<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889</id><updated>2011-07-30T21:11:29.704-04:00</updated><category term='pics'/><category term='productive'/><category term='reading'/><category term='hormones'/><category term='addiction'/><category term='crafting'/><category term='complain'/><category term='tattoo'/><category term='end of summer'/><category term='hate'/><category term='projects'/><category term='art'/><category term='bitter'/><category term='photos'/><category term='lyrics'/><category term='whine'/><category term='need a drink'/><category term='meds'/><category term='etsy'/><category term='courticus'/><category term='portraits'/><category term='truth'/><category term='early morning'/><category term='smile'/><category term='photo'/><category term='photoshoot'/><category term='swap'/><category term='allergic'/><category term='house'/><category term='emo'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='frustration'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='tallahassee exodus'/><category term='sewing'/><category term='assumptions'/><category term='love'/><category term='highschool'/><category term='rambling'/><category term='beginning'/><category term='work'/><category term='blogs'/><category term='rant'/><category term='heartache'/><category term='discovery'/><title type='text'>Love Just is</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>248</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8616051322180117459</id><published>2010-09-30T01:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T01:45:12.848-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm having a tough time tonight. There's no other way to say it. And I feel even worse because I need to say it. I'm doing many of the right things. I'm in a really good relationship situation. But I still have days and nights like this and it makes me feel even worse. Guilty, ungrateful, that sort of thing. I feel like i've struggled with every vice tonight and I'm getting a cold or some sinus crap on top of it or along with it. My hormones are out of whack too. I just feel so needy and spacey and down. I'm going to try to sleep again. I hate that this feels so familiar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8616051322180117459?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8616051322180117459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8616051322180117459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8616051322180117459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8616051322180117459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/09/im-having-tough-time-tonight.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6710595915724635922</id><published>2010-08-15T12:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T12:49:59.400-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I didn't expect to feel like this.</title><content type='html'>I've overextended my resources without giving them time to repair and so today I woke with a sinking feeling, a need for a dark, quiet room, and the knowledge that I really could appreciated some anxiety meds. It's a hangover of sorts. I kept shoving the tension, paranoia, and suffocating lack of privacy and personal space that comes in crowds and public further and further down. And now it's multiplied and intertwined with financial stress, body aches, and indigestion. I'm soaking my feet now because i they ache and are tight from silly, cute, new shoes and derby practice starts in a few hours. I definitely need to go get dog food and more epsom salt but i'm afraid of the sunday crowds at the store and i haven't showered yet. I need to get these emotions under control before practice because I'm certain that passing out or throwing up from anxiety will be insanely more embarrassing than passing out from being out of shape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My legs ache from trying to dance lower to compensate for the nearly one-foot difference in our height. She's the type of personality who radiates energy and infects everyone with a need to talk to her. She asked if it was too forward to hold my hand while we twisted our way through a dark club toward the bar, eventhough we'd been hanging out for hours at this point. She said she was so nervous about what to wear to meet me that her boyfriend took her shopping for a new shirt. Her husband is also a very high match for me on OKC. I met her parents last night in an lame attempt to steal a free moment at the bout. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've lost my train of thought for writing this post. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6710595915724635922?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6710595915724635922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6710595915724635922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6710595915724635922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6710595915724635922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-didnt-expect-to-feel-like-this.html' title='I didn&apos;t expect to feel like this.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2446919385774135373</id><published>2010-07-29T00:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T00:10:30.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Today was a hell of a day.</title><content type='html'>At least my kitchen got fixed and despite being sunburned, my tits looked great today (it's important to appreciate those sorts of things). Pretty much feels like every other thing went wrong. Including forgetting to take things out of the cooler from the beach, not talking to chris about something important very early this morning, not eating dinner because i felt so sick, mom questioning my judgment at work, my boss taking more work away from me, two projects failing horribly, and this headache/dizziness/nausea that is pretty much ruling my life. I came home with grand intentions of staying up all night to bake and enjoy myself, but I ate some crackers in another failed attempt to settle my stomach and fell asleep on the couch for a bit. I woke up congested, dizzy, and in some serious pain. I've taken advil again, but it's really not doing anything. Being nauseated every day isn't really helping. Actually, it's only since I started birth control. Also two periods a month isn't fun and it isn't nice and it isn't really fair to the people who have to deal with me. It also means my body isn't responding to the birth control, but my doctor won't admit that so I need to find a new doctor. I also need to find a therapist and psychiatrist that my insurance company will let me use because going outside of my insurance isn't an option with my budget, but it's pretty obvious to me that I need help. And by help, I mean I need to talk to a professional regularly and I need to be on medication. I'm really not sure how much longer the insurance company will stall me, but if work stress continues the way it is shit might go critical before that happens. It gets clearer and clearer to me everyday that i am becoming less equipped to handle thing. Yesterday I was just in tears at my desk during a phone call. Quiet tears of course, but tears. I'm pretty much failing to keep up with friends and i'm missing them and my family so much. A week or two ago, I was sleeping later than I should in the morning, sleeping at lunch, napping right after work and then taking a double dose of sleeping pills and getting into bed later. I stopped writing to try to eat some dinner, yes at 11 something at night ... and now I don't feel like writing anymore. Crap. Time to walk the dog and take a shower.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2446919385774135373?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2446919385774135373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2446919385774135373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2446919385774135373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2446919385774135373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/07/today-was-hell-of-day.html' title='Today was a hell of a day.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8302992187706335511</id><published>2010-07-20T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T23:33:31.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm such a mess. A self medicating, imbecile who can't get shit right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8302992187706335511?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8302992187706335511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8302992187706335511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8302992187706335511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8302992187706335511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-such-mess.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-9143316104412298482</id><published>2010-06-28T01:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T01:20:26.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"taking in every thing..."</title><content type='html'>I shut the computer down and started moving towards bed and then realized that I should write, but now that I went through turning everything back on I don't really want to. That's pretty much how things go for me these days. Songs sound good until the second chorus, if I'm lucky. Food tastes good for three bites and then is revolting. Hanging out with Chris seems like a good idea until I'm horrified at the way he drops food on his clothes like a child ... I'm trying to find a way to blame how shitty i'm feeling on something other than the same shittiness that I deal with once or twice a month since i'm still not at peace with going back on meds. Let me tell you, there's plenty of things going on (mom's surgery, the work issues compounded by other work issues, my raving insecurity, my two-a-month periods ...) I can't enjoy the place that I had strangely made my refuge for a few months. The landlord still hasn't even bothered to send someone to check it out. Any appliance that gets turned on in the kitchen, with the exception of the fridge, over and dishwasher (thankfully!), sends one outlet into a fit of glowing orange, smoke and sparks. I hate fire. It terrifies me like almost nothing else so a constant threat of fire has me a bit edgy. I also can't even try to bake anything unless it requires only handwork and the stove/oven. I'm afraid i'm going to come home one day to the fire dept. I'm getting too upset to keep writing this so, in bullet form, are other things i had intended to write about:&lt;br /&gt;- not feeling anything&lt;br /&gt;- music, concerts, and religion&lt;br /&gt;- weight&lt;br /&gt;- not feeling anything&lt;br /&gt;- not letting myself feel? &lt;br /&gt;- allergies&lt;br /&gt;- alcohol&lt;br /&gt;- mom's surgery&lt;br /&gt;- identity and queerness&lt;br /&gt;- being unmedicated, bipolar, going through a break up, sexual assault, medical issues, and yet feeling like this is what is really unraveling me and how ridiculous and stupid it makes me feel&lt;br /&gt;- not feeling like i deserve a new tattoo&lt;br /&gt;- mf sex&lt;br /&gt;And i'm not makinig sense even to myself anymore so this is the end of this ramble. I need a break. Can you hear me universe? I need a break, pretty please with a cherry on top.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-9143316104412298482?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/9143316104412298482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=9143316104412298482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/9143316104412298482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/9143316104412298482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/06/taking-in-every-thing.html' title='&quot;taking in every thing...&quot;'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-164018852141085259</id><published>2010-06-05T02:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T02:16:44.682-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not good at saying this or asking for this, but I could use a little help. First, before you worry, I'm safe. I just gave in and took a sleeping pill because I don't really trust myself to stay awake. I was trying to stay away from all meds, but I need it. I know this seems silly or at least it feels silly to write this, but I'd really appreciate it if someone could send a text or an IM or a tweet or a facebook message or an email or something to sorta check on me tomorrow. I'm feeling really lousy and isolated and alone. I know I'll start to feel better after my hormones level out in a couple days, but i'm feeling really crappy and would appreciate just someone just saying hi or something... just so i don't feel so alone. &lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-164018852141085259?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/164018852141085259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=164018852141085259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/164018852141085259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/164018852141085259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-not-good-at-saying-this-or-asking.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2029847296742601952</id><published>2010-05-12T22:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T22:18:25.062-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>screwing things up, one step at a time. &lt;br /&gt;:-(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2029847296742601952?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2029847296742601952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2029847296742601952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2029847296742601952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2029847296742601952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/05/screwing-things-up-one-step-at-time.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5805819361640356964</id><published>2010-05-02T20:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T20:50:46.995-04:00</updated><title type='text'>turqoise, red wine or pink nails?</title><content type='html'>I really hate cleaning. I've been doing it in bits and pieces and it's reached such a place that .... well maybe my life has reached such a place that it needs to be done sooner and in bigger groups. I'm still 3 days away from knowing about lab results. From what I've read, at this point it's basically either a result of cancer or not-cancer-yet. Which isn't encouraging. I made my life a lot more complicated earlier this week. That coupled with the temp isn't doing wonders for my disposition, but i'm staying busy ... thus the cleaning. I did alot of shopping this weekend. Spent more than I had planned, but not beyond what i can afford and not on stupid things. Selfish, but not not horribly stupid. I bought organizational supplies, clothes, and shoes. Buying shoes is wonderful, lol. I might've overdone that a bit. I need to upgrade my phone, the $10 i paid for it six months ago have long been used up I guess. If I can unstick the #6 I might keep it until next paycheck.  I've sort of been avoiding people today and sort of for a few days. I've even kind of avoided social media. I just find myself sort of bitter and I don't like it so I'm avoiding triggers for such. Bitter might be an understatement. On the positive side, the roommate apparently finds me as irritating as I find her. Which means she is actively looking for a place to move to and could be gone as early as the 15th. Which means I don't necessarily have to move. Which would save me money and time and favors. Mom's coming up this week for work and for a very short visit. Dinner and a movie scheduled with her the night she comes in. I picked up new shirts to layer under softball and kickball clothes. Kickball is a very different group and I don't want to go down that road. I feel like I have this HUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEEEE well of things to say to oz and about my relationship with oz but it's just never the time or place. Back to cleaning and laundry. Hair to dye, dishes to wash, stuff to freecycle and tears not to cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS Will my mom notice the dog hair on the stairs if I don't get to sweep it before she gets here? (I think yes.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5805819361640356964?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5805819361640356964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5805819361640356964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5805819361640356964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5805819361640356964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/05/turqoise-red-wine-or-pink-nails.html' title='turqoise, red wine or pink nails?'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5109121900266091023</id><published>2010-04-25T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T22:56:54.019-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It seems that the only thoughts in my head that are connecting enough to make sense are the ones that carry the big stick and don't fight fairly. I'm stressed out about a couple mistakes at work, my increasing desire to get away, my appointment on tuesday and whatever i've done to piss the dog off. Maybe he knows we'll be moving soon and it most likely won't be out of this stupid town. i should just get used to being alone and just accept the idea that unless i get on some serious meds that can curb the majority of me that i'm just going to be alone. Neither of them have meant it. Maybe they meant it in the moment and maybe for a few months afterwards, but you know how it goes. You spend more time with someone and realize you can't save them or change them and you lose your interest. You get smart and move on to save yourself. i suspected it, but i forced the confirmation this week. It's my fault, i don't try to shirk blame for that. I feel like skipping the tuesday appointment and just not find out if it is cancer. No one will want to have children with me so what does it matter? I'm a mess. I havent even bothered to change clothes since friday night. pathetic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5109121900266091023?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5109121900266091023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5109121900266091023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-seems-that-only-thoughts-in-my-head.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-120155341583205529</id><published>2010-04-19T00:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T08:06:10.682-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4.19?</title><content type='html'>I'm not dealing with my feelings about anything. I'm eating pretty much every bad for you food. I went back to sleep 3 or 4 times both yesterday and today. Eventhough I went to bed late, that's a ridiculous amount of sleep for me. Between trying not to think about cervical, endometrial, or vaginal cancer and trying not to think too much about what i'm feeling, i'm also trying not to get too angry about the effects of this new bc. It just sucks. And i'm making everything worse. I want icecream and gummibears and hot fudge and i want my boyfriend back. i also would really fucking appreciate it if they would come fix the damn washing machine. &lt;br /&gt;The worst part is that i want this stupid romanticized cleaned up version of him back without the things that i don't like. I'm stupid and weak and pathetic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-120155341583205529?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/120155341583205529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=120155341583205529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/120155341583205529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/120155341583205529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/04/419.html' title='4.19?'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-9199448061889890255</id><published>2010-04-10T01:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T01:39:14.614-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've fallen into a pattern of disordered eating again and it's starting to interfere. I'm obsessing about food and weight. It's become one of the few things I think about and plan about. I'm overeating often. And the shame of it is massive. The thoughts of how much weight i'm gaining and the impact of how disgusting i am isn't something im taking lightly. I'm disgusted. And now sleeping meds are mixing with wine and it's time to close my eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-9199448061889890255?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/9199448061889890255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/9199448061889890255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/04/ive-fallen-into-pattern-of-disordered.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3277039403612209315</id><published>2010-04-07T23:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T23:11:33.184-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am jack's lonely liver.</title><content type='html'>I don't do well when people are condescending. The gyno that i've been seeing is SUPER condescending. I can ignore it for a bit, but today after waiting more than an hour without any apology I didn't ignore it. I bit back at it with sarcasm and intolerance. If you're male bodied, don't tell me you "understand" when I tell you my fucking uterus has been cramping so intensely that it's made me almost vomit. You literally cannot know what it feels like. And even if you weren't born male, your secondary and tertiary sex characteristics let me know that it's been awhile since you've felt that. If he would've come in the room and addressed my concern in a calm and logical way, I might've had a much easier time. If he would've said "why don't you give it another month, it's just breakthrough bleeding" I would've asked a couple questions and then moved on. But he didn't he was ready to ditch that medicine and jump back to one that means a period every month. Which to me, means I might as well not be taking anything. It didn't go well and his attitude when I tried to explain my concerns about mood and stability and move past his repeated lectures about contraception was abysmal. After all of that then he did an exam. It was a shitty way to spend the morning. Plus i got another lecture about how most psychiatric meds can really fuck with the contraceptive properties of bc pills. So wtf?!?! 2 fucking hours WASTED. I don't know how to explain how terrifying it is to know that every month, despite your best efforts you're going to freak out and fall apart. And you can do everything and stretch every skill and practice every technique, but it will only make minor changes. I don't know how to explain to anyone and i'm pretty sure most people i try to explain it to think i'm exaggerating or just being dramatic, but it's awful and scary. I want to lock myself in a cage for those days.  I'm wearing thin with patience. I'm not in a great place mentally. I've been having to close my door at work to keep out some control. I've faked a migraine or three to hide panic attacks. Once I shut everything off and literally sat in the dark under my desk to regain my composure. I'm struggling. I wish i could put in my hours at work late at night. I didn't get to go to the third eye blind show this week and I'm trying to ignore the doom and gloom i feel over my upcoming birthday and the tangents. My breasts hurt. They've gone from titties to ta-tas in about a month. It's nice, i guess, but I don't know how to dress them and it's sometimes painful. The dog is snoring again and i'm a little tired, but I don't really sleep much. I need to medicate to sleep and that's only good for a little while and then you start to hit that Tyler Durden space. Also, just to round out my whining, it looks like it will be another year without a raise. Rock on. I don't need to make more money, I just want to be valued.