Young Writers Society

**Read the first two parts to understand the sequence of events or read this as an excerpt from someone's diary** Also I did not intend for part three to be so long and that is why it kind of leaves off at a weird pause** 

12/2/18

So it's officially December. I don't know if I still have a boyfriend or not. I know that Mason went to Kentucky and I tried to talk to him before he left and he didn't want too. I know that I tried texting him yesterday and he never responded. I know that I fucking miss him, and I don't like that feeling because I haven't had it in such a long time. I told myself not to catch feelings, but I think I fucking did. Fuck.

He's suppose to come back Monday, and I don't know if I should text him again or not. Should I ask his mom to text him for me? Should I just wait for his next move? What if he's like thinking never mind this bitch is crazy and wants nothing to do with me? Ugh, this is so stressful and it never was meant to be. I like to think I have enough leverage to wait it out and he'll come crawling back, but I don't think that's the case.

Listen. I told myself to not catch feelings because I didn't foresee this being a forever thing, but maybe that's my problem, and why I've been single for the last twenty-five years. I fucking can't deal. I hate being single, and I know it's because I look like a fucking walrus, but sometimes I wish someone would fall in love with me, help me be a healthier version of the person they fell in love with and catch up on the glow up, like is that too much too ask for?

I want someone to invest in me, teach me, help me grow. To be honest, and I may have already said this, but I want someone to fall on their knees before the God that saved my life and pray for me. Pray for me when they can't stand me and need some extra patience to be with me. Pray for me, that my dreams come true, and that I continue to be filled with passion and grace.

Somewhere along the line I forgot how to have compassion and feelings for someone maybe because it has been so long or because I lost hope in humanity, but I want someone to come along and reignite that. I don't know if Mason was meant to be that person or not, but it was fun to pretend he was.

After this argument and getting my family involved, which I wish they wouldn't have butted in, even if Mason and I are still a couple I don't think I can ever have him meet my family again. Like, my dad might shot him, my cousin hates him, and there fore gave up on me because I stuck up for him. My aunt thinks he's a coward, and I have no idea where my mom stands, although if you ask her everything's probably my fault anyway.

I talked with Jenny a few nights ago, and she wasn't as mad as I originally thought she'd be. She basically told me that we were adults and what we do in our free time is our business; she just didn't like how everything happened. I can respect that, but I tried to share the blame with Mason, and let her know that my intentions were good.

Now that most of the is taken care of I still have to figure out what I am going to do about a car. I had a very nice rental car, and to be honest if I had the money I'd buy it back right now. But, I don't. So, I am stuck paying four hundred dollars for my dad's friends Tracker. A small chevy's version of a jeep. It feels as though it's falling apart with every inch it takes down the road. I fell like John Candy in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles while I drive it. It very well may flip over as I drive, and everyone is saying it's the best kind of car to have in the winter. I highly doubt that. The first time I hit ice and I'll be back at square one, but this time I'd probably be hurt. If I hit anything in this, I'm dying. That's how tiny this thing is.

Seriously. I am too afraid to drive it. I feel like homeless not having a reliable car. I miss just being able to walk out the door and driving off. I trust all my other cars, even in bad weather. I think I am just going through some PTSD, but seriously I need to trust this tiny piece of shit to get me to and from work until I can afford some thing else and it's the holidays and I was planing on moving out and I just feel like I was doing so good, and got knocked down a few thousand feet.

God, what do you have to say about all this? Like, if I could talk to you and see my future from now i'd be in heaven. Hahaha, see what I did there? Any who, for real, I'd love to finally see myself not struggling. Not in need. Not dependent on anyone. That's the worst thing in the world I think, to be dependent on others to strive in life.

While we're talking about things that stress me out in life, everything, let's talk about this training I have to go to in like four hours. It's not even that I'll be at work for a total of sixteen hours, it's that I get so fucking nervous about being watched on how to restrain another human being, like being tested on it, and I have to take this training with all the people at work who are good at it, and will be flying through it like there's nothing to it. But I have a terrible memory, and there is something to it! I get so much anxiety just thinking about it. I fucking can't deal. It makes my head hurt, my body shake, and I literally want to cry and vomit at the same time.

But, I need it for work, well I did before I was pushed onto third shift, and now like I don't really need it. Seriously, the boys are asleep almost the whole shift, and I don't envision anyone waking up angry enough to need to be restrained. Am I in the right career field? Like, I enjoy my job. It's something different everyday, I feel as though I have the possibility to make a difference in someone's life, and when it gets down to it, it's all about the brain and the way it processes things. Social work is interesting, and being a therapist is beyond fascinating with wondering how people heal from trauma and what not, but is it for me?

I have had this problem since I was in high school, and you would think ten years later I wouldn't still be struggling with the same Goddamn question! What should I be doing with my life? I literally don't know what my strengths are, and I have no idea what my passion would lead towards. Like, I don't think God made me with a career in mind. I think He thinks it's fucking hysterical that I have to figure it out.

I know I made this to talk about Mason and relationship problems, but I am beyond that now. I need life advice, and somehow typing away at this computer until I figure things out is working, so I am going to keep doing it.

Let's go back to Mason for just a fucking second. Should I text him again or not? How long should I wait for him? I really do miss him, and I would probably settle just being friends. I wonder what he's told his friends about me, and I wonder if they're talking to him like Danny was talking to me. I wonder if he has any idea how I feel. I wonder what he's feeling. Was he just using me? I'm so confused, and it's not a good feeling. I need to know so much, and yet my pride doesn't want me to talk to him. I think it's my pride's fault on not texting him a second time too. I mean he said he'd be back Monday, so I'll probably just text him when I leave work to see how things went in Kentucky. To make sure he made it back safe.

