It's Tuesday... Yay!

It's just been one of those back and forth kind of days. I went from manic, to lethargic, to pleasant, to depressed and uncommunicative, back to pleasant. I'm in the pleasant swing still... clearly.

I got to talk to my mommy and my brother and my daddy. I am now convinced that my brother has to move out here with me. And it is only partly so that I don't have to move when my roommate gets married at the end of the summer.

This will be the second roommate that I've lost to marriage. What does that say about me? Am I so hard to live with that people see marriage as the only option to escape me? That seems kind of harsh.

I made some tasty meatballs and pasta the other day. I've been feasting on the leftovers since then. I'm pretty sure I haven't eaten anything else since I made it. That seems to be the way it always goes though. Make enough to feed an army, then eat what's left for the next three days. It is a rather practical system to me. Why cook every night when you can cook twice a week and have enough to eat for lunch and dinner in between?

I've been going to counseling on campus. I feel it's going well. When I stopped trying to hold up all the weight myself, it got easier to move forward. I've been letting all my failures and shortcomings crush me for too long now, and it was nice to at least pretend that someone is holding up the corner so I can crawl out from beneath. I like getting things done. I like getting things done. I like getting things done. Life is easier when I just do it. Life is easier.

I was crushed to go in the first time. It felt like another failure. It felt like I couldn't handle my own life, and that was almost as big a wound as all the stagnation and depression that was swirling around me. It feels terrible, at first, to think that you can't control your own emotional state, especially after having been standing on the edge of terrible depression for so long. It can be difficult to admit that maybe you need someone to take your hand, and pull you back.

I have difficulty opening up to people. Even here, where I can't see anyone's face, and you can't really see mine. My suffering is mine, and it is wrong to share it with others. It's mine and you can't have it. I don't anyone else to carry my emotional baggage for me. That's what it is that makes counseling so difficult. Admitting I need an extra shoulder to carry some of the weight. And even though I don't really open up to my counselor, I think, just the fact that he's there and willing to listen, helps a lot.

We'll hit stride for the evening with numb then.