Late nights with too much beer in the fridge.

It's 11pm and I can't sleep.
So I write.

But about what?

What I want to write about isn't pretty. It isn't funny or jaw-dropping or amusing (not like anyone thinks i'm amusing anyway. lol). I know I'm all about green donkey balls and unlimited beer bongs on here, but tonight isn't going to be pee your pants hilarious.....

It's just going to be me. A different me.

What about me??? I mean, really, that was a question to myself, what about me? What is it about me that is 'off' tonight? Or, any given night?

I'm going to tell you the hard truth. I have depression. Like a Mo Fo. Seriously. I was 'formally' diagnosed when I was about 23, but through that doctor and many others, we figured out that I've probably been born with an imbalance (love that word) to be 'happy'. Unlike 'other' people, I need to work extra hard to feel 'normal' (also another word I love).

Man, there's a lot of these ('') things going on in this post. Well, just bare with me.

A long time ago, I started moving from town to town. At a very young age. Slowly but surely I started becoming self conscience about myself, because it was harder and harder to make friends. Well that low self esteem just stuck. Then about middle school I moved to a town that had a 'you're not from there.....you're not from there' kind of mentality. So I was an outcast.
Perfect.

Oh everyone said, "you're beautiful, you're funny, you'll make tons of friends". Soooo not the case.
It was horrible.

So my already low self esteem just took a nose dive in Satan's shithouse. Head first. With it's mouth open.

So, what did I do.....I fought tooth and nail to graduate high school and get the F out of Dodge. (Almost literally, being from Kansas and all.) Once in college, things were a little easier.....at first. But it slowly started getting bad. Like real bad. I found out friends weren't friends and boyfriends sucked. Oh, and some of my family just didn't give a damn. Ya. That one hurt.

Then one day, by the grace of 'Someone' above, and my cousin Corey (who's my best friend too) I decided to change, to be the person I WANTED to be. That I'd dreamt about being.

That's when I started counseling.

And I worked 2 long and hard years to gain some of my self esteem back. Or more accurately, learn how to have some self esteem. Some high self esteem.

It was hard. And a LOT of work.

2 years. TWO YEARS! That's a long motha fucking time.

It was counseling once a week and biofeedback every day. (For those of you that have never heard about biofeedback, it's a technique of controlling your heart rate, body temp and sweat, that with practice, allows you to relax in stressful situations. If you want to know more, message me.)

So there I was, the ripe ol' age of 24, fresh off the looney train, and ready to conquer the world. With medication of course. ;-)

Now, at 31, I'm falling right back to where I was at 22. Depressed. Sad. Beaten. Down.

Why?????

Believe it or not, I am super shy. Like REALLY shy. But on here, I can be myself, I can act myself, and I can talk about all the dumbshit things I do. I don't care. Because for some reason, y'all are friends....and family....and I know that, despite only meeting one of you in person. But in 'life'.....helllz to the NO. Can't do it. I can't let go. I can't be myself.

I think that's the main reason I'm back at that 'dark place'. That place where I don't like who I am or what I've become.

I WANT TO BE MYSELF!!!!

I miss myself.
I miss ME!
I want to be the person that I'm on here, but out in the 'open'.

But is 'ME' good enough? Some people don't think so. Some people want me to be somebody else.

Is this making any sense? No? OK. Good. Then we're on the same page.

I've got so many things going for me. I've got a great job where I'm doing the most original things in the world. I'm a talented artist. I'm not that bad to look at (not being boastful, just saying that I like the way I look, wouldn't change it for the world, even with my double chin and Ben & Jerry's [thunder thighs].) I'm funny (at least on here). I love a Higher Power, not God per se, but a higher existence than myself. I love beer. That's a give-in. I mean, who wouldn't like a person that loves a frosty malt beverage???? Every.Night. I can be the sweetest person on the planet.....but then be the biggest stubborn ol'  bitch you've ever set your eyes on. I hate spiders. I love to bad movies. And if given the choice, I will read a book or take a nap instead of doing any type of 'work'. I also am more OCD than a chemist on crack.

What's not to love?

So the question is.....do I love ME??

AND: Do I care if others love me? Or if they don't love me.?
Despite my faults of depression and drunkardness. And my fear of spiders.

Another question is: How strong am I?
Can I be strong enough for everyone?

Well, it's been that way my whole life. Why stop now?
Except that I'm tired of being strong for everyone else. Why can't I be strong for me for a change?

Life sucks. My mind sucks. My emotions suck. Why couldn't I just be 'programed' to be happy? WHY?

Because that's not life. Life isn't happy.
Shit. I know that.
I lost a Dad. I miss Mike.
I lost friends.
I lost..............................well.............ME.

But, I've dealt with those losses, and I HAVE found ME again. At least, at one time. What do I do to find ME again?

I found 'ME' when I was completely alone. Not a friend or family member there. Now, don't get me wrong, I had some friends and some family, but I chose not to allow them into my world. It worked. At the time.

Do I need to be alone to make it work again?
i just don't know.

I do know that I'm damn near worse now than I was 10 years ago. That's a kick in the whoo-ha.

Part of me wants to go this alone. To fight my own battles. To fix my own problems. Another part says 'You need to ask for help!'.
But can I?????
Can I allow myself to ask for help, when at one time I figured it out on my own perfectly fine?
WILL I allow myself to BE helped?
And if I go this alone, will I regret it later???

Scary shit peeps. Scary shit.

Betcha didn't know I was this fucked up, huh?

Welcome to the Danger Zone.