Everything is different, but nothing has changed

Last time you and I saw each other, it was May. I had just turned nineteen. I was still three months away from getting evicted, and I was a month and a half into the worst relapse of my life. And hopefully the final one.
A relapse, for me, begins when something bad happens whether I bring it on myself or not. I get scared and I stop feeling. Not only do I stop feeling, but I stop functioning... I no longer go outside, see my friends, socialize, eat, buy groceries, do laundry, check the mail or read the news. I shut down completely and I tend to sleep around like a slut. I lose a lot of weight and I usually stop going to whatever job I have. That's why, since I moved out in February 2010, I've had four or five jobs. It's like I can't keep anything stable in my life. If I were to psycho-analyze myself, pipe in hand, I'd say, "Well, that's because I've never had stability in my life at all."
And that's true. But stability is what I long for. All of my goals are based on stability. It is a core factor in my daydreams.

The only thing spectacular about my relationship with Morris is that, at 13 months, it was the longest one I'd ever had. We broke up because he couldn't trust me and I couldn't take his addiction to video games. I really fucked him over. I couldn't feel anything so I didn't care what I did. The last time I saw him, it was three in the morning in the hall of our apartment. I was holding Oliver in my arms and crying. Morris took Oliver from me, lit a cigarette, and grunted, "Bye."
I asked for a hug, he gave me one with one arm and left. And I felt nothing. I was crying because he took Oliver.
Then my descent began. I still couldn't feel for four or five months; I got evicted in August and left 90% of my stuff behind.
Today, I am couch surfing. I have Kato and two suitcases. I have held one job since my eviction and I quit for some stupid reason. Now I have plans to run away again.

It's only when I write this shit down that I see myself repeating the same patterns over and over again. Throughout all of my journals, it's been this guy that and that guy this. It's gotten to the point where I can no longer trust my own feelings, if I even have them, for fear that they might have some hidden agenda.
Why do I feel the need to run away all the time?

I could tell you that this time it's different. Yes, it's for a guy. Yeah. I met him online.
How long have I known him? Five months.
How old is he? Ten years older than me.
Where does he live? 1,000 miles away in Arkansas.

These are the questions people ask me. Not, "What's his name?" Not, "Does he treat you well?" Not, "Are you in love with him?"

Can you fall in love with someone within five months of knowing them, from 1,000 miles away?
If there is a such thing as soulmates, how do you know when you've found yours?
Would you uproot your entire life for a gut feeling?
Because right now, this is my life: I sit in a tiny blue room all day long. It's causing both Kato and me emotional distress. I stare at the computer all day until I get tired. I write and draw, and sometimes I see my two remaining friends, Eric and Jordan.
That's it. That's all I do.
This is what gives my life meaning:

When all you have to stay for can just as easily come with you, it's kind of hard to sit in isolation and come up with reasons why you should keep torturing yourself when freedom is right at your door.

Let me tell you some things about Scott. Hands down, he is my favorite person. Before him, I had never met someone I could talk to 24/7 for months at a time and still find interesting (and if I had, who's to say that person would still find me interesting, too?). Good things like Scott aren't supposed to happen to bad people like me.
He brings out the silly, stupid romantic in me. He inspires me to draw, write, and tackle the things I want to do. He matches me in every way possible, and he makes me happy without even trying.
I am an atheist, but I could almost believe we were made for each other. We have similar goals, morals, and viewpoints on controversial issues. We enjoy the same weird shit and we have a healthy appreciation for each other's unique interests.
We take super attractive pictures.

I spent ten days with him in November, from the 9th to the 19th, and it felt more natural than anything I've ever done in my life. I am not worried about whether we're going to get married and have kids or whether we'll be together forever, because I don't care about that right now. I'm just happy being with him.
And, yes. Scott treats me well.
Yes. I am in love with him.
No. I do not think I am making the wrong decision. The predictable decision, maybe. Of course I would run away again and put all my money on another guy.
But is that what this is? If Scott is just another guy, then why does he bring out sides of me I've never seen before? Why am I so drawn to him whereas with the others I just desperately clawed at the idea of being with them?
For the first time in my life, I don't feel the need to analyze and over-analyze every little thing my significant other does. I don't feel the need to be someone I'm not. I don't feel the need to pretend to have emotions I don't have.

I'm moving in less than two weeks, on December 18th. I'm bringing my whole world with me, and I don't know for sure that everything will be okay.

But if you had nothing to lose, would you risk it?

Oh

A lot has changed since I wrote last.

Morris and I broke up.
I lost my job.
Morris took Oliver and moved back to Texas.
I met a new guy.
I'm now dating the new guy.

I have no idea what I'm doing.
It's just me and Kato, and that's who I hang out with every day now. I believe if it wasn't for this dog, I'd never go outside, eat, or socialize. Ever.

Or color, I wouldn't color either

To tell you the truth, this is what I've wanted for months. What I want to do, eventually, is give up all my material possessions and travel across the US. And that's hard to do with a now-ex-boyfriend who doesn't like the outdoors, hates socializing, and a small dog who prefers to be inside.
But if it's just me and Kato? We can take on the fucking world.

I'm sure this happened to everyone

So I just watched Titanic. Okay... and? 