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3277039403612209315?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3277039403612209315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3277039403612209315' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3277039403612209315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3277039403612209315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-am-jacks-lonely-liver.html' title='I am jack&apos;s lonely liver.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3633608516566892515</id><published>2010-03-31T23:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T23:04:57.511-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't even know where to start about how upset I am. There's no point even. I'm a fucking frazzled mess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3633608516566892515?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3633608516566892515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3633608516566892515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3633608516566892515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3633608516566892515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-dont-even-know-where-to-start-about.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6650654852404866879</id><published>2010-03-30T14:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T14:22:00.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3.30.10</title><content type='html'>Damn. That was supposed to be my plan and I&amp;#39;m so fucking jealous.  &lt;br&gt;Today bites.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6650654852404866879?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6650654852404866879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6650654852404866879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6650654852404866879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6650654852404866879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/33010.html' title='3.30.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2810357712737233500</id><published>2010-03-29T12:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T12:36:25.376-04:00</updated><title type='text'>3.29.10</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m just not having a good day. I took twice what I normally take of  &lt;br&gt;sleeping meds last night and was still up about every 40 minutes. This  &lt;br&gt;morning, I got completely dressed twice and wasn&amp;#39;t happy with either  &lt;br&gt;result, but was out of time. The pain from this period is making me  &lt;br&gt;sick. Unless it magically stops it means i have to postpone the  &lt;br&gt;biopsies. I just want to get it out of the way so i can stop thinking  &lt;br&gt;about cancer and never having babies and stupid crap like that. I know  &lt;br&gt;that it would be at least 2 weeks after the biopsies before results  &lt;br&gt;but it would have a finite time frame. Having 2 periods 2 weeks apart  &lt;br&gt;also means twice the emotional insanity that is now getting together  &lt;br&gt;with fatigue and a workload that is bordering on too much. I also keep  &lt;br&gt;losing feeling in fingers on my right hand. It&amp;#39;s a little weird. I&amp;#39;m  &lt;br&gt;trying to stay focused and relatively positive, but it&amp;#39;s difficult. I  &lt;br&gt;apologize in advance if I snap, or seem distracted or short. Or if i  &lt;br&gt;throw up ... because that&amp;#39;s gross. I still don&amp;#39;t know how to dress  &lt;br&gt;these boobs. I mildly despise people in happy romantic relationships  &lt;br&gt;today. Seriously, STFU about it. Just for today. You and your life  &lt;br&gt;plans for your privileged, perfect and perfectly-legal wedding and  &lt;br&gt;your easy-to-have-children can kiss my ass today. I&amp;#39;m having too much  &lt;br&gt;trouble not falling into a little ball from the fear and stress that  &lt;br&gt;there&amp;#39;s cancer growing in my girly parts to stop and be happy for you.  &lt;br&gt;Maybe tomorrow i can drag myself out of this bitter, self-centered box.&lt;p&gt;On the up-side, I like having candy on my desk it&amp;#39;s a good diversion  &lt;br&gt;when people come in pissed off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2810357712737233500?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2810357712737233500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2810357712737233500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2810357712737233500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2810357712737233500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/32910.html' title='3.29.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2723916965972452590</id><published>2010-03-27T15:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T15:56:43.835-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>:( I though meds were supposed to help, not hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2723916965972452590?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2723916965972452590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2723916965972452590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2723916965972452590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2723916965972452590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-though-meds-were-supposed-to-help-not.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2240624442736537617</id><published>2010-03-25T00:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T00:32:54.465-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in a nasty patch of insomnia. The kind that doesn't even obey OTC sleeping meds. Two panic attacks since Sunday night. Rage that seems to come from nowhere. I was late for work despite being up an hour early due to bouts of intense and alternating anger and panic. In short, I'm PMSing despite being on medication to prevent it. I've also had the worst cramps I've had in a long time (nauseatingly painful) everyday for about 10 days. The doctor says that my body is adjusting. Well my boobs have adjusted themselves all the way to Ds. They should only adjust themselves in the opposite direction now, if you ask me. And only enough so they stop hurting. I'm trying to focus on things coming up and potentially coming up. Like birthdays and trips and potential interviews and possible visits from friends. I'm trying to eat healthier and exercise more. I bought myself some treats with the last little bit of my tax return that I didn't allocate to debt and car insurance. I'm pretty excited. I wish I would've found some shoes, since I've worn out another pair. Work has become so busy for me that I had to get another set of filing drawers and new things to hold folders. It's good. It means I have at least a little job security, which isn't something I'm used to feeling. Buuuuuuuut that combined with not sleeping and feeling the way i described above has me pretty cautious. I've been pretty purposeful about not spending time alone when I'm feeling iffy. (Sorry if i've seemed needy or clingy) I'd like to find a gym that I can afford so that I can go there when I need to burn some energy and not just run/walk on poorly lit streets, but I'm really REALLY intimidated by gyms and there's other things that need the money. And I'm fearful of getting back into crazy anorexic habits. So that's on hold. I want to get out and just walk and jog more, but I prefer to go late at night so I don't have to deal with the social anxiety but then I get freaked out by creepy people and poor lighting. *shrugs* I need a buddy system or something. I wish I would've put more consistent energy into leash-training the pup when he was younger. I did get a harness for him that helps with his walking habits but it takes time, i know. It's hard not to reach for someone and not to feel their absence when times are tough. I'm very lucky that we've continued to talk and at the level that we have. But I know I pull back when I feel like this ... and not just from him, from everyone. These intense periods of emotions leave me feeling really out of control and afraid and unpredictable and they've been instrumental in most conflicts i've had ever. So it's logical to want to pull away and push away out of fear of ruining what I have, but that's a tricky situation because i can't pull all the way away, but I run HUGE risks staying as open and as connected. And it's not just with him. I'm going to give myself a break and try showering.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2240624442736537617?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2240624442736537617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2240624442736537617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2240624442736537617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2240624442736537617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-in-nasty-patch-of-insomnia.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4114352256854348395</id><published>2010-03-23T15:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T15:13:20.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I need to find a doc so I can get back on anxiety meds.&lt;br&gt;Not happy about it, but I think it&amp;#39;s worth a discussion with a doctor.  &lt;br&gt;Now I just have to find one that&amp;#39;s not horrible, is taking patients,  &lt;br&gt;and is on my insurance.&lt;br&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4114352256854348395?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4114352256854348395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4114352256854348395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4114352256854348395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4114352256854348395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-need-to-find-doc-so-i-can-get-back-on.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4274760635446348014</id><published>2010-03-22T17:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T17:21:25.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/03/2010_winter_paralympics.html"&gt;http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2010/03/2010_winter_paralympics.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;Check out that link for amazing photos from the Winter Paralympics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4274760635446348014?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4274760635446348014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4274760635446348014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4274760635446348014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4274760635446348014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-7749024028721737786</id><published>2010-03-21T15:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T15:19:11.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've worked myself into such a state of agitation and frustration and impatience that I really would be better off just crawling into a hole somewhere and staying there until I feel like I can breathe and interact and react like a human being again. It's 63 degrees today and my roommate keeps turning the heat on. I have the ceiling fan on in my room and i'm wearing a tanktop. I'm upset about putting this closet thing in here because of what it means and i feel stupid for even thinking about it. I'm not a good person. I'm trying really hard to let go of anger and frustration but today I just plain suck. I'm angry that my chance to just move without a job was taken from me. I'm angry that plans have been derailed because they were dependent on someone else. I'm angry that love isn't enough. I'm angry and hurt and tearful and pathetic. And this, like almost everything I touch, is a complete waste.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-7749024028721737786?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/7749024028721737786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=7749024028721737786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7749024028721737786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7749024028721737786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/ive-worked-myself-into-such-state-of.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5532541761753372545</id><published>2010-03-20T18:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T18:08:14.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm in a spectacularly crappy mood. I've been keeping my mind away from difficult things by staying absorbed in work and books, but I finished the books I was reading and made it a point to stay away from work things today. I was okay earlier but now I just want someone to cuddle with me and watch law and order marathons or animal planet. I want to know that someone can actually stand how crazy I am. I need a way to recharge my batteries and get myself back on some solid footing again. It just seems that every time I find something another tough spot jumps out to kick me in the shins. Maybe it's just what i deserve right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5532541761753372545?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5532541761753372545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5532541761753372545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5532541761753372545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5532541761753372545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-in-spectacularly-crappy-mood.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4040022638283103557</id><published>2010-03-16T19:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T19:28:05.504-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't really want to talk about anything. I don't want to continue to think about all of the things that are swirling in my head. I want to sleep and rest and relax. Instead, I'm just sitting here with this awful, sick feeling. I'm fighting the urge to scream about what I want and how badly I want it ... to make desperate pleas and promises for just a brief moment of feeling loveable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4040022638283103557?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4040022638283103557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4040022638283103557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-dont-really-want-to-talk-about.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2221638048869964294</id><published>2010-03-14T22:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T22:06:56.919-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Walking a very thin line between functioning and not. Fuck this. I can't even write.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2221638048869964294?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2221638048869964294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2221638048869964294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2221638048869964294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2221638048869964294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/walking-very-thin-line-between.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1121106829004945330</id><published>2010-03-14T00:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T00:33:13.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm not feeling well. I just want to go to sleep, but I can't find the sleeping meds. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1121106829004945330?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1121106829004945330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1121106829004945330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1121106829004945330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1121106829004945330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-not-feeling-well.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6338621048120865566</id><published>2010-03-11T13:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T13:15:44.668-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3.11.10</title><content type='html'>I feel very weak. I feel very, very stupid. And very aware of my gender and my weakness and my size. It's a very unnerving feeling and i don't like it at all. I'm scared and I feel very isolated. I don't want to go back to work. I feel unclean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6338621048120865566?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6338621048120865566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6338621048120865566' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6338621048120865566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6338621048120865566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/31110.html' title='3.11.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4157901305869127471</id><published>2010-03-11T08:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T08:27:44.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sadface</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m upset with myself. Didn&amp;#39;t really prove that i had some self  &lt;br&gt;respect. Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4157901305869127471?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4157901305869127471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4157901305869127471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4157901305869127471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4157901305869127471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/sadface.html' title='sadface'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5480489042175232162</id><published>2010-03-10T00:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T00:56:38.037-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The one about nickels, dimes and pennies.</title><content type='html'>So i came here to write about change and how I feel about it and what I feel like I'm heading toward and how I plan to get there, but now I feel like putting it in this stream of conscious format, in this almost wholly negative space would trivialize it and make it seem like another passing effort on my part. And I really don't want it to seem that way. I'm making effort and plans and those are designed to lead to change. I don't think it will go quickly and I don't think it will always be a straight forward path ... in fact I know it won't be. Right now i'm so insanely tired that I feel intoxicated. Getting more quality sleep is definitely a part of my plans. Also taking my vitamins, cooking more, eating better and more regular exercise. Which all sounds typical, but if you have ever struggled to get through a day then you know there are days where breathing feels like it deserves its own reward. enough for here and now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5480489042175232162?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5480489042175232162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5480489042175232162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5480489042175232162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5480489042175232162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/one-about-nickels-dimes-and-pennies.html' title='The one about nickels, dimes and pennies.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5559056538208840364</id><published>2010-03-05T11:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T11:37:48.898-05:00</updated><title type='text'>3.5.10</title><content type='html'>My it-is-what-it-is attitude feels pretty worthless today. Yesterday  &lt;br&gt;it didn&amp;#39;t seem to do much for the way I was feeling either. Self  &lt;br&gt;esteem is in the crapper as well and I&amp;#39;m still sick ... which are  &lt;br&gt;probably related. I feel like a very stupid zombie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5559056538208840364?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5559056538208840364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5559056538208840364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5559056538208840364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5559056538208840364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/03/3510.html' title='3.5.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4596774548262169400</id><published>2010-02-24T18:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T01:10:05.371-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2.24.10</title><content type='html'>When I go home tonight, I plan to spend some time taking care of  &lt;br /&gt;myself. I have struggled through today emotionally and I'm very  &lt;br /&gt;hesitant to even address those emotions. My infected eye is swollen  &lt;br /&gt;from brow to cheek and from nose to the edge of my eye socket. My  &lt;br /&gt;mother called and talked to me about her health problems. I know she's  &lt;br /&gt;genuinely worried because she was unable to just brush them off like  &lt;br /&gt;she usually does. I want to offer to be there with her during these  &lt;br /&gt;next steps, but I think she'd be offended. So much to do ... need to  &lt;br /&gt;get back to working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late now and i'm in shitty shape. I'm wearing a sweatshirt that i've had since 1999. It used to be a signal when i would wear it. I came close to needing that signal tonight but I didn't but i wore it anyway. The dog pissed on the bed while I was in the shower. Today was long and I'm not feeling well and I just wanted to sleep after the shower, but I can't because I have to wait for the bed to dry. And i can't fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Dear dog, &lt;br /&gt;    Why, when you have the whole apartment to piss in, do you piss on my bed? I wish you would stop it.  &lt;br /&gt;==&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i feel like people judge people who want love harshly. I feel like people who want love and who want romance are seen as stupid or naive. I hesitate to tell people how sad i really am because i don't want them to think worse of me than i assume they already do. I'm upset at the things people are saying to me and the way that people are talking to me. I can vaguely see their intention, but expressing  judgments is not you showing or offering support of me. I guess i feel like complaining tonight because that seems to be all I can get out. I'm really upset tonight. It's much harder for me to keep my mind in a good headspace when I can't keep my body healthy. My blood pressure was seriously high at the doctor and mine usually runs a little lower than average so it was more of a concern. Apparently eye problems and blood pressure problems don't go well together. My chest hurt for an hour or so today but with the situation that developed at work, i wasn't really surprised.&lt;br /&gt; Right now i just want to have his head in my lap and play with his hair while i tell him that i know it's so hard but we'll make it work, we'll find a way or several ways and we'll try them all. If that makes me stupid then that's fine. But that's what i want right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4596774548262169400?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4596774548262169400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4596774548262169400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4596774548262169400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4596774548262169400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/22410.html' title='2.24.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1222500222002794226</id><published>2010-02-23T18:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T18:40:44.