I woke up about 20 minutes ago with the weirdest feeling. Anxiety probably, but I have no idea why, and it hasn’t gone away yet.

Figures. My one day off, and I have to be up at 7:30am.

Reading Postsecret this morning took on a whole new meaning, as I have been trying to put words to my emotions for days. I keep forcing myself to remember all the reasons why, and not the reasons why not? It’s those “why not?” reasons that are getting to me, fucking with my head, and making themselves nice and comfortable right next to my conscience.

Still, this morning brought a little clarity.

“You shouldn’t give up.
Fight for yourself and
who you are. You’ve got
to go through the worst
times in life to get the best.”

I keep telling myself that. I keep reminding myself what this all means, and how many people have told me these things. Especially in the past few weeks. My happiness means so much to so many people who love me, and how could I throw it back in their face by choosing the wrong way? It doesn’t matter anymore, it would be the wrong way; I am not healed, and until that day comes (if ever), there is no choice for me but where I am right now.

It’s scary. It’s definitely weird.

It’s actually really nice.

In another three years, this will all be nothing, and that’s what I am counting on.