lonelyThis journal has seen a lot of changes in my life. In fact, I don't think I ever kept a journal for such a long time, not on paper. Always had a tendency to get annoyed at what I previously said and rip pages off my journals to set them on fire. Can't exactly do that to this one, so it's survived. Been abandoned a while, then I come back, write a bit, disappear again... I'm not exactly regular. In any way.
I'm scared. Not morbidly scared, can't do anything. I'm doing (almost) everything I'm supposed to. And if I look at things positively, my life has never been as good as it is now, but that just means I have so much to lose. And while I've got lots of opportunities in front of me, I have just as many chances of screwing up. And I'm scared.
Geez, I just gotta find something to complain about, don't I?
I'm tired of putting up with the same old problems I can't fix right now. I'm tired of complaining about them. I'm tired of getting the same looks and replies when I talk about them. I'm tired of hating people just because they're tired of it all, just like me.
I want to make sense sometimes. It's not as intuitive as it should be. I'm still confused about a lot of things, although this doesn't make me fall apart anymore, thanks to therapy, I guess. There isn't much more psychology can do for me... I've learned to walk with my own legs, now I just gotta, you know, do it. I think I'm coming along alright.
This feels like going back in time. I hate this rambling on and on in a public place almost no one will see. I've gotten used to human interaction during my rants. Can't remember how I lived without it. And I did live without it for a very long time. Didn't have anyone to talk to until... fairly recently. And now, to return to this?
Well, I do still have a lot to say.
