uncomfortable...

It's a pretty terrible feeling when you'd do anything to get out of your own skin.

Uncomfortable.

Awkward and uncomfortable.

The only thing that's been keeping me from falling apart today is that my new fosters need me. That and forcing myself to keep moving, despite the pain that's been nagging at me since last night.

I'm so tired. I'm so tired of constantly fighting the thoughts and feelings that tear at my insides. No matter what drugs I take, no matter how many counselors I talk to, things never seem to get better. I try and I try and I always find myself back at square one.

I feel as though there is no one to talk to. I know I have friends and family who will listen, but I worry that I'm a bother. I just say the same things over and over again -- mainly because the fight has never ended. It's the same fight with the same demons, and nothing ever seems to change.

People tell me that I've changed. That I'm doing better. Perhaps because I'm in the middle of it all, I don't see the change.

want...

There is nothing I want more than to put on comfy sweats, eat half (or more) of a carton of chocolate ice cream, and sing with Katy Perry as loud as I possibly can. Because days like these I want to drive away, just pack my bags and watch all of those shadows fade.

I'm so tired -- and I don't have any chocolate ice cream because I exercised self-control at the grocery store and only bought the things that I really need.

Not sure what's wrong with me today. It's like being really hungry, so hungry you're empty inside and your stomach is tied up in knots.

Although I'm not physically hungry -- I found these preservative free granola bars at the grocery store which I keep in my pockets and eat between classes. I don't get a break at all on MWF, so I snag a snack when I can. Let me tell you, those granola bars are yummy, yummy. Especially the chocolate-dipped coconut bars. And the peanut butter chip bars. Yummy.

2 hours until I can go home. Cannot wait.

uncomfortable...

In my personal opinion, one of the most uncomfortable and unsettling feelings in the world is the one that has been described as "butterflies in your stomach." This feeling is often paired with words like love, twitterpation, infatuation, crush, and others of the like. I, unlike many, disagree with these pairings. It's laced with too much fear and uncertainty. That and the image of little gem stone creatures flying inside me is quite horrible, particularly because their delicate, beautiful wings are probably being ruined by each tickling brush against my stomach walls, the fluttering flickers frantic -- trapped.

Trapped inside me like I myself am trapped by this feeling.

There is nothing lovely about this feeling. For me, it's a feeling of nervous energy, of anxiety. It lodges itself in the pit of my stomach and the center of my heart, causing tiny, continual disconcerting twists and turns. It's this weird combination, one that feels like warm water running through my body and dropping 100 feet on a roller coaster. But the water never turns off and the drop never ends. My whole self is stuck in this uncomfortably warm free-fall, and rather than my mind racing along, it's often blank.

An incredible sense of awareness comes from this. Awareness of the usual things I observe (almost everything) is replaced with awareness of what my body is doing -- awareness that my heart is beating, that my lungs are breathing, that blood is moving through me -- I'm aware of it because things aren't normal. They're irregular and strange and warm and jittery. Clumsy, too. Or clumsier. Extremely absent minded. Unable to speak clearly or think quickly. My mind is slowed down while the rest of me races, unchecked by thought of proper sequencing.