Oops, I did it again!

 Yep, I messaged Slow Fade. Of course... I HAD TO EXPLAIN my position. JUST IN CASE HE THOUGHT I WAS THE one who wasn't interested.

Literally, this is what I did when I was 17.

But surprisingly, I don't think I've cried today. Just when I had cleared the 3 day mark, I decided to torture myself with waiting for a boy to text me back.

It's been 2.5 hours. It feels like an eternity.

As a committee member said, either he will not respond or he will politely/not politely tell you he's not interested.  Either way you will feel worse than you already do.

Sopresa! She's right.

But boy it feels so good to be rebellious. 

I joined 3 apps to try to help me wait out the anxious storm.

I don't know when to change my number.

Do I keep trying until I get it right? Or do I really try temperance for the rest of the year?

A part of me must crave the crazy.

This is exactly what I thought would happen at this age. So, I blame biology.

It's stronger than me.

So I'll just keep fumbling around.

At least I'm loosely committed to not changing my 401k contributions. That severely limits how much money I can throw at this nonsense.

Even though I don't know exactly how much time I have left in the workforce, I know it's limited.

I think I'll go to church tomorrow to finish out the month.

My plans for August include

- trying to see if I can sit through some cognitive behavioral therapy

- getting Peacock

and that's about it. 

Other things - figure out my life?

I just want this part of my life to be done.

The way I came close to taking my life makes me feel like this isn't a game I can really play. And God doesn't really dabble in romantic love. It's certainly not something I know how to handle on my own. And when I've tried to engage a professional, it just hasn't worked.

So do I grieve these relationships along with the possibility. I know it's not going to just happen.

I think my background goal is to sit still and transition into the end of days.

I'm torn between just staying in death house and melting away and trying to enjoy it and blow my money. I mostly want to live in a nicer apartment, and keep trying at living the friends and community life.

But I think that's incompatible with life.

But then I think, if I'm going to die anyway, what difference does it make?

I think these wild attempts... here come the tears... are just be avoiding the inevitable.

I'm going to die in this house, alone and lonely and empty on the inside. I'm just distracting myself from the truth and the grief and the loss.

I know this is the final stop for me and my craving for something other than this outcome is futile.

But I guess I'll keep clawing until I tire myself out.

I won't let go, God, until you bless me!

I just misread and article on Desiring God as, ' he was hoping for hope.' That's where I am.