And How You Were the Rock of Gibraltar, and how They Called You Foxy...

Okay, so here goes. Life is crazy. Stupid crazy. Enough to make me consider a bunch of things that I -used- to do and wonder whether it's a good idea to pick up the habits again. And, in my craziness, or stress, or whatever, I've managed to kind of bitch about it a lot I think. To friends mostly. To maybe a select few. I realized today, that people don't like me as much when I'm talking about my stress.

Back in the day, I don't know, I guess in early high school, I was such a strong chick. I didn't need anyone. I didn't have to rely on anyone else for anything. It was wonderful. Even in the midst of suicidal depression, I still did a good job of managaing everything--more or less. Lots of writing. Notebooks and notebooks and notebooks. I didn't tell anyone about anything. I just wrote about it. I used to say that writing and Jesus saved my life...'cause it's the truth.

And then sometime relatively recently, (college?) I got into this whole idea of sharing and feeling. If you talk about how you feel, you'll develop closer friendships. You'll be able to get some of your shit off of your chest, out of your head, out of you. And I guess that kind of worked. But, I think now, that it was a terrible idea. Not forming those friendships, but letting go, to some extent, of that insane amount of strength. I used to swallow everything and it wasn't always easy, but I did it. Now, I hardly swallow anything because I think I need to feel and share and all of this emotional bullshit. Why do I do that?

Something about being bipolar I'm sure, but hey, I'm learning. And I'm really trying to do the best I can.

I think at some point, I kind of lost myself, the cool super strong Arianne that was so easy to like and get along with. And now I feel (there I go again with that word) that I'm spending a lot of time trying to prove to everyone that I'm still fun.

I'm gonna make a comeback, guys. Watch...it's gonna be rad.

--
Arianne