Sixty four.

i find myself cycling through frustrations of late.

it goes: doing well, really happy, get a little down, frustrated at self, over think everything, cool down, feel better, doing well... and so on.

i look at some of the people i admire, and how easy going a lot of them are. i'd like to think i'm like that. the truth is i'm not. i think a lot. i over think. i'm sensitive. i'm insecure. it's better than it used to be. it's nowhere near where it should be. and here comes the frustration - i know what my problem is, at least i think i do, but i seem incapable of helping myself out. nor do i want anyone's help. undesireable emotoin equates to undersirable me in my head. is this truth? no. does that change how i feel? no.

then i think about it, and realize that i assume this one change will make things better. my utopia is me easy going. it seems a little ridiculous. i seem a little ridiculous.

you know what i realized today, other than that it's stupid cold in winnipeg? that the only person who will be around for the whole extent of our lives is ourselves. this is both sobering and encouraging to realize. how many people have gone before me, dealing with so much more than i have to "struggle" through? that means that we're equpit to get through things. others help, but we ultimately make these decisions right? right.

strength for the day. hope for tomorrow. so i'm off to bed.