Two hundred posts

My name is Heather Adams. I danced myself right out the womb. I have long hair. Someday I will cut it. I am terrified of elevators. Sometimes I laugh at people who cannot open the back doors of the bus. I am a vegetarian. I suspect that someday I will eat meat. I wish I was taller. I wish I was more funny. I wish I could hold onto people the way others seem to do. But instead I feel my fingers constantly slipping and when I look down, my hands are empty.

You will die the way you lived

What gets me is those things, the stuff you can't wreck or sterilize. It just floats around unsolved, without a specific place to be and you don't know what to do with it. To put it away would be too hard and leaving it out is too painful. So instead you just leave it. You do nothing. Then you look back months later and find that sometimes it has put itself away. And sometimes not in the place you were initially inclined to keep it. And sometimes it hasn't moved. But by far the worst is when you believe it to be safe and put away and out of nowhere it jumps out and hits you in the face. And you still don't know what to do with it and it hurts just as much when the catalyst of time hasn't worked. So what do you do?

As I know it

I'm sorry to say that it has descended into the level of ugliness. I got a text message late last night saying "I'm glad I found out what kind of person you really are," and more shit about how I'm such a horrible person and don't know anything and am so immature.

I'm trying to be diplomatic, I really really am. But in my gut I feel angry and nauseaous and incredibly hurt. I would have taken a bullet for Gina. And it's so hard to have that person turn around and hate everything about you. Because of two words. And two words that I feel justified in saying, at that. It's as if I'm being attacked from the inside out. The only one who has enough of me to break my heart.

It's hard trying to find the balance between sticking up for yourself and being civil. I don't want to go down to that level, I'm not going to be petty or cruel. But I'm cracking and I can hardly find the strength to hold myself together through this. It does feel like the world is ended.

Oh yeah what

I am absolutely dying to do it again.

And not just for the sake of doing it,

but more because I'm feeling very adventurous.

You are like an arrow

I refuse to lose my shit tonight.

Regression is not an option.

I'm so excited to go to New York.

Also, I was told yet again that I look like the girl from Chronicles of Narnia. I don't know? Maybe if I had freckles.

Is there a ghost?

First of all, I am aware that it sounds like I am a complete tool when I say:

I've discovered the best way to accept this:

Step one: Be sad about losing it. Crying is optional but recommended.

Step two: Realize that you are alone with the giant hole in your heart.

Step three: Become independant and ok with being alone.

Step four: Fill the hole with something even better. Wake up and look at the amazing friends that are still there.

I'm quite proud of myself for having come this far in such a short period of time. But did I have a choice? Life is by no means over. One step a day? We'll see how this weekend goes but if anything I've realized a shitload of things about myself in the past week. Nice work, Watson.

Snowden

My faith in humanity has been absolutely shattered.

I don't understand why someone would be willing to throw away something so important over something so small.

On the other hand, my faith in myself has increased exponentially.

I still feel alone, but it's a different type.

Just let it seep

This weekend has been heart-wrenching.

Normally I'm not fully understandable, but I'll say this in plain english:

On friday someone at work told me I was intellectualy smart, but socially I should be locked in a box. The people who heard laughed and nodded, and I went home and cried before going back to work. The fact that someone would voice that opinion out loud, to my face cut incredibly deeply. Not to mention that social awkwardness is a huge sore spot for me. It just tore up old wounds and left me breathless.

When I did get back my friend saw that I was upset and told me to grow up and stop being so immature. I was so angry at her insensitivity, I told her to fuck off, and for the rest of the night she refused to talk to me. Yesterday and today were hardly better. More than anything this is what hurts me. Especially since it took until last night for me to realize why she wasn't talking to me. I didn't actually mean for her to. The strain of yet another good friendship is incredibly painful. I don't want it to be this way, but I'm getting shot down.

My mother is baffled as to why I keep crying. I woke up both mornings with eyes swollen almost shut. I feel like half of me is missing. Please don't think this is an exaggeration. Maybe I'm just not meant to be one of those lucky people.

Junior high style

Hmm...

I think I've made up my mind.

First of all, I don't think it's fair to become involved when my heart isn't in it.

Second of all, I think it's good to realize this now rather than later on, despite the fact that I still do feel like a huge idiot.

I know everyone makes mistakes, but I can't seem to get mine back into proportion. Instead they are clouding my vision and giving me that sickening lurch in my stomach when I remember them. Then I cross my fingers and blindly hope that my flaws are really not as obvious as I believe them to be.

Also, I think I'd like a polaroid camera.

Two am nonsense

To start things off:

Is it possible that I don't know what I want? That I am simply drifting and taking what is convienent and at my disposal? That is definitely something worth pondering along with the question of whether this is a cheap way to live or not.

Maybe I just don't care anymore. I'm not even hungry these days. I vomit too easily and I can't fall asleep. And not because I don't want to, and not because of adrenaline, but more it seems there is no point anymore.

I'm sorry if I'm a buzz kill.