Really I shouldn't. I had an awful day and tomorrow won't be any better since my Hattie will be working ungodly hours since it's the weekend and June. I hate you, Disney. Gimme back mah mooshface.

I kinda wanted to add on from the last entry since I got hit with the 'homg too many werds' message. Which is a good thing, I need to learn when to shut up.

I have a lot of mental disorders, the biggest being my Bipolar II and my anxiety. Also my severe phobia of men. (basically every man I see my brain tells me will rape me, if I'm near one or alone in a room with one I'll hyperventilate and cry) All of my happy little issues smooshed together have made me unable to hold a job (yay disability and for the government labeling me as ******ed) drive a car or basically do much on my own because I'm easily overwhelmed and crack under pressure. I'm difficult to live with, mainly because I cannot control my emotions and I'm heavily influenced by the slightest things. I'll be happy one moment then drop into anger or depression, then get over it two hours later. Sometimes the act of asking a question annoys me and I get angry. It's frustrating and it made me decide when I was about 15 (was not properly diagnosed until I was 18) that I'd just be celibate. I'd crushed on guys but I could not imagine any guy tolerating my spur-of-the-moment paranoia, my bursts of silence, or my temper. Plus, y'know, men scare the crap out of me.

Hattie, when we got to know each other very well at the beginning of the year after just being friends for a while, was very patient with these moods. For a while I'd been nuts after a so-called friend bumped me out her life and she'd sort of been a comfort company more than a real friend, and he just held my hand through it. I'd get mad at something, he'd calm me down. I was insanely happy, he would act as crazy as I was. No matter my mood, he knew what to do even if he was fumbling for an answer. He'd always tell me I was stronger than these problems, the pills would never define me, and it made me feel strong instead of hating myself for something I couldn't control. After we began seeing each other he was even more supportive because we had shared some very personal secrets with one another and were getting more insight to each other. He was being strong to keep me up on my short legs. When he crumbled after his best friend (a girl who had been after him for years and went bonkers when she found out he was seeing me and not her) left him, I returned the favor and picked up the pieces of him and carted him off to put him back together. He was amazed I had done that instead of lording said weakness over him. He's been in bad relationships.

And honestly, he's the first man I'm not afraid of. He's told me things that, I think, any other girl would say 'ok no you're not touching me' to but that he trusts me with that and just for the sheer fact I'm so screwed up nothing he says is foreign to me just nulls the instinct of thinking I'll be raped/hurt/whatever. He's the exception to a lot of rules my life's engraved into me. I'm terrified of planes but I'd hop on one tonight (err...morning?) if it meant seeing him. I've never really wanted to get married (hey, I never thought I'd get a DATE) and I have never wanted kids, but we discussed the possibility of marriage some time down the road and around mother's day he joked about sending me a card saying "this day. 2017. your ovaries are mine." since he knew I didn't want kids but then when the discussion turned serious he shyly admitted to wanting me to be the mother of his child. I was kinda squicky about the idea, but the more I think on it the more I realize that, despite the fact I don't think I'd be a good mother (see: mental problems) I want to, some day, mother his child. (also I'm totally sending him a hand-drawn father's day card like the mother's day card he threatened to send me. He's gonna murder me)

And the REALLY funny thing is, I'm an artist so I've been drawing since I could hold a pencil but I've always had year(s) long 'art blocks' and even out of them wouldn't draw that much. Since we've been together (after my hand healed from my carpal tunnel and cubital tunnel surgery from New Years) I draw every day and produce maybe 2 or 3 finished pieces a week, depending on what they are and so forth. My muse is a six foot something black man who makes his ugly couch talk when we're on webcam. (I HATE THAT COUCH)

Should go to bed. It's 5 am now, my hand hurts from typing, and I'm blinking constantly to stop from headbonking the keyboard.