Today was pretty amazing. It started off rough, with a bad dream making me wake up in panic mode, and then a text from the ex causing a slight bit of strife. But then something cool happened: I responded, and it was okay. Like. Things didn’t get horrible, at all. And this weight was lifted off my shoulders. Or, more accurately, out of my stomach. Without me having to vomit. I’m not sure exactly what was going on, why I was so afraid. But there’s hope for this thing yet. I don’t even know what that means. But. There’s hope. 

Then I went on the best practice drive EVER. I’m gonna book my test as soon as possible and see what happens. Then I’m going to get the fuck out of town, maybe drive around the prairies for a few days. It’ll be good to get out and breathe. Sidenote: My car’s name is Ingrid, after Ingrid Third from Fillmore. Yep. I love her.

While my mom was getting a massage I hung out in the car some more, listened to excellent music and talked to excellent friends. An old friend from junior high recently contacted me, and we’ve been reconnecting, which is crazy. People change so much, so fast. 

Then there was family time. Good television, good conversations on the balcony. We talked about the origin of humour, which is fascinating. Why do we find things funny? What is the evolutionary purpose? That kind of stuff. 

Fall in love with yourself! Good day. 

I am trying to get a job and I CANNOT CONTACT ONE OF MY REFERENCES.

That has been a lot of my last couple days, plus lovely friends. Good times of tea and heartfelt talks. I truly have some extraordinary friends. I just wish there was more time in the day for them! 

Um. Is talking about sexual experiences off-limits? If you think it is, just pass on by.

A friend came over last night and we stayed up late, talking for a while, and then she began to instruct me in the ways of harder rough play than I’m used to. Which was new, and kindof exciting, though I’m unconvinced that it’s really me. I am a person that enjoys the soft, silly parts of sex far too much for, like, choking. I would rather make a joke than hold the sexy mood, and that doesn’t always serve me well, but that’s what happens. 

Sexual anecdote: one time I got so caught up in a submissive character that I actually could not find myself again for a little while. It was scary. And. Interesting. And I’d like to do some research so I know how to do these things more safely. 

Anyway. Always have safe funtimes. And take care of yourself, in any situation, because you deserve it.

I LEARNED HOW TO MAKE RICE KRISPIE SQUARES.

AND WE MADE A CASTLE OUT OF RICE KRISPIES.

… That pretty much sums up my day. Very chill, very calm, working on my resume with my mom, doing laundry and baking with my dad, and then going out for a bit of belated co-birthday dinner. Tomorrow, or possibly Monday if tomorrow is too busy with music and stuff, I’m getting a one-way ticket to JOB CITY. Allllllll right. 

I had an odd realization, recently. If I was given responsibility for a child, I think I could handle it. Minus the financial stability, but that could be worked around if I tried hard enough. I just. It’s very odd to feel like I would be able to raise a kid. Y’know, have the patience to stay cool in stressful situations, have good enough ideas that I would feel comfortable proposing them to another human being. I mean, I’m sure if I did suddenly have a baby then I would probably freak out a bit and have some doubts, but in the end? I think it would be okay. And that’s extremely weird. And cool. 

Being an adult is cool. I’m excited to actually start the “real life” part of it, but for now, growing emotionally is good. I have a good plan for the next few years that doesn’t depend on extremely-unlikely job opportunities, like being a musician or writer. I’m not planning to stop being those things, but the more I think about it the more I realize that I would be completely content with being a therapist for the rest of my life. That said, my ultimate goals are still to write for games, play regular shows with a band, and maybe have a weekly-updating web-novel. But it’s nice to feel secure, to not worry too much about scraping my place out among the hundreds of incredible writers I’ve met. Maybe that’s partially because I’m worried that I’m not good enough to stand with those writers, but that worry is just going to be there, and I will keep writing and trying despite it.

The fact is, my life is starting to line up. And that’s amazing. 

First step, though: Get this coffee shop job, despite having zero experience. Wish me luck.

Have a good night. 

Days of tiredness. Band Practice->alcohol and lovely friends->five hours of sleep->skype date->helping a friend move in->dinner->skype date. And now it is very much time to sleep. 

Not too many thoughts today, aside from how nice it was to see an old friend yesterday. I found it difficult to get back into our old flow, I couldn’t remember many of our old in-jokes, that kindof thing. I’m always pretty quiet when I first meet someone; I need time to assess who they are and which parts of me to emphasize. And it was kindof like meeting her again, but it was weird because we had been really close, once. Alcohol helped me get back into a social zone, but because we all had troubles that felt serious it was hard to be lighthearted. We didn’t even talk very much about our difficulties. It was just nice to get in one space and feel some feelings together. Sharing them, unspoken. That was cool. 