I don't even know why I like him. I don't know what draws me to him. Gosh, I am so naive, or gullible or desperate. I don't know. If I could read Mason's mind on just this one thing I'd give my soul, like I need to know that bad.

Wait, would I really give my soul, or am I just being dramatic? Mykeal said I was so fucking extra, but he's my gay best friend, so he's suppose to say shit like that, I think. I need to reevaluate my life, and Mykeal thinks that so extra, like no bitch my life is a fucking mess right now. Twenty-five years of complete shit decisions and people intervening. For once, I want Jesus to come down to Earth and show me exactly what I am suppose to be doing because I don't think it's this. I don't think Jesus wants me in this current predicament. Or maybe he does to teach me a life lesson, but I am hard headed and don't learn well. Spell it out for me please.

Once again. I have asked God to spell my life out for me so many times in the last twenty-five years. I don't think I have ever had enough control of my life to dictate what I should be doing and when. Seriously, I am surprised I survived outside of the womb. What happened to my problem solving skills or my independence or my ability to be sure of myself? I'm not okay, and it's okay to not be okay, but it's all about the execution of how you get back up and stand on your own two feet and I am butchering that completely.

12/4/18

I feel like I always start this entries off with the word so, but it just fits, so here it is. I talked with Sarah and Mason on the phone tonight. A million other things happened yesterday, but they're not worth mentioning first. Also, I haven't slept in like three days, so this is a little hard to type.

First I was talking to Jenny and I asked her if she had heard from Mason, and she said she hadn't and that she was worried, so he wasn't just not answering me last night. While she was on the phone with him, she text me letting me know his phone is only getting incoming calls and that he wanted me to call him. I got anxious, but I did anyway because I actually missed him.

His voice was bright and cheery on the phone. He explained about his phone, and said he missed me too and that he saw my messages and felt bad that he couldn't answer them. I asked him if he had fun on his trip and he said he did and that it was warm and they went hiking and that he had so many videos to show me. He also informed me that he is getting a new bed, and offered me to take a nap in it after work, no funny business attached. I don't think he'd ever force me to have sex, but I don't even like hearing him say that I don't have too. One day I will get over that fear, but not today.

He said he missed hugs and kisses, and I did too. I missed his embrace, and his giddiness. He asked about Danny and whether I had heard from him or not. To be honest, I didn't want to tell him everything Danny because I already knew how hurt mason was by everything Danny said, and it was all my fault. I should have known better than to introduce them. I told him that Danny was mad at me for still talking to him and that if I got hurt Danny didn't want to know about it. That basically I am on my own, and that is scary. If I told someone that I no longer had a protector, would they always just take advantage of me than? Seriously... Danny pisses me off, but I think if I was in actual trouble he would come to the rescue.

We ended the phone call with the customary I miss you, and hung up. I can't wait for the day he actually says I love you, like to my face. I'm a romantic, but the logical side of me knows that it won't be even a tad magical. He might even be distracted by video games as he says it, and that right there will be perfect. I wonder if you're waiting for me to say it first, and I have to tell you, that's never going to happen. I've been burned too many times. Everyone knows the boy has to say it first, and I can wait forever.

It's times like these that make me wonder when my parents first said I love you to each other, probably a make up after a fight. Fist closed and pots swinging.

I wish I could nap with you right now. I am so tired, and today's the worst day to be tired. Restraint training day.

We can talk about SCM some other day.

12/5/18

So I passed the fucking training, which I knew I would but I get so much fucking anxiety it literally makes me want to vomit. Mr. John is a great teacher. So, I'm going on my third coffee, second energy drink, and seven hours of sleep. I feel like shit, especially since I was late to work, and I wasn't the only one late, so second shift wasn't super happy. Oh well. I'm fucking exhausted. I don't even remember the last time I actually got eight hours of sleep in a row.

When I got out of work today at one thirty, I went straight to Mason's house. I laid in his lap and fell asleep. He asked me if I was okay and I was just like I'm sorry I know you wanted to spend time together, but I need sleep. So, he brought out his television, and I slept in his lap for a total of four hours. In those four hours I was in and out of consciousness trying to watch a movie with him. He's great. His kisses are great. Being with someone is great, and I have to be careful that that's not the only reason I want to be with Mason. I had a lot of fun today just snuggling with him on the couch watching movies. I mean I couldn't think of a better way to spend my time.

I really wanted him too. I laid on the couch and counted the seconds between each passionate kiss, and I wanted more. My hands slowly and secretly roamed every inch of his body they could reach, and I'm pretty sure he had to try real hard not to react to each touch. But, I wanted him too. I wanted him to give in and kiss me everywhere. I wanted him to push on top of me and take control. He didn't, and I don't know why.

He wasn't high either. He didn't have pot around, and he didn't talk about smoking it. I don't know if he's respecting my wishes or has just learned to do it in private when I'm not around. I told him I want him to be honest with me always. I do not at any time ever want there to be any secrets between us, but I think there already is and if I ask him about again he'll probably get mad. But, what else am I suppose to think when you are living alone in a house with your ex-girlfriend and you tell me she said what someone doesn't know won't hurt them? I mean you said you ignored her, argued with her and went to bed alone, but I don't know if I believe you. She's attractive; she's tiny, and she's willing to have sex with you. There has to be a reason why you are able to wