I can’t sleep. I’m lay here wide awake with the urge racing through my veins. Maybe my trip to Rock Bottom wasn’t a day trip, maybe I need to kick about down here for a little while but without collecting souvenirs. I’m completely med-free at the moment. I start the new meds on Tuesday morning, I need them to work and I need them to work fast. I also need Mo to pull their fingers put with an appointment soon. As much as I journal, as helpful as it is, I think all I’m doing is taking what I’m feeling and creating questions. I don’t think I’m coming to any answers. Maybe that’s where therapy comes in to it? You’d think I’d know this shit after 20+ years of being bounced in and out of therapy. You’d think I’d be a pro at self reflection, but honestly, self-reflection, self-care, self-love, it all just makes me want to crawl up my own arse and stick pins in my colon. I honestly can’t think of anything worse than having to look deep inside myself and “make connections with who I am.” How am I supposed to connect with myself when I more or less hate myself?
I have my strengths; I’m very capable, I’m good to have around in an actual crisis. I can stay grounded when all around me are flapping. I’m very academically capable and coherent. I’m trying to focus on my strengths and good points here, I know I have my weaknesses, I am my biggest weakness. I know I have my bad points, but right now I’m trying to focus on the positive in the hope that I can trick my brain into learning that I can be my own best friend rather than my own worst enemy. Apparently my honesty is a strength…right up until I actually use it with others. Then they think I’m an arsehole. Maybe I am? Or maybe they are for thinking that honesty is a bad thing?
Speaking of being an honest arsehole; I asked Straight Girl about the whole Valentine Debacle. She understood that obviously Pidge and Bub come first at all costs. I made the mistake of asking what our deal is, what her expectations are. She has no clue what she’s expecting and wanted to know what my thoughts are. So I told her. Big mistake? I asked her outright if I’m just a token part of her sexual confusion or if I’m just part of sort of sexual fantasy, OR is she actually thinking she’s not straight and I’m the lesbian equivalent of sticking your toe in the bath to see if it’s right for her before she adjusts accordingly and settles down with someone else. She called me a dick and told me that she’s questioning NOT confused but that she wants to make her own way down the rainbow path privately before she starts opening up to the world. So that made it all about as clear as mud. Well done Kit, well fucking done.