This week is unbearable. I’m not sure how it became that way. It started out fine enough. I went to church, which was okay, and I had an ordinary Sunday afternoon with my family. Kind of blah, really. I said goodbye to my uncle and his girlfriend. She was nice, but I didn’t really have an opinion about her. Maybe I’m just too tired to care about other people’s business.

Somewhere along the weekend, I broke. I’m not sure what did it, exactly, but my suspicion is on the combination of “Forever Princess” (the last Princess Diaries book) and The Naked and Famous’ “Young Blood.” (Check out “Punching in a Dream”, too, if you have a chance!)

I feel torn apart.

I use those books as indicators. Since I’ve grown up with them, I can recall all of my feelings and ideas from adolescence. They serve as a point of reference for me. I can look back at who I was and who I wanted to be and see where I’m at clearly.

I don’t like it.

I’m terrible at being honest with myself. My mom has always said so. But because I wasn’t honest with myself, I didn’t believe her.

Whoops.

I like to think I’m getting better and growing up. In reality, I’m far less confident and self-actualized than I was at fifteen. I desperately wanted a happy ending, as silly as that sounds.

I have anything but that right now. The worst part about that is that I’m the only one holding myself back.

And because I haven’t been honest with myself, I haven’t been able to write very honestly. Or much at all.

After all this time, I really can’t believe that I don’t see my writer’s block as an indication of an internal problem.

Like when I quite writing after my heart was broken junior year (my fault, of course!)…I couldn’t even bear to write till a year later. And I quit very shortly after that, due to the train wreck that was my public life. All I wanted was to be invisible.

It started out just as exhaustion from dealing with too many demanding people I didn’t even know very well. Then it started showing up in friendships, where I was unconsciously distancing myself, because it was too hard to talk and be even the tiniest bit raw.

I cracked this week with my sweetie, because I’ve been slowing pushing him away. The nice (and awful) thing about a relationship is that you can’t hide from yourself. Everything catches up with you.

This desire for invisibility isn’t even all, or most of it. I have eating issues, health issues (at least THAT’s not my fault!), confidence issues, spiritual issues, emotional issues (I really just need to get a grip!)… It’s a lot to sort through before nursing school, but I’ve got to. Otherwise, I won’t be very useful. Maybe I can turn over a new leaf before I move.

Too bad I can’t use being fifteen as an excuse. Here’s to being honest with myself!

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