I'm so sorry.

I have lost it.

I have lost my mind.

I have recently developed a severe case of emetophobia - the fear of vomiting.

I wake up every night and have panic attacks that can last anywhere from 30 minutes to 3 hours.

I hate myself.

I can't do anything anymore.

I can't ride in a car, I have to be driving. I can't work for more than five hours. I can't sleep. i can't eat without worrying about getting food poisoning. I can't drive in traffic. I can't go to theme parks, or drink soda. I can't laugh, it moves my stomach too much, and makes me worry. I can't enjoy a party. I'm taking more meds than I ever have in my life: Anxiolytics, vitamins, sometimes dramamine. I see the doctor monthly, I have an appointment with a GI Specialist on thursday, just in case any of the nausea is real.

Please someone help me. Please someone relate. Please someone take this away from me. Please God.

I feel alone. Foreign in my own house, my room, my own skin. I can't do this too much longer. It's hard. Impossible.

And I can't write while I'm panicking. I can't hardly think straight. Dear God, why is this happening? How did this happen?

JestemHolden

I have received a couple of emails recently that made me think a lot. And I apologize to you for not responding in a timely manner at all. I honestly can only write this when I'm alone, and that doesn't happen as often as it should.

I'm tired of sorting the massively important emails you are sending me out of a sizable lake of emails I really don't need to read or reply to. I will, of course, still read and reply to all the emails you can send me, I just feel extraordinarily guilty about not responding as fast as I should. *Sigh,* so I made an AIM account. I'll keep it online whenever I'm alone, so if you see me online, I want to talk to you.

I'm worried about whether I'll still be who I want to be without being able to proofread, but I can at least try it for the time being.
So, if you want to tell me something, you can email me. If you want to talk to me, you can instant message me.

Taking the technological approach to this is goddamn awful and I'm sorry. I just need to talk to you guys, and I can't find another way of doing it.

Email, as always: BrAveryK@Gmail.com
AIM: JestemHolden

Till again we feel the same,
H

At least he didn't die young. I never got to meet him, though with his mentality I think he probably would have just hit me. Someone should, and who better to do it?

I wish I could have at least seen him. He was a good man, even if he doesn't think so. And there's little more respect I could possibly have for him.

Rest in Peace, J.D. Salinger.

Away

I want nothing more than to be who I was before, but in my current circumstances.

It seems with the advent of Amanda leaving, and a new, more beautiful girl who seems to put up with me, I have lost the urge to better myself. Without the constant insecurities, I don't feel like I need to be someone better than who I am. That urge is something I have always wanted to keep around. The thought of losing it is daunting, saddening. Hopeless, in a way, if I can want something that bad and still lose it.

But now, I am trying to make more time alone. More time to think. With a roommate, a girl, and friends who basically live here, it's hard to get time alone from all the people in my life. Harder still to explain to people why you need it. I need to find things in my life than inspire me to be exactly who I was. In a stupid, contradictory way, I was the happiest I had ever been at the lowest points of my life. (I use the word 'happy' tenderly here.)

But I need more than that. If you connect at all to the way my posts make you feel, if you can hear most of the words here read in your voice, email me. Tell me that I've done something more than pointless.

I never thought I would be the one running at the cliff through the rye. I never thought I would slip away from myself, and become so bland, so improper in my own skin. I hate it.

braveryk@gmail.com