Shoot Me Now

My diary.

My issues.

My problems.

My happiness.

My success.

My failures

Writing out what I'm going through at this particular moment in time is never easy. I write in the moment - every day. I never think about what I am going to write until the second I sit down. Perhaps that's my downfall. Maybe I should start to think about what I write before I sit here at my computer and blab about absolute nonsense. Perhaps. Maybe. But that means preparation, that means planning and lately, I can't get into it enough. I can't seem to get into anything.

For months I've sat at this computer and discussed what an asshole Ted was. I told you about people I've dated in the past, present and even what I would like in the future. I've told you about my goals and my aspirations, I've even tried to fool myself into believing things that are simply not true about me. I try to motivate myself by putting everything out there into cyberspace telling myself that if I write about this or that, it might actually happen all because I said so.

I know I am a silly girl, I've written about it here. I know I am profoundly fucked up....but here's the catch - I'm still a good person. Nothing I do or say is intentionally mean spirited. I want to be happy, but I don't know exactly what makes me happy. I feel incomplete because of this. I feel broken - I still don't know who I am and what my convictions are.....is it because I just don't give a shit? Am I selfish deep down and I don't care? Am I really THAT committment phobic that I can't even committ to a single thought or idea?

Think about it for a second. I'm not a republican or a democrat. My parents raised me Presbyterian, yet I don't practice, nor do I care to. I'm good at every sport I try, yet I don't play anything consistently. I go to the gym, but I can't seem to go every day like I should. More like I go for a few weeks, take a few weeks off, and then start up again. In addition, I find interest in just about everything, yet nothing captivates me. Same with men, they are all ok, but no one is like "it" for me.

Too hard on myself? Yeh - ya think? I know we all go through it - but why is it so easy for some people to buckle down and excel? Why can't I be wired like that? I know I can excel at anything, yet I'm too busy being content with contentness. I'm honestly sick of complaining about it. This site is for me to air out my demons, let it ride, but at the same time, try to figure it all out. Figure out what the hell will make me happy.

We have all at one time or another felt like running away. Sometimes I feel that the only way to change, is to dump it all and start fresh. I'm SO like that. If I'm going to clean out my closet, I rip it apart and rebuild it. My filing cabinet at work, same thing. Rip apart, re-build. I can easily rip apart, but can I let go? Can I move on and rebuild? Should I drop friends and become a hermit to help overcome? Should I rip off my clothes and go streaking? I have no idea.

Sometimes I feel that if I didn't have the friends, the family, the men, that I would just pick up and go. But my family and friends would miss me.....but when do I stop thinking about them and think about me? And do I have the balls to do such a thing? Absolutely not. I like to tell myself that I do, but really, I lack that confidence.

Ooooo confidence. Another can of worms....nah - I have confidence in myself...to an extent. You know what? I think I need a shrink. Yep that's the ticket. Shrink it up.