'm fine, it's okay, I'm alright." No one cared, lol. But for the rest of my time in high school, that teacher would always run into doors and walls whenever he'd see me in the halls, or happen to come in a classroom I was in-- just to be funny.

-The last time I saw my good friend, Bobby, we got really high, and were watching UFC. The sound of the television messed with my head a lot, and it ended up being an uncontrollable torture. I threw up in their trashcan. I had to lay down, with the tv turned down, and sleep a little before driving home. Even when they woke me, I wasn't fit to drive. It was the worst drive I've ever experienced, but to this day, I'm still embarrassed to death about throwing up from being so high.

=======================

Most brave moments:

-In college, I took public speaking. I'm terrified of talking in front of people, but I passed with flying colors. I made each speech very intense and dramatic topics, so that I'd concentrate on holding myself together, instead of concentrating on everything else. One speech, I cried, and shook-- trying to tell about Tim, his death, how it haunts me, the dreams, etc. Another speech, I talked about how my great grandma'd just died, and how she hated me, and how I couldn't manage to be sad at her funeral.

-In beauty school, I had a crush on a guy, and I'd written poems about him, and finally, I'd taken him outside to the parking lot, and told him that I liked him, and that I think he'd like me too, if he just gave me the chance. He told me to 'keep your chin up, and look to the stars.' Gee, thanks.

-On New Year's Eve, I declared my love and readiness for a friend. I was scared, I was nervous, I didn't know how to go about it. I wrote two pages of notes on my computer, then condensed it to four text pages. I was going to kiss him at midnight, even though he has a girlfriend. Even though, I'm not "that kind of girl." I didn't, due to some blockage, but I did read off my notes, as he played with a Rubic's Cube. He told me he'd be my friend.

==============

Biggest mistakes of my life:

-Picking Castle Junior High over Boonville. (I may not be anywhere close to this situation at this point.)

-Graduating early, without a better thought-out plan for the future.

-Letting the girls in beauty school make me feel worthless. Thus, eventually causing me to drop out.

-Not forcing USI to give me a new roommate, thus helping my drop-out.

-Not staying in Florida once I was there.

-A majority of my tattoos.

-Not realizing that I look forward and backward, but never right in front of me, as I should've been, for years.

==============

Best times of my life:

-Gatlinburg w the majority of the family in July '09.

-Nashville times w Mark and our friends.

-Florida times w Dakota in the first 6 months of '09.

-Toking times w Megh in '08, throughout beauty school.

-Times w my moped.

-Riding the past two years, everywhere at any time, w Pop on his motorcycle.

-Lunches w Gram and Mom, in secret.

-Bookstore Jesus-talks w my brother.

=================

Miss the most:

-Having a purpose.

-Having a best friend.

-Knowing that I have someone to listen to me, and not tell, and not judge, just ..be there.

-Being comfortable around a guy (x2) (both fails, apparently).

-Gram taking me out of town when I got stressed out.

-My spontaneous trips.

-The beach.

-My moped.

===============

Wants the most:

-A karoke machine.

-A peekapoo puppy.

-A different car.

-To pay off all of my school loans.

-To be right.

-Things to turn around, and end in my favor.

-A legit lifeplan.

-To have my former close-people learn what they need to, and choose to come back to me.

-To get fixed.

-Desk stuff.
-Empty books.
-Books.
-Photos.
-Candles/candleholders.
-Antiquey things.
-Make-up and girlie things.
-Bathroom stuff.
-Hair tools.
-Shoes.
-Coats.
-Jackets.
-Pants.
-Tops.
-PJs.
-Dresses.
-Sweaters.
-Towels.
-Random stuff.
-Bags/purses.
-Dishes/pots and pans.
-Food.
-Appliances.
-Christmas stuff.
-Furniture.
ANYTHING ELSE?

Just letting you know,

I'm doing just fine.


The first five days of the new year have proven to be great for me.

Of course, maybe a half hour after midnight, and the next morning, didn't seem to be so ..beneficial-- but starting the first at 11 o'clock am, it's been very good to me ever since.



Thank you, Alex, for making me start the new year.
Thank you, Casey, Andy, Bobby, Natalie, Cody, and Alex. For being my friends.



2010. Year when it changes.

104.

O-k, fuck my life, sometimes.


But hey, fuck you, too.




Love,
me.