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just not my day</title><content type='html'>Today wasn't an easy day. It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't easy. I'm feeling pretty sick again today. My eye is red and gross and watery and drops only make it worse. My throat is still as sore as the first day. It's been a week. I am still getting little dizzy moments and still coughing up some green, nasty stuff. I came home to find that the dog has destroyed, utterly obliterated two things that I received for xmas that were important to me. He also peed on the bed in 4 spots. I'm pretty convinced the vet tech was wrong when she said he was fine this past weekend. I think he should go back tomorrow morning. I'm really upset and really don't feel well and can't even snuggle up to the emptiness in my bed because it's covered in dog piss. I think i've been handling everything fairly well, but right now i just wish i had some one here so i could fall apart into their arms or just someone to commiserate with me. ouch :( crying makes my eye hurt too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1222500222002794226?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1222500222002794226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1222500222002794226' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1222500222002794226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1222500222002794226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-not-my-day.html' title='just not my day'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2295336986051769354</id><published>2010-02-22T11:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T11:59:37.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2.22.10</title><content type='html'>I don&amp;#39;t want to write here anymore.&lt;p&gt;I just want to move forward. I want to repair things if they need to  &lt;br&gt;be repaired and just move forward.&lt;p&gt;It is what it is. And while i think i know now why it hurts, the clean  &lt;br&gt;up is what wakes me up in the middle of the night and the implications  &lt;br&gt;are what leave me feeling defenseless and panicked.&lt;p&gt;I don&amp;#39;t want it to be the first thing I think about or the last thing  &lt;br&gt;I think about. I don&amp;#39;t want to think about it at all, actually. But it  &lt;br&gt;was so entrenched in everything that I did (I made it that way) that I  &lt;br&gt;feel like i have to alter every behavior to be able to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2295336986051769354?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2295336986051769354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2295336986051769354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2295336986051769354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2295336986051769354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/22210.html' title='2.22.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6935620201700045710</id><published>2010-02-19T23:46:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T23:46:00.339-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Heavy thoughts and a sluggish fever.</title><content type='html'>I spent most of today trying to sleep to recover. I don't sleep well most of the time so it's a challenge. I could barely do anything today without being completely drained. I managed half a frosty a little while ago because I was starting to think that not having any food in me might have something to do with the exhaustion. I'm smart like that. It's getting later now and I'm struggling. Not in a dangerous way or anything. Just thinking too much about too many things and now I'm really emotional. I'm going to try reading some of my favorite positive blogs and go through a couple grounding exercises. I know i only write here when things are bad or not good. I keep the positive to myself and apparently to too great of an extent. Not sharing the positive things in my life is something I whole-heartedly regret&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6935620201700045710?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6935620201700045710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6935620201700045710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/heavy-thoughts-and-sluggish-fever.html' title='Heavy thoughts and a sluggish fever.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3652029271296274260</id><published>2010-02-19T09:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T09:48:25.192-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't think I've been this sick in years.</title><content type='html'>So very, very sick. If you count Monday, I've had three meals all week. Two of those were on Monday. I ate a few snack foods other days but nothing wants to stay in my body and it's very difficult to swallow. I don't feel hungry though, which is confusing. My mom keeps offering for me to drive down there or for her to come up, but my place is embarrassingly dirty and cluttered with things i'm not ready for someone to push me to get rid of. I also don't feel like I'm in the shape to make a 4.5 hour drive. My alarm woke me up out of a dream that i've had before. It was familiar and safe and comfortable. The feelings from the dream were replaced by an awful feeling. Two things have been stuck on repeat in my brain. Both were incorrect and I let them go because I didn't know how to fix them or if I thought it was important to correct those errors. I feel like since they have stuck around, that it might be worth it to address them. Maybe bounce them off of someone else before taking them anywhere near their source again. If the mistakes are ever addressed again, i guess that would have to go back to their sources to be effective. One was repeated by more than one person and i've spent alot of time considering what that means. It makes me wonder where people are getting their data and where and how i'm providing that data and why I'm not giving the right set of information away. It's actually really upsetting. The other is so upsetting that if I think about it for too much time, I get nauseated. If that seems dramatic, it is. This is a big deal to me. I have too much time to think since i've been sick. Sorta hoping these meds knock me out soon. Getting this sick the same week as other things seems like the universe saying "you're doing it wrong" or "you suck".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3652029271296274260?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3652029271296274260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3652029271296274260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-dont-think-ive-been-this-sick-in.html' title='I don&apos;t think I&apos;ve been this sick in years.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2504812868770505357</id><published>2010-02-17T16:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T16:59:14.472-05:00</updated><title type='text'>falling</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m sick and falling apart progressively as this day has continued.  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m running my one errand today and then going home. I feel pretty  &lt;br&gt;crappy about myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2504812868770505357?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2504812868770505357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2504812868770505357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2504812868770505357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2504812868770505357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/falling.html' title='falling'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-784277102280892533</id><published>2010-02-16T17:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T17:54:48.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i slept for about ten minutes. I woke up and thought i was okay. I'm not. I'm panicking and i'm alone. And at the same time i don't even know what I feel. I'm so overrun with emotions that I cannot isolate a single one. If mom asks if I feel something, I say yes because I assume it's in the mix.There are much more personal and detailed things that I want to say, but i don't know how. So for now, I just won't ... at least not here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-784277102280892533?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/784277102280892533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/784277102280892533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-slept-for-about-ten-minutes.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-207622286503856552</id><published>2010-02-11T16:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T16:29:49.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Found this pretty interesting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.sarahdopp.com/blog/?p=1335"&gt;http://www.sarahdopp.com/blog/?p=1335&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;Gender, identity, and structure in surveys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-207622286503856552?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/207622286503856552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=207622286503856552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/207622286503856552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/207622286503856552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/found-this-pretty-interesting.html' title='Found this pretty interesting'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6838590542068699872</id><published>2010-02-11T02:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T02:28:28.964-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tattoo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='early morning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rambling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='truth'/><title type='text'>Oh boy. This is a confusing series of interconnected rambles.</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here fiddling around with projects, halfheartedly watching a show that i was very engaged in earlier, trying to hold back tears, getting upset looking through old post and messages on facebook ... as usual, doing too many things at once. The dog is snoring behind me and I'm listening to the boy snore over skype (in a round about way reminding myself to remember OTC sleeping pills for the trip). I'm trying to avoid turning to my less than acceptable habits for some relief and comfort. I feel sick. I haven't had much of an appetite, which is strange for me because even when i was starving myself I was hungry. I haven't even wanted to cook. (See: Losing interest in things you normally enjoy. See also: Loss of appetite) I'm having trouble focusing .... which isn't really a fair description of the chaos in my brain ... it's more that I start focusing on like 9,000 things at the same time. I don't lack focus, I just focus too much. ehh still not clear. I wish i could depict it visually. Trying to come up with a way to visualize the thought patterns, frenzy, and feeling of being in my head is basically my sole motivating factor for wanting to experiment with video production. I used to do it when I was younger, but it was lo-tech and very plot focused and not as expressionistic. I think it could work I just need some time where I don't work 11 hour days and still try to do other things. I can't sleep without a larger-than-average dose of sleeping pills and i don't really want to sleep. Which is fine except that I look tired and I don't need any other reason to dislike the way I look. Even showers aren't helping to calm me. Or even settle me down a bit. They've always been my fall back for 10 years or more. Oh boy I feel old. I've had habits for more than ten years ... damn. I got upset earlier thinking about the things that i miss and the things that have changed and the loss of external sources of stability and the loss of external things that helped to provide routine, comfort and hope for me. Heady thoughts for late night, I suppose. [Side note: I haven't packed yet ... crap. ] I don't like to think about or talk about or venture toward the things I'm upset about tonight because I feel bad for feeling them and guilty and petty almost. I don't want to hear anyone's comments about them, but I also would be terrified to just hear silence. I know the things I should or could say to myself about them that should settle my concerns but they don't work anymore. To distract myself from the tears and snot I just started writing another blog post ... wtf. I won't even let myself be upset. Not okay. I'm embarrassed about the things I want and the things I feel like I need. I'm ashamed of the things that I find comforting and I feel like I need. In the past, I've said that I was afraid of other people's reactions or I just didn't want to know them, but at the heart of that is really that i'm not strong enough on my own and in my own to stand up to criticism from the people that I care about. I have progressed in that sense. I have friends (who are really like family) that respect me and love me and will disagree with me and criticize me and I hear it and take it and absorb it and listen without fear of losing their love and without fear of losing them in my life. My family ... my biological family, not as opposed to adoptive family b/c i don't have one but as opposed to friends who are as close as family ... is very judgmental. And it's not that they don't love me, it's just that their criticism and judgment is part of how they show it. If they don't judge you, it sorta means they're not paying attention to you. But they almost universally lack the skill (if they don't lack it, they at least don't utilize it) to be attentive to how they fling their criticism about. If you're sensitive to it, you're being weak and that just invites more criticism. They also don't spend a lot of time recognizing positive things. I find written/spoken praise and compliments awkward initially, but they're also hugely rewarding. Warm-you-from-the-inside-like-a-stiff-shot-of-whiskey-on-a-cold-day rewarding. Seriously, someone told me i was awesome when I got something done right away at work today and I've latched onto it. I verbally tried to brush it off and blushed even though the person saying it was on the phone (thank goodness we don't use video chat often!) but I appreciate it because it's so rare. Often, I think/thought that the lack of acknowledging positive, administering praise and even just the general niceties like looking someone in the eye and saying "thanks for taking care of this" were missing around me because I wasn't doing my job well and wasn't being a good friend and wasn't being a good daughter or cousin or granddaughter, etc but I really think that as a culture we don't do it enough. And i'm not saying that I always deserve it and I never don't deserve it, but I really do think that we've either stopped doing it or never learned to do it or just fucking don't do it. I find myself skeptical and doubting when my family and my coworkers ... mainly my department because they all remind me of my family on a regular basis ... when they do offer praise or compliments. I wonder if they're trying to be nice to me because they think i'm losing it again or if they want something else or if they want me to go away. It's not a nice frame of mind to live in. I'm back in a place where I feel guilty if I talk about myself with anyone. I don't feel like I'm worth the time and attention. So I've avoided talking with people about these things for that reason too. But I haven't been able to or i haven't wanted to stand up to criticism and the typical responses to wanting and needing the things that I want and need and have lost and miss partially because i'm pretty good at seeing many sides and angles to situations and I haven't worked my way through responding to some of them within my own head so I know that i wouldn't' be able to do it to someone else so I just avoid it which is honestly, a cop out but I feel like it's a little valid. I also am a tad bit afraid that no one will be able to come up with anything that will feel helpful and it's just sort of depressing and i'm also avoiding that reality. But i know it's the reality with some things so wtf is that. Mhmmm. I've avoided my family and some people in my life about some of it because I don't know where they stand on some things like being open to poly relationships and I don't want to know and they don't need to know that about me. I don't like to talk to people about wanting to lose 20lbs because I don't want anyone to talk to me about how they want to lose weight or tell me I'm skinny. I don't know what I want someone to say to that, but I'm not ready to hear the responses i've received in the past again. I tried talking to my family about privilege and the twinge of jealousy that i've been trying deal with about markers that relates to that but they don't get privilege because they haven't had to question it and they all have kids who don't really have to deal with it and haven't really questioned it and I don't want teach, i want to talk. It's stupid of me because these are really intelligent people and if you could find the right language to reach them about the subject it would be worth it but i only see them in blips and by the time i want to talk about it, i'm past the point of wanting to ease into it. I'm not sure if that makes sense and it's 2am again. Last night it was 4 by the time i dozed off and 5 when i woke up again. Maybe this is all just a bunch of excuses to say that I whine about wanting to talk to someone sometimes but really i'm not sure ifi could if i was given the chance. i don't know. I want to pour it all out and create something articulate to address, but maybe i don't really want that. gross. Rage and irritability are becoming problems for me again. I'm working really hard at work and I tried to back off of the self medicating this week and I did, but didn't drop it all the way because i got really freaking nuts-o for a while and couldn't handle it. It's funny how my appreciation of my relatives changes over the years. My one aunt is like the only one that i can quickly think of who does a good job of&amp;nbsp; noticing and acknowledging the positive things. She is still whoa critical of everyone too, but she notes it all. A rounded approach is totally better in my book, btw. I'm stressed out about flying and traveling and making my flight and find it obnoxious and just want to be there. Anyone finish that teleportation device yet? As far as that schedule i posted, definitely didn't finish packing tonight. Actually didn't do more than make a mental list. Crapity crapity crap. Laundry is done except for undies, but those will go in the wash tomorrow since i have my favorite pair on and really want them to be clean. They're like the ones i got when weirdly i bought undies with some friends in another state. The dog ate those and i can't remember what type they were but i think they were from walmart and i wish i could find them again. Either way, these are similar but i only have one pair of them. Dogface ate two pairs of undies&amp;nbsp; which would seem like 4 garments but isn't since we're weird about what we call our things. Oh i am so articulate at this early morning time ... yeah, nope. Still want to clean the car and the room. That way if the pooch destroys somethign while i'm gone it won't be too vital. I bought a cute vintage-style dress to wear and i'm trying different ways to style it to stay warm because i want to wear it. it's important to me to look cute the few days we do get to see each other, but i have been a florida girl my whole life and this snow has me a bit worried about how to stay warm. Although i am so excited to maybe see snow on the ground! I know it's weird. I know i'll be over it pretty fast probably, but oh well. Probably the first time i bust my ass on some ice. I wish i had some flat boots :(&amp;nbsp; I'm worried about my toes and my lack of proper circulation in my hands and feet. Oh well. Being busy at work has kept me from ticking away the hours super slowly. it's just the nights that make it more difficult. Softball is starting up. It'd be cool to have friends who came to the games. Or even to a game. But that would require being a good friend and that has been a MAJOR shortcoming on my part lately. I really really really want a new tattoo. I doodle and check out tat tumblrs and think about where and what and if i'm ready and what it would mean and what it could mean and all of this stuff. I think it might be time for just a pretty one. That's just not me though. ugh. ugh.ugh. idk. This post is crap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6838590542068699872?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6838590542068699872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6838590542068699872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6838590542068699872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6838590542068699872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-boy-this-is-confusing-series-of.html' title='Oh boy. This is a confusing series of interconnected rambles.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2459743156217746416</id><published>2010-02-08T23:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T23:49:31.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This week.</title><content type='html'>There are several things I want to remember to do this week, but I'm afraid I'll forget because work is rather hectic and I'm pretty focused on my trip at the end of the week. Tonight, i want to finish some laundry (although it doesnt look like there's a good chance of this happening tonight) and get a good chunk of a project done (at least half). Tomorrow, finalize dog plans, errands (socks and return), work, softball, and the rest of the crafting. Wednesday work, get glasses adjusted, cleaning!!!! and any left over crafting. Thursday work, group workout (maybe), packing and then to bed early hopefully. Friday work from 6am-2ish, drive to jax, fly. Unscheduled things to do include painting my nails, possibly dyeing my hair, doing DBT workbook exercises, and yoga. Things I'm afraid I'm going to forget to pack: gloves, camera, book, music, deodorant, hair dryer, jewelry .... none of which are integral, just things I would like to have. I'm trying to make my bag lighter and smaller this time around. I found it very cumbersome last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After writing this and being interrupted so many times, I'm not sure how much I'll get done tonight. I didn't sleep much last night and Fringe has sucked me in for the last hour or so. I'll do my best though. I used to argue with my dad when he would say that that's all you can do. I'm not sure why, but that's funny to me now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited about the trip. It's a big deal for us to get a meal out together, so it's extra special that we're going somewhere nice, on valentines day, together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to know when i'll get to stop fighting. That's not very articulate. It's not that i'm going to give up or anything. It's just that for me, right now, it's very easy to be myself most of the time with someone I love and trust as much as him. Yes, I still fight to rein in my crazy and my anxiety (which, by the way, is so out of control that I actually said "I miss having medication to help deal with this", today) and maintain emotional balance. But it is so much less severe than the rest of the time. I don't think that explanation is very clear, but it is what it is right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2459743156217746416?