My morning Saturday walks down down was canceled today.

I think a piece of Hurricane Elsa is lazily floating over my area. It’s been constantly raining for the past three or four hours. Sometimes, lazily, sometimes frantic, but constant. The lack of wind has just let settle here for a while. That’s okay. The crops need the rain. They need the rain until they don’t.

Since Jason and I had sort of a heart-to-heart about the last visit, I’m feeling better about this upcoming one.
In previous posts, I’ve gone expressed the distress I felt last time I was there. This time, which is about a month to a month and a half, I need to set up some boundries and stick to them.

There’s no reason for me to be stuck to Jason for 24/7 like I was last time. He knows I’m there so if I want to wonder off for a couple of hours, it’s okay. It should be okay.

Over the past five years, I think part of our relationship has developed around us missing each other. How can we do that if we’re together from wake to sleep? Moreover, I need to give myself permission to go to the gym or to the park. If I feel like a $5 meal from KFC, I should be able to go and get it.

But, that’s something I struggle with here.
I can’t expect myself to become magically better down there – a place where I spend a lot more money and, hence, become more paranoid.

Still, I don’t like for anyone to buy anything for me. I feel insanely guilty and I like providing for others.

I don’t know. It’s just a vicious cycle. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get out of it.

I’ve been reading a little and I think all of the panic attacks and stress I went through changed the chemical composition of my brain. I’ll never be the same as I was prior. That proudly obstent person I was early in my life that I built my personablity around is gone. That’s why I don’t feel… well without my mind-altering drugs. That’s probably why I’ll never be off of them.

Which is why I need to write more.
Despite what’s going on, I need to devote at least an hour every day to writing. It’s not like I have a lot on my plate right now. I should be able to do so easily. I want to. I’m sure I need to. But, I’m just used to denying myself things. Maybe denying myself writing is part of the overarching problem.

Either way, I need to be more independent and set boundries in Florida.

If I don’t want to go on a Christmas train or a poorly imitated winter wonderland, I shouldn’t. I don’t want to. I don’t want to feel horrible and lacking watching children making s’mores. I don’t want to feel unreasonably angry for not buying garlic pickles. The best way to avoid a week of internal turmoil is not to go.

If I don’t want to spend a Sunday out with Jason’s mom or go to her house for a football game, I shouldn’t have to feel that I need to. If I don’t want to, I shouldn’t. It’s not mandatory. It’s not a requirement of the relationship.

Well, maybe, I can consider it a resurection of my obstenent portion of my personality.

In theory, Jason said that part of the reason why he fell in love with me.

I shouldn’t feel that I owe Jason or his family anything. They don’t owe me. I don’t owe them.
I should fee free to nope out of anything I want. I should also feel free to buy myself a smoothie. I know how that works out.

Anyway, I need to be more me.
Whatever that means. But, I’m going to try harder this trip.