not gonna write you a love song.

I don't think there's any point in the unpleasant morning-after feeling if there's not morning after. I need to make more mistakes. I need to not be a perfectionist. I need to have a messy personal life again, so that maybe I can get my professional life back on track. No? Yes.
I miss feeling compelled to call someone at three in the morning from another continent just because. I miss that. Where the hell did that feeling go? I used to fall so hard for people.
Now, not only can I not get that right, I can't get any work done whatsoever. What is wrong with me?
And why won't those doctors return my calls? I'm tired of grinding my stupid teeth in my sleep.

all of these things are true.

I make lists.
*Things that I am committed to:
-I'm committed to modeling
-I'm committed to therapy
-I'm committed to BNT
-I'm committed to Barack Obama
-I'm committed to French
-I'm committed to directing
-I'm committed to being there for my friends
I'm not committed to myself. I don't know how to commit to something I can't let down.

This is hard. It's hard to admit, but I can't be honest unless I say it. Can't feel honest unless I talk it out. I can't deal.
I'm stressed about directing. I'm scared I'll fuck up my scene and disappoint Stephanie. I'm scared I'll disappoint Lora Zane, and that she'll stop believing in me.
I'm heartbroken that Isis on America's Next Top Model got axed. She was one of my inspirations. She couldn't believe in herself enough. She's been through so much more than me.
There are so many people who are smarter, stronger, more confident, and more successful, and they have all suffered more than I have.
So what makes me so so afraid of measuring up? Of just being adequate? Why am I so against myself?
There's a difference between being 'good' and being 'good enough'. The trick is that you have to be both. No one wants to be married because she's just 'good enough' but no one wants to lose a competition and hear, "Oh, but you were still good."

I can't deal. I psych myself out, and there are days when I'm convinced I don't have any real friends. Or that I have one. I have so much trouble opening up to people. I'm a pro at sabotaging relationships, and now- now that I'm going through these nasty anxiety issues- I'm going through them alone. I just don't think it's fair to dump my issues on anyone else. They feel so trivial. I'm getting pro help instead.
I just want people to be happy and feel good. I try to facilitate that. I'm exhausted thinking about this.

My eyes are bright, and

Watching Juno got me thinking. You're having this baby, and it's beautiful, an amazing, and exciting, and a miracle, and you have all these expectations. And then it's born and it's wonderful. And then it grows up and it's nothing like what you expected, and all of a sudden it's 19 years later and how could you not be disappointed?
Some more things to know about me.
-I have anxiety attacks. Sometimes it's hard to move. Sometimes it's hard to breathe. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it. Deep down, I know it is, but that doesn't stop the wondering.
-I use modeling to cope with body dysmorphic disorder, not because I think it's a viable career. I have a hard time with self-efficacy, but god I just want to make the world a better place.
-Lora Zane talked to us about the importance of authenticity. The only time I feel authentic is when I'm acting. The rest of the time, I feel fake. I used to think it would be so much easier if people just saw me as a piece of ass, that I would definitely be more well liked. But then, I pick up a script or get in front of a camera, and I think, "Could a piece of ass do this?"
I wish I could just feel good about myself, more often than once a day or so. I try so hard to make things good for other people. I want you to be happy. I want you to be successful. I want you to be beautiful, and vivacious, and loved. I want to be a good friend to you. I want to save your life.
I want to save the world.
But I can't even save myself. I will never be enough.
Why is that? I'm just going to keep pushing until I fall apart. It's what I do. I dealt with stress by being all smiles in the daytime, and grinding my teeth so hard at night that they cracked. I burned myself baking food for people that didn't need it, or even want it. I put myself in and unsafe situation and managed to look both gullible and like an asshole in the same space of time.
I scored in the 98th percentile on the SAT. I knew even then that it didn't matter. My parents are proud that I made dean's list. Why can't they be proud that I make art?