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2459743156217746416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2459743156217746416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2459743156217746416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2459743156217746416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/this-week.html' title='This week.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-586220658408410486</id><published>2010-02-07T02:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T02:50:47.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yuck</title><content type='html'>I think the ridiculous amount of crying i did earlier released whatever sickness I had been holding at a tolerable level. Vitamins, fluids already taken care of, but sleep seems so far away. I'm so tired but can't fall asleep. My anxiety has overpowered any tactic that I can muster up right now. I'm just going to doodle and watch stupid TV for awhile. I hope everyone I care about is peacefully sleeping or is at least at peace with whatever they're doing right now. I miss you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-586220658408410486?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/586220658408410486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=586220658408410486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/586220658408410486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/586220658408410486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/yuck.html' title='yuck'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5624334130461407987</id><published>2010-02-05T17:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T17:16:12.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I was resistant, but they're really good</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAvnOWc5uD0&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAvnOWc5uD0&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;lt;object width=&amp;quot;425&amp;quot; height=&amp;quot;344&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=&amp;quot;movie&amp;quot; value=&amp;quot;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/YAvnOWc5uD0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/v/YAvnOWc5uD0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=&amp;quot;allowFullScreen&amp;quot; value=&amp;quot;true&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param  &lt;br&gt;name=&amp;quot;allowScriptAccess&amp;quot; value=&amp;quot;always&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=&amp;quot;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/v/YAvnOWc5uD0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/v/YAvnOWc5uD0&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot; type=&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash&amp;quot; allowfullscreen=&amp;quot;true&amp;quot;  &lt;br&gt;allowScriptAccess=&amp;quot;always&amp;quot; width=&amp;quot;425&amp;quot; height=&amp;quot;344&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/object&amp;gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5624334130461407987?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5624334130461407987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5624334130461407987' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5624334130461407987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5624334130461407987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-was-resistant-but-theyre-really-good.html' title='I was resistant, but they&apos;re really good'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4120099453457352033</id><published>2010-02-04T18:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T18:41:37.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks for very little, thursday.</title><content type='html'>I don't know how to describe today, other than to say that by the end of the day I felt like a little kid ready to throw a tantrum. Today irritated the pants off of me. I had hopes for today too, so sad. I was ready to come here and write and rant a bit, but I'm this close *_* to being out of dog food and I really don't think it's good for me to sit around the house and mope so I'm going to the store. And might make a stop to continue my endless quest for shoes that fit. Maybe. I feel so bad when I leave the dog alone for so long, but I really need to get dog food for him and to take care of me and these nasty thoughts and feelings (no, not the good kind of nasty) pronto. Maybe I'll get him an extra treat or something while I'm out. Another Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4120099453457352033?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4120099453457352033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4120099453457352033' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4120099453457352033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4120099453457352033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/thanks-for-very-little-thursday.html' title='Thanks for very little, thursday.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-27578963246873321</id><published>2010-02-03T17:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T17:58:29.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2.3.10</title><content type='html'>I was cleaning out my old emails today and found the email my boss  &lt;br&gt;sent to everyone letting them know why i was missing a lot of work. I  &lt;br&gt;got angry about it all over again.&lt;p&gt;While driving earlier, I realized I was feeling pretty paranoid and  &lt;br&gt;sort of nutty in general. Got home to discover the dog had peed on the  &lt;br&gt;bed (again!!!!) and on the couch. I should probably keep the vet  &lt;br&gt;appointment and ask them to test him for a UTI. Bye-bye spending  &lt;br&gt;money, been nice seeing you in the bank account. I couldn&amp;#39;t figure out  &lt;br&gt;why I was so tired yesterday (I went to be early and took a nap after  &lt;br&gt;work ... not in that order) but then today I woke up with a sore  &lt;br&gt;throat and runny nose which might be related. I&amp;#39;ve been feeling a  &lt;br&gt;little nutty (in the scary way) lately and started looking back  &lt;br&gt;through old journal entries and notes and it seems pretty much like a  &lt;br&gt;pattern that this time of year doesn&amp;#39;t turn out too well. It reminds  &lt;br&gt;me of that time in high school where the shit hit the fan and  &lt;br&gt;subsequently got messier and messier every day for a month or so.  &lt;br&gt;There was an extended metaphor there but I can&amp;#39;t recall it. It was  &lt;br&gt;nasty. I learned that I was too trusting and I started to question if  &lt;br&gt;I knew those people as well as I thought I did. They made our parents  &lt;br&gt;come to the school and that didn&amp;#39;t go as planned for them. I saw a  &lt;br&gt;guidance counselor actually pull a teacher into a closet to talk about  &lt;br&gt;me. I seriously considered hiding in the bathroom, but didn&amp;#39;t.  &lt;br&gt;Sometimes I look back on that and it seems like it could&amp;#39;ve been a  &lt;br&gt;turning point and other times it seems like the most ridiculous  &lt;br&gt;situation. It also reminds me about that time 3 years ago where I  &lt;br&gt;missed the super bowl and couldn&amp;#39;t write that ad paper because I was  &lt;br&gt;out of it and they hadn&amp;#39;t bothered to even try to get everything out  &lt;br&gt;of my system so i was still under the influence and they were making  &lt;br&gt;me walk around and do all the inpatient intake stuff. Eeesh. Maybe I  &lt;br&gt;should take that mental health day i keep threatening to take. At  &lt;br&gt;least i have a kick ass vacation planned. And by planned I mean i have  &lt;br&gt;my plane reservations. I don&amp;#39;t do much other planning when i go for a  &lt;br&gt;visit. It&amp;#39;s enough just to be in the same city.&lt;p&gt;More laundry is calling my name. Sometimes this dog really makes me  &lt;br&gt;feel like a mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-27578963246873321?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/27578963246873321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=27578963246873321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/27578963246873321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/27578963246873321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/2310.html' title='2.3.10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1453341610376008583</id><published>2010-02-01T08:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T08:24:33.809-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whine'/><title type='text'>complaining.</title><content type='html'>I should leave for work within the next 15 minutes. I should also scold the dog for relieving himself on my bed again ... twice. The house is a mess and I don't feel well. Obviously the dog isn't feeling too hot either if he needed to go on the bed or maybe he just hates me for making him go with me this weekend. I'm tempted to take a sick day and give into how I feel. Tempted to stay home and take care of my body and my emotional health rather than push my self through work, but I feel guilty for taking time off. I feel guilty every time i take a sick day and I'm not violently ill. I really need to spend time doing laundry and cleaning my place so I don't spend every second here absolutely hating it. I also feel guilty for vacation days even though i'm pretty sure I do my part to earn them. I hate ticks. And ear aches and stomach aches.  And dogs who pee on my bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1453341610376008583?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1453341610376008583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1453341610376008583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1453341610376008583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1453341610376008583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/02/complaining.html' title='complaining.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5920920504967521586</id><published>2010-01-27T18:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T18:02:55.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>stinky</title><content type='html'>So i&amp;#39;ve basically stopped taking care of myself .... again. To give  &lt;br&gt;myself credit, I did really well for a couple weeks. I ate really  &lt;br&gt;good, healthy, balanced meals. Even breakfast! I did a yoga and  &lt;br&gt;pilates routine. I went to bed before 3am.&lt;p&gt;I, in all honesty, can&amp;#39;t figure out the last day I showered. Eww, I  &lt;br&gt;guess.  I think it was sunday. It&amp;#39;s only wednesday so I don&amp;#39;t feel too  &lt;br&gt;appalled yet. I was almost late for work this morning because i was  &lt;br&gt;looking up information that really didn&amp;#39;t need to be synthesized by  &lt;br&gt;me. I cried driving to work, back to the house, in the bathroom, and  &lt;br&gt;back to work again at lunch ... for some reason that is lost to me. I  &lt;br&gt;knew at the time. Each time. I&amp;#39;ve been taking allergy medicine for  &lt;br&gt;sinus issues and also very much enjoying the sedating side effects.  &lt;br&gt;Yes, it takes me longer to do my work but my crazy is asleep for a bit  &lt;br&gt;so I just push down the  anxious chorus pounding on my chest and can  &lt;br&gt;go back to work. Mostly no harm, no foul. Mostly.&lt;p&gt;I really like Dexter. I thought the &amp;quot;dark passenger&amp;quot; metaphor/ &lt;br&gt;characterization was a little cheesy these past two seasons, but it&amp;#39;s  &lt;br&gt;simple enough that it works. Definitely sad that they killed off that  &lt;br&gt;one integral character that I don&amp;#39;t want to spoil in case anyone  &lt;br&gt;watches or reads, but not at the same time. I think the writers are  &lt;br&gt;really good at manipulating how you feel about the characters and the  &lt;br&gt;show sucks you in so well that you are able to be manipulated as  &lt;br&gt;Dexter&amp;#39;s feelings toward them change. It&amp;#39;s really great writing. The  &lt;br&gt;acting isn&amp;#39;t shabby either.&lt;br&gt;This was going to go somewhere about the concept of the dark passenger.&lt;p&gt;What I&amp;#39;d really like to do is start getting up earlier. I don&amp;#39;t enjoy  &lt;br&gt;my job so I don&amp;#39;t want to wake up just for my job and shut down when I  &lt;br&gt;leave my job. I don&amp;#39;t want to structure my days around something that  &lt;br&gt;stresses me out so much and makes me grumpy and sweaty. I want work to  &lt;br&gt;be something that I do in my day not the reason i get up for the day.  &lt;br&gt;Does that even make sense?  I don&amp;#39;t care if it does because it does to  &lt;br&gt;me.&lt;br&gt;This was going to go&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;I need to leave the office. This can be finished from home after  &lt;br&gt;applications and shirts tonight.&lt;p&gt;out of the office before 7!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5920920504967521586?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5920920504967521586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5920920504967521586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5920920504967521586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5920920504967521586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/stinky.html' title='stinky'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-359487406965653765</id><published>2010-01-19T16:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T16:36:05.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"alligator tears cried over you"</title><content type='html'>There&amp;#39;s been some things going on in life lately that have been  &lt;br&gt;weighing heavily on me. Until today, I wasn&amp;#39;t really able to  &lt;br&gt;articulate them clearly enough. I thought I might feel better about  &lt;br&gt;them after being able to define the source of some of this trouble,  &lt;br&gt;but it hasn&amp;#39;t helped. I&amp;#39;m pretty sure that it&amp;#39;s actually made it  &lt;br&gt;worse. It&amp;#39;s also made me aware of other things I&amp;#39;ve been holding on  &lt;br&gt;to. I&amp;#39;m pretty upset. I fell apart late last night and haven&amp;#39;t done  &lt;br&gt;well shaking it off. I&amp;#39;m taking a break to cry in the bathroom for a  &lt;br&gt;bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-359487406965653765?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/359487406965653765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=359487406965653765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/359487406965653765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/359487406965653765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/alligator-tears-cried-over-you.html' title='&quot;alligator tears cried over you&quot;'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4571953241532259108</id><published>2010-01-18T15:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T15:52:49.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whooops</title><content type='html'>I just zones out for almost an hour. uh oh :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4571953241532259108?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4571953241532259108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4571953241532259108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4571953241532259108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4571953241532259108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/whooops.html' title='whooops'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3556394125250932423</id><published>2010-01-18T09:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T09:30:17.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1/18/10</title><content type='html'>Having shoes that fit properly is a good feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3556394125250932423?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3556394125250932423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3556394125250932423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3556394125250932423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3556394125250932423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/11810.html' title='1/18/10'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2110310994037210376</id><published>2010-01-15T00:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T02:05:41.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>headspace (edited)</title><content type='html'>I'm in a really weird headspace right now. I feel really disconnected to the people around me and in my life. Work has been absolutely intense every day this week. Working from a little after 8am to after 7pm. The place that I worked launched a MAJOR national campaign this week and we're handling major promos for a couple other clients and we're still only 150 people or so. He and I have both been sick and not well which is really difficult when you're far away. I got rejected again today. It was harder than I had expected to hear because I wasn't really aware of how hopeful I'd become about it and how much I really wanted it until I really started to think about it last night and today. It all sort of came crashing down at work when I got the rejection email. I shouldn't have opened it at work, but I did and fell apart. I'm also in a weird place with moods, food, body, self care, friends, family, creativity, relationship, living arrangements and sex. (Does that leave anything out?) I want time to write and I accidentally took a nap a little while ago so I'm going to take a shower, make some tea and then come back here and, if I still feel up to it, get into this because I owe it to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the shower made me feel worse. And the tea didn't happen because I'm trying to be a considerate roommate and not microwave something at 2am and don't have a kettle and the pots are all dirty ... plus that's too much work for right now. I guess I'll have to write myself an IOU and pass for tonight. I'm going to try some meditation. (I wrote medication, which might happen too) The shortest summary is that i'm going through what's known as a mixed episode. As I'm learning more and starting to think about accepting this most recent diagnosis I'm able to identify some patterns in my life. This unfortunately doesn't fit the patterns i've noticed and my cycles have slipped away from what i thought was my pattern and i don't know what to say except it's getting worse. I've had three experiences that I don't know how to describe except to say that I lost contact with reality ... seriously was unable to decide what was real or not. It's not that this hasn't happened before, it's just never happened this often this close together and it's never not been connected to some really scary times. At least I'm aware though ... i guess. i dont' know. There's tons tons tons more that iwant to say and write about, but I think I need some quiet time away from electronics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2110310994037210376?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2110310994037210376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2110310994037210376' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2110310994037210376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2110310994037210376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/headspace.html' title='headspace (edited)'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1357151285656744552</id><published>2010-01-13T18:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T18:19:45.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel like I should have known ...</title><content type='html'>The first thought through my brain when I woke up this morning was &amp;quot;oh  &lt;br&gt;I don&amp;#39;t feel well&amp;quot;. At which point, I immediately shut off my alarm  &lt;br&gt;and went back to sleep. That&amp;#39;s not something that I like to do. I also  &lt;br&gt;don&amp;#39;t like to forget that I need to put gas in the car or be late for  &lt;br&gt;work, but both of those also happened this morning. I went to bed  &lt;br&gt;anxious and not feeling my best. I was worried but didn&amp;#39;t want to call  &lt;br&gt;because I didn&amp;#39;t want to seem intrusive or needy or shirked. But I did  &lt;br&gt;feel those things :( I mantra-ed to myself my new favorite quote about  &lt;br&gt;jealousy because somewhere in my mind i was partially sure that  &lt;br&gt;someone more interesting had come along. Not in a long-term way. But  &lt;br&gt;then it sorta turned out that the worrying was warranted but not the  &lt;br&gt;jealousy and i had other not-good feelings about that. I worked late  &lt;br&gt;last night and it looks like that could happen again tonight. I&amp;#39;m  &lt;br&gt;trying not to give into the reality that i&amp;#39;m sick, but it&amp;#39;s definitely  &lt;br&gt;reality. There&amp;#39;s drama afoot at work lately and it makes it even more  &lt;br&gt;difficult for me to be here. I want to run some errands after work to  &lt;br&gt;pick up some soup and a couple things that I&amp;#39;d like to add to a  &lt;br&gt;project that&amp;#39;s become surprisingly near and dear to my heart, but it&amp;#39;s  &lt;br&gt;cold and i&amp;#39;m tired and obviously whiny. I&amp;#39;m also avoiding writing  &lt;br&gt;about what I really wanted to write about today: irritation, anger,  &lt;br&gt;and rage. I&amp;#39;ve thought about it in-depth and have spent quite some  &lt;br&gt;time observing my relationship with those feelings and I&amp;#39;m not proud  &lt;br&gt;of them but I feel the need to address it because they have SUCH an  &lt;br&gt;impact on myself. I&amp;#39;ve been avoiding feeling anything for fear of  &lt;br&gt;feeling those things lately because I feel so powerless and consumed  &lt;br&gt;when those get into the mix. I think we&amp;#39;re taught really interesting  &lt;br&gt;things about those emotions and despite how useful I think they can be  &lt;br&gt;at times, I&amp;#39;ve let them take a really destructive path through my life  &lt;br&gt;in the past few years. My skin certainly bears the marks of that  &lt;br&gt;truth. Although more times than I&amp;#39;d like to count I&amp;#39;ve sat in corners  &lt;br&gt;mumbling and sobbing and staying away from everything and sitting on  &lt;br&gt;my hands because I&amp;#39;m too afraid of myself to move. It&amp;#39;s weird how self  &lt;br&gt;preservation kicks in sometimes. I&amp;#39;ve decided that I don&amp;#39;t really want  &lt;br&gt;to dive into this topic fully where I am right now. I can feel the  &lt;br&gt;tears. I think I&amp;#39;m going to set some time aside every couple of days  &lt;br&gt;to write ... to write mindfully.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;btw, style school so far seems to be a great decision.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1357151285656744552?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1357151285656744552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1357151285656744552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1357151285656744552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1357151285656744552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-feel-like-i-should-have-known.html' title='I feel like I should have known ...'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4455463229436072980</id><published>2010-01-11T15:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T15:32:37.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wow, someone noticed that I colored my hair</title><content type='html'>I really hope the weirdness gong on with my brain/mental state is due  &lt;br&gt;to the sickness and cold medicine.