It's hard, confronting three years worth of emotions by reading over my journal entries for my book. Sometimes I read passages from all three years in one night, because I skip around instead of work through it consecutively.

There's something oddly bittersweet about AFTER the break up with Mike. Oh man, but if I were to try to explain WHAT it is, I could only go wrong, because there are just so many conflicting emotions, depending on when I read and what I read.

I'm beginning to see the relationship with Mike in a semi-new light. I loved myself while I was with him, in a way that I had never before loved myself. And it was amazing. But that was the extent of it. He didn't love me enough and he didn't treat me well at all, I'm surprised at how badly he treated me.

I handled him so well. I had to bring out a compassionate maturity that I had never had before. I accepted him and coaxed him and nurtured him in such a beautiful way.

Pretty much until Isis was born, everything I did was infused with the break up. Everything about my life revolved around the break up. Everything I did was either directly about the break up, a trivial distraction from the break up, or in epic struggle against the break up's hold over me.

And that's something I never realized. Isis gave me something. Amelia did, as well. But still at that point, I was struggling to be happy without Mike, so even though I was developing a new relationship with Amelia and a new part of myself through my philosophical inquiries, it was really Isis and then Dan who brought out an actual novel life, that had absolutely nothing to do with the break up.

But, even though the things I held onto after the break up were mostly superficial and image-oriented, I kind of miss them. I miss the highs in contrast with the lows. Or maybe I'm entirely wrong about this and there's something underlying that I miss about that time. I miss the epic battle inside myself. I was pushing and pulling myself. Pushing to overcome all the pulling I was making happen in my emotional body with feelings for Mike.

I held onto all these crazy little things, all these distractions. My writing is funny and random because I was bitter over the break up and desperate to find any connection to reality. You know? Like I didn't have any substance, any roots with reality because my reality had been Mike. I didn't know what I had after he was gone. So I just grabbed at anything random and silly to pretend like I was involved in reality, when I really wasn't.

I was opening up a lot of philosophical theories that changed my outlook on reality, but I couldn't really talk to anyone but Amelia about them. It's a lot easier for me now. I'm comfortable. Letting go of Mike was like letting go of that superficial teenage life I had and never want to have again. That's what dropping out of high school was. Letting go of the meaningless life that I was following to go with the crowd.

Maybe this is all about my ego. Maybe my ego is nostalgic for the effort. I was trying so desperately to create an image that functioned away from Mike. Something I could be satisfied with. Music, designs, icons, wit. Simple things that felt good for me. I don't regret it. In retrospect, they were meaningless things. I used them appropriately and let them go when I was ready to develop something more important.

But there's still that strange bittersweet feeling.

Tom. What is it? He's going to the military and he invited me to his going away party, though I couldn't come. And I just remembered it was on Sat and it hit me so hard. Tom wanted to date me for so long and I rejected it all. I feel like I gave him nothing and it saddens me so much. There's something weird in connection to the bittersweet breakup and Tom.

I can't put my finger on it. Even if I could, I'd probably still have it wrong. There's probably something very underlying that I'm reading about the situation. Something that affects me in some manner I can't really be sure of.

Something empty. I guess, like I didn't do enough with Tom. Like I feel I didn't take advantage of his presence in my life. He tried so hard to be close to me. I took full advantage of Green Day and snowboarding but not Tom. And now the time has passed and Tom is gone. And I feel so unfulfilled. So empty when I think about him. There's something missing. I feel like I should have done more. It's really upsetting me. It's such a strange feeling.

I think that I felt so awful in general, that such small, sweet, simple, superficial things gave me such an extraordinary, healing high. It soothed me and nurtured me so much. I took it where I could get it. I don't have a hard time facing reality anymore, so I don't need these sweet simple highs and yet, I'm not truly fulfilling my passions so I'm not completely satisfied - so I'm kind of humming at a low frequency. If that makes sense.

It's sad to say this but I'm not fulfilling myself with Starbucks and Joe. It's not a bad relationship and I relish the comfort sometimes. He gives me things I've wished for so, so, so, so much since I broke up with Mike. Things I thought even Mike gave me, but he really didn't. And now Joe gives me these things that I asked for. It's a healthy relationship. But there's something missing. I just don't know that it's realistic to expect that in the future I'll be in a relationship with someone who can fulfill that missing aspect.

