Now

I've come to the conclusion that I've lost my home and most of my friends. Every few days, something happens to make me feel that I shouldn't go back to Pittsburgh. I feel like people are forcing me out--being cruel to me on purpose just to make sure I don't come back. If that's not what I'm supposed to do, then I'm completely lost again. I have nothing, not even something to work towards. It seems so ironic since I just had an amazing conversation with a group of old friends that really made me feel like going back was the right choice. Now I feel as if I've taken a giant leap backwards. I wasn't going to mention it, but if I don't end up going back, it won't matter very much. A friend of mine told me that more people than I assume/know think that I am manipulative and self-serving, and that because she believes where there is smoke, there is fire, this is true. I could list a hundred things that could disprove that, but I know that all it takes is one or two for anyone to believe otherwise. I'm trying to convince myself that the people who matter the most know the real me and actually care to be around me. That's not very many people these days, apparently. If my former friends are trying to make me hate myself as much as possible and send me back to the hospital, they're certainly doing a good job. I'm going to lose Pittsburgh to this--to people who only call when they want something from me or to yell at me. To people who just want to see me fail miserably. To people who are going to push me to my limit until I break down completely (again), and then belittle me for being weak or selfish for not just sucking it up. I don't want to end up going back to Pittsburgh to be just as lonely or even more lonely than I am now. I'd love to know where I went wrong and why apologizing for the things I have done wrong is not good enough for some people. And if it's not good enough, just tell me that, and leave me alone. I don't like being strung along. I don't care for people pretending to care about me. I'd rather just know you don't. But then maybe you wouldn't be able to get what you wanted out of me. How am I supposed to believe anything else if your actions don't say anything else, and you refuse to talk to me? I'm really struggling to figure people out here.

Do people think I am manipulative because of the way I think? I'm not trying to guilt anyone into feeling a particular way about something simply because I mention that I don't give a fuck what happened yesterday and that I'm always willing to start anew with someone. My life circumstances have brought me to the conclusion that everyone is deserving of another chance if that is what they truly desire. God gives you infinite chances, or so I was taught in grade school...as long as you are sorry. So as long as someone's willing to try, I don't care what you've done to me. I won't forget it, and it make take time to rebuild things, but I'll never hold it against you. Maybe it's that I try to talk to my friends for advice about the matter and they end up telling the whole world somehow. Not that this makes it right, but I know the "other side" or whatever does the same thing. For me, I just need to know the right thing to do. I'm never very sure about how to deal with relationship/social problems that arise. I keep fucking them up somehow, and I do wish I knew how to fix it.

Maybe some of it has to do with money? I don't know. I can't tell you how many times I've given all I had to other people, just in this year alone. It may not have been much in the eyes of others, but it's happened, and I've had to start all over again with trying to save. Maybe the fact that I can't drive? I just don't know. How am I manipulating people? About what is it that I am being so selfish?

I'll admit that I was being a bit selfish at the end of last year. I couldn't afford not to be. I chose to do what was best for me, even though it was going to hurt other people. But I couldn't survive any longer by pleasing other people, and I mean that literally. I was on the verge of heading right back into the psych ward, and you know what, I still am thanks to all that's transpired since the last time. But I did what I needed to do, and I don't regret it. If I have anything going for me at all, it's that I have the balls to say that. I have the balls to put this out there for everyone to see, half crying over here hoping that at least one person who used to care about me understands that I am a real human being. And what's happening to me is real.

It's hard to know whether or not I'm doing the right thing these days. So many people are so upset with me. So many people want me to believe that I am wrong. The trouble is that I'm sure this happens to people who actually are doing the wrong thing, but they react in the same way as someone who knows he is doing the right thing. So I want to know which it is. And if I am not, what am I doing wrong? I certainly can't fix it if I don't know what it is. (My friend didn't mention what about me was so bad either, so maybe she didn't know why the others were saying this anyway. Or maybe she didn't have the heart to tell me when I was already so upset, and failing at hiding it.)

I told my mother earlier tonight that it's hard to keep caring about anything when things like this keep happening. She mentioned that maybe I needed to come back here because she needed a friend. I agreed with her that it was the right decision to leave Pittsburgh when I did, but I also believed that it would be the right decision to return as soon as I could. Not knowing if that's the case is killing me. Thinking that it may not be is killing me. It felt so good to walk around Oakland that day. It felt right. I hadn't felt like a place belonged to me in a long time. But without the people that matter the most to me, it's just a place. And I'd be alone. In that case, I might as well just stick with the memories. What's a home without a future? A graveyard.

She said it was lonely at the top. Well, it's also lonely at the bottom. I don't know where I am anymore. I don't know where I am supposed to be. Some people will give me the obvious answer that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now, but it all feels so wrong. I feel so out of place. I feel like a drifter in my own life--like I have no control. And it makes it that much harder to keep doing the things I enjoy when I have this overwhelming feeling that absolutely nothing I do matters or will make any difference for me or anyone else in the long run.

I've cried more in the last year or so than I had in all of college. How am I supposed to know if I am getting any better? I don't want to be miserable and lonely for the rest of my life. And I don't want to believe that it's my fault, which is what so many people seem to be telling me--or rather, everyone except me, and I'm finding out about it later.

I can't please anyone it seems. I can't even make myself happy. And now I know that I'm going to have a horrible day at work tomorrow and be intensely awkward, and there's nothing I can do about it. Why? Partly because this will be on my mind and partly because I will be up all night thinking about it. I seem to be worse at functioning in the real world when I am tired.

My mom ended up asking me if I had thought of any other places I'd like to go. She said that I might figure something out when I visit Boston. And DC. I guess I could go anywhere, but I'm terrified, and she knows all too well how a change like that would affect me.

I've been trying to fight being where I am, looking up new apartment listings in Pittsburgh every single night since I've been home. I was putting everything into Pittsburgh. Every ounce of energy I had. And now, my motivation may be gone. It may not have been real. I don't even know what I meant by that, which leads me to believe that I'm getting into one of those states again, where continuing to type is better than facing the alternative of sitting here in silence and letting my thoughts wander into even worse places. Getting the words out seems to take away some of their potency. They can't hurt me when they are this far away, perhaps.

I know just living shouldn't be this painful. I know it.

If I am supposed to be here, I want to know why. And I want to know what I'm supposed to be doing.

If I stop looking towards moving back and start focusing on my life as it is here and now, in this shithole town with no one around, will things get better? Or will they get worse?

I really do wonder what it's like not to worry about everything.

I'm fighting the urge to go for a walk at this hour since I know I have to be up for work, but I need something to distract me.

Why can't I just move forward from all of this? Man, I really hope all of this bitchy writing pays off someday.