C'est · la · vie.

I have someplace to live. I have a job. I make good money, and save most of it at that (and by most I mean whatever I don't have to pay VCU). I have a loving family. I have loving friends. I shouldn't complain.
.
But I'm finding it really hard to like anything about myself these days. I have zero confidence in myself right now. How can I? I'm forced to be a dependent. I make my own money, but I give half of it to my mom. Nothing seems fair or right. Nothing makes me happy. Parts of me have become that indifferent and apathetic person I hated two years ago. I can't get comfortable no matter what I do. I can't sleep unless I pop 3 Tylenol PMs an hour before I go to bed. I always wake up half an hour before I have to be at work, no matter what alarm(s) I set, which barely gives me time to get dressed and brush my hair before I have to drive half way to Powhatan; so I never feel presentable. I feel like I always look like I just got out of bed, which means I feel like I always look kind of shitty, which means I feel shitty about myself. As superficial as it may seem, when I have the time to put thought and effort into getting ready, I feel like I look more put together, more presentable, and generally better about myself. I feel like I look more like a contributing and useful person and less like an uncouth crazy person.
.
I don't feel human. I don't feel anything. I get up and go to work. I do a good job. I go home. Sometimes I go to the city. Sometimes I sit in my room by myself. I read a lot. I'm knitting more. I have to occupy myself or I break down. My family watches a lot of TV and I've found that I can hardly even focus on TV anymore. My mind wanders. I get emotional for no reason, or seemingly no reason to those around me. They don't know what to make of me here. It's not right for me here. But I don't have any options. I feel so fucking limited and by my own hand. I did this. I got myself stuck in this horrid place that I can't seem to find a way out of.
.
I feel completely alone through it all too. My family doesn't understand me. They think I'm irrationally unhappy here. I don't have a good reason to not be the grateful and adoring tenant they think I should be. I even feel like my friends don't really understand. Despite all I've said about my situation here, very few friends have enough knowledge and understanding of my family and my past to completely know the struggles I am going through now. I feel lost in the dark. I've never been afraid of the dark until now.
.
All I want is to get away from this. I don't want to live at home anymore. I don't think it's helping me find my way. I don't really even want to be at VCU anymore, but I've made it pretty impossible for myself to transfer. I don't want to drop out. I don't want to work at the jewelry store for the rest of forever. This was all just supposed to be temporary. All of it.
.
My mother thinks that she can comfort me. Oh how I wish she was right. I miss the times where she could fix it all. I miss the times when I felt comforted about anything. I miss the times when I had any control over any aspect of my own life.
.
I wish I had more hope. I'm usually better about that. I'm usually better about keeping the goal in sight. But every time I try to catch a glimpse of my goals, they seem further and further away. Stuck at indefinitely postponed, or forever being pulled into the horizon. Either way, always out of reach.
.
I feel completely helpless and hopeless and useless.
I feel like I should go back to therapy.
.
And to top everything off. Of course. Go me. I feel really guilty for feeling the way I do. Silly Caitlyn. You know you're not supposed to apologize for how you feel, right? I feel so guilty that I can't be who my parents think I should be. I feel so guilty that I'm sad all the time. I feel so guilty that I can't just be happy at home or anywhere. I know how stupid it sounds. I know how stupid it is. But I can feel the weight of guilt on me physically. I feel so heavy now. Like there's always an elephant sitting on my shoulders.
.
I get so low sometimes these days that I actually hope things won't get better for me. As if that would justify my unhappiness. So I won't feel so guilty for being unhappy. I guess. I don't know.
.
I really fucking wish the sun would fucking come out already.

I don't know where to begin.  I have so much to say these days but the words that come to mind never seem quite right.  I feel like a younger version of myself.  I feel like I did in high school.  Back when everything was one big question mark.  And I suppose that makes sense.  I've put Theatre VCU behind me.  It was never right for me to begin with.  Today was my first day without classes.  Weird.  Nate told me not being in school helps you appreciate it a lot more.  I can already tell that's true.  I found myself looking at what classes I can take in the spring.  I don't know where life is going to take me.  I guess I never did, however, the options seem endless now.  At first, I was relieved.  Goodbye Theatre VCU and good riddance!  But I've realized that maybe I stuck it out so long not because of my love of it, but for my lack of passion for anything else.  Acting is right for me, but not Theatre VCU.  I've done a pretty good job ensuring that I won't be able to transfer anywhere.  So I'm not sure where to go from here.  I can pretty much get a degree in anything I want now.  But this doesn't change the fact that I was never concerned with the degree at all.
.
I'm really lonely.  To the point where my throat gets tight when I think about how long it's been since I've been involved with anyone.  To the point where I've started wondering what could possibly be so wrong with me that no one can stand to be attracted to me in any real sense.  To the point where I'm counting down the days until I turn 21 so I can go to bars and maybe meet people that way...I feel desperate and vulnerable and I hate that.  I hate this time of year for always making me feel this way.  I hate that I'm hardly interested in anyone and when I am something always gets in the way.  
.
I feel more disconnected than I have in a really long time.  I miss everyone.  Even the people I hang out with.  Even when I'm hanging out with them.  I'm not sure I've ever missed anyone I was in the presence of before.  
.
My stomach hurts all the time.  And I can't sleep at night.  And I don't want to talk to anyone usually.  
I'm going through a weird transition, and I'm not sure how it's going to turn out.
I'm not sure of anything at this point.
.
I really want to go away for a few days.