I feel so emotionally out of place and empty right now. It hasn't previously hit me this hard, reading over my entries. I have to say that it started when I read a message I wrote to Mike's mom a month after the final breakup. I don't know what it was. I didn't read the whole message, saved it for later, but it was such a different perspective than what I remember. A different side of the break up. The break up grew into this shadow of anxiety that just haunted me for months and months after. The proclamation - whatever it was, that I made to his mom, and her words back were just so touching in a way that I don't fully understand.

Maybe I'm just so used to remembering spite and anger and fighting. I didn't love myself after the break up and I struggled so hard to deal with it. I fought so hard, I resented so much, I feared so much. It was ugly. But it wasn't like that just a month after the break up. It developed into that, it developed into this obsession that drove me crazy.

I think that the final letter to his mom was almost like me putting closure on, this is hard to explain.... the way I felt for myself through Mike, was still reminiscent through his mom. I lost it with Mike and it haunted me. It haunted me to be reminded of it every day, all day long.

I don't know why I care though. I don't know why I find it beautiful and touching that I loved myself when I wrote to his mom. Because I love myself more than I ever did while dating Mike right now, don't I? Maybe I miss the challenge, the compassion that I had while dealing with Mike. Maybe a compassion that I had for myself. Even though, judging from my journal entries, I didn't really feel that compassionate for myself at the time.

Maybe it's that twin flame thing. That's so weird.

Ugh. I am just crying really hard right now and these emotions are so foreign to me. Maybe I'm just feeling things I've never let myself feel. Like the underside of a snail. That's why I said that I dealt with so many hard, aggressive, angry feelings after the break up. And this just feels so tender. Not comforting, just tender, raw.

Did I have something like that with Mike? Something so vulnerable and naive. And I hated myself for it afterwards so I developed something so sour and bitter. And I've carried it with me. It's not that I act sour and bitter, per se. It's just a shadow that hangs over my reactions, and my ability to be myself. I protect myself a lot more. Because Mike hurt me, betrayed me with our break up. I shared something with him. Something tender.

I feel comfortable with Joe. There's no doubt about it. I feel more secure and confident and comfortable with him. I definitely love myself more and I accept myself more. But there's still something stiff and hard about my relationship with him. Not an obvious thing, but a subtle nuance that I didn't have ANY CLUE of until now, until reading that letter.

I felt so foolish for trusting Mike so explicitly. I hated myself for trusting him. I hated that. I was always so trusting. It's like, these days, I have so much confidence that I don't actually fear and regret and hate as much as I used to. Because I know I can hold my own in any situation I get into. But I still haven't let go of that wall of protection. I still haven't allowed myself to breathe so naturally. To trust so fully.

I can tell that I need to release something cause my nose is stuffing itself up and as I talk it's clearing up again. I wasn't ready to trust so openly. I was too vulnerable because I didn't know how to love myself and thus, protect myself the true way. In love, there is no pain and there is no aggression or destruction. You can't bruise or break if you love yourself. It's the capability to be invulnerable.

I couldn't open myself up raw to the world and be okay. I got wounded from the things I experienced. I could deal with Mike all over again and not be wounded this time. Because I've grown stronger. But now I need to let go of that wall of protection. I need to surrender the fear that I may some day become hurt again. I need to have faith in the progress I've made.

I don't quite know how to do that right now. But now that I've identified the problem, I can just let nature take its course. We're naturally self-healing, if we only allow ourselves to do so. So I've just got to allow myself to do so. Stop holding onto any reasoning that tells me I need a firm wall of protection.

I haven't sneezed but my nose is running, so that means I'm releasing something.

Gosh, it took a long time for me to figure it all out. Lucky I have patience. Though I'm not entirely sure how Tom fits into that. Maybe because he was someone I could trust and I was too scared to recognize it. I don't know.

I have to work really hard to read through all my old journal entries this next week. I'm going down to Virginia to visit my parents the day after Thanksgiving and I want to have the reading portion done, if not the organizing part before I go.