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;														If not, then it&amp;#39;s officially okay to be worried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4455463229436072980?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4455463229436072980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4455463229436072980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4455463229436072980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4455463229436072980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/wow-someone-noticed-that-i-colored-my.html' title='wow, someone noticed that I colored my hair'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8348628131922776448</id><published>2010-01-09T03:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T03:33:27.108-05:00</updated><title type='text'>uh hmmmm</title><content type='html'>Well, I sent in my TFA application. It's another long shot, but it's still a shot. I only told two people about it. Guess it's back to the rest of the applications tomorrow.  So it's 3am and I'm up, shivering and digging the newest Coyote Grace songs. It's rather cold here. Gmail thinks it should be snowing, but I think it's wrong. It is supposed to drop below 20 tonight ... not exactly FL weather. I hope there's snow when I go up north again. Gotta get shoes first though. I don't have any that are appropriate except my running shoes and those aren't even really. So ... sometimes all the stuff going on in my brain makes it really difficult to concentrate. That's pretty much defined this week. Serious struggles. I wish I could describe it just for the sake of validating it in some form but i get confused and can't make everything overlap at the right rate. Maybe words aren't the right medium. Maybe typed words are incorrect. This is a worthless post. Worthless like most of my efforts. I want guitar lessons. Or maybe just some concentration and some time alone. Really alone, no dog no roomate in the house, no cat, etc. Unlikely. I can't focus. I've had 4 panic attacks in the last 7 days. I hadn't experienced a full blown one in more than 2 months. Not fun. I know i know i know. Go to the doctor get back on meds but it's not what i want right now and it's not what my damn bank account wants and I would consider just anx meds but i haven't found a doctor that doesn't push and that i feel respects my desires about not medicating. I know the stat and can calculate the odds just let me try for a little while. I know it's dangerous and i'm seeing the warning signs but i don't want that medicine coma back. The irony there is that i've been trying pretty hard to stay fairly sedated. I think the correct term for what i've been experiencing is a mixed episode. I hate manic symptoms for the most part. Except for when i think they're great, of course. I'm struggling with my body and weight and identity and sex. I don't and haven't told anyone many of the things that enter my head when i'm like this because i fear judgement. Some of it makes me laugh because it's so out there but i don't want to freak anyone out or just weird them out and i feel bad for thinking and wanting some of it lol I don't know how to explain it. It's like a double-shot of espresso ( that word does not have an X for those of you who incorrectly pronounce it...) combined with the skin-crawling weird ears/jaw thing that you feel when you pull a cotton ball apart and aching body with racing thoughts and confusion and somewhere in the whole mix you fall and want to die and can't think of anything except how insanely large the failure that you're breathing is. Yeah not making sense anymore. Enjoying the man's music now. Sometimes i really wish i felt more comfortable and less afraid of judgement about being in an open/poly-possible relationship. People talk about their experiences with their spouses or sig others and I want to chime in with something that seems so normal to me but i'm fortunately aware that it's not. I probably could and everyone at my current job considers me so eccentric that they might think i was joking or just take it in stride and talk about me later  but i dont want to really risk it. Sometimes my head feels like when you watch a video and the audio are out of sync and it creates this dissonance but at the same time imagine hearing the parts of an orchestra warming up but on their own and not resolving into anythign coordinated. I'm afraid one of these days that it'll step out of hypomania or a mixed and actually just be mania. It's only happened like one and a half times before and NONE of it was pleasant. Repairing/cleaning up the aftermath was like rebuilding an intricate puzzle of some distant ex that you really knew really well but found out you didn't know that well when they cheated on you with someoen who was way more interesting than you. I think i should try to sleep. I really need my brain to turn off for a few hours. I hope i don't end up just staring at the ceiling. Sorry for the chaos. More later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8348628131922776448?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8348628131922776448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8348628131922776448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8348628131922776448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8348628131922776448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/uh-hmmmm.html' title='uh hmmmm'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4917894324186225856</id><published>2010-01-08T00:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T00:01:21.732-05:00</updated><title type='text'>dissapointed</title><content type='html'>i don't feel like i've done anything today but eat. gross&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4917894324186225856?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4917894324186225856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4917894324186225856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4917894324186225856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4917894324186225856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/dissapointed.html' title='dissapointed'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3093417452374969750</id><published>2010-01-06T17:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T17:47:28.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cold toes</title><content type='html'>I have letters that I need to be writing. One in particular that needs  &lt;br&gt;to be done ASAP. I&amp;#39;ve worked myself into quite the stressed little  &lt;br&gt;ball over it. When I get this stressed out over something I tend to  &lt;br&gt;think about it while doing everything else. I also get the urge to do  &lt;br&gt;random things, like dye my hair, make marshmallows or shop for the  &lt;br&gt;perfect purse-sized sketch pad. Not the most productive things. I&amp;#39;ve  &lt;br&gt;decided that I won&amp;#39;t do any of those things until I finish a draft of  &lt;br&gt;the letter. I&amp;#39;d probably be more productive if I sat here in my office  &lt;br&gt;and did it, truthfully. Do you hear all of the procrastination? : &lt;br&gt;( When I started this last night I really felt like I was making a  &lt;br&gt;good decision. I&amp;#39;m trying not to get myself too hyped up about it  &lt;br&gt;because it&amp;#39;s sort of a long shot.&lt;p&gt;focus!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3093417452374969750?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3093417452374969750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3093417452374969750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3093417452374969750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3093417452374969750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/cold-toes.html' title='cold toes'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1897301006389403230</id><published>2010-01-05T17:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T17:46:32.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>treat?</title><content type='html'>Did you do that head-tilt thing that dogs do when you say a word like  &lt;br&gt;that to them? I did.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m having a heavy, crappy, self loathing sort of day. I want to get  &lt;br&gt;out of it. No ... I want to get out of this place where most of my  &lt;br&gt;days feel like this and where I can&amp;#39;t even imagine mustering the  &lt;br&gt;energy or courage it must take to work for that new place.&lt;p&gt;Just typing that made me tear up. It&amp;#39;s the truth though. I&amp;#39;ve shaken  &lt;br&gt;off enough of the manic, premenstrual, anticipatory stuff to now hit  &lt;br&gt;the part where I can feel enough to know that I&amp;#39;m not feeling enough  &lt;br&gt;of everything. I&amp;#39;m in the grey zone where even my lows are mediocre  &lt;br&gt;and leave me wishing for more. Sometimes, it&amp;#39;s the hardest part of my  &lt;br&gt;moods. It&amp;#39;s where I&amp;#39;m optimistic enough to feel like something  &lt;br&gt;different is possible, but pessimistic enough to be afraid and  &lt;br&gt;seriously and thoroughly doubt my ability to work to attain that  &lt;br&gt;&amp;quot;something different&amp;quot;. It&amp;#39;s where the really dangerous time are  &lt;br&gt;because I get depressed and then downward cycle/spiral myself into a  &lt;br&gt;hole from thinking about how even if I could do the work and find the  &lt;br&gt;help that nothing would ever feel different because I never could be  &lt;br&gt;capable of getting better because this down-and-depressed-and-crazy- &lt;br&gt;and-moody person is intrinsically who I am and will never change  &lt;br&gt;because I&amp;#39;m too weak, pathetic, tired, sad, needy (blah, blah, and  &lt;br&gt;blah). Can you follow the staircase? From there it&amp;#39;s just a few steps  &lt;br&gt;to then-what&amp;#39;s-the-point-in-trying and from there it&amp;#39;s only a few more  &lt;br&gt;to what&amp;#39;s-the-point-in-anything-landing. And from there it&amp;#39;s just a  &lt;br&gt;bottle or a rope or a what ever it might be this time before I find  &lt;br&gt;myself back in a freezing hospital with routines and scared nursing  &lt;br&gt;students. They always look frightened.&lt;p&gt;I stopped writing for a bit because I realized that this train was one  &lt;br&gt;that needed attention and that I was simultaneously neglecting my  &lt;br&gt;work. So I got a crap ton of work completed and am now attacking the  &lt;br&gt;large pile of crap that I&amp;#39;ve let build up. I intend to come back to  &lt;br&gt;this, but the funny thing is that I started writing this basically to  &lt;br&gt;say that since I need a pick me up and since I found $11 in my coat  &lt;br&gt;pocket today, I&amp;#39;m going to treat myself to a book or a magazine and  &lt;br&gt;some coffee. (I knew there was money in the pocket but I thought it  &lt;br&gt;was just a dollar bill so I was leaving it there for a soda craving or  &lt;br&gt;a coffee craving.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1897301006389403230?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1897301006389403230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1897301006389403230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1897301006389403230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1897301006389403230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/treat.html' title='treat?'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2921024789525072822</id><published>2010-01-04T16:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T16:21:18.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;div apple-content-edited="true"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;div style="word-wrap: break-word; -khtml-nbsp-mode: space; -khtml-line-break: after-white-space; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Here's a New Year's Eve message delivered by author Neil Gaiman at Symphony Hall in Boston:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art -- write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;...I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2921024789525072822?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2921024789525072822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2921024789525072822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2921024789525072822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2921024789525072822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8439685462232906069</id><published>2009-12-30T11:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T11:08:35.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yuck</title><content type='html'>There&amp;#39;s something that I&amp;#39;m trying to deal with but I feel really  &lt;br&gt;detached and not willing or able to deal with it. I&amp;#39;m not going to  &lt;br&gt;have much of a choice pretty soon. I&amp;#39;m guarded and afraid to just feel  &lt;br&gt;how I feel about it, despite feeling like I had made my peace with it.  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m just still hurt and unsure and really vulnerable. I&amp;#39;m apprehensive  &lt;br&gt;and it&amp;#39;s compounded by hormones and an approaching indicator. It&amp;#39;s the  &lt;br&gt;type of situation that makes me stay up all night thinking and want to  &lt;br&gt;sleep all day and hope that my brain stops working. It&amp;#39;s the type of  &lt;br&gt;situation that makes me want to give up. It&amp;#39;s not that dramatic or  &lt;br&gt;heavy normally but the past couple of days I have felt the weight of  &lt;br&gt;it intensely. I have some serious negativity about it, but I&amp;#39;m trying  &lt;br&gt;really hard not to let it ruin anything else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8439685462232906069?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8439685462232906069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8439685462232906069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8439685462232906069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8439685462232906069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/yuck.html' title='yuck'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1223687354054342811</id><published>2009-12-29T16:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T02:06:55.939-05:00</updated><title type='text'>antsy pants</title><content type='html'>I'm getting very antsy for this week to move forward. I want the day to be over and my house to be cleaner (i'm not sure CLEAN is really ever attainable, I think it's sort of like tomorrow).  I want people to be here and I want time off where I don't have to travel. I'm making treats and snacks for this week tonight and if it takes long enough, I'll get a little help. LOL. I wanted to go look for a couple of sweaters because it's been a tad chilly lately, but I need to let the dog out, want to make things and my xmas cash can continue to hang out in my bank account.  I want friends around. I want my man in my bed. Sorry, but it's true. Forgot toilet paper again last night and need supplies for the snacks ... if I decide to make them all. Going to the store after work again. Still need to pick up alcohol too. I think I'll go home, let the dog out, start the snacks and cleaning and then go back out. I can always get the libations on my lunch tomorrow. Cleaning is the most important though. I'm just worried about having space for people and their thing and not driving people crazy with my version of organization.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I heard back about that interview. No go for the second round. Trying to ignore it, but *ouch*. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have ignored work for long enough. Back to the estimates. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1223687354054342811?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1223687354054342811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1223687354054342811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1223687354054342811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1223687354054342811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/antsy-pants.html' title='antsy pants'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8357537202978343279</id><published>2009-12-29T00:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T01:27:23.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This was thoughtful until the end.</title><content type='html'>My body has very physical reactions to stress. My mouth gets canker sores. My hands and fingertips get eczema. And the back of my head and neck develop hives. The physical reactions to stress have changed and fluctuated over the years, but they have always had one predictable effect on me. They have always made me feel decidedly unsexy which is insanely frustrating when some of them are caused by that very same feeling and the things I think about and do to try to combat that. (Does that make sense at all? I had to take some tylenol PM so I can sleep tonight and to get some relief from the mouth pain.) I was already starting to stress about how to manage how I look with how I want to feel and how I want other people to see me but then i was sidelined by the pain in my mouth and the itchiness and the exhaustion. I've reached a plateau of sorts. I'll call it my take-me-as-i-am plateau. I've spent too much time changing and trying to be something and someone different so people will be attracted to me and want to sleep with me and be around me and like me. I'm fairly over it, at least for now. I'm buying the clothes I buy because I feel good in them, not because I think they demonstrate that I'm attracted to and attractive to certain people. I'm wearing what I wear because it looks good on me, not because I feel awkward and left behind. If I feel left behind and awkward it's okay to change if it's really for me. And it's okay to pay attention to fashion and trends and it's okay to intentionally ignore them and avoid them if it's realy for me. In the past 7 or so years I've gone from a size three to a size 12 and everywhere in between and back again. I think I've even done that up and down and up again in the past year. I was stressing about being perceived as sexy, but damnit right now if you don't think I'm sexy and want to sleep with me as I am then I don't want to sleep with you. I don't want to tell myself that I need to shave (although I enjoy it) or need to wear makeup (also something I sometimes enjoy) or need to do certain things and be certain ways for someone to be attracted to me, to want to stay with me, and to want to commit to me. I'm just going to be me in the best ways that I can and that's just going to be enough. Maybe I'm going to be the best me in the best ways that I can?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gross. Just had to take a break writing to take more ticks off of the dog. Gross gross gross gross gross! He's not a fan either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8357537202978343279?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8357537202978343279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8357537202978343279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8357537202978343279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8357537202978343279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-was-thoughtful-until-end.html' title='This was thoughtful until the end.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1805980888155634971</id><published>2009-12-28T17:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T17:45:24.617-05:00</updated><title type='text'>useless</title><content type='html'>&lt;div apple-content-edited="true"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;div style="word-wrap: break-word; -khtml-nbsp-mode: space; -khtml-line-break: after-white-space; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I've been basically useless at work today. I don't feel very put together or I do feel very haphazardly put together. I don't know how to explain it. I don't feel well physically. I had a horrible time sleeping last night and I went to bed super irritated. My irritability spilled over today and I basically just fell apart at lunch. Thankfully, I was home by myself and had time to just sit with myself and cry. I forgot a decent-sized part of my shopping list last night so I really should run out and finish picking up things tonight. I brought a couple things that I need to return with me, but I"m not sure I have the patience for them today. &amp;nbsp;I'm tired, but I have plans for dessert and coffee tonight. I want to leave myself tomorrow to clean so that I'm not in the middle of it while friends are arriving. I really, really hate cleaning. Well it's not so much that but I hate that I don't have very clear, easily accessible places for everything to go. Since moving everything to accommodate a roommate, space is tight. Most days it doesn't bother me, but lately everything feels cluttered and crowded. And messy. And sloppy. And immature. And gross. The craft supplies are difficult to put away because I don't have enough drawer space to fit everything like I used to do in the old house. I want the dining room table (that now lives in the bedroom) to be clear except for presents. The difficulty is that the dog is still destructive so things need to live out of reach most of the time. I'm really irritable and feeling pretty much like avoiding all of humanity until I can feel comfortable breathing again. It's more than irritable, though. I'm not really sure how to clearly explain it. I'm sure that there's a lot of emotions going on, but sometimes when things get this difficult for me to navigate I wish I could go back a few years where my walls were thick with anger and very little made it through to me. I sometimes wish that I could just feel one thing the majority of the time ... even if it was negative. Days like this make me wish that I could just choose to feel that way again. Impermeable. Solid. I know that when I feel like this it's important to focus on self care. There's a song on a CD that E sent me that has really been the only thing to make me smile in a couple days. The song is "Friends" by Band of Skulls.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/8207514"&gt;Here's a link to a live performance&lt;/a&gt;. &amp;nbsp;So that's become part of my self care for today. I also plan to go run those errands and maybe continue my epic hunt for shoes. The self care part of that is that I'm not going to feel guilty for not rushing home to talk to people online (I have a cell phone people can call me if they need me. There's no reason for me to rush home or to want to feel needed so badly.) or to let the dog out (I went home at lunch and he'll be okay). If I can get the toiletry items that I need, I also plan on taking a long and thorough shower tonight. You know that part in Garden State near the fireplace where she danced? I'm in it right now. Working through and into some thoughts. I wish i didn't have them. I wish i could run from them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;work work work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1805980888155634971?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1805980888155634971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1805980888155634971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1805980888155634971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1805980888155634971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/useless.html' title='useless'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-994094222292490936</id><published>2009-12-28T00:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T00:58:46.