In Which I Possess The Ability to Talk Myself Off of Bridges

More dispatches from the west coast. Sometimes I remind myself of "Alicia Amnesia".

I have gone from crazy to fine back to crazy back to fine. Talking it out helps with little or no outside input.

I feel good.

There's no sense in telling me the wisdom of a fool won't set you free.

I can make this work.

I just had the most questionable lunch of my entire life. Pizza, already a day or two old, placed in a ziplock bag and aged for another three days unrefrigerated. I heated it to high hell, so I think I'll be okay.

Can anybody tell me why I'm so fearful? I'm afraid of myself and the consequences that my actions may or may not bring about, to a degree. I'm not afraid of vice- related consequences. I think the real fear comes in when we bring that pesky l-word into the picture and all that it entails. I think I'm so busy trying to be perfect, that I think I'm putting my own needs, wants, and sanity as the least of priorities. My ultimate nightmare, in addition to being lost and alone in pitch darkness, is being told "you aren't enough. You're not good enough".

Another problem I have is that I can't stay mad. I want to, but all that ends up happening is I get over it. While most people extol (side note, I had no idea this was the proper spelling) this personality trait as a virtue, sometimes I think its important to get angry and to hold on to that anger, at least for a little bit. I think this is partly due to the fact that I see my significant other so rarely, that by the time I get around to seeing him, my anger (or at least whatever negative emotion that I'm producing) has fizzled. And nine times out of ten, its about something that has no foreseeable, logical conclusion.

But staying positive is the only way I can reinforce anything that keeps me happy. Its the only way I can hear that faint whisper of "You are worth it. You are amazing. You deserve whatever happiness you can get. You deserve to be loved."