I'm also going to start a website. I wrote an article for my parents website and they've had it for nearly 2 months but haven't bothered to read it even though it'll only take ten minutes. and I think they were meant to not read it, that's why they didn't feel the impulse to find the time - just the opposite. Because if they had, they would have put it on their website and I would have been satisfied with that. But now that they haven't, I still need my words to get out there, I need someone to listen and communicate with, someone to hear what I have to say, many someones. So making my own website will be a good start.

Though I'm scared. And that's one of the reasons why I wanted to go through my parents, because they would actually be the ones receiving the messages from people and I could almost anonymously post my work, and not directly connect with people. So I have to face my fear by directly reaching out to people who can communicate with me and connect with me on this level.

I should mention that I was already recommended to make my own website a few months ago, but I rejected the suggestion. I think I'll talk to my dad while I'm down there and try setting it up.

I feel like this election would have been more relevant to me, if there had been a woman candidate. So many people are grateful becomes this victory is the highest acknowledgment of their right to be American citizens. I think we should just throw out the term "african american" cause African, for a large portion of the "african american" generations is just a way of saying, dark skinned. It's not really referring to their cultural history. We sometimes refer to people as Irish Americans or something of the kind. But after even just one generation, if you grew up in America and especially if your parents grew up in America and ESPECIALLY if your grandparents grew up in America.... where they came from shouldn't be part of your identification label.

I mean, personally, the "african american" culture that I see here in America, didn't come from Africa. It was created in America and reflects the American culture, but to a certain degree, the "african american" american culture. Not that white people don't join in. (I'm talking about like the ghetto style, for lack of a better label.)

But if I was black and I had grown up in America and my parents had grown up in America and, well, if my former generations had been here since even slavery, I'd be pretty offended if I couldn't just simply be called, an American.

They should have just stuck with "black" and "white". But personally, any distinguishing name is kind of offensive. Because in America, is seems like "white" is the default, therefore to speak of "color" is to speak of the minority. And that's why it's relevant for the minorities to finally have a distinguished and honored representative.

And although I clearly understand the significance, I haven't really ever thought of their situation in a compassionate way. Because I've never oppressed the minorities. I've never been racist, I've never cared about lower class or race. So, I've never been sensitive to how it feels for them to be oppressed. It didn't really concern me.

But, Ashley, who is half African American. So she's half American American and half African American. Or part Spanish. I'm not sure, but she looks black in any case and she talks black in any case and she dates black guys, in any case... she called me a bitch like 17 times today. And it hurt. Naturally. I expressed honestly to her that I have never done anything to her, I have never given her attitude or treated her badly. I honestly did not deserve it.

And I had to cry. She was just having a bad day and she took it all out on me at the first opportunity. And it hurt. It seems that once my tears are full throttle, I can't make them stop. I don't cry often, but when I do, it's a force of its own. So I was trying to make my tears stop and I just said simply to myself, I know I'm not a bad person. End of story. A lot of people at work try to tear me down and they try to make me their enemy. And no matter what justification or excuse they come up with, I know that it's not worth it to fight them or acknowledge that they're my enemy. I only have to tell myself that I'm simply and naturally not a bad person. No way.

And I don't need to prove it. I don't need to struggle with it. I don't need to fight them for it. I don't need their validation. I'm just simply not a bad person. I think that throughout all of the fights I had in my lifetime and probably many more lifetimes, whenever someone accused me of being their enemy, of being a bad person in one way or another, when I argued back, I was half arguing with myself. I was half trying to prove to myself that I was not a bad person. Because I wasn't sure. And I've been trying to earn it like crazy in the past year being a friggen saint. though that wasn't my only motivation, of course.

But I felt that any spiritual progress and maturity and growth that I made would help me earn a little bit more worth. And that maybe if I reached perfection, I could ALMOST be worthy. But I didn't earn perfection through my progress. I only uncovered what was already there. I cleaned away the grime and I like what I found underneath. I like who I am.