And I have never seen it before. Well - I had. In elementary school. At a sleepover. And all I could remember was the part where Rose & Jack run through the halls while they flooded.

Obviously, this was more important than anything else. 

But this time, instead of being 9 years old, I'm 18 years old. And, of course, this is what made an impression on me most this time:

I'm sure Morris would drop me

I've been on a large ship before, also when I was young. My dad was rich, and we took a cruise from Vancouver to Alaska. I thought it was awesome. I wanted to live there, despite the dead seals floating past on occasion and the weird bread sculptures. Seriously, who looks at a lizard and thinks, "I'm going to shape a loaf of bread to look like this"? People on cruise ships. That's who.
I did my fair share of hanging on the railing, watching the sea go by. But I was young. I don't remember much of it. And even though I'm afraid of deep water, I suddenly find myself wanting to live on that ship again, if only for a few nights... as long as Leonardo DiCaprio is there.

Oh... hello.

This is what made me think: the realization that I've never been in love like that before. Most likely because I'm eighteen - but then, what am I doing? Don't I deserve something like that? I do. I totally do. Every single one of you women who saw this movie probably thought something similar afterwards.

I can't write about this right now. Maybe sometime else.
Here's a hurried closing to my half-finished thought...

The reason

Believe it or not, I started this blog for a reason - and it wasn't just to ramble on and on about dogs and CocoRosie.

Go on; I'm fascinated.

I started this blog because I am a terrible person with a horrible past and a bleak future. No, really. Sit down and I'll tell you a story.

When I was a toddler, my mother abducted my sister and I. Have you ever seen those missing child posters in Wal-Mart and on the ads you get in the mail? Yeah, we were on those. In fact, while we were living on the run, I got one in the mail. That's right - I checked the mail and saw my very own face staring right back at me.

I found this on Google. Weird.

We moved away from that house three hours later, paranoid that our neighbors would turn us in. 

But why were we abducted, you might ask? Well, our parents were divorced because my father is an abusive narcissist. And when our mother got us for weekly visitation, we'd tell her weird things like, "Daddy put butter on my butt." Why would a 3-year-old say that? It all kept building up - the bruises, the odd stories, the fear of going back - until my mother informed the police department. 

The police said they couldn't accept the testimonies of toddlers as fact and ignored it. I'm not sure what convinced my mom to leave like she did, but this is how I remember it.

I remember being picked up from our dad's house. Riding on a Greyhound, picking out our new names (mine was Missy and Sierra's was Sara). Getting in a red van and driving for a long time.

I remember living in a trailer park in Wisconsin, with a neighbor named Mrs. Fischer. She was friendly and had fish decorations all over her house. I remember jumping on the bed, singing Christian songs and coloring pictures of Jesus Christ. 

I remember waiting for Pokemon to come on TV in the afternoons. Eating pudding and swimming in kiddie pools. Catching butterflies and "saving" worms from birds in the backyard. Being homeschooled.

I was never afraid, although I knew my life was different from other kids'. My sister was my best friend. My gramma was always there.

I remember having a normal childhood, and being a happy kid with a loving, hard-working mother. So when I tell people I was abducted, and they say, "Oh, how horrible," I feel obligated to tell them the rest of the story. Because in hindsight, the four years we spent on the run were the best years of my life. It was after my mom was caught that my life turned to shit.

But I'll tell you about that later.

Bye-bye, Sandy

I adopted Sandy out to an awesome home today. I knew she would go fast, and to a good home... but I didn't know she'd be gone in four days to the best home I could possibly imagine. Damn. I miss her already.

She went to a couple with an eighteen-month-old daughter. She'll have dog and cat friends and a whole yard to herself. To think that she was dumped on a county road by some asshole early on in life, then lived in a shelter for more than a year... and now she's living it up with a great family who loves her to pieces - that's amazing to me. So, in short: fuck yeah.

We'll miss you, Sandy girl.

Why, yes. That is my braless tit. 

I wish I didn't live in this small apartment. It's kind of stressful to have three dogs at once, especially since I'll be starting a new job on Tuesday. Did I mention that? I found a job. This is the part where I high-five myself. Which is different from clapping. Way different.

I'm going to sleep now. Good night.

I'm a crazy dog lady

A week ago, I got an e-mail from Animal Rescue of the Rockies saying they needed fosters for dogs coming in from Texas. And without asking Morris, I volunteered.

Thus, Sandy came into our lives.

And so did her fleas. But that's alright, Sandy. You know we love you. Especially Oliver, who can be seen lurking in the following pictures.

She had been in the San Antonio shelter since December 24th, 2010, and was understandably terrified when she got here. But since then, she's come out of her shell - and I'm pretty sure she's already got a home lined up for her. Yay! She might be adopted on Sunday. We'll see.

Here's today's song. Haven't been able to get it out of my head for three days.

Let's talk about the weather

Holy fuck, it is nice outside.

I can't believe it got as high as 84° in some parts of the country today; maybe that's because just a few weeks ago, we had snow enough to bury Oliver. Of course, he's only a few inches tall... but still.

I'm not very good at taking pictures, especially since the only camera I have is on my phone. Anyway - here you go, pretend reader.

I may or may not be a crazy dog lady. Anyway, here's today's Song of the Post. Expect lots more CocoRosie in the future. :D