just be me

All my life I’ve just been doing things to make other people happy. Even not being myself. I’m so done with that and I don’t care if people (especially my mom) don’t like it because I want to be who I am.

It’s so hard to just be myself when all I want is to fit in and stop feeling so alone.
It’s hard to be myself at work when everyone seems so cool. It feels much like high school. I’ll say or do something then wonder why. The free coffee never helps.
I just can’t believe myself sometimes, I feel so lame.
I’ve been feeling very much alone lately, wishing I had someone to turn to and just talk. It always seems to end up the same, they have issues of their own or yells and tears of some sort.
I really miss the care free days. The days when work wasn’t my whole life, or at least 85 %. Damn it, I really don’t like it there.
On Monday I need to call Metro South and see about a Spring art class. After that I have to go down to Mosaic and help out until it’s time for bed.
Then on Tuesday, I have to cash my check after work and talk about my, very over due, credit card and school bills or whatever.

I know this wasn’t so much fun to read but if I can’t talk to someone I’ll just write.
That reminds me, I started to write a song in the shower today. I didn’t have anyway to write it down so I just said the words over and over.

A big thanks to those for read this.
Even if I don’t know you, I love you.

Harder than it seems, but beautiful when unconscious of it.

I think sometimes this is the hardest thing to do. However, it’s the most important thing to do. I think, in a way, over the last few years that I have lost part of myself. Maybe not lost, but I think that I’ve shoved it away in some place and have forgetten about it. It’s time I find it.

I didn’t like myself before…
I thought I was timide, too shy and super sensitive(not exactly in a nice way) so I didn’t really like myself but I’ve come to realize that’s just who I am, and even though I’m not a perfect person, at least I think I’m getting better and I feel better about myself than before.

i’ve been in london. not the best place when you are electrostatically challenged – as in you have to swipe twenty times a day to get in an out of buildings and travel and hotel and beep I’m the exception to the rule. Everery frigging time.

I even short circuited the hotel electrics just being me. There has to be a place where peope like me can live. It’s not london. Oh god it’s smoke free too. It’s no longer London, it’s Stepford.

Trying to find your self at 28 is kind of a hard thing to do. I love being a wife. I think I am very good at it. So people think that if your a women that you should be able to do anything a man can do and do it better. That women don’t have to rise a family and take care of their home. I am not that women. I am a women that take care of my family. I cook, i clean and when my husband gets home i take care of him. I bring his plate to him at dinner. I will be up in the middle of my dinner just to get him something else to drink. I love it! My husband doesn’t demand that. but i want to do it. As a matter of fact i wouldn’t have it any other way. But beside being a wife i am a great mother. But I am not sure what else i am good at. I am just trying to find out !!!!!!

Im so tired of hiding who I really am! I try to please people by acting like someone else, but I cant ever please everyone. I try to be myself, do things and not worry about what other people will think, but I cant do it. Im always worrying about what others will think of me. I wish I could JUST BE ME! And be happy about it.

I have a hard time just being me. I want people to like me and sometimes I change to fit in. I don’t mean to but sometimes it just happens. I am the worst around my family. I’m not two face or anything I just try to make everyone happy. I am trying to stop it. I hate it.

since I had insomnia. It can’t be 2.19. It just can’t.

It’s all because there are 20 pages of Christopher Brookmyre left and I so want to read them but if I do I’ll have to wake up tomorrow with that horrible feeling you get when you wake up and remember you finished a damn good book and can therefore no longer look forward to it. And tomorrow already has the odds stacked against it.

Arg, decisions.