God. All these times that I've even made progress with loving myself, I've always said that I loved myself at those times so passionately and excitedly. Like I needed a lot of enthusiasm and positivity. But I think that I always expressed my self-loathing by my inability to allow other people to love me. It made me uncomfortable to touch any situation where someone had good or bad feelings for me. Naturally, this is why I've avoided people since Mike and I broke up. Because if you're uncomfortable in every single social situation, it gets pretty futile to make friends and lovers and to even bond with your family.

I've had such a cloud over me. And to be honest, I am inspired by Obama's speech. I mean, I told this to myself in the bathroom earlier. But I feel like I can echo the cloud that's being lifted off the hearts of people who have felt oppressed by white america, and I didn't even realize it until now. I like myself. I don't have to tell myself that I love myself, the way you say you love your family because you feel you're obligated to love them even if you don't like them. I would seriously choose me as a friend. I'm fond of myself the way I'm fond of other people. I can enjoy my company and appreciate that I am good company the way I would any other good person.

But, there's a twist, I guess. The point of my story was that although I knew that I knew I was a good person, I still cried and it still hurt. Well it stopped hurting after my OFFICIAL STATEMENT. But I still cried.

And that's why I could imagine that even if an "african american" had an equal perception of racial equality, it would still be hurtful to grow up knowing that it's an issue to so many people. It hurts me that so many people at work have to debate if I'm a bitch or not. And usually, it's not much of a debate, they just agree that I'm a bitch.

And I think that although I always knew that it was their own world that defined who I was, their own reality that was projected onto me, I was worried that even though they were looking at me through a skewed perspective, I still MAY have done something to provoke it. I still MAY have done something to DESERVE it. and now I know that I haven't. I don't feel guilty. And I'm ready to accept that it is wholly their own perspectives being projected onto their own perspectives of my behavior. They see me how they want to. And I will never be able to present myself as I hope they see me, because it doesn't matter. They will see me how they want to.

And I have to let it be. I have to let their decisions be what they are. I can't struggle with them over it. It's going to be the way it's going to be. I need to know that I should and will do anything that I feel is right, regardless of how I hope it affects them. I can't be afraid to be myself just because I'm afraid to cross them. I can't be afraid to be controversial. Because when I'm a perfect little angel, I'm still a stuck up, tattle tail, cry baby, bitch with an attitude who sucks at life, inspires hate and is bad at working at starbucks.

I never did anything to earn those titles in the first place. I know that. I thought I may have with my attitude. But I have to have compassion for myself.

[23:39] Clawplagh: so because im completely random in conversation
[23:39] Clawplagh: are you good at forgiving people? is my next question
[23:39] IAMSpartacus117: yes.
[23:40] IAMSpartacus117: but technically I still hold a grudge when it's personal because, it's hard to explain, I don't always know how to be myself in a comfortable way around people who I conflict with.
[23:41] Clawplagh: oh. is that why youre always kind of defensive at work?
[23:42] IAMSpartacus117: I don't hold grudges in the least bit, nor do I get very angry. but yes, I get defensive.
[23:42] IAMSpartacus117: partly just because of the way I feel about myself. people don't enjoy situations where they don't feel good about themselves.
[23:42] IAMSpartacus117: so when I get in those situations, I have bad reactions.
[23:43] IAMSpartacus117: and it's not other people's fault. but they tend to escalate the situation because they aren't very sensitive.
[23:43] Clawplagh: ah
[23:44] IAMSpartacus117: and sometimes I don't know how to get back from that. It's like when you make someone the asshole and you don't let it go, and you always hold it against them. like we all do with Bryan. there's no way to come back from that. how do you think it makes him feel? it honestly only makes him worse.
[23:44] IAMSpartacus117: the only way to open up for better behavior is to give him a chance to have better behavior.
[23:46] Clawplagh: humans arent usually wired to think forgivingly, which does suck for people like bryan
[23:46] Clawplagh: heh
[23:47] IAMSpartacus117: I'm a compassionate person. I think that people reflect how they treat themselves by how they treat others.

