bitter-sweet-bliss

So today I found out something that has changed the way I look at my anxiety. Also yes, I am fully aware I am not the only one with
 anxiety disorder, I think my therapist/psychologist's have told me this enough thank you very much. But the thing is, I never saw myself as being "mentally disabled"... I just saw it as an illness I had been born with an illness, it wasn't debilitating, I just had a couple bumps in the system.

But today someone called it a disability, and that of course sent my mind reeling backwards and I had those cold sweats that you get when you figure out something you preferably never wanted to know. Suddenly I realized how debilitating it really was. I would miss school constantly, I couldn't function for an entire month because of a constant panic attack that wouldn't leave me alone. I realized that at one time, I would of rather been dead. It felt like I was dying, over and over, not being able to breath, sweating, throwing up, not being able to eat, not being able to sleep, and the crying. So yes, it is a mental disability, and even though I never wanted to think of it this way, I guess in the long run it needed to be done.


So yes, I'm in a little bit of a depressed mood right now, and I like to write my feelings when I get like this, it helps me. 
Thank you all for reading-
Ego

Fuck, I don't really know how to explain this, so excuse me while I ramble about things that are bugging me presently.
So, the main thing I want to talk to you about is the dude I like.

So, I've told him my feelings, and he said he was happy that I told him, but never really gave me an answer.
That's fine, I'm patient, but recently I haven't seen him.
At all, He's just kinda, stopped talking to me for some reason.
I mean, he just got a full-time job so I can't be all:
"oh muh gahd, he dusn't pay attentiin to mee, he muhst h8 me."
He's busy, I can understand that.

But for some reason, no matter how much I tell myself this, I keep thinking.
"Maybe I did something wrong, maybe I scared him off, maybe he doesn't want to talk to me anymore."
And I hate this. It physically hurts, I've cried, I've been unable to sleep thinking of the plethora of ways I may have screwed up.
Maybe he's dead, or ill, or maybe someone in his immediate family is sick.
Maybe it's me, maybe it's his dog, or his job, or Tumblr for all I know.
I over think, and it's starting to effect me negatively
But no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about him.
I feel like some helpless 13 year-old with puppy love issues.
And perhaps I'm perfectly okay with that, I just don't like feeling helpless.
Like I've been discarded, left behind, no longer of any interest.
And like I said, I may be in over my head.
It's probably just my brain going off on a tangent from all the negativity I spout.
But that's it, what can I do?

And there we go, that's what's been on my mind.
Whether you think I'm just a whiny person with issues or not.
I've said it, and you've read it, there's no going back now.
I just hope this ends soon.

Riiiiiiight Anyway, so what the fuck do you even write in a journal entry anyway.
I guess it's just stuff going on in my life/complaining about shit.
I may like this more than I should...
:bademoticon: 

ANYWHO~ Lettuce (heh) get to the bread and butter (heheh) of this journal entry I suppose.

SO, things happening in my life, uhh.
I'm moving, I'm unemployed, and I'm confused as to how I feel about some dude in Texas.
Typical 13 year-old girl problems. (except I'm 18 and male, but wevs)
Woohoo~ Now you know more about me than you probably ever wanted to know.
Which was probably like, nothing to begin with, but sucks to be you HurHur.
Deal with it.

You can just skip the rest of this entry, unless you really like hearing/reading about people's life issues.
In which case, I hope your either a psychologist, or secretly in love with me.
Second option preferred.

So, let's see what to complain about first, AH I KNOW. FUCKIN MOVING
Oh joy, the fucking highlight of my life this year was my dear old daddy coming home one day and being all;
"YEA I QUIT."
I mean, good for you, the job was horrible, and it made us all miserable. I'm glad you quit and that you're happier now.
BUT, FUCKIN BUT
The whole "Yea we're moving, across Canada." Thing, not really makin me moist, yaknow.
More like drying me up like the fuckin Sahara, like okay, give us a bit of warning at least like come on.
Coming home from NFLD and just spoutin that we're moving, not really the best way to go about it dude.
And now the place I've called home for like, 15 years, this shit-hole of a town, with everyone I love in it. POOF
No longer in the equation, woopdie feckin doodley doo.
But oh well, nothing I can do about it now anyway except utterly (heh, utter) begrudgingly helping with the things around the house.
 My mother isn't too keen on this either, since most of her sisters live here.
But this about me, like jeez, pay attention to me gaiz.
No, seriously though, I don't know if this will work in the long run. 
But it's not like I have much of a choice now anyway. So yes.
Rant over, for now, I'll probably make one about other things later.
Like how alcohol tastes like ass, or how cows are plotting to end the world or some shit.
See you then~