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It is so hard to be disappointed.
There is a plethora of things to disappoint us in this life- big and small.

I am disappointed my hair didn’t turn out quite like I wanted it today.

I’m also disappointed I’m not engaged.

I remember, about a year ago, maybe a little less.. I was sure I would be engaged by summer. I just knew that I would be. Imagine my disappointment, then, when mere months later that illusion was shattered. Everything changed, my fairy tale was torn apart.

I was hurt. I was devastated, and miserable, and sure I would never be happy again. Even now, I know I’m jaded, and a little bit ruined. But I am getting better. I am strong, and I know what I deserve, and I am working hard to understand- and be content with- the way things worked out. I know I am better off right now, and that I am where I am for a reason. It’s not hard to see the benefits that have come from this shattering experience.

Just knowing it’s right isn’t always enough, however. We have to hit that realization for ourselves, believe it’s right, know without a shadow of a doubt that we are where we belong. And that is a hard truth to face.

Getting your hopes up for the way you think things ought to be is a dangerous road to travel. More often than not, you will be disappointed. But sometimes…

Sometimes, you will have wonderful people there to help carry you when your legs get weak. My best friend is an angel, supporting me when I feel like falling, lending me hope when I’m filled with despair, giving me strength when I want to give up. Merely knowing she is on my side makes me feel invincible, like I can overcome any wild disparity in my hopes that I may encounter.

Life is filled with disappointments. It makes me think of my own when I see those of others. But I know that if I can overcome a broken spirit and hardening heart, then so can anyone else- even you.

Even you.


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I love meeting with my Bishop.

It’s finally over.

All the heartache, the pain, the hurt

The wishing waiting hoping dreaming

It’s all paid off (:

And I’m where I’m supposed to be.

What a grand life we lead.

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Sometimes I feel like so much less than other people.

I feel like I’m not as cool as them, that my life isn’t as worth talking about, that I’m just not as awesome.

I feel like I have so far to go before I can feel like I’m on par…

I don’t even know how to explain this crap. I just hate feeling inferior, it’s not going away.

Maybe, if I keep improving the way I think I should, I will feel better. And then I won’t have to worry about it.


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2012 Resolutions


Take the Sacrament

Read the Book of Mormon

Get a new job

Rock momentum upside down

Write. Write. Write.

Read 1 book a month

Get a new CTR ring

Constantly try to better myself, don’t just vegetate.



I think it’s a pretty good list, but I might be biased. I didn’t want to make a resolution that was really specific, like work out three times a week no matter what, or things like that- except for the reading. I don’t usually keep resolutions like that, but I know I can do the book one.. Because it’s something I regret not doing more last year. This year is about becoming the best me I possibly can- hopefully through helping others become better. That would be cool. I want to be someone that everyone wants to be around. I’m getting closer to that, but I know I’m not there yet. Everyone makes mistakes. I just want mine to be not as big as they have been.

So there’s the plan. Become better. Easy, right? (: I guess we’ll see. Life’s an adventure, I think I wanna take it full swing.

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Write write write

Typetypetype. Writewritewrite. I never really know what to expect from my life. I woke up today feeling good, and then I crashed into near tears, and then I was fine. I’m excited to go dancing tonight.. But I don’t really want to go to momentum before that. I’ll probably feel differently later, though. And I have an interview! Soon. I had a phone interview this morning, but I have a real interview with someone different at three.. About an hour and a half. It will be an adventure I guess. I can’t wait to be doing something new, something important. I can’t wait to mean something. I hate being so useless. But I love writing..
It makes me feel so good. I can let everything out, just go and go and no one will interrupt me. Staples would call it vomiting. Just spewing. And that’s what it is. It feels cleansing. Like I’m getting rid of all the bad inside of me. That’s just what you need sometimes. It’s important to be filled with the good, and that’s kinda what this does for me. These awful, dark, disgusting pieces of text are my saving graces. They make room for the light that I try to cultivate inside of me. When I’ve gotten it out, written it, thrown it all up, I can forget about it. I can feel peace, for a time. I can pretend that everything is super okay, and that I’m right where I want to be- no matter how far from that spot I may really be. I think I could probably handle just about anything as long as I could write through it. Just blah blah blah and yap yap yap and suddenly I would be alright for a while.
I haven’t been eating a lot. I don’t think that’s good.. I should watch that more. It’s not intentional, I’m just not hungry I guess. Or I don’t think about it. Or I’m busy. Either way, it’s not healthy. And I’ve got to take care of myself. Don’t cry, and keep caring. I’m doing really good for the most part. Really, really good. I shower, do my laundry, brush my teeth, even clean my room now and then. And I write, so I clean my soul out, too. But I think in all that, I forget that my body needs sustenance, that it needs to be taken care of.
Mel just came over, and everything is better again. I also have some cream cheese pie. Yum.
Love without depending.
Everything will be okay.

