I'm scared of things that go bump in the night and of the toilet bowl that doesn't stop running.
At 30 I've finally realized I'm mortal.
I still cover my ears and close my eyes if I can't run out of a room when balloons are being blown up.
The ones who understand me love me, but I still feel alone.
I haven't eaten a Nutrageous bar in a very long time.
Things taste and feel and smell different, but not always better, and I think I was cheated and was always supposed to be this way.
I'm mourning and grieving for who I was and who I'm supposed to be now. I've always denied definition and now I don't know how I'm defined.
I think I haven't brushed my teeth in two days.
I don't know if better is better..maybe it's worse.
Gilr Pug turns 10 today, and as I look at her gray chin and her round eyes and her fat tummy I don't know why I can't love someone the way I love her.
When I look in the mirror and see my tattoos, I still get startled and wonder how they got there.
I want my hair that was short and red to be long and blonde and fall in my face so people can't see me.
I miss cooking and crying and sweating and swearing and drinking and smirking and shaking and shouting. But I don't know if I'll ever do it again.
I only do dishes now when I've run out of paper towels to put my Hot Pockets on.
My uncle, a doctor, asked me where I saw myself in a year and I curled my fingers into my palms so I wouldn't poke him in the eye. The same night, another told me he always knew something had been wrong with me, as if that made it all ok, and I curled my fists into my stomach so I wouldn't throw up on him.
I think I'm depressed but I don't feel sad. I feel calmer and zen and centered and that's kind of scary.