In My Head.

When I feel like this, this stuck-on-the-suck feeling, I have a tendency to go in loops.

In my head that is.

I think about things. Then I think about them some more. And then I rethink those thoughts. But only before rethinking the rethunk (shut up, it's a word tonight) thoughts.

By then I am usually more stuck than I was in the beginning.

The bad part about all of this is I psych myself out. I get myself into this weird place. A place that I am consciously aware of, but that scares the living shit out of me also.

It's a lot like my darkest place. But it's not.

I know it's not.

Because I know how to pull myself out. I know my own tricks of getting in and getting out.

I can recognize when I'm scaring myself. It's at that point I know I have to backtrack. I attempt to rationalize what I was trying to rationalize.

It's a terribly complicated cycle.

But I know it. And I know my way through it. That is the only thing that is keeping me from worrying myself.

The fact that I know me, I know what I can, and cannot, handle.

And most days, I know how to make me better. I know how to take me out of my head.

Stuck.

I'm stuck.

I'm stuck with what I'm feeling, whatever that is.

I'm stuck on this path.

The words are stuck between my head and my mouth.

The plans are stuck, cement-style.

I'm feeling stuck.

Pinned.

Trapped.

Alright. As you were.

Anxiously Awaiting.

I leave this town on September 3rd. I won't be moving all that far away, only to New Hampshire in fact. Of course, I'll visit. I'll probably spend my holidays here. I'll see friends and even come home to "my own" bed.

But I won't live here anymore.

This will become, "where I grew up," "my home-town." It won't be where I live, or "my town."

Part of me is very okay with that. Part of me is looking at it logically; I have to move away, and I want to move away. This should be a positive. Here is why it's a negative: because it's happening.

It.

Me. The School.

It's happening.

I can't stop it. I can accept it, and embrace it. (I'm giving myself a hell of a lot of slack on the embracing part.)

The deal is, I have to August until I know who I will be living with for the next nine months. Then I have until September to learn to like her (or them.)

I am BEYOND anxious. I (thank God) don't think about it everyday. But when I do, I think about EV-ER-RY-THING. All the could happen- the bad stuff, the good stuff. (See that? Being hopeful. And it's all driving me up. a. wall. I know that I cannot know what will happen in August or September, or hell, January. But it doesn't stop me from wondering.

I just keep telling myself: I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Happy Day of Independence, America!