And I have begun to be compassionate towards others, because I understand their psychology. But I kept thinking today, if only people could understand this about me. If only people could be compassionate about my situations. Why do I do the things that I do? Don't I have excuses for my mistakes? Not justifications, but reasons that are understandable. When you make someone the enemy, you've marked them evil. It's the classic situation of good and evil only each one thinks that they're on the good side and that their enemy is evil. How can I acknowledge that I can be anyone's enemy? When I'm no where near evil. I'm no where near selfish or immoral. I have to have compassion that even if I am defensive, I am not a bad person. Even if I give an attitude, I am not a bad person. Even if I come off strong, I am not a bad person.

I am no one's enemy. I will not concede to that. Yes, I would have never used that word if not for watching the election speeches tonight.

Most importantly, I'm not an enemy of myself. I've had such positive thinking and positive expression for myself over the past year. I've done incredibly. But it needed to sink in. I needed to believe it whole heartedly. And maybe I'm not 100% there. There's always progress to be made. But I've taken the next step, that's for sure.

Though, my anecdote has made me realize that how you feel that people feel about you is a reflection of how you feel about yourself. What you acknowledge and feel the ramifications of is not another's perception, but your own. If you feel badly, it was your own opinions that brought it about. And thus, you shouldn't require external validation.

Socially, as far as the government and social reforms go, it can't hurt to have more equality. But I don't push them as much because if I was black, I would never wait for an "african american" president to validate my racial or general worth. I think that if anything, we've been ready to accept equality. The people of America have been ready to accept equality. White america has been ready. But african americans needed to become ready to accept equality as well. They hung on to their status, if I'm not too bold to say. I know that's terrible generalization. But, many of them did, and I know this because many people of any race or gender or age, believe themselves to be victims and relish in it. And the african americans have been victims for centuries. They're trademark victims. And I think they hung onto it too long.

The other day I said, "so, this is a racist comment. I think that black people use the race card way too much." That's my racial judgment.

To a certain degree, we needed fighters. We needed strong black individuals who were willing to fight for their civil rights. But once they got them, it was their move. It was their turn to make a statement that they were willing to accept equality. And for a long time, they didn't. They still saw themselves as separate and victims of our differences. And they accepted their status to a certain degree. I can't judge fairly that they didn't have opportunities. I don't know what it's like to not have opportunities. I see them everywhere. But perhaps that's because I'm willing to see them everywhere. Perhaps I'm willing to acknowledge my opportunities and many black people have not been willing to acknowledge them.

I mean, the way I see it, a black person is not really a black person. A black person is a soul who has come into a skin. Just skin. I was probably black in a past life. It happens. There is honestly no separation for me because skin is just skin. Like the size of your ears. It's just a superficial chance. You get big earlobes, you get small earlobes. Not something to write home about. So I recognize that there is no skin underneath the surface and that there is no color or relevance to color underneath the surface. But I also believe that we are born into lives that reflect the mindsets we choose to have. And if we're born into a life with little opportunity, it's because we believe that there is little opportunity, and we're really only getting what we expected of life. Nothing new.

We like to say, "well I believe that I have no opportunities because I grew up with no opportunities." That's not how it works. You grow up with no opportunities by believing that there are no opportunities. You see what you want to see and you bring upon yourself what you ask for. You make your bed.

C'est. La Vie.

And if Obama got elected, it means that he is willing to have enough self-respect to believe that he can be the president. We've never had anybody even try have we? Same with women, I know that they have allowed themselves to be victims too long as well. I wouldn't even let Joe see me cry today because I knew he would hug me and pat me on the back and act like I'm a little girl who needs his big strong arms and I'm like - no, I don't need your big strong arms. Just as underneath the skin, there is no color, underneath the skin, there is no gender.

It should have been a black woman president. I want one of those.

But today doesn't mark the day that America has accepted black people. It marks the day that black people have accepted that America has accepted black people. And they need to live up to that. They need to recognize that if they want equality, they have to give up their victim status. Because white americans have too much pride to be pitied. Not that I admire that quality. But the american nature does not accept the slums. That's why our economy sucks. There's too much greed and gluttony and waste and not enough money to satiate it.

I have not a fiber in my being that says that "african americans" can't stand tall. But they need to believe it too. They need to be willing to stand tall now.