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I really miss Layla. We had to put her to sleep the day after christmas. She fell on christmas eve and didn't stand up on her own for almost two full days. She was so aggressive in the vet's office. I really wish she hadn't been. I hate remembering her that way. It's what needed to be done, I know this. But part of me really questioned it on the way home. She was almost 13. What is that in "dog years"? Almost 91 I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My emotions are all over the place again today and I'm hoping that I can keep things better in control tomorrow. I need to find my way back to a place where I'm taking control of what I'm feeling because right now, this feels like I'm attached to a yo-yo that I've handed to an unskilled 5 year old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-994094222292490936?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/994094222292490936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=994094222292490936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/994094222292490936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/994094222292490936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-really-miss-layla.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4113451500198192581</id><published>2009-12-23T12:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T12:44:04.870-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div apple-content-edited="true"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;div style="word-wrap: break-word; -khtml-nbsp-mode: space; -khtml-line-break: after-white-space; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 0px 0px; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: auto; -khtml-text-decorations-in-effect: none; text-indent: 0px; -apple-text-size-adjust: auto; text-transform: none; orphans: 2; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I plan on using my lunch time today to do something for me to help me feel grounded and calmed to prep for the upcoming chaos. Honestly, it might be a nap. I'm still feeling sick and woke myself up this morning by coughing up nastiness. My anxiety is a bit out of control today and I've even avoided caffeine. I wish I would've picked up some kava tea. I could run to fresh market, but i'd rather not add stress by trying to possibly alleviate some of the physical effects of it. &amp;nbsp;I'm thinking embroidering maybe? I meant go get rawhides to bribe Odysseus with on the way down south. Too late now, I guess. Although I could swing by on the way out of town. I'm still debating about signing up for&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://frecklednest.blogspot.com/2009/11/style-school-details-project-list.html"&gt;Style School&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;with some of my favorite bloggers. So tempting, but a solid chunk of change. Would basically eliminate any spending money from Jan, but would give me projects ideas and inspiration so it seems totally worth it. In all honesty, I meant to add it to my xmas list, but forgot. That kava tea should've been on my list too! The office has such a weird atmosphere here today. Quiet and intense, but also a bit erie for a building that's usually full of screaming, running, and hectic demanding. I painted my nails last night but somehow forgot to paint my pinkie nail on my right hand. Whoops. On an even more random note, things like&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=37100927"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;make me miss my gaged earrings. And now i've killed enough time to actually take a lunch.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br class="Apple-interchange-newline"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4113451500198192581?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4113451500198192581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4113451500198192581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4113451500198192581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4113451500198192581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/me-time.html' title='Me time.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2826912118972043021</id><published>2009-12-20T13:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T15:04:17.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>procrastination</title><content type='html'>I have very little food in the house and an odd assortment at that. Corn, tomato soup, graham crackers, and ice cream. I've been sticking with the graham crackers for ease of eating and because they feel like what you're supposed to eat when you feel icky. The soup will be dinner, for sure. But, my point is that there's things like grocery shopping that I need to do. I'll only be here a few days this week, but i certainly can't eat out every day, for every meal. I also have yet to finish christmas shopping for the people that I will spend Christmas day with ... whoops.  It's more fun for me to buy for the people that won't be there not because they won't be there, but because i'm more confident of my ability to provide them with something that they'll appreciate and enjoy and it's really important to me. Plus I'm anxious about going home. I'm hoping for the whirlwind of relatives and chaos to fend off most one on one and intense conversations. Despite the things I need to be doing, I'm in bed. Feeling sick and icky and dreading work tomorrow for fear that i'll still feel this way.  I got up and showered this morning to go to something important and the shower got me so tired that i needed to lie down and i fell asleep again :(  I'm trying to keep my mood up or at least level. It's always a struggle when i don't feel well physically. I've moved my positive things to a small notebook that's turned into an art journal. I think i want to get books for dad. I'd like to finish jewelry for mom, but maybe an ornament to supplement. And for the brother cold weather things, I think. idk. Running out of time for sure. I think I need to lie down again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2826912118972043021?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2826912118972043021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2826912118972043021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2826912118972043021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2826912118972043021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/procrastination.html' title='procrastination'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-7039643433330182551</id><published>2009-12-17T16:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T16:39:11.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday 12/17</title><content type='html'>Today has been a struggle for me. There&amp;#39;s been SO many things to do  &lt;br&gt;just at/for work. I haven&amp;#39;t really even put a dent in my personal to- &lt;br&gt;do list. Whatever sickness is creeping into my body is definitely  &lt;br&gt;finding a way to settle in my chest which doesn&amp;#39;t help the way i feel  &lt;br&gt;when days of physical sickness walk hand in hand with days of high  &lt;br&gt;anxiety. I need a break from this office and the petty BS that runs  &lt;br&gt;rampant. I don&amp;#39;t expect to find a place where it doesn&amp;#39;t exist, I just  &lt;br&gt;expect to find people who deal with it more effectively.&lt;p&gt;We have a tradition of a holiday meal at work for our department. Most  &lt;br&gt;people are very big on food so we get good food and wine in the middle  &lt;br&gt;of the day, which is nice, but I&amp;#39;m just not feeling social and cozy  &lt;br&gt;and that sort of thing. *fingers crossed for tomorrow, though* As part  &lt;br&gt;of our food fest, we do a survey and then read everyone&amp;#39;s answers and  &lt;br&gt;try to guess who said them. It&amp;#39;s like a fairly clean version of that  &lt;br&gt;board game .... Loaded Questions. This year&amp;#39;s questions:&lt;br&gt;Name one thing you miss about being a kid.&lt;br&gt;Name something not many people know about you.&lt;br&gt;What is your favorite place on earth?&lt;br&gt;If your house was on fire and you could only grab 3 things before  &lt;br&gt;leaving, what would they be?&lt;br&gt;If you could go on a road trip with someone (dead or alive) who would  &lt;br&gt;you chose and where would you go?&lt;br&gt;You wouldn&amp;#39;t be caught dead being seen where? (note: obviously  &lt;br&gt;copywriters aren&amp;#39;t in our dept.)&lt;br&gt;If you were given $1 Million and you have to spend it in one day and  &lt;br&gt;cannot buy any real estate, any kind of boat or vehicle, and cannot  &lt;br&gt;invest or put it in a bank ... how would you spend it?&lt;br&gt;What&amp;#39;s your favorite trend or fad of the last decade?&lt;br&gt;What do you hate most about the holidays?&lt;br&gt;Who is your ultimate celebrity crush?&lt;p&gt;Want to play along? Or have a good answer for me that you think will  &lt;br&gt;throw people off? LOL. If you know anything about the people I work  &lt;br&gt;with, you can probably guess who wrote the questions.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m really negative and a lot of it ends up showing here and through  &lt;br&gt;my posture ... and in my conversations, art, and motivation ... and in  &lt;br&gt;the way i fail to take care of myself. ... Okay, okay it shows up  &lt;br&gt;everywhere. Either way, I&amp;#39;m trying to shift my focus back to finding  &lt;br&gt;the positive sides of things. I was really good about it this morning  &lt;br&gt;and putting positive energy into the situations that were occurring  &lt;br&gt;really felt good and lasted longer than the situations themselves. So  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m making it a point to find at least 2 positive things a day for the  &lt;br&gt;next week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-7039643433330182551?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/7039643433330182551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=7039643433330182551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7039643433330182551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7039643433330182551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/thursday-1217.html' title='Thursday 12/17'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-131947680993393434</id><published>2009-12-16T17:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T17:28:29.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whew</title><content type='html'>That went very well. I&amp;#39;ll try not to get my hopes up too high and  &lt;br&gt;definitely will continue with apps, but it went better than i thought  &lt;br&gt;it would. I&amp;#39;ll know in a week if i need to book a flight for an in- &lt;br&gt;person interview.&lt;br&gt;I needed something positive.&lt;br&gt;I needed to calm down and focus and get my head on straight.&lt;br&gt;Now finishing work and making appointments with the ologist and iatrist.&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#39;m sorry i&amp;#39;m so chaotic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-131947680993393434?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/131947680993393434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=131947680993393434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/131947680993393434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/131947680993393434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/whew_16.html' title='whew'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2611743528155391009</id><published>2009-12-16T08:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T08:29:28.775-05:00</updated><title type='text'>coward</title><content type='html'>i'm not sure i have the strength to face anyone today. woke up sick to my stomach and i'm debating going to work. i barely slept ... worse than usual and i can't focus and haven't showered. at least i took care of the dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2611743528155391009?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2611743528155391009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2611743528155391009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2611743528155391009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2611743528155391009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/coward.html' title='coward'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4128447195571549533</id><published>2009-12-14T10:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T10:16:02.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>whew</title><content type='html'>Too close for comfort. I just literally ran through the building to  &lt;br&gt;get a box of shirts to someone. At least they got there. Whew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4128447195571549533?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4128447195571549533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4128447195571549533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4128447195571549533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4128447195571549533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/whew.html' title='whew'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2751504844740555209</id><published>2009-12-13T23:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T23:47:19.764-05:00</updated><title type='text'>12.13.09</title><content type='html'>I just fell into a hole. I don't know where it came from or where I'd be without it, but my mood, motivation, and total disposition just bottomed out. I've been taking allergy medicine this week to help with my sinus problems and it's had the fortunate side effect of basically being a sedative. I didn't get too angry or too worked up or even too anxious. I didn't melt down into tears more than three times this week at work. I was tired and quiet and withdrawn, but sometimes (especially when it comes with lessened sinus problems) it's really how I prefer to be. I wore half sleeves to the christmas party last night and even though i had so much makeup on over my scars, it was nice to not have all the extra layers of clothing. My moods are becoming more polarized and more difficult for me to predict. It's making work really tough. I took on a different account recently and i love working on it. I enjoy the client and the jobs. I get a small bit of satisfaction knowing that if she had a chance, my boss probably wouldn't have given it to me. Nothing's fucked up on it yet ... fingers crossed. Lately my desire to prove to myself that I can handle it among my other clients really has me pushing myself to work longer hours and work harder during those hours. I'm a little burnt out in all directions and I'm not really sure how to keep going. I need to bribe myself somehow or maybe just shut the fuck up and keep on pushing so I don't lose momentum and fall apart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2751504844740555209?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2751504844740555209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2751504844740555209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2751504844740555209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2751504844740555209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/121309.html' title='12.13.09'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3759363440108082708</id><published>2009-12-11T16:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T16:52:42.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>office party</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SyK_KuYgKYI/AAAAAAAABxU/Ugm7yL7yNEI/s1600-h/Picture+7-762307.png"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SyK_KuYgKYI/AAAAAAAABxU/Ugm7yL7yNEI/s320/Picture+7-762307.png"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414099893023156610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It&amp;#39;s supposed to be about 50 degrees and rainy tomorrow during the  &lt;br&gt;office xmas party. I&amp;#39;m currently playing the &amp;quot;what the heck am i going  &lt;br&gt;to wear&amp;quot; game. Why couldn&amp;#39;t we have this party after the next paycheck?&lt;br&gt;It&amp;#39;s about 40 degrees right now and getting dark already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3759363440108082708?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3759363440108082708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3759363440108082708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3759363440108082708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3759363440108082708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/office-party.html' title='office party'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SyK_KuYgKYI/AAAAAAAABxU/Ugm7yL7yNEI/s72-c/Picture+7-762307.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2459099784489364428</id><published>2009-12-06T15:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T15:50:59.879-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't know if the problem is with my sewing machine or my use of it, but it's not working correctly and until I have the patience to figure it out and/or the money to get it fixed I'm just going to have to not use it. I'm really upset about it and almost chucked it out the window when it fucked up the project I was just working on. SO SO ANGRY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2459099784489364428?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2459099784489364428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2459099784489364428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2459099784489364428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2459099784489364428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-dont-know-if-problem-is-with-my.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2953320077767409494</id><published>2009-12-04T00:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T01:00:11.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i really will go back to that food/shopping post soon, but i need to write now to stay even and calm. I feel really lonely. But at the same time, I feel so irritable and agitated and gross that I would rather stay away from everyone than risk making anything awful or worse. For several months I've been able to at least be a little prepared for my moods and how they'll oscillate based on how my hormones are fluctuating, but this month things are all off kilter and out of sync. Even when I'm sleeping I never feel rested and it's starting to add up. My anxiety is so bad. I've had to skip going into stores and I've had to change plans to avoid feeling worse. I'm not even taking care of basic things like showering and it only bothers me because at some point, I'll notice that my hair looks dirty and messy and then I'll slide a little further down. I'm mad at myself for being so down and so negative and for crying any time I stop being completely and totally mentally engrossed in something. I want to feel better. I want to be positive. I want to be different. I got an account at work sort of by accident. It's one i've wanted to work on for awhile but it's almost overwhelming and I want it to go right and i want to handle it so badly but i'm afraid i'm going to screw up a little teenie tiny detail. And then it'll get taken away. It wouldn't be the fist that's been taken away from me. I thought about taking a sick day earlier this week to sort of get my head on straight, but all I could think about was the work that would pile up while I was gone and the possibility that i could use those later on to visit people who don't live here. I started chipping away at a little debt this month. Which felt good. It also needed to be done so they'd stop calling me at least for a bit. It's a really small payment, but it's a step in the right direction. I've managed to finish the last two pay periods in the positive and that's a huge deal compared to where we were. It's funny how, when you try not to think about something, it's everywhere. I know I know I know. I shouldn't even have anything to say about it but it's shaken me to the core. It's messed with my head and poured salt in my sugar and all of those stupid cliche phrases. But i'm too scared to bring it up. So I'll continue to sob by myself and in bathrooms at work until i can get some backbone and face it head on like a normal person. im cared of what it migh mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2953320077767409494?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2953320077767409494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2953320077767409494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2953320077767409494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2953320077767409494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-really-will-go-back-to-that.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-9019313556928224080</id><published>2009-12-02T18:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T18:21:22.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To be continued later ... food post ....</title><content type='html'>This post was inspired by Loaf's post&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://10footpoet.com/2009/12/02/lesbian-food-storage/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. (Most of the things she writes makes me want to write more often and more articulately. Definitely on my daily reading list.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I am, back in Tallahassee, with the dog who needs my attention and care and all I want to do is be completely selfish and cry until I fall asleep for 18 years until I feel not depressed. After trying to eat whatever was in the house for a day after my epic drive back from CT, I decided I did actually need to go the grocery store. It's one of those times when I need basically everything ... eggs, pasta, even olive oil. I didn't even have what I needed to make my go-to Peanut Butter Pasta! The grocery store is a HUGE source of stress for me. Lots of people? Check. Food? Check. Money? Check. Three huge sources of stress inconveniently packaged in a large building complete with freezing temperatures and weirdoes. Last night it even included wind, pouring rain, and cold. I find being organized and on task completely necessary to handle food shopping by myself without a panic attack.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-9019313556928224080?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/9019313556928224080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=9019313556928224080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/9019313556928224080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/9019313556928224080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/12/to-be-continued-later-food-post.html' title='To be continued later ... food post ....'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5214581903282077289</id><published>2009-11-30T14:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T14:57:12.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I was going to wait to add pictures, but</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to say that Thanksgiving was amazing and I&amp;#39;m so in love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5214581903282077289?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5214581903282077289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5214581903282077289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5214581903282077289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5214581903282077289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-was-going-to-wait-to-add-pictures-but.html' title='I was going to wait to add pictures, but'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8908532880952222339</id><published>2009-11-23T16:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T16:34:43.783-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tears</title><content type='html'>I hate crying at work.