It's May! The more I think about it, the weirder the name is. Why is it May? What May happen? I'm repeating it over and over in my head, and it sounds so weird, and now I'm doubting that there actually is a month called May. There is, right? I'm not just May-king this up? Ah yes, well. I suppose any month sounds funny if you say it enough times. Like March. That's another verb. It could also be an imperative. March! Where are we marching? The future! At any rate, it's nice that it's May, because one, E's birthday is in May, and two, it's the month right next to June, and you know what happens in June, don't you? Oh yes! Barricade day (the day the historical events in Les Misérables took place)! No, just kidding. But actually, E will be here on that day. We should cosplay together and flex on all the people on the internet. I always did think she would be a good Eponine, and as we all know, I'm Cosette and a half, so we could be the wlw couple that Victor Hugo was too much of a chicken to write. I mean, I would rather cosplay as Enjolras, but I'm not blond. (I was thinking of getting blonde highlights, though-- like a balayage, maybe) (except that's expensive and I'm poor) Anyway! All this is to say that things are Exciting!
I think I should legit stop drinking on my own entirely. Like, I'm careful, and I do it in small amounts, and only when I'm not experiencing cravings, but this morning, I feel sort of down, and I think it's because I drank a glass of whiskey last night. It could also be because I'm on my period, but I think it's the alcohol. As seemingly every health professional loves to condescendingly explain to me, alcohol is a depressant, and will make my pre-existing depression worse, and so it seems a bit weird that I would drink it, now, doesn't it? Yeah, man. Why did I do that? It's sort of funny, when you think about it. I really did just go in there and gulp down a nice heavy glass of depression, didn't I? Boy oh boy! I need to get myself together.
(I'm not going to stop drinking or smoking at parties, though, so let's just get that out there)
Should I drink an energy drink? I already had half of a grande Starbucks from yesterday (Mom bought me a white mocha), but I sort of want more zip and verve. But I only have two energy drinks. Still, I could probably go to the store today, so I guess that's not really a problem after all. Is this more of my hoarding tendency? But also, should I stop drinking energy drinks? They really help to control my urges to drink, and they make me feel really nice, and they help me get stuff done, but I guess they're a bit of a dollar-sink. Mom doesn't really love the fact that I drink them. She thinks they're unhealthy and expensive, which I guess they are, but they have such a good effect on me. Back when I was suicidal, having caffeine helped prevent me from doing anything stupid. So yeah, I think I'm going to drink a got damb energy drink. Monster or Red Bull? Hmm... the Monster is cold, but the Red Bull is more delicious. This is a question indeed.
Okay, I went with the Monster. I feel better already. Ahh...
You know what's really interesting? I truly, actually, genuinely want to stay alive now. Like, it's not even an ambivalence. It's an actual desire to live. It's strange, because I'm not used to this. At my best, I've had moments or even hours where life seemed desirable, or had times when death seemed mildly unpleasant, but it's never been like "oh damn I wanna live, not die." But now it is. I actually do want to stay alive, and I want to live my life to the fullest extent. And I believe that I can! There's nothing stopping me. Somehow, I've been granted the chance to fix things, and I'm damn well going to do it. It feels like it's going to be really hard, but that's okay. I wouldn't expect it to be easy. I did kind of make a giant mess for awhile there. But it's okay. I'm going to fix it.
I guess I'm already fixing it, really; I'm going to therapy, and taking my medication, and journaling, and not smoking or drinking (much), and exercising a bit, and eating healthy, and trying not to avoid things so much. In fact, in the name of not avoiding things, I just texted Blossom and Buttercup, asking to Skype! I was putting it off, because I hadn't replied to their messages for about a month, so I was too embarrassed to message them. But now I did! I really do miss them. I hope they're free soon. I feel somewhat that I'm rearranging my brain. I've had this picture in my head of a huge mess of cables and wires-- you know when you go into a really messy IT den and you have to watch yourself, because if you take a single step you'll trip on cables and empty Mountain Dew bottles? That's how I picture my brain looking. The synapses can't fire quite as well because it's a wreck in there, and it's dark and depressing and not a nice place to be. So I'm coming along with a toolkit, cleaning supplies, and a trashcan, ready to clean the place up. And it's slowly working. I'm rearranging the cables, putting things in order, opening the windows, polishing the floor, making it a nicer place to be. It's slow work, and sometimes things get worse before they get better, like when you repaint the living room and get Glossy White Number 3 all over your couch, but at the end of the day, I'm working to improve myself, and that's what matters.
Someone called me from Georgia, and by the time I got up the gumption to answer it, I had missed the call. Now I'm scared. What if they towed my car? What if someone broke into my apartment and stole my books? What if someone wants me to move back there and be a Southern belle? I don't know. Well, if it's important, they'll leave a message or call back.
I have to leave for therapy in a little more than half an hour, and I don't know what I'm going to talk about. I have to think about this. Last time, there was an awkward silence, and one doesn't want that. I do like my therapist, though. He sees right through me. It's sort of alarming sometimes, especially when he says things that are so spot-on that I'm half-afraid he's reading my mind, but it's good, and I feel like I'm in good hands. So, what should I talk about with him? Man, I really don't know. I can't think of anything that's super pressing right now. I've been in crisis for so long that now that the issue on the table isn't keeping me from dying, I don't know what to work on. I'm not good, but I'm decent, and it seems like that ought to be enough. Except, I don't think it works that way. Cece told me a really good analogy: say you work out a lot and you get a really nice butt. You have to maintain it; you can't just rest on your laurels and eat donuts. It's the same with mental health. Once you get to a good place, you have to do the hard work to keep yourself there. But since I don't really know how to do that, it's kind of a challenge. Oh, maybe that's what I should ask my therapist about. How do I maintain this? That's a good question. We'll deal with that.
Okay, I should go get ready. I have no idea what I want to wear, so this could take awhile. I'll write more later! (maybe)