It’s been three months since my last post. Has there been any changes since then? I’ve been struggling with sleep. My medication makes me sleep for hours. I just can’t figure it out. It doesn’t help that I sleep so late. I’m up until the next day. I don’t sleep until 3 to 4 am. It’s currently 4am. I have to be somewhere in a few hours. I’ve been working a lot lately. I’ve found hobbies that I enjoy. I’ve started exercising regularly. I’ve only realized recently that I haven’t been eating enough. I have a hard time managing my time. I have difficulty doing the things I need to do. I just don’t know where to start or how to start. I keep telling myself that I will do the things I need to do when I have time – but that’s my problem. I don’t have the time. Or I don’t make the time. Sleep is really affecting me. I need to sleep, but I sleep late. The hours before sleep, I waste. I call it spacing out or zoning out. I will space out for hours. I know I have to sleep but instead I won’t. I need to make a plan and stick to it.



Here I am again. I want to do so much with my life but there is so little time to do everything. I am filled with want and wonder. Even though I am at a stage of my life where I should be settling into my career, I can’t help but feel that there is something out there that will bring me more joy, that I will value more. I’ve always held the arts dear to my heart. Language, music, simply forms of expression. There is so much of me that I want to share with the world regardless if anyone will listen. I’m slowly taking the steps of putting myself out there, letting the world know that I am here, that I exist. I want to be the person I want to be. But at the same time, I am conflicted with the person that I have built my career on. I don’t want to choose between the two, I want both worlds. I want to be an academic but I also want to be an entertainer.

I always say to myself, the next day, the next week, the next month – I’ll start my academic life again. I keep pushing it back, pushing it and pushing it. Waiting until “the time is right,” – until I have the time, until my life is not so crazy, until I can afford it, until, until, until. So many excuses. I don’t want to make excuses. I don’t know where I heard it but I heard that with projects, the biggest struggle is between production and perfection. In order to complete a project we must do it because it will never be perfect. I have probably said it wrong but I am always striving for perfection. For whatever I’m doing to be the best. But I’m not the best and that’s okay, because everyone has to start somewhere.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the time and luxury of going at my own pace. I have a major deadline. The next step of my career hangs in the balance and everything is dependent upon whether I can prove to my superiors that I am worth the time they put into me. I know I haven’t been reliable, hardworking, or diligent – but I’m going to try. I’m going to produce something, even if it’s not great. I need to start moving forward, even if it’s small steps. At least, I am moving.


The semester is almost over. I have experienced a lot of changes since August. I visited my partner for a few days. I finally got out of that rut that I was in. I was beginning to develop feelings for someone else. I knew it was because I was lonely and I wasn’t genuinely attracted to that person. I’ve been spending way too much these days.

I will stop spending money.

I don’t regret the purchases I made, I am really happy with them. I need to control my money now. I’m a little stressed about my financial situation – well not really. If I want to earn more money, all I need to do is work more. I just need to stop spending so much. I’m trying to manage my time better as well. For the first time I will be sleeping before 1AM. Lately I have been sleeping at 4, 5, or even 6AM. I have also signed up for a gym membership. There are many things that I want to do, I’m finally going to do them.


It’s been awhile. I’ve gotten into a skin care routine. I never imagined that I would enjoy it. My skincare routine is one part of my day that I genuinely look forward to. I’ve been off from my part-time job for the past several days – it has truly become a part-time job. I am scheduled to work three days a week. The semester will be starting soon and I can anticipate that the load will be heavy. I didn’t do too well last year. I will do better this year.

I miss the formalities of dating. I miss looking forward to meeting someone in person, someone you are attracted to. I miss the calls, the text messages, and the little surprises that come with dating. I miss being able to hold someone’s hand, embrace them, kiss them. I just miss the intimacies of being in a relationship with someone. I don’t know if it’s the medication I’m on but my libido has drastically decreased. I’m not interested in sex as much as I used to. My ex-boyfriend would’ve been happy with that, he didn’t have a very high libido. I’ve been reminiscing about the lovers I have had in the past, not too often but when there is something that reminds me of them. I just loved the way they made me laugh.

