i don't really mean what i wrote, about wanting to move home. this living-on-my-own thing is an experiment i committed to for a year, i'm not going to crap out in month 3.

one of the strongest people i know, my sister, told me over the phone a few days ago that i'm being very brave, doing the physical and emotional work i am doing right now, and doing it on my own. i bring this up because lots of people have come to me and told me what they get from me - a sense of calm, of courage, of passion and ethics - that i don't feel in myself. which makes me wonder - who is right? are they, and am i not truly seeing myself; or am i throwing up a very convincing glamour?

this is who i see: someone who gives a lot, but not necessarily for the right reasons; someone who's scared of silences; who doesn't take nearly the same risks she used to; someone who is not very good at taking care of herself in the grown-up way; someone who can't communicate what she's feeling unless it's absolutely exploding out of her; someone who's scared of her own truth.

what is my own truth? right now, i'm tired. i have to be up in eight hours so i can go to therapy. from there i plan on yelling at the internet people, then going to class, then coming home and eating leftover rice and trying to write some poems and reading margaret atwood. i'll try not to think about money, or that this week i'm starting anti-depressants.
but that won't be so bad, actually. i always forget, does neo take the blue pill or the red pill? well, i'll be taking plenty of red.

i think i'm going to write myself a love letter. i need one. i'll post it later.