&lt;br&gt;1. Men kissing men on TV isn&amp;#39;t any less appropriate than a man kissing  &lt;br&gt;a woman and you seriously disgust me by thinking so.&lt;br&gt;2. Stop pawning your work off on me.&lt;br&gt;3. I need a break. I&amp;#39;m afraid this break won&amp;#39;t feel like a break.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8908532880952222339?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8908532880952222339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8908532880952222339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8908532880952222339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8908532880952222339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/tears.html' title='tears'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5494985570049294558</id><published>2009-11-23T12:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T12:22:44.239-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kind of upset</title><content type='html'>To be fair, I woke up in a crappy mood today. The dry-cleaner that i  &lt;br&gt;live behind decided I should wake up several times this morning to  &lt;br&gt;their banging and clanging and malodorous doings. Before I attempted  &lt;br&gt;to sleep last night my computer and printer conspired their way into a  &lt;br&gt;complete and utter lock down.   I&amp;#39;m on the tail end of a period of  &lt;br&gt;REALLY intense moods and shifts. No middle ground here, it&amp;#39;s either  &lt;br&gt;super happy and active or crying myself to sleep. I&amp;#39;ve been self  &lt;br&gt;medicating in a variety of ways to keep an anchor to middle ground and  &lt;br&gt;to function through the work day and through conference calls and  &lt;br&gt;group lunches. I have to enter all my time by the end of tomorrow. I  &lt;br&gt;have a stack of files that need spec sheets and estimates. I have  &lt;br&gt;projects that need to be pushed forward this week to stay on schedule.  &lt;br&gt;And yet, I&amp;#39;m sidelined by the ice being completely melted and ruining  &lt;br&gt;a tasty lemonade that i really wanted to drink. I&amp;#39;m upset about other  &lt;br&gt;things and really that&amp;#39;s just the straw that knocked this camel out.  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve been on a serious attempt to like the way that I look even if it  &lt;br&gt;means putting more time and energy into getting dressed, which has led  &lt;br&gt;to me paying attention to what i wear and how it fits. Realistically,  &lt;br&gt;most of my clothes are too big. Despite knowing how, I haven&amp;#39;t put the  &lt;br&gt;time and energy into the (mostly) small alterations that make my  &lt;br&gt;clothes fit my body. I buy bigger shirts because I have a long torso  &lt;br&gt;and very long arms attached to broad shoulders. The plan is often to  &lt;br&gt;take in the body of the shirt to tailor it to a more feminine, small- &lt;br&gt;breasted form and take in the armpits so they don&amp;#39;t start below my  &lt;br&gt;breasts as is so common. Really what has happened is that 90% of my  &lt;br&gt;shirts that I&amp;#39;m comfortable wearing don&amp;#39;t really show my figure, they  &lt;br&gt;basically just cover as much skin as possible. In a fit of manic need  &lt;br&gt;for organization and breathing room (seriously, i felt like I couldn&amp;#39;t  &lt;br&gt;breathe because there were too many piles in the room.) I organized  &lt;br&gt;the small pile of clothes that I wear most often into and onto the  &lt;br&gt;most easily accessible shelves. I sorted them into piles: pants, tanks  &lt;br&gt;and ribbed tanks, and shirts. The jackets and dress should be hung up,  &lt;br&gt;but they&amp;#39;re on a chair for now. The shirts became three piles: wear if  &lt;br&gt;and only if jackets are available, would like to wear these but  &lt;br&gt;probably wont, commonly worn. There were only two or three shirts in  &lt;br&gt;the piles, but whatever. It&amp;#39;s a big deal for me to fold, sort, and put  &lt;br&gt;away clothes or messes of any kind. Overall, I don&amp;#39;t wear most of the  &lt;br&gt;clothes I own because most are from college or pre college years (worn  &lt;br&gt;out and wrong sizes), a lot don&amp;#39;t cover what I feel like needs to be  &lt;br&gt;covered, and some are too dressy for my mostly-casual workplace. In  &lt;br&gt;short, I&amp;#39;d love to swap them or just recycle them. I feel like I wear  &lt;br&gt;the same, sloppy outfits most of the time. I have a couple cute things  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;ve been able to snag off of clearance racks and discount stores but  &lt;br&gt;I tend to shop when i&amp;quot;m feeling good and positive and this usually  &lt;br&gt;results in a I&amp;#39;ll just wear short sleeves and not care attitude.  &lt;br&gt;Which, in turn, means I buy short-sleeved things and then only wear  &lt;br&gt;them with over-shirts or jackets and don&amp;#39;t feel cute and get  &lt;br&gt;overheated. A quick trip around that circle and it&amp;#39;s easy for me to  &lt;br&gt;decide that it&amp;#39;s not only pointless to shop, but also pointless to try  &lt;br&gt;to look cute or like the way I look. Fun, I assure you. I&amp;#39;ve been  &lt;br&gt;avoiding buying new things until the old versions tear, fall apart, or  &lt;br&gt;get eaten by the dog. Even that last one hasn&amp;#39;t forced me to replace  &lt;br&gt;my flip flops yet though. I&amp;#39;ve been looking for shoes but trying to  &lt;br&gt;spend not so much on them. That usually results in cheap shoes that  &lt;br&gt;don&amp;#39;t last long and don&amp;#39;t fit as well as they could. I have long,  &lt;br&gt;narrow feet and it&amp;#39;s difficult to fit them and even harder to do so  &lt;br&gt;for little money. I&amp;#39;ve looked for shoes the past three weekends and  &lt;br&gt;have yet to find shoes that I like the price of and that fit. I&amp;#39;m  &lt;br&gt;heading north in about a day and a half now and I really wanted at  &lt;br&gt;least one pair of casual, close-toed shoes that don&amp;#39;t stink and  &lt;br&gt;haven&amp;#39;t been eaten by the dog. I found 4 possibilities at walmart ...  &lt;br&gt;of all places ... but didn&amp;#39;t buy them because I had plenty of other  &lt;br&gt;things I wanted to buy and now I&amp;#39;m frustrated. When I get overwhelmed,  &lt;br&gt;I tend to want to throw what&amp;#39;s overwhelming me and everything related  &lt;br&gt;to it to the side and just change focus for a bit. I would argue that  &lt;br&gt;it works as a stress management tactic when you&amp;#39;re not pressed for  &lt;br&gt;time. It&amp;#39;s good to just set things aside sometimes and say &amp;quot;I won&amp;#39;t  &lt;br&gt;think or stress about this right now&amp;quot;, but it doesn&amp;#39;t work when you  &lt;br&gt;haven&amp;#39;t done that for so long that you&amp;#39;re down to VERY little time.  &lt;br&gt;I&amp;#39;m stressed out and worried about my trip and consequently want to  &lt;br&gt;put everything even closely related to it on hold and just go kill  &lt;br&gt;some time at lunch instead of going home to pack or clean the car or  &lt;br&gt;something like that. I haven&amp;#39;t been sleeping well. I actually plan to  &lt;br&gt;get some sleeping meds to help with sleeping once I get up there  &lt;br&gt;because it was really difficult last time. I&amp;#39;ve grown unaccustomed to  &lt;br&gt;sleeping with the sounds of someone else and I rarely sleep well in a  &lt;br&gt;new place, especially one that stays really light at night. So I could  &lt;br&gt;stay up late tonight to get things done and take my lunch time today  &lt;br&gt;to actually relax. But it just seems like a bad idea. I had a silly  &lt;br&gt;idea that I would make one final try to find shoes and a coat. What a  &lt;br&gt;stupid idea that would be.&lt;p&gt;Almost an hour later I&amp;#39;m even more frustrated and even more stressed.  &lt;br&gt;Shit. All I want to do now is overeat and then take a nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5494985570049294558?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5494985570049294558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5494985570049294558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5494985570049294558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5494985570049294558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/kind-of-upset.html' title='kind of upset'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3238093944729335355</id><published>2009-11-19T12:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T12:20:09.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>work overload by the numbers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SwV-ST3R5TI/AAAAAAAABxI/TzScFcCz0IE/s1600/Picture+38-709539.png"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SwV-ST3R5TI/AAAAAAAABxI/TzScFcCz0IE/s320/Picture+38-709539.png"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405865780763026738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;23 active folders in my office.&lt;br&gt;10 sticky-notes on my monitor that need attention today.&lt;br&gt;8 estimates that need to be completed by tomorrow afternoon.&lt;br&gt;1 hour that I&amp;#39;ll be taking as a lunch break to try to regain my focus  &lt;br&gt;and clear my head.&lt;br&gt;0 motivation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3238093944729335355?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3238093944729335355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3238093944729335355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3238093944729335355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3238093944729335355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/work-overload-by-numbers.html' title='work overload by the numbers'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SwV-ST3R5TI/AAAAAAAABxI/TzScFcCz0IE/s72-c/Picture+38-709539.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6624965332581641883</id><published>2009-11-19T10:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T10:33:00.636-05:00</updated><title type='text'>pants</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m wearing new pants today and I think they need to go back. Super  &lt;br&gt;disappointing.&lt;br&gt;That is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6624965332581641883?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6624965332581641883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6624965332581641883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6624965332581641883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6624965332581641883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/pants.html' title='pants'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5622952240011677655</id><published>2009-11-18T00:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T01:15:24.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I dont really know what to do with myself. I started cutting a couple days ago. I ate some rice tonight and it was the first solid food i'd had in like 44 hours. I'm really intensly tired of disappointing the people around me so I couldn't even figure out how to communicate to anyone that i was feeling that bad or was getting close to that which i'm sure has how hurt me even more. I don't know whether to give up and just admit defeat and go live away from people and learn to program so i don't have any human interaction or if i should try to handle this and do something with it. I'm completely overwhelmed. I get like maybe a week each month where i can keep my head above water and it's to the point where i can't even navigate that. i've blamed it on alot of things and i'm sure situational things have contributed to it but the root of it is just me. That's what wrong with me -- i'm me. I drank 2 or 3 bottles of wine and  abottle of vodka by myself last week so there's another great path i'm headed down. I recognize that I shouldn't expect people to be able to be there for me regardless of everything else. So i've stopped trying to lean on anyone too much. Eaerlier i was just putting myhead down at work to keep from passing out. I try to sleep but ti doesn't do much anymore. I'm a wreck. A big fat train wreck and I'm destroying everything in my path. I think should jump out of the way now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5622952240011677655?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5622952240011677655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5622952240011677655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5622952240011677655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5622952240011677655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-dont-really-know-what-to-do-with.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-31796212632589217</id><published>2009-11-17T17:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T17:38:22.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>aedm</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SwMl3vrKh6I/AAAAAAAABxA/sk1VunZ_YxA/s1600/Picture+37-702423.png"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SwMl3vrKh6I/AAAAAAAABxA/sk1VunZ_YxA/s320/Picture+37-702423.png"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405205617395271586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-31796212632589217?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/31796212632589217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=31796212632589217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/31796212632589217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/31796212632589217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/aedm.html' title='aedm'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SwMl3vrKh6I/AAAAAAAABxA/sk1VunZ_YxA/s72-c/Picture+37-702423.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8382691329087725997</id><published>2009-11-17T12:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T12:13:34.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>boo.</title><content type='html'>This is stupid. I&amp;#39;m being stupid about this, also. Argh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8382691329087725997?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8382691329087725997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8382691329087725997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8382691329087725997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8382691329087725997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/boo.html' title='boo.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-435011418707928407</id><published>2009-11-13T17:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T17:05:54.731-05:00</updated><title type='text'>rough.</title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m feeling rough. Too much is running through my head for me to put  &lt;br&gt;together my thoughts about TWLOHA day or the other things circling my  &lt;br&gt;brain. Hopefully some dinner, a shower, and a little time with the dog  &lt;br&gt;can help me get back to a thinking place. He peed in the bedroom this  &lt;br&gt;morning. I just don&amp;#39;t have it in me to continue to be mad at him right  &lt;br&gt;now.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;TMI: I really would go back on my anxiety meds just to stop sweating  &lt;br&gt;so much. Gross.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-435011418707928407?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/435011418707928407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=435011418707928407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/435011418707928407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/435011418707928407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/rough.html' title='rough.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-1569900777068259506</id><published>2009-11-11T19:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T20:01:42.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love that when i'm intoxicated I will eat whatever I want to eat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-1569900777068259506?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/1569900777068259506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=1569900777068259506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1569900777068259506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/1569900777068259506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-love-that-when-im-intoxicated-i-will.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4610582433033456216</id><published>2009-11-09T15:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T15:49:38.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SviAYiblD9I/AAAAAAAABw4/Prq8geqDTNU/s1600-h/jenga_tower_as_software_planning_metaphor-778227.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SviAYiblD9I/AAAAAAAABw4/Prq8geqDTNU/s320/jenga_tower_as_software_planning_metaphor-778227.jpg"  border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402208912078606290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I felt really good at lunch. I did something and it actually made me  &lt;br&gt;happy. And unfortunately, like a jenga tower, it takes something so  &lt;br&gt;small to send me crashing back to the bottom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4610582433033456216?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4610582433033456216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4610582433033456216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4610582433033456216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4610582433033456216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/fall.html' title='fall'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SviAYiblD9I/AAAAAAAABw4/Prq8geqDTNU/s72-c/jenga_tower_as_software_planning_metaphor-778227.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6016761544253712690</id><published>2009-11-08T14:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T22:24:34.652-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sick cycle carousel</title><content type='html'>I'm not looking forward to anything and it's becoming this crushing reality that's sitting heavy on my chest. Everything's too up in the air and too indefinite. I thought i woke up okay today ... less depressed and less fatalistic, but after a little while it hit me out of no where. I'm avoiding a bunch of things lately. Part of that is out of safety concerns, but part of it is fear and insecurity. I'm avoiding mirrors and being alone and telling my roommate how obnoxious she is and avoiding talking to her about how she's overstepping bounds with the animals (who brings someone else's OUTDOOR cat inside!?!?!). I'm avoiding dealing with my dad because I know i'm not on steady enough ground to not let it blow up. I'm avoiding spending time alone because I don't feel like I'm level enough to deal with the mess that surfaces. I'm avoiding sewing projects because I'm afraid I'm going to fail. I'm avoiding self injury, but I think that's okay for a little while. I avoid showering sometimes because I don't want to see myself withotu clothes. I'm avoiding songs and memories and wishing and hoping. I've worked myself into this horrible little cycle. What do I do? I cry a lot. I stare into space. I forget things. I fall apart. I complain and I whine. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there's some really integral piece of the puzzle that I'm missing. Maybe that's why there are so many thing that happen in relationships that I just don't get. Maybe I'm too needy or not clear enough about what i need or maybe i'm just not right in the head.&lt;br /&gt;I just finished cleaning the apartment (except for the bathroom) and I was going to get dressed in clothes that are appropriate to leave the house and treat myself to a half price slush at sonic before going to the store, but I started thinking and got so upset that I've been crying for 20 minutes and feel like something ripped every ounce of life and energy out of me.&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in a stupid frame of mind and I don't know what to do except drink until I get tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6016761544253712690?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6016761544253712690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6016761544253712690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6016761544253712690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6016761544253712690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/sick-cycle-carousel.html' title='sick cycle carousel'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8509662007195392778</id><published>2009-11-07T11:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T11:45:44.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We just have different mindsets about this.&lt;br /&gt;You put me off for the times when you're not busy. I make you a part of the things that make me busy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8509662007195392778?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8509662007195392778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8509662007195392778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8509662007195392778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8509662007195392778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/we-just-have-different-mindsets-about.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3406211268772423806</id><published>2009-11-06T20:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T20:38:07.958-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am falling apart. I have been trying very very hard to just keep pushing through all of this but i am fucking running out of steam. I know what i could do to calm myself and probably get me through at least a few days in a calmer state, but i want new clothes and as stupid and as vain as that is, maybe it's enough. I kinda want to know that the people i'd fight for, would fight for me. something has to change or i' know i'll end up back in the hospital.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3406211268772423806?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3406211268772423806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3406211268772423806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3406211268772423806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3406211268772423806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-am-falling-apart.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-834442552621210918</id><published>2009-11-06T11:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T11:53:14.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tired.</title><content type='html'>&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" face="'DEAD SECRETARY'" size="7"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 36px;"&gt;&lt;font class="Apple-style-span" color="#ACACAC"&gt;Can i go back to bed yet?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-834442552621210918?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/834442552621210918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=834442552621210918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/834442552621210918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/834442552621210918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/tired.html' title='tired.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4431006491275837626</id><published>2009-11-05T22:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T22:53:37.756-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hate'/><title type='text'>"... that he don't wanna clean up ... "</title><content type='html'>I hate this stupid dog and this stupid distance. I hate the weather and myself and softball. I hate self expression and clothes and weight and number. I hate me and i hate that it's never worked. I'm a mess...