Only the very arrogant consider themselves good. At least, that's been my experience. Everyone I ever encountered that insisted they were "good" was really just a prick who tried in a half-assed fashion and failed at every turn. It shouldn't be a struggle to do positive things in the world, that's my thought. It seems that those that are, in fact, good, use each and every move to try to be good. Because they want to be, not because they think they are and thus they must act accordingly.

I think I try, but do I think I'm good?

I existed, once upon a time, in a place where deep down I knew that most of my irrational fears were just that. Irrational. Not rational. You know, make believe. It was the same sort of wincing sense of safety I had when I was a little kid and knew there was a god, whatever I said out loud. It's baffling that that rug could be pulled out from under me, really. I think that's the part that has struck me the deepest. The complete puzzling realization that the person I trusted most of all isn't who I thought he was. Or, he is, but what he did changed my perception of him so irrevocably that it doesn't matter.

At the same time it occurs to me that in my unblinking acceptance of perceived infidelity before this point, I had already figured there was no giant S somewhere underneath his skin. But that leads me back to the beginning, doesn't it? I knew it was there. Though of course it never was.

Admittedly I'm not terribly in control of my mouth. You're aware of this, I'm sure. It could also be said I'm not really in control of my brain and that, not surprisingly, causes me a bit more trouble.

It's been truly awful of late, with the rollercoaster of John's career, my job, and this whole general relationship deal. I just can't hold on to a positive feeling for more than a minute or so. Anything at all can deflate it and send me spiralling down. It happens so fast. I think maybe it's really just as bad as it's always been right now, but because it's so important for me to be upbeat I'm noticing it more.

It's quite possibly more of a problem than my social phobia, because I can't afford to be in turmoil all the time. It keeps me awake, it's destroyed my digestive system, and it makes me unpleasant to talk to a lot of the time. The only thing that saves me from being a complete chore is my distinctive ability to fake it.

Maybe there's some sort of pill for this.

I made a terrible terrible mistake. I'm on my last pack of birth control so I figured I'll stop cheating and actually use my off-week for once since I need to get a new prescription after this one. I want to put that off for obvious reasons. Since it's been three months I guess I forgot how completely impossible all these extra hormones make me.

Now I'm intensely focused on things that couldn't matter less and am blowing up things that are only marginally important. And still a week too young to use the curative of booze! Alas and alack.

In other news, one of my best friends just married her 40 year old beau (who I very strongly disapprove of) and plans to have a big fancy ceremony for friends and family next summer. She wants me to be her maid of honor. I don't know how to say no, don't even know if I want to, but how can I fly to texas and stand in support of her relationship? It seems very hypocritical of me and I would hate to be a hypocrite.