Journal #12.5

Ok I know I wrote this morning when I first woke up but holy shit clarity hit me in the middle of class and I couldn't pay attention. 

I let my anger and junk get in the way of everything and jack everything up again. My venture towards spiritual awakening has been a very slow one. Look, I don't need to be anything including this dude's wife, let's get that settled. While I want to (very much so), it's not the end of the world. Next things next, NO ONE is getting hurt including me. I screwed up, that much is true, but I apologized and took him out for dinner and we were chill and laughing last night. I'm the only one losing my mind over fucking nothing. Again. For the millionth time. 

I'm giving into old habits: freaking out, getting anxious over perceived abandonment, self-inflicted punishment, basically being an emotional fucking wreck. I've gotta stop throwing this stupid fucking pity party and get the fuck up. I'm not going to give up. I'll actually die before that. And while I can't do much now, I can still do something. Like I've been listing and selling shit on Ebay. Is that a job? No. But I make enough money to treat the both of us to a round of soju every weekend. Can I drive? No. But my permit's still good so I can just go retake the test just to fail it. Does he want to marry me? Probably not. Is that going to stop me from getting the fuck out of this city and being happy? Also no. I'm gonna get the fuck out of here if it fucking kills me. 

I hate myself sometimes, but I hate the idea of quitting more.