Stress and Feeling Pretty in My Fucking Feelings

I convinced myself to log on and write. Ivr been meaning too for a while I just never get to the writing part. Been having a rough time. My therapist thinks I might have ptsd.

I was going to write about this really long dream I had about J. A party, crying, water rising around me drowning old wedding planning pamphlets, ruined books, memories of my dog, tacos, and bowls of m&ms, and lots of time talking to him. It was a hell of a dream. But I dont feel like it.

I was going to write about all the secrets I have from him. I guess they arent really secrets. I would tell him if the right moment ever came along, but it never does and it’s all too late now anyway. Yet my mind can’t let go of all the things I never told him. Things I hid so carefully from him so he wouldn’t know I cared. My brain needs closure, but I fear I will never get it so what am I to do?

Not a word from him at the last show. Everything was tense. I was anxious and sad and panicky. I texted my new friend for support. The one who wanted to help. The one who I thought could help me handle this. It seems like he’s not very dependable, or maybe just doesn’t care as much as I thought. Or maybe he doesn’t understand how bad it gets for me. I haven’t really made any effort to communicate since. He took me to an event that made me panic a few days prior. I was surprised that he knew just what to do. He also took his sweet ass time to do it so it wouldn’t interrupt his day. He made me feel bad the whole time about not dressing prettier. I was wearing a dress. Maybe he should have specified. Or given me more than a half hour notice after a long day at work. I guess he’s not the gem I thought he might be. Still a friend though.

I go out places to pretend to be social while hiding and keeping to myself. I’m isolating, but refusing to make it obvious. Not many people notice when I do that anyway. People arent keeping tabs on me. They assume I can take care of myself.

J thought my sad face was an act for him. Because I was dressed pretty. He thought I was putting on a show and he seemed upset about it. Went out of his way to ignore me. Funny. One guy upset that I’m not dressed pretty enough in a dress, and another upset that I’m dressed too pretty in a pair of ripped pants. Good thing I dont dress nice at shows for him. It’s my excuse to wear some of my favorite things. I felt a little better after I took my evening meds. Still had a good couple cries this last week though.

Staying up with suicidal friends, being assaulted with other peoples hateful thoughts, running around town to help people, being treated like a second class object, being put on a new treatment for ptsd, it’s all just getting to be too much. Yet somehow I’m still getting things done.

And Js pretty girl came and talked to me. I was so happy! It really made my night! I’m so afraid that I’m going to say something wrong. Watching them dance and flirt makes me feel all warm inside. I love seeing them happy. I just wish I could bask in that happiness and not be an outside viewer. But some wishes never come true. It’s okay. There are other things to wish for.

I can’t wait for school to start but I have no idea how to find the time and energy for it.

I’m exhausted.
I miss my son.
I need to find a way to make this all work for me.
So much pressure.
So much to do.
So little time.
So little sleep.
I can do this.