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scrub a dub.

I wash away the pain and lonely with classic rock and some creative thinking…

Or writing. I tell myself stories of grandeur, where everything is an adventure and I always come out on top. Whether I learn to fight and bust my way out of a kidnappers lair, or I pick up spanish to learn where I’ve got to go next, I overcome every obstacle. Nothing can stand in my way. I always know exactly what to say or do. I am smart, fast, beautiful, and strong. I kick butt. Serious butt, too. Not like a squirrel.. I’m not even sure I could win a fight against a squirrel right this second. I think it would win. But I mean like drug cartel- murderous thieves- kidnapping masterminds butt. I do it, every time. They’ve got nothing on me.. Because I’m everything I wish I was. And then, before you know it, the hurt is buried real deep, and I’m singing along to Ozzy and Pink Floyd and all those radio men who know just what I need to hear. And for that drive, I’m her. That girl I make up stories about. Confident, tough, sassy, clever. Everything I wish I could be. She’s perfect, and at least for this song, for this story, I can be perfect, too.

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They always say not to go to bed angry, but I’ve never heard anything about going to bed with a broken heart.. Then again, I’m angry, too. I have no idea what’s going on, and I’m hurting, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it. I’m broken and it hurts like hell and I can’t stop crying. I don’t know what I did wrong.. I mean, I get the big thing, but what did I do to deserve this particular torture? I try so hard, work so hard to be as close to perfect as I can get. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. But still, I’m being treated like this. I feel worthless, and stupid, and used. I feel like worse than a stranger, less than the scum on the bottom of a shoe. I feel like I could disappear and it wouldn’t matter. Would it? Tell me if I matter. Because I need to know. I feel like garbage. My eyes are swollen, puffy, and red. My nose is stuffed. The skin on my face is raw and my nose is sensitive. I’ve been crying so much.. I broke down in the car. Just started sobbing, and crying, and I still am not done. It disgusts me. I just want to know where I went wrong, so I can fix it, so I can be better. I want to be better, want to be enough. I want to know what’s going on, and why suddenly I’m not worth shit. I used to feel so important, so loved, I used to feel like I meant something. What changed? Why did I turn into scum, garbage, nothing??? What did I do to earn this level of Hell?

Why do you build me up (Build me up)
Buttercup baby just to
let me down (Let me down)
And mess me around
And then worst of all (Worst of all)
You never call baby
When you say you will (Say you will)
But I love you still
I need you (I need you)
More than anyone darlin’
You know that I have from the start

So build me up (Build me up)
Don’t break my heart

– Build me up, Buttercup (The Foundations)

I’ll fix it. Because if I don’t, I’ll go crazy, and I’ll be miserable. I want my life to mean something again. I hate this!!!!! I just wanna scream , and throw and break things, and freak out, and swear like a sailor. I’m barely holding it all in, and it’s swelling up.. And probably turning to liquid and squeezing itself out my eyes.

Welcome to Hell week, ladies and gents. It’s gonna be a ride. I’m going to bed angry and broken and so, so hurt. We’ll see how I wake up tomorrow.



All this, and still, I love him more than anything. That’s what I need to focus on, I guess. I still love him. I still love him.

I still love him.

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