Goodnight. You’re lovely. 

So. This is a thing that’s helping me understand depression. If I’m ever going to be someone’s therapist, I need to really understand the depth of the illness, and clearly I can’t do that from personal experience alone, if at all. I’ve been trying to make my approach less obnoxiously hopeful over the years, but I still think someone around needs to have some hope. I mean, yes. Life is kindof arbitrary, and if you’re not a fan of spiritual explanations then it’s pretty much pointless. Experiencing things makes it worth it, and if you can’t experience things, then I cannot imagine how difficult that is.

But the truth is that things always change, things always end, at some point. There is literally nothing infinite in this world, except perhaps time and the smallest bits of matter. And does time mean anything if there are no beings to experience it? I’m unsure. Anyway. If change can be a little piece of corn, it can be anything. It probably won’t be like a switch flipping and suddenly good things, and it’ll probably be one shitty step at a time. And most steps won’t feel at all like progress. But things will change. I promise you. 

Okay. Made a mistake. Not a drastic one. Just read some words. And. I’m clearly still not very good at this whole thing. People care about me and my life is awesome but I am still fucking shaking on the floor.

It is really okay. This is just my body having a reaction to subconscious guilt and stress and lack of sleep. I am going to be okay. I am going to stop shaking and go to bed. Here we go. 

Made it. 

As I said, birthdays are stressful, but it’s nice putting teenagerdom behind me. It was a time before my frontal lobes had developed, before restraint and emotional regulation. I’ll always value my emotions, they’re pretty important to living a good life, but rationality is equally important and I enjoy having access to that whole world. I’ll still fall in love, I do it all the time, and the impact is not cheapened at all by a filter of “but if they don’t enjoy me back, it’s not the end of the world”. Love is pretty incredible, no matter the form. 

The day itself was pretty chilled. I woke up to my stupid alarm because I had to receive a package for my mum, but the delivery guy was nice so that paid off. I treated myself by buying a game I’ve been interested in for a while, and played until choir, at which everybody was super cool while singing the ugliest rendition of happy birthday there’s ever been. My family harmonizes; my choir uses tri-tones. It’s how we roll. 

I had a nice walk home through the river valley and came in to my mom having a bit of a freakout; her work is really stressful lately and doesn’t look like it will get better anytime soon. So we had a sit-down chat and I think I was able to help. I like doing that, so that’s a pretty good birthday gift right there! Dinner was nice, family was nice, and a silly celebration is in the works. 

Some ick kindof ambushed me on my way to write this. I’ve still got some shit to sort out about various mental things. I mean, don’t we all? So I think I’m going to go see a counsellor and hope it goes better than the last time I went to one. For now the most important thing is to sleep and not dwell on the ick. It is okay. It is really okay. 

It is okay to start thinking apocalyptically. That is just how some people deal with stress and lack of sleep. As long as I don’t do anything dangerous, it is just fine. I will go to bed, I will wake up tomorrow, and everything will be brighter. 

Have a lovely evening, friends. 

DAY OF ANXIETY. I asked a favour of a friend, someone who’s like a hair-person-in-training. She cut my hair, and that was great. But the whole time we sat in a room of like thirty people who were all staring at me and I looked dumb because IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO LOOK GOOD WHILE SOMEONE IS CUTTING YOUR HAIR and the whole idea that I would worry about my own appearance that much is kindof silly, so then there’s this incredible cycle of bad feelings. But that’s okay! Because it ended, as all things do, and the anxiety faded away. At least until dinner, for which I made penne and pesto, but I didn’t make enough pasta and I forgot an important part so I had to cook more while intermittently eating. And for some reason I took it really seriously and kindof freaked out because I felt like I was letting my family down by making them wait a while. Today was like the ultimate proof that our brains are irrational and sometimes we just feel things and that’s okay. 

Something else related to being nervous: Birthdays. Within the hour I will turn twenty years old. And. People will pay a lot of attention to me, and it will be weird. Birthdays seem like a kindof cheap way to express love; as far as I can tell, real love happens through little things every day, not through lavish gifts and localized attention. Or maybe it’s more of a personal thing; perhaps I best express my love through offering to get a coffee, or do the dishes, or massages, or spontaneous bouts of praise, stuff like that. And other people best express their love through big gestures and well-thought-out gifts. Yeah. That feels right. No love is cheap love, it all means something. And honestly, I’m probably just jealous because I’m bad at gifts. Heh. (In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not really editing these. It’s a journal! Free-flow, and all that shit.)

After dinner we went for a drive! I think I’m ready to license it up. Which will be awesome. The only question now is who to invite and where will we go? 

Sidenote: I miss people. Longing is so unique.