Thick Skin

I just downloaded Sara Bareilles' album Little Voice, you should do the same.

Some things get easier every day and some things just get harder.

One thing I forgot about being at school is how alone it feels sometimes. My close friends are so busy and I often end up feeling like there's no one really REAL out there to connect to. That's the problem with being an artist, particularly in theater, is that people are sometimes so fake. I mean, they're entertaining as fuck, but they are just so...caught up with appearing a certain way, maybe because they feel so vulnerable, I don't know. I just feel very alienated.

I would love to go and see Meg or go out to Queens maybe, but I can't go anywhere. Unless I can afford cabfare which, let me cut the suspense, I can't.

I'm too tired to worry about money. I'm just exhausted all the time. Standing up for 20 minutes completely wipes me out, and I keep pushing myself too hard so that when I lay down at night I'm in too much pain. I've been putting off some of the treatment that my naturopath gave me, I don't know why. I just...is it going to make it any better? No. I'm still not going to be able to walk, I'm still going to be unable to make around and get myself a glass of water or walk to the grocery store and cook something. I just feel paralyzed and so its hard to really care about anything.

I know I told Jason to have hope and courage to see through the pain and I realize I'm being a huge hypocrite...sigh...no I mean I do have hope - in a month, I'll be walking fine, but for now I just feel completely helpless. And I hate hate hate it. I just want to cry every time I want to take out the trash, or set up all the kitchen stuff, or do any number of things that I can't really do.

And I suppose I saw it coming but no one can help me by going up to Harlem and supervising the movers tomorrow, so I'm gonna have to take a cab up there and then take a cab back and do all of it myself. I'm hoping it goes fine. We'll see. I mean I don't really have a choice at this point.

I miss Jason, so much. He gives me some kind of courage I just can't get anywhere else. Its hard to summon that feeling from 3000 miles away but I guess I'll have to try for a while. That's the only thing that got me up to 93rd street the other day to get my wheelchair.

I'm just dreading tomorrow. I shouldn't, I should be positive.

It'll be fine. It'll be great. I'll have all my stuff and I will be able to sleep on my own sheets and comfy bed. That will be nice. Ok. I can do this.