My search for myself continues. I didn't do much seeking today. But I did have a pretty freaked out dream last night.

I was a witness to a serial killer (a reoccuring theme in my dreams) only he didn't know it. So everytime I saw him, I'd get all freaked out and hide except he didn't know that. So then I ended up in the Police Station and this guy named Greg started protecting me. Then I started flirting with him and I kissed him while we were lying in this bed, which mysteriously appeared in the Police Station. Then the serial killer came into the room and I told Greg who it was and he got arrested... all because I saved the day.

So then, I ended up being really good friends with Greg's sister, then Greg and I ended up falling in love and for once in my life I was in a functional relationship. Too bad it was a dream. Too bad the only guy named Greg I know would never be like that.

What does that dream mean? I obviously want someone to protect me, but why do I keep dreaming of serial killers chasing me? I asked Mr. Hill what that meant once and he suggested that when I was running away from the killers in the dreams, it symbolized me running away from an emotion I was having at that moment. So I want protection from my emotions. Wow, I'm cool. I can't believe I just came up with that. Maybe I should be a shrink.

My GI Joe plan is falling through my fingers like sand. I don't want to do it on most days and on the days I do, I don't know if I can. So that's pretty much another pipe dream. And once again, my future is up in the air.

I'm just sitting around, listening to Everclear. Why is it that I connect better to a bunch of lyrics than I do any human being out there? Am I that emotionally dysfunctional? Probably...

I'm going back to work tomorrow. Semi-normality is invading my life. Just another working stiff. Yet, it's more alive than I've been in months. This depression enduced coma is subsiding.

I haven't taken the Zoloft or Ativan for three days. My mom was pissed. She said I should be willing to sacrifice anything to feel normal again... who says I ever felt normal when I was on them? I just felt like some kind of drugged up loser most of the time. And I felt so guilty for taking them, because of the numerous times I'd said I would never low enough to need drugs. I feel like a fucking hypocrite. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though. But I'm not desperate anymore.

Mom pisses me off so much lately. She acts very self-rightous around me, like she's that much better than me because she's got a nice, firm grip on her sanity. Then she goes around, trying to act like she understands even half of what I'm going through. NO, SHE DOES NOT NOW UNDERSTAND, NOR HAS SHE EVER UNDERSTOOD, WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH. I tried to explain that to her, but she was just like, "But I'm trying." Like that's supposed to make me better. Like that's gonna fix me...

So I guess today isn't exactly one of my better days as of late, mood wise. But I don't give a fuck. That's my attitude towards a lot of shit anymore...

"I swear, if life ever got fair, I'd die of shock." R. Overholt