I met a girl, cashier at a store, and there was just something about her that attracted me to her. I don’t know if it was her smile or her eyes. She looked to be a genuinely nice person. She was a little clumsy and a little dorky handling my items at the register, I felt so attracted to her. Something inside me wanted to connect with her. I could see her being my friend. If I bump into her enough, maybe I will ask her to coffee or something. I’m not too sure what people do these days to become friends. Usually asking anyone out gives the wrong idea.

These days I feel out of touch with my partner. I think it’s just the distance. Sometimes I feel like I should see other people. I don’t know, I just feel so stagnant. I feel so bored.

I wish I could push myself to be like the fictional characters that I look up to so much. I’m just not excited about the tedious work that comes before the success. I need to shake that feeling of instant gratification.

I know I can graduate this school year. I believe in myself.


Today was my second day off. I don’t normally get two consecutive days off. I was scheduled off yesterday in order to attend a company function. Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself. Today is also the first day of the actual dose of Strattera. There was a titration period of 15 days. I generally felt good all day until mid-afternoon. I became somewhat irrational and I felt judged by my partner. I began raising my voice and having strong feelings. The feelings I felt strongest were shame and guilt. I felt ashamed that I was relaxing and enjoying myself. I felt guilty that I have been spending my time and effort into my interests and trying to find new friends. I felt bad that I haven’t done any of my research this summer. It kind of snowballed from there. I didn’t have dinner at the time but I didn’t feel hungry. Strattera curbs my appetite – most times I don’t feel hunger at all. I cried because I felt angry. I was angry at myself and I felt that my partner wasn’t being supportive of my efforts and of my interests. I felt extremely alone at one point. I felt I was on a rollercoaster of emotions. At one point I felt as if I was not allowed to be happy. That I am a slave. That I am not allowed to take care of myself. I said, “I’m not allowed to breathe unless I am working (on my project).” It was rather over the top. My partner calmed me down by telling me to eat and by watching a show together. We hardly ever do anything together these days. I told my partner I feel alone because I am alone.

Eating and watching two episodes of our show put me in better spirits. I admitted that I wanted to take a break. I got over the guilt and the shame and worked on a schedule. I feel that I will be alright as long as I schedule a week in advance. To keep me in check of what I need to do.

Despite my outburst this evening, I have finally found how to relax and how to enjoy myself. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.


I concede. I can’t  make myself a morning person. I’m sure I could try but all I would be doing is tricking myself to do things I usually do at night during the day. I’ve accepted the fact that I usually sleep at 2-3am and fully wake up at 2pm. It’s really a vicious cycle. I have noticed that I am listening to music again. I have not listened to music (on a personal whim) for maybe a year and a half. When I “fell” into my debilitating depression I did not listen to music, I did not eat, I did not do anything really besides working. I didn’t feel like talking, I didn’t feel like going outside. All I wanted to do was stay in bed or stay home because I was afraid of crying for no reason. It was really bothersome and it took a lot out of me having to be conscious to not cry at work or at school.

The type of music that I enjoy listening to is 2000s rock or emo. I don’t know what it is about that period that I’m stuck on. I will never get tired of listening to Coheed and Cambria, Death Cab for Cutie (The Postal Service – to be honest Ben Gibbard), Dashboard Confessional (to be honest Chris Carabba), or Panic! At the Disco (to be honest Brendon Urie). Certain albums encapsulated my life at the time that I was listening to them.

Coheed and Cambria and Dashboard Confessional really helped me through the bad years of my life. I was very unhappy at the time – listening to these bands took my mind off of what was happening to me, but also I could relate to some of the songs. The loneliness, the betrayal, the heartache.

