It Wasn't All Bad
It really wasn't. Not even haf. I thought we were really going to be okay, if I could just hang on long enough.
God loves a tryer.
It really wasn't. Not even haf. I thought we were really going to be okay, if I could just hang on long enough.
Hey gang. Yes, that's right, I'm at it again. Blog is up and running, I've met up with one co-blogger of the three, and I've been to two shows already. Three, if you count the one in the hotel lobby. Read along if have the time, The Scope ECMA 2009 Blog.So. Who's in therapy? Me. Who's a bit fucked? Must be me. Yikes. For the past few years, I've been blogging when stuff is crappy. Not this time. I've got nothing. Half the time I'm beating myself up for being too self-indulgent, the other half of the time I'm congratulating myself for 'owning' the sadness, whatever that means. Funny thing is, after a few months of therapy, I am convinced that I actually understand the meaning of these bullshit therapy expressions. 'Ownership' of emotions, 'responsibility' for feeling a certain way. Jesus, I liked it better when feelings were something that I was in charge of. Isn't that what Dr. Phil says? We're all in charge of the way we feel? I used to think I was calling the shots. I also used to like Stu's mom's advice: get real, and get hard. Those are the bits of wisdom that got me through 2005-2008. Well, barely got me through... okay, I'm in one piece, anyway. Except my heart, which blew into so many popcorn pieces that I might as well use it for packing peanuts to send Jeff's stuff back to him.