one day at a time

"I'm not a saint but I'm not a sinner, and everything's cool as long as I'm getting thinner..."

the last few weeks have been hard, impossibly hard. in an effort to keep the pain at a distance, i have taken to partying, a lot. maybe not the most amazing decision, but it's better than all the other things that happen, and all the other ways i feel when i'm alone. on a happier note, i am making a lot of new friends, friends that come and sit with me, drink some wine and watch movies when it's too hard to be in my apartment alone. friends who take me out dancing when i don't want to hear my own thoughts anymore (we stand directly beside the speaker, no arrant thoughts could possibly enter above that noise, ha.) friends who remind me that although i feel like crap, feel completely worthless and unloveable, that i'm actually pretty awesome. (i know it's hard to be someone's self esteem for them, so to these people i greatly appreciate it. you're words are what keep me out of a dark hole.)

i'm ready for a move. specifically out of this apartment which oozes patrick. every wall, every doorway, every picture hung, every piece of furniture, makes me think of him. it's very taxing. so in an effort to change what i could, i have rearranged the entire apartment. flipped everything around in an attempt to make it feel less like "our" home and more like mine. i get to move mid-july. i have secured roommates, we are searching for places as we speak. somewhere with a yard for brodie. somewhere close to campus (hopefully in the fall we will all be heading back... the jury is still out on that). somewhere that is party friendly. these thoughts give me a goal and make it a little easier. however, if i don't get back into school, maybe i'll just flea columbia entirely. run away to san diego with ann marie. or finally make it down to charleston with erin and kt. either way, a drastic change is needed. i hope mostly for school, and continuing to develop the friendships i have recently made. we shall see.

A stolen idea from Bridget Jones:
Number of cigarettes: 2
Number of pounds lost: 7
Number of boyfriends: 0


"I don't know what's right and what's real anymore. I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore. When do you think it'll all become clear. 'Cuz I'm being taken over by the fear..."