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People tell you that if you don’t have anything good to say then don’t say anything at all. I guess I’ve kinda taken that to heart. Sometimes a depressive entry slips out and I end up looking like a victim. I’m so tired of being a self-dedicated victim. Growing up is fucking hard.

I keep so many things to myself then I use to. I still call my mom and confide in her now and then. Rarely, very rarely, I share something going on in my head with a friend but I am such a bad friend when it comes to being there for people that I try not to do that to them. I hate being someone who is all in your face when the crap is hitting the fan and then never calls you when life is peachy. Some of my friends tell me that it’s ok if I do that. It’s not ok with me.

It seems really odd to be 35 and just now working on actually growing up. Making money, going out by myself, worrying about important things like my health, etc., learning how to control my emotions and work out my own problems. This is not something that I should have put off this long.

Stress has been like my shadow the last few months with all the things going on in my life…family (leather and bio), karate, significant individuals I care about, my own growth. Nothing to do but wade through it and come out the end, hopefully wiser and happier.

I’ve written fucking Emo poetry lately for god’s sake. Don’t worry my meds are fully working so I can look at all the stress with a detached sort of annoyance that has to be dealt with but it makes me wonder how everyone on the planet deals.

I’m battling between my child-like urge to just skip merrily along and not look at the BIG PICTURE but live in the moment putting all the stress of decisions to the side for later to let them work themselves out and the part of me that says grownups plan for the future and figure out a plan then systematically push through them to a conclusion.

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