She belongs to me
I’m listening to “She belongs to me” by Bob Dylan which is fun because I haven’t heard it in forever.
The version is different.
The theme seems odd.
I am not that girl anymore. But someday….
Maybe tomorrow when I wear my swank party dress to all the new years eve parties?
I went out to Burnett’s mound yesterday. It was a really good idea. Just being able to look at everything all small, even if it is a beautiful view of a ugly part of town. Oh my my. I mostly just looked and sat and talked and took lots of beautiful pictures. I really like my new camera. I’m almost glad that the girl at Best Buy was a total bitch to me so I had to replace the camera I was returning in store. I just love me some Kodaks. And my brand loyalty is intense.
Later, maybe I will knit and explore the side of me that is an artist. I’m excited about what I’m doing in my life. I’m excited to be able to share it. It’s nice to work on de-isolating myself… even if I’m sort of bad at that.
Outpatient therapy is really great… I like it a whole bunch, though it’s kinda bullshitty and it makes me angry when I see myself living that way in normal life. I don’t know. I guess I’ve just never looked at everything I’m about to do as a potential trauma which is sort of what I feel like I’m supposed to do there. And I guess it does make sense. I was there all day yesterday and I even participated fully in the exercise group. Hooray! And I threw around a football with the other guy there who is anything close to my age. He’s gone there now… so even though he didn’t talk much cos it was his last day… i’m a little nervous about the rest of group because I really feel like my experiences are different than most of the other people. It’s like a long drawn out converseation with multiple personalities of my mom. heh. But I think that’s enlightening. And I think I learn things about myself on the contrast… which maybe isn’t my favorite way to learn them… but still. I’m learning them none the less. And I’m learning coping mechanisms which is very good.
Mom appears to be going through my room again. I’m going to go relieve her of the duties so that I can just get it all done.
Oh bother.
I’m still struggling with the trauma of being admitted as an inpatient. I don’t know how to talk about it. I don’t know if I should talk about it. I don’t want people to know. But i want to tell everyone.
I feel ashamed that I’m ashamed of it.
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This is weird to me, because I was talking about Burnett’s Mound the day before you wrote this, and I have never even been there. The conversation was me saying to Roger that I didn’t know where it was.