Good Memories Make You Pathetic

I think I've cracked.  I keep crying and sleeping and crying and sleeping.  Yeah, even after such a "good night" I'm cracking the hell up.  I even cry in public Wal-Mart, in the faculty lounge, on the bus, and then I get sleepy.

What makes me sad?

Good memories.

The problem I have is that I only remember the good times.  For example, I only have 2 exes that I don't speak to anymore.  I still keep in touch with everyone else and I remember what good friends they were and how much fun we had and blah blah blah.  When I think about my 7 months in Small Town, Oregon, I remember how quaint my neighborhood was, how cute my townhouse was, the scrapbook store where I would go crop and how I knew everyone at the airport.  I start reminiscing and get sad and cry....completely ignoring the times when I was bored out of my mind and wished I had fellow divas to hang out with.  Or how I hated the small mall and the times when they'd close the highway and I'd have to find an alternate route home.  Don't  even get me started on working 70-80 hours a week!

I remember when we first moved to Chicago, we stood in the back door watching it rain with no clothes on.  Oh day my husband cooked dinner in an apron, boots, and a hat....funny as hell.  I remember laughing a lot.  I remember how I felt when he proposed and how good Christmas Dinner was at the Sahara in Vegas.

When I lived in Oregon, I heard creepy noises one night and couldn't sleep. I called my husband and he talked to me on the phone all night until it was time for me to go to work.  I don't have any happy memories right now so I keep thinking about all of my old good memories and I get sad because those days are gone.

I get sad because it's cold outside.

I remember the first time my husband took me to a drive in movie.  I was excited to be doing something new.  As a matter of fact, I have good memories of our entire trip to Atlanta

You know what else scrambles my mental process?  I wake up every feeling as though I don't have a purpose each day.  I've gotten past thinking I need to have a job to go to everyday.  I've been enjoying making my own way these last few weeks.  So I know that I need to make my own purpose but it doesn't happen.  I wake up in the morning and feel like I'm a waste.  I'm a cold, lonely, waste who can't let go of the good memories of my past.

They don't allow phone calls in mental institutions but when I finally crack and they put me away, will y'all write me letters?


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