From time to time I think of my ex-boyfriend who is probably still playing the bass guitar for a band. He is handsome and funny. He wasn’t very ambitious but he was a very simple guy. He dumped me because I was too ambitious. He told me that he couldn’t stand being with me because he felt intimidated by me. His friends would boast about my accomplishments, his parents would nag him about his lifestyle and compare him to me. I really loved him. Even though he didn’t have a clue of what kind of work I did or how hard I studied for my degree, I loved him just as he was. He made me laugh, he made me feel that I didn’t need to be someone amazing to be by his side. I wanted him to love me the way I loved him – he just didn’t feel that way about me. When I told him that I loved him all he said was thanks. Recalling those key moments, he doesn’t sound like a very great guy. He really is a good guy. He hasn’t had a girlfriend since he dumped me. To be honest, I check on him now and then. Part of me misses him, I won’t deny that. He’s still doing the same thing. Still gigging, barely playing the bass, still working his 9-5 job, still living with his parents. He’s still handsome.

My boyfriend now, was a guy that I really liked while I was dating the bassist. I don’t know. There was just something about my current boyfriend that I was really attracted to him. I was faithful though. I avoided him at all costs. But my current boyfriend had a lot of things that my bassist ex didn’t – muscles and brains. Yeah, I’m shallow, whatever. When my bassist ex started pulling away from me (impending break up) I started working out, dieting, and making myself up. There were so many times the thought would cross my mind, “if I wasn’t dating the bassist, I would so date so and so.”  Well, I got dumped. I really didn’t think my boyfriend would have been attracted to me, I really thought that I was friendzoned from the get-go. He was just waiting for me to be single, so.

There are some times that he’s kind of dorky though. He’s still young, I’m sure he’ll get less dorky when he gets older. We’ve been dating for four to five years now.

Lol I just checked his profile. Still single.



I wanted to continue the morning pages but when I wake up, hopping on and writing is the farthest thing from my mind. I am reading the book my counselor suggested I read. She told me about it last year. I've had the book since November of last year. I have never read it until now. I read it last night. I can only read a few pages at a time. I don't understand why I am afraid. I'm afraid of the words. I am afraid of reading on. My heart is racing, my eyes are tearing, my face and my ears are flushed. The words are common words, but here and there they bring me back to that place. The place I don't want to be. Old memories that have been pushed down and forgotten.

I am alone in my studio apartment. My house is secure. No one is with me. But why do I feel so afraid? No one can hurt me. No one even knows where I live. They don't know my telephone number. They don't even know that I am miles away. I know that I have to continue reading to heal, I know that. But still I am afraid. I'm starting to regret pushing my counselor's appointment to a month and a half. I think I will call her and see her. I think I need to see her. I don't understand, why am I so afraid. Why am I crying? I am not hurt. I am not in danger. Why. Why. Why.

I know what happened to me. I want to get better. I know I have to do this even though I don't feel strong enough. I know I can get through this because I have people who will support me. They will support me even though they know what happened.

I feel fear. I feel anger. I'm so angry. Why did this happen to me? I didn't do anything to deserve this. I was just a kid. I had so much potential. I could've been something. I had hopes and dreams. Why am I stuck? I keep thinking things could have been better if that never happened. Maybe I would've been done with my degrees by now. Instead, I am stuck. Just running in this wheel, making excuses to not finish my thesis. Pathetic, pathetic.

Feeling sorry for myself. Pity party. That's what he would say. Even though he is not here either, I hear him in my head. I hear my mother in my head too. I hear my father in my head, my grandmother. I hear them. Everyday, they tell me how I'm not good enough. Not smart enough. Not attractive. Overweight. Lazy. I hear them, over and over. I can't see past their voices. The whispers are coming back. Why, why. I've been doing so well. The medication, it's been working. They have been quiet. But ever since I started reading this book, they're back, I hear them.

They say I'm a liar. That I should keep it to myself. Don't spread rumors. No one will believe me. I'm not lying. It happened. Believe me, believe me.

I never wanted to be sexually abused by my father. Who would ever wish for that. Heavy breaths, so hard to breathe. My eyes are blurry. I have to read at least a page, two pages, three. I have to. It's hard, it's difficult. I'm still alive, I can do this. I can. I can. I can. Even though –

Rain. Darkness. Breathing. Touching. No, I don't want to. Please stop. Please. Don't do this. Please.