It comes and goes, as it has for nearly 5 years now.

Actually, that's not true. It's come and gone for nearly 20. Same cycles but the host changes from time to time.

I hate to admit it but this one was/is the worst. I hate to admit it because it implies that she holds power over me. And since i hate her guts and think she's disgusting, I don't want to admit to that.

It's a bizarre feeling to be so convinced of something and then have that belief wiped away. It's embarrassing too. I'm not the same person in this reality as I was in the other one. Of course that's why the other reality was created.

But wait, this reality isn't completely devoid of accomplishments and identity. In their world things were framed unfairly. I was reticent and cowardly. I didn't come forward because I was scared of rejection and wanted to be comfortable.

No. That's not it at all. I didn't come forward because what I was experiencing was borderline psychosis. I was trying to run from fantasy, not to it. In reality I lived for years outside my comfort zone and thrived. I look back at what I did for those 10 years and have no shame.

It's funny. Some people hate going on Facebook and seeing what other people are doing with their lives. I completely understand this, although I don't feel the same. Most people feel self-conscious when all anyone does is show you pictures of their tropical vacations or the time they met the President. But those are just points in time. The don't comprise the majority of those people's lives, which are undoubtedly filled with the same ennui, doubt, and struggle we all experience.

But I don't mind the stealth boasting and the misrepresentation. And I don't mind it for two reasons. First, I realized at some point that all my old acquaintances who've gone onto bigger and better things -- the military, particularly my unit, opens a lot of doors -- have gone onto bigger and better things I wouldn't actually want to do. Oh, sure, I'd love to be able to *say* that I went to Harvard business school, but I wouldn't actually want to go. It would bore me to tears, just like XXXX did. No, they can do that stuff; I'm glad for them. But I'm comfortable doing what I'm doing.

Second, these people are real. I knew them. I was one of them. I was their equal. And that is exactly the reality check I need when I'm being drowned by my object. She isn't real. She never was. That's all some fantasy world my mind created. But when it gets blown to smithereens and I have to come back to reality, reality is not empty. I am real. I have a past. I have done things.

I saw a video with XXXX and his little girl. It's been, what, 13 years I guess. When I saw him I laughed aloud. It's like not a single day has gone by. He's wearing his BDUs and his gold oak leaves but he's the exact same guy. The exact same goof who used to study with me and bitch incessantly when I got better grades than him.

The reality is not better than the fantasy because here I am better. It's better because it takes no mental gymnastics to justify itself. It is real.

If China was sued for covid-19 and struck a deal with the people of the world then more people would be writing wish lists to china than santa.

so my previous blog was written on a good day, today is another story....

cant even pull myself together enough to leave my bedroom... its a viscous circle of bitter emotions and frustrating anxiety. my relationship is suffering... i'm loosing my greatest friend because i just dont know how to break free from thought of loosing him, or that he'll grow tired of trying to keep me happy. last night we spoke about my insecurities and he couldn't answer me when i asked him if he wants to be with other people... he just answered with i dont want to be the cause of your unhappiness...
the sad reality is that i know that if he did stray or look for fun in another girl i dont know how i would cope, react or fall. in my past i have turned to illicit drugs, alcohol and destructive behaviour to cope when i felt like things in my life werent sound and stable... but now i'm growing up and know the dangers of my binges i'm slightly scared of what path i may take...

my partner knows how quickly i can spiral and im paranoid that he'll just stay with me to make sure i don't go into self destruct mode... and in saying that i dont want to be the cause of his unhappiness.
he's been going out alot and not inviting me places, he says he just needs boy time and wants the best of both worlds, a relationship and a social life but i just cant help but worry when he's out that he is looking for cheap thrills because im no longer a bright and motivated person like i was when he met me. he's told me that he see's changes in me that are dark and my lust for excitement are disappearing... i've noticed it too. i feel like i am just a shadow of who i was, and im concerned that it is the medications that are doing this to me.

i used to be this confident, outspoken girl. i was modeling and printed in magazines, working in a high paying job and just excited about living life and now im so insecure... i cant even stand to look at myself most days because i am not happy and fixate on imperfections. naturally gaining weight is a side effect of zyprexa but i have always been someone of a slender and petite build, but having gained a little extra weight scares me and im not used to being anything but healthy. my partner is a gym junkie and is a very attractive guy im just so scared that because i dont consider myself attractive he wont either. we're loosing more and more of our spark each day and i dont know what to do to bring it back.

i am so in love with him but im worried my issues will scare him off and i start to fixate and over-analyse our faults. i had 6 months of coping and dealing with my problems without him that its so hard because i feel like if i have a bad day that he takes it as im unhappy with him... when its not him im unhappy with its MYSELF. i dont want to push him away or close the door on us i just dont know what to do to make him see that he is what i want and need i just need him to want the same.

i never knew how hard it was to have a relationship and mental health issues...

Hello everyone! Now I'm going to introduce Georgia, my second alter to you.

Her name is Georgia as I said and she's between 10-14 years old.
She is very childish, her voice is also like a little kid.

She appears mostly around my family and the switches are very rapid.

She is an optimist!

She likes cute things, likes to play games especially with kids younger than me, the host.
Her favorite color is purple and light green

She does not appear in school

I like Georgia but sometimes she's so getting on my nerves especially when she appears when my family is next to me >_< it feels strange because I'm not a little kid anymore.

There have been many journals written and placed in my bookshelf. They've fallen into hands which only I can see and touch. Their essence is intangible, since the writer will only ever extend her reach during an eclipse... when all is dark and few are home. In the instance, those inside are restless while the outside company is captured by the beauty of stillness.

Before I began a personal journal, I wrote stories. The journal entries themselves aren't nearly as creative as their introduction, but I believe that sharing them may prove or at least provoke interest here. I'll post the ones which relate to me currently and aren't filled with rants and ravings.

The Beginning:
I didn't sleep well last night. It seems unnatural to me that people can fall asleep so mechanically without feeling the wavering discontentment that follows a day, a week, or a months of life's weight... to sleep and to wake up renewed, as if all prior burdens can be detached through rest. The concept is foreign. Even when I sleep, I don't find solace.

January... I believe that this marks and possibly surpasses an entire month without a reliable internet connection. Within this month I have pieced a bookshelf together and alphabetized my DVDs, books, and games. I have also painted my welcome mat with calligraphy, promoting my favorite writing and sketching utensil (the Sharpie). While it isn't one of my more creative endeavors, people gravitate to it and seem to be interested in buying it. I've also nailed shelving to my walls, turned a sheet into a doorway to close my bedroom off from my living room, painted and laminated a cardboard box to be used as a work station, scoured and then painted an office trash can, turned my shower curtain into a landscape picture starring a sheep, sewn a cover over my foot stool, painted two pillar candles, painted and embellished my entertainment center, created a candle from mixed waxes, decorated and designed two oil diffusers, painted a tea light centerpiece, created a clay cat, painted a myriad of other useless things, and learned the art of safely mounting many heavy things onto a wall.
Following the lengthiest run on sentence in history, I can only conclude that life is very boring without internet access. I've felt a wave of epiphanies which were probably spawned from this solace as well. My hands are hardly idle. Even when I try to sit and relax my mind throws me into a rabbit hole.