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4431006491275837626?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4431006491275837626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4431006491275837626' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4431006491275837626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4431006491275837626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/that-he-dont-wanna-clean-up.html' title='&quot;... that he don&apos;t wanna clean up ... &quot;'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-2615468742010320327</id><published>2009-11-04T17:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T17:38:49.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>maybe</title><content type='html'>Maybe the whole issue is that I just want too much.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I want simple things, but maybe they're not simple for other people. Maybe what I think of as common courtesy and simple considerations are actually huge, unfathomably frightening obstacles for the people that I interact with.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe I was right all along and it is always me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is depressing. After I leave work, I'm going to go gather ingredients to make curry and daydream about teaching and living in a place where wearing beautiful things like&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=17160798"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;wouldn't be silly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-2615468742010320327?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/2615468742010320327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=2615468742010320327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2615468742010320327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/2615468742010320327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/maybe.html' title='maybe'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-3027569126661248094</id><published>2009-11-03T20:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T20:56:21.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>To prove that we're domestic partners for insurance would require documentation of at least 6 different things (not of all which are needed for marriage). If the state acknowledged our relationship or even acknowledged domestic partnership, we'd only have to submit one document.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have to acknowledge that they are not discriminating on any basis besides legal marriage and they're obviously not excluding anyone based on that. I understand the need to document it, but it's not the same as for married couples. And if one more person writes about how easy it is to get a marriage license, I might puke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-3027569126661248094?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/3027569126661248094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=3027569126661248094' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3027569126661248094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/3027569126661248094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-prove-that-were-domestic-partners.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5364933072934867942</id><published>2009-11-03T17:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T17:06:54.359-05:00</updated><title type='text'>11.3.09</title><content type='html'>i have barely slept for several days and today it&amp;#39;s catching up with  &lt;br&gt;me. I think i should do nothing but shower and sleep when i get home.  &lt;br&gt;Let the dog out to pee, then shower, and try desperately to sleep  &lt;br&gt;before everything caves in on itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5364933072934867942?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5364933072934867942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5364933072934867942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5364933072934867942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5364933072934867942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/11309.html' title='11.3.09'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6562566657632269275</id><published>2009-11-03T07:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T07:47:53.826-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whine'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm really doing a poor job of taking care of myself. This time change sucks. I've been up since the sun came screaming into my windows. I should be getting ready for work but that involves getting into the shower and the roommate is continuing her bathroom domination. So, here I am writing superficial entries and wishing I was asleep. Fun? Not so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6562566657632269275?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6562566657632269275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6562566657632269275' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6562566657632269275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6562566657632269275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/im-really-doing-poor-job-of-taking-care.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-102891228146212855</id><published>2009-11-02T08:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T08:19:45.002-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whine'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I find myself feeling very isolated. I feel like I'm saying what I need to say but either the people I'm talking to aren't hearing me or they're not feeling the weight of the words in the same way. I feel like I've let so much build up and am continuing to that I could scream for hours on end and feel no relief. At the same time, I don't want to reach out to anyone new. I don't want to or don't have the energy to try to look for and remake, repair, or create new connections with someone else. I have more errands to do than time to do them in today. Why don't businesses stay open later!?!?! I'm sorry if I don't want to try to fit them all into my lunch but that short break is sort of necessary to my ability to feed myself and complete the workday without tears. Maybe I'm just not saying it. Maybe it's all some grand delusion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-102891228146212855?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/102891228146212855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=102891228146212855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/102891228146212855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/102891228146212855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-find-myself-feeling-very-isolated.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-7622558228092206515</id><published>2009-10-30T13:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T14:00:02.117-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I&amp;#39;m really upset and, on top of that, I&amp;#39;m really irritable. I&amp;#39;m  &lt;br&gt;bitter, angry, irrational, and hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-7622558228092206515?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/7622558228092206515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=7622558228092206515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7622558228092206515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7622558228092206515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-really-upset-and-on-top-of-that-i.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-6841892046997414410</id><published>2009-10-29T00:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T01:05:09.987-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='need a drink'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustration'/><title type='text'>"she wishes she was ... and she'd never heard of ..."</title><content type='html'>I can't even get the words out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What a skeletal wreck of a man this is&lt;br /&gt;Translucent flesh and feeble bones&lt;br /&gt;The kind of temple where the whores and villains try to tempt the holistic tones&lt;br /&gt;Running rampant with free thought to free form the free and clear&lt;br /&gt;And the matters at hand are shelled out like lint at a laundromat to sift and focus on the bigger, better, NOW&lt;br /&gt;We all have a little sin that needs venting, virtues for the renting and laws and systems and stems ripped from the branches of office do you know what your post entails?&lt;br /&gt;Do you serve a purpose or purposely serve?&lt;br /&gt;Wind down inside your atavistic allure, the value of a summer spent and a winter earned&lt;br /&gt;For the rest of us there is always sunday&lt;br /&gt;The day of the week that reeks of rest but all we do is catch our breath so we can wade naked into the bloody pool and place our hand on the big black book&lt;br /&gt;To watch the knives zigzag between our aching fingers&lt;br /&gt;A vacation is a countdown &lt;br /&gt;T minus your life and counting &lt;br /&gt;Time to drag your tongue across the sugar cube and hope you get a taste&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR? (*background*WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?) SHUT UP!&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on but let's move on shall we?&lt;br /&gt;Say, you're me and I'm you and they all watch the things we do and like a smack of spite they threw me down the stairs&lt;br /&gt;haven't felt like this in years&lt;br /&gt;the great magnet of malicious magnanimous refuse&lt;br /&gt;Let me go and plunge me into the dead spot again&lt;br /&gt;That's where you go when there's no one else around it's just you and there was never anyone to begin with now was there?&lt;br /&gt;Sanctimonious pretentious dastardly bastards with their thumb on the pulse and a finger on the trigger &lt;br /&gt;CLASSIFIED MY ASS THAT'S A FUCKING SECRET AND YOU KNOW IT! &lt;br /&gt;Government is another way to say better, than, you!&lt;br /&gt;It's like ice but no pick, a murder charge that won't stick, its like a whole other world where you can smell the food &lt;br /&gt;But you can't touch the silverware &lt;br /&gt;*laughs* What luck! &lt;br /&gt;Fascism you can vote for&lt;br /&gt;*snorts* Isn't that sweet&lt;br /&gt;And were all gonna die someday 'cause that's the american way and I've drunk too much and said too little when you're gaffer taped in the middle say a prayer save face get yourself together and (*sung in the background* SEE WHAT'S HAPPENING!) SHUT UP! (*background* FUCK YOU!) FUCK YOU!&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I could go on and on but its time to move on so&lt;br /&gt;Remember, you're a wreck an accident &lt;br /&gt;Forget the freak you're just nature&lt;br /&gt;Keep the gun oiled and the temple clean &lt;br /&gt;Shit, snort and blaspheme let the heads cool and the engine run because in the end everything we do, is just everything we've done."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stone Sour, Omega&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-6841892046997414410?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/6841892046997414410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=6841892046997414410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6841892046997414410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/6841892046997414410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/she-wishes-she-was-and-shed-never-heard.html' title='&quot;she wishes she was ... and she&apos;d never heard of ...&quot;'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-5343447313161620336</id><published>2009-10-24T18:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T19:50:20.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's really difficult to feel that, if we were married, we would be urged to push through troubled times but, since we're not that we're urged to move on instead. Don't tell me time and time again that things aren't always easy and the grass isn't always greener and shit like that if you're going to tell me that things can't be fixed and I should look somewhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I'm really not a fan of the US Postal Service right now. I am also very, very tired of crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-5343447313161620336?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/5343447313161620336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=5343447313161620336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5343447313161620336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/5343447313161620336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-really-difficult-to-feel-that-if-we.html' title=''/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8260965322261651378</id><published>2009-10-20T20:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:27:48.997-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whine'/><title type='text'>yet another negative post. sorry.</title><content type='html'>I don't want to be here.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what happened to my brain in the last hour or so, maybe it's the lack of sleep. I'm sliding away from happy or even reasonably sad at such a rate that I'm scared. I feel alone, frightened, disheartened and I'm nearing incapacitated. Where did my wonderful vacation go? Where did that sense of safe, calm, and stable go? How did it go so quickly?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unexpected money problems feel like nothing compared to the fights with my parents. My dad, in particular, was downright nasty. I wouldn't even be specific with my mother about what he said but for a summary threats, insults to nearly every facet of my self and my life, and rejection from their home rank among the hardest to swallow. I'm more angry with myself for letting them into my world and for letting them and him influence what i think about what's going on around me, than anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the moment I wasn't too upset about our plans of so many things to do getting squashed, but now, 1200+ miles away, I'm afraid it wasn't what was wanted or that someone's upset about it now. I've fallen through any self-assured thoughts tonight and have landed squarely on negative, ridiculously insecure, and please-tell-me-something-that-lets-me-know-everyone-else-is-wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time, I'm going to calm down, write a list of at least 5 positive things, and try to wrangle the energy for some more self-care (most likely involving food and shower).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8260965322261651378?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8260965322261651378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8260965322261651378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8260965322261651378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8260965322261651378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/yet-another-negative-post-sorry.html' title='yet another negative post. sorry.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-7112579060608705367</id><published>2009-10-14T12:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T12:21:35.645-04:00</updated><title type='text'>10.14.09</title><content type='html'>The lack of sleep, overabundance of anxiety, and what might be some  &lt;br&gt;sinus trouble has left me completely exhausted. I have two post-it  &lt;br&gt;notes worth of things to do outside of work today and all I can think  &lt;br&gt;about it closing my eyes for a few minutes. I&amp;#39;ll be at work at 6am  &lt;br&gt;tomorrow and then traveling until at least midnight. I&amp;#39;m stressed out  &lt;br&gt;about traveling, but very, very, very super grateful for Rachel&amp;#39;s mp3  &lt;br&gt;player. I&amp;#39;ll try to create safe space for myself within the headphones  &lt;br&gt;so I don&amp;#39;t worry so much about everything around me and how I relate  &lt;br&gt;to it. Still don&amp;#39;t have a way to weigh the suitcases and I&amp;#39;m pretty  &lt;br&gt;worried that they&amp;#39;ll be over the weight limit. Maybe someone has a  &lt;br&gt;bathroom scale I can borrow? It would be much easier to feel cute and  &lt;br&gt;confident if I didn&amp;#39;t sweat so badly. It&amp;#39;s one of the main reasons I  &lt;br&gt;only wear very dark or very light colors on top ... hides it to some  &lt;br&gt;extent. It&amp;#39;s super embarrassing and makes me feel dirty, gross, and  &lt;br&gt;unattractive. Feeling cuter and more confident would, in turn, make it  &lt;br&gt;easier to pack for this trip. Although, given the weather predictions,  &lt;br&gt;I don&amp;#39;t have many choices.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;On a fairly random side note, did you know that some people believe  &lt;br&gt;that a couple&amp;#39;s first dance at their wedding is symbolic of their sex  &lt;br&gt;life? Does that mean we should dance with lots of people and switch up  &lt;br&gt;the styles? anyways ...&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;I had more to say but I work came across my desk again and I had to  &lt;br&gt;work and wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-7112579060608705367?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/7112579060608705367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=7112579060608705367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7112579060608705367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/7112579060608705367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/101409.html' title='10.14.09'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-4619497137053755350</id><published>2009-10-12T22:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T01:11:00.964-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm struggling and I need to be honest about it.</title><content type='html'>Fear and fear-like anxieties are a big percentage of what I feel every day. I have read enough to understand the basics of the evolutionary benefits of fear and anxieties. However, mine now interrupt and steer parts of my life. When I try to think of them from other people's perspectives, I can recognize that some of them seem fairly absurd. It's hard for me to see where they come from often, because the immediate fear isn't what triggers the fear in me but rather what the realization of that fear would mean to myself and others. (I'm not sure that makes much sense) One of the biggest fears that I'm dealing with currently ... okay it's huge and it has been messing with my head for awhile and I'm not sure what to do with it ... I'm TERRIFIED that people will know that I have gained weight and think that I'm fat. I don't understand it because I don't see anything inherently wrong with being overweight and I don't consciously associate it with negative consequences for anyone else. For myself, it's a different deal. I have baskets upon buckets upon cases of things that I think about myself if/when I put myself or think that someone else is putting me into that box. I'm close to being physically ill when I think about the possibility that I could get off of that plane and he could see me and think that. Eventhough i know it wouldn't matter to him and the way he feels about me. Even though I know he wouldn't say anything if he even thought that. I feel very similarly about losing weight and hurting myself.&lt;br /&gt;*** let's stop right here for a second ... anyone easily triggered? you're excused, no hard feelings. anyone squeamish? You may leave too. anyone hate to hear me drone on about anything else? Again, no ill wishes, you're excused. ..... Seriously though, if you're easily triggered, don't read this unless you're safe and yes, I'm putting that here for myself***&lt;br /&gt;I have trouble when it comes to both topics finding the point of "enough". It's rarely, if ever deep enough, enough blood, enough pain, enough hurt, enough pounds, enough inches, few enough calories ... Maybe it's related to not being good at being satisfied, maybe it's just not getting fulfilled by the methods that you're trying. I don't know but i &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do know&lt;/span&gt; it's dangerous. I ... i'm getting super insecure even writing about this ... I often feel the same way about my scars. I feel disappointed about some scars on my body because they're not enough. They don't show clearly enough or show enough of the drama/trauma that got them there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing this got interrupted for an hour or so. It needed to happen, but I've lost my momentum.&lt;br /&gt;The short of it: I'm worried and I don't feel like I'm as open about my concerns about myself as I could be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-4619497137053755350?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/4619497137053755350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=4619497137053755350' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4619497137053755350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/4619497137053755350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-struggling-and-i-need-to-be-honest.html' title='I&apos;m struggling and I need to be honest about it.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-725010667000961490</id><published>2009-10-11T14:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T14:14:32.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>time moves too slowly</title><content type='html'>I woke up tired, in a bad mood, and SERIOUSLY irritable. I'm in tears for no reason at all and I think I should just go back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a meltdown brewing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-725010667000961490?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/725010667000961490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=725010667000961490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/725010667000961490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/725010667000961490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/time-moves-too-slowly.html' title='time moves too slowly'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5625047018516658889.post-8342783093813241956</id><published>2009-10-09T17:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T17:11:34.395-04:00</updated><title type='text'>esh.</title><content type='html'>Called out on the weight-loss, the ring and some scars. Excuse me  &lt;br&gt;while I will the earth to open and swallow me whole.&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;This day needs to end promptly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5625047018516658889-8342783093813241956?l=fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/feeds/8342783093813241956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5625047018516658889&amp;postID=8342783093813241956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8342783093813241956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5625047018516658889/posts/default/8342783093813241956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fortheloveofjustice.blogspot.com/2009/10/esh.html' title='esh.'/><author><name>lovejustice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04546708864820606590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sFrQ7RMvcAc/SHzcQe_QrwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KgDrKcrKlEI/S220/love-hands.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