So classes start tomorrow.  I'm embarking upon my fifth semester at VCU.  This year should be my junior year, but I suppose I'm more of a "super sophomore" than anything else.  I'm feeling pretty good about this year.  I think I might finally be in the right mindset to get this whole college thing right.  Ha.  I can't really have another bad semester.  I don't think I'd come back again.  But I've grown and changed a lot since I first started here.  Even since last semester, just this summer alone, I know I've changed a lot.  My view of myself and my capabilities is much clearer.  I suppose I'm finally starting to understand who I'm becoming.  It took me a little longer than some.  But I'm here.  And I'm ready.  And I will not be brought down by my own insecurities anymore.  
.
On a different note, living at home has been better than I expected.  I miss the city all the time though.  Especially at night.  I miss hearing the trains pass through.  I miss being able to leave after 10pm without coming up with an excuse.  But it's been good for me so far, and I can only hope that it will help me improve further.  However, I still don't want to spend more than this semester commuting.
.
I miss dating.  LOL. I know that's really the last thing I should probably be concerned about right now.  But you know, it's been a while.  I've been rockin' the singlehood, and it hasn't been awful at all.  But I feel like I'm finally starting to get to a point where I'd be open enough to get close to someone again.  And I wouldn't mind that in the least!

First off, I want to admit that I've been really good this summer.  I've been relatively happy, for me, at least.  I don't cry as much. LOL.
.
But tonight, I started and couldn't stop.  I let my mind get the better of me.  I let myself break down for the first time in months.  I cried.  I bought a pack of cigarettes.  I wanted physical pain to match how my heart feels, but didn't give in to that one.  It's been a year since I've done that.  And I had to stop myself there.
.
I cried about what happened with you for the first time in a long long time.  I'm not even sure if I was as happy then as I remember being.  But it still saddens me.  After everything, after months of going back and forth and finally finding ourselves on similar pages, last summer I thought it was the real deal.  But it was never honest.  And it was never about us.  There was you.  And there was me.  But there was never really us.  I pretended there was an "us" for a while.  I walked around in blissful ignorance.  I think that's why it hurt so much at the end.  Everything I had tried to deny for so long.. Everything we pushed aside into the shadows was finally brought to light.  I think the truth of it is that we fell in love with the idea of each other.  Looking back over the whole year-long story, it doesn't seem real to me.  Sometimes I don't know if it happened the way I remember it.  Even the very end seems somehow altered in my memory.  And that frustrates the hell out of me.  How can something I don't even remember exactly continue to keep me awake at night?  I hurt you in the beginning.  You hurt me in the end.  I don't even know how you felt in the end.  I don't even really remember the end.  I do.  But I don't really.  It's all a blur now. 
.
I never blamed you.  But I did. I didn't blame you for what happened between us.  But I blamed you for how it influenced me.  How I haven't been able to get that close to anyone since.  How I haven't even given anyone the chance to get that close to me.  How I go to bed alone and wake up alone.  How I can't bring myself to rent Watchmen or eat clementines in the car.  How I won't let myself get rid of that dress you first saw me in, even though I'll probably never wear it again.
.
I walk around pretending it doesn't hurt anymore.  And I've done a good job convincing even myself that I've moved on. 
.
I don't want you to worry or apologize or feel guilty or anything.  I still think about it though.  I suppose that's what this whole thing comes down to. I'm fine.  I'm okay.  I'm livng my life and I am generally pretty content with things.  But I was told tonight that I have the mind of an artist and I think more than most people and that can cause me more pain than any thing you ever put me through.
.
I don't miss it.  And I don't want it back.  But I left my heart somewhere in the late warm night air of last summer.  The boys these days don't seem to understand that I don't have anything to give them.

I woke up at 3:45 and took an adderall and went back to sleep for an hour.  I got up by 4:30 and made tea and did the dishes and chainsmoked a shit ton of cigarettes.  I took care of Dylan, who is sick.  I woke up Shelley and made her tea as well.  Then I talked.  I talked for two hours straight.  I talked at Shelley, since she was still pretty much asleep.  But I need to talk.  I need to unlock the secrets I keep in my heart.  As corny as that sounds, I need it.  I need to put everything out there because life is too fucking short for me to let all the bullshit I have clog my soul.  Starting today, I am making changes in my life.  I am going to go back to the Psychiatrist and see what they have to say and see what they think will help me.  I am going to bring my grades up.   I am going to audition my heart out.  I am going to work hard and save my money.  I am not going to smoke so much pot or stay up so late every night.  I am going to change for the better.
.
I know that I say things like this every now and again and it never works out.  But this time it's for real.  I can be a better person and I can be successful and I can be happy.  And it's about damn time I let myself do that.  And this time it's different, too.  I have an urban family who believes and me and supports me and they will push me to make these changes that I want to make.  Because they know that this is what I need to do to be at peace with myself, for the first time in a long long time.  It's going to be hard.  And they know that.  And they want to help me.  They won't let me push them away like I did all my friends last year.  They are here to stay.  And I believe they are honest when they say that.  
.
I am changing my life for the better.  And I can do it.  Watch me.