Scared to go to bed at night because I know the night terrors could randomly come back at any time.
Scared to wake up in the morning because that's when the depression is the worst, due to the realization that I am once again conscious, and living in the same sick and depressing state that I went to bed to.
But mostly I am scared of assimilating back into society. Going back to school, finding another job etc....
I'm scared of going back to L.A...In such a fast paced environment, I know I am going to be mentally and emotionally 'run over' and left in the dust. There's no time for mourning in L.A. Just like there's no crying in football.
Especially considering that I am trying to become a famous actress and all that jazz...it would really require me getting right on the grind, going back to memorizing lines, calling hella numbers, getting to auditions...I just don't know if I can do that right now...
School may be a BIT easier, because at least I'll be surrounded by intellectuals, for the most part. [Man, nothing grinds my gears more than ignorant people, and they exist in college too]. But yes, I only have class 2 days out of the week this semester, and a lab on Fridays, I think I can manage.
I'm more concerned about the more specific social aspects of integrating back into society. Such as speech, behavior, acceptance... Which is weird, because this whole ordeal has led me to virtually not give a FUCK about anything, but for some reason, thinking about returning to L.A. really bothers me.
I have changed.
My attitude, my way of life, my sleep habits, even the way I dress has been dramatically altered by this life-changing experience [I think I now look like a lesbian biker if you ask me]. Hell, if cigarettes didn't disgust the fuck out of me, I'd probably turn into one of those girls on Tumblr who takes black and white nudey photos of herself smoking.
Yeah, I've turned into THOSE types. The overly [mentally] introverted and philosophical wino kids you see hanging out in Berkeley, wearing rags for clothing. I don't smile very much anymore...or laugh, unless I am with a very specific group of people. And I know that L.A. is the "you must smile and appear mentally stable at all times" capital of the world, so it frightens me that I may be involuntarily forced to be fake, or to "cheer up" to make other people happy. To be honest, I wish people would stop expecting me to be OK, because frankly, I'm not OK, and I won't be OK. That's just the way it is.
I am growing accustomed to the person that I have become. I told myself a few months ago that if my mom died, I would probably become a super shitty person. Probably strung out in the street on drugs or something. Well, it's obviously not at that point, nor do I think I'm a SHITTY person, per se. But I will admit that I have become a bit selfish, squeezing the little taste of joy I can get out of life, without necessarily thinking [or caring] about the consequences. I have begun treating the world the way I feel that it has treated me, and thus far, for the most part, it has worked to my advantage and kept me afloat in situations where I would have otherwise whined like a little bitch. Speaking of bitch, to be blunt, you could say that I've become one. But then again, I've always been kind of a bitch. Not like the rude, ignorant kind of bitch, but like a Regina George bitch. The kind of bitch you want to have around because she makes funny comments about ratchet hoes. But then again, that's probably just because I'm from Nor Cal and that blunt mentality has been ingrained in me. Anywho, I've also become a more "grungy" person, in the sense that I wake up at like 2pm, do nothing until like 9, then go out and get fucking trashed at the bars. To be fair, that is partially due to the fact that I just turned 21, but I am clearly drinking copious amounts of alcohol for a reason.
Lastly, I am scared to love.
Everyone I have ever truly loved has left me at some point, whether voluntarily or involuntarily. My mom's gone, my dad bailed when I was 11 (then came back when I was almost 18, wtf) and almost every boyfriend I've ever had has been long distance or moved away. My doggy Max is about 13 years old now, and I am going to be absolutely devastated when the time comes for him to go, though I know it's a more natural process than everything else that's been happening in my life. I just don't do too well with change. I'm terrified to get super close to anyone because I know the second I begin to love them, they will be gone in a flash, happens every time. But don't get me wrong, I am not bitter about being single or anything like that. Having a boyfriend would significantly stifle my style and the new 'baddassery' that I am going for. It just kind of sucks that no one's gonna want me now because I'm a broken little girl with daddy issues and problems for days. "Damaged goods" to quote a previous asshole.
-Webpups
[Totes didn't mean to post this on Valentine's Day. Just kind of happened. Deal.]
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