The current thread title strikes me as very appropriate today.

erika, I'm sorry that your father can't see how awesome you are. There are days I want to fly out there and shake the shit out of him.

Sorry,erika - you're right,you should have a place in the family

but unfortunately I stopped believing her when I started school.

Sigh. Kids suck. Sadly, sometimes teachers and administrators can suck too. (Not to say anything against the buffista teachers here, but...ay).

Finally sent out my invite to have people come watch So You Think You Can Dance. I hope peopel come over, that'd be fun. And the girl I went on the date with, from the internet, on Wednesday, emailed me (and texted me!) from Vegas (!), so clearly she enjoyed it much as I did. So that's good. Though I'm not sure I want to get in her pants, I definitely got an awesome friend vibe, at least. (Pants is still possible, not yet ruled out, though not super likely)

There are days when I want to let you do it, Anne. Or give him to ita as a practice dummy. Luckily, my mom makes up for it a lot.

since I know you're not a hugger

er. sorry about that. I couldn't put what I wanted to say into words very well. Though I sure am glad a lot of other people here can. And do.

still very hot here. especially with the AC deciding not to work about 2 hours after we turned it on for the first time this season.

I kept trying to defend myself with the fact that clearly, the most awesome person in the room was Lori, and clearly, she was with me. Suckas.

Water seeks its own level.

Totally valid defence. There have been times in my life when the way I fought off the Demons of Worthlessness were by shielding myself with thoughts of my friends, birds of a feather, and all that. I have been blessed with some superlatively amazing people as friends. Not just one or two who have made me a charity case out of the kindness of their hearts, but these people genuinely value me, and the contributions I make to their lives. Water seeks its own level - this statement is a truth, a mantra for me. It's true in so many ways. And one of the ways it is true, is that these amazing - lovely, passionate, compassionate, witty, brilliant, creative, amazing - people hang around me because there is something amazing about me. In the darkness, I can't see it or feel it, can't detect it myself, can't really believe it. But I can choose to think it is possible. I can choose to think maybe the amazing is there even if I can't detect it for myself. Some days, all I can do is force myself to admit that it's wrong to call these amazing people liars, or stupid, or crazy, for wanting to associate with me. No, I know they are wise, and in their right minds. So there must be something there. And this is a tiny glimmer of hope.

Water seeks its own level, Allyson. So yeah, you are with Lori, and the other amazing people in your life. And that is your true level.

There are a LOT of days when I still don't know how to deal with someone who treats me well, who treats me like I -- like we ALL -- deserve to be treated. Part of me is always vigilant, waiting for the other shoe to drop...

Recovery takes a whole lifetime. We do not have to be ruled by our kneejerk reactions, but it does not mean they will ever be completely eradicated. The automatic assessment of every man in my vacinity for their potential for violence is never going to stop running. And I can't stop myself from cringing momentarily when there is yelling. But I can stop myself from squeezing into closets or under furniture (well, ok, sometimes the furniture would stop me, even if I didn't).

We are all messed up. Still, I'm glad we can be messed up together.

::Nodding at WindSparrow::

Recovery isn't like sculpture, or music, or anything you start, struggle with, eventually find the key to, and then finish, with a sense of accomplishment and pride. Would that it were.

No, recovery is like verdamndt housework. You sweep, you make beds, you mop floors, you shine windows, you dust. But at no one point can you *stop* and say, "I'm done! It's perfect, I don't have to do any of that again."

Which, you know, sucks. I thought the getting to the ugly stuff and dragging it out to be looked at, examined, dealt with, meant putting it behind me and moving on.

Turns out, not so much. You have a good day, get some things done, feel validated, worthwhile, bask in the sun a little and there, scuttling at your feet is one of those ugly things, or a whole pack of them. Greying everything out and pulling all the warmth and light out of the day. But what can you do? You deal. That's just how it goes.

And the patches of light and air and feeling worthwhile get easier, and the patches of grey get farther apart, they do. But they don't go away. Or they haven't yet.

I'm bored. TCG is at a gig, that I am not at, because it will be smoky and my asthma has not been fun lately. My DVR is completely empty of fun things to watch, and I can't decide which book to read. It's totally a diamond shoe bored, but I'm still bored.

Tea:

I didn't mean to kill the thread. I decided to be productive and do laundry.