I Do Solemnly Swear...

This weekend, I will

• not worry about the wedding.
• not worry about my parents' opinions/emotions.
• not worry about making everyone else happy.
• eat well, but not unhealthy.
• drink a lot of water.
• go to the gym and sweat hard.
• not call myself fat.
• compliment each girlfriend I talk to (honestly).
• hold on to a hug just a little bit longer.
• not feel bad about abilities.
• be thankful for my raise.
• be thankful for my job.
• read my bible.
• read my book.
• thank a friend for being my friend.
• love my fiance, without fear.
• let my fiance love me, without fear.

Mute

I have nothing to say. I have been wondering, though, why it's so hard to remember and hang on to the good (trust, faith, love, hope) yet so easy to let the bad in (doubt, fear, misery, hopelessness). Why is it that I could be facing, eye to eye, a happy and joyful day, and the very next morning (maybe even the very next breath), be overcome with fear for what's to come. Why do I ruin it?

Things are going fine, lately. I'm not sure if it's the very realness of the possibility of the Czar having to move for a new job, but I've been on the receiving end of some random acts of affection lately... and it really weirds me out. I'm suspicious of it. I don't buy it. Regardless, I should not fall into despair because I received a "Have a good day" text.

Every morning this week, I've woken up already in a state of panic. In the shower, at the sink, in my car, the panic follows me. I wonder if this poison can ever be extracted, or is it there forever? Or maybe it's just that I know doom is coming and that anything good has to be patiently waited for. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak.

Eventually, though, even I get tired of holding my breath, peering around each corner. At that point, I have to just shrug my shoulders, grab my coffee, and keep going.

Fancy Meeting You Here

Typically, when something comes along to ruin my day, I let it. It ruins me. Through and through, I give in to the anger and bitterness, and I let it flow freely... in my mood, my words, my thoughts.

Over the last 12 hours or so, I've been confronted with the oh-so-familiar cancer of negativity, but something is keeping me from giving in. I'm still angry and bitter, don't get me wrong. I'm the same girl. But there is a stubborn cheerfulness and hope deep inside me that is refusing to let it consume me. It's like being mad at a friend who has just eaten your last french fry, but they tickle you to make you laugh. You don't want to and you cross your arms and try to frown, but instinctual reactions make the sides of your mouth curl up and eventually you let it burst into laughter. Ok, fine, Joy. I will let you win today, old friend.

Why Do I Bother?

Mother's Day lunch. $150.
Mother's Day bouquet. $50.
Never-ending backhanded comments, vilification, and ingratitude. Priceless.

What a waste. Happy F-ing Mother's Day.

196 days.

The Perpetual "Off Day"

When I was first learning how to drive, my legs and arms would be sore after just a few minutes of driving. I realized that I had been so nervous, all my leg and arm muscles were clenched the entire time. A very physical indicator of my emotional state.

Lately, I guess I just haven't been feeling like myself. I notice I feel like this the most at work and in social situations. When I'm alone or with the boy, I feel a little more relaxed, but should I run into a coworker or acquaintance, small talk is such a chore and I can't muster up the energy to com up with the typical response I would give. I can't make a joke. I can't think of a follow-up question. I feel like it takes years to finally answer them. What should I say?

Nothing. I having nothing I want to say. A friend says that it's because I'm overstimulated, overwhelmed. I'm not free. Maybe that's true. The feeling reminds me of that time in my life where I was learning to drive. I may not have been driving erratically, no accidents occurred, I never hit anything, and no one ever hit me. But sheer nervousness, a complete inability to relax, meant that my body was in a constant state of tenseness.

I keep thinking, I'll be better tomorrow. I'm having an off day. But everyday, I sit here wondering why I feel so "off" or "out of it." Whether it's from holding on so tightly to my sanity that I've exhausted myself, or from holding my breath until the wedding that I'm suffering from oxygen deprivation, I'm tired. I'm tired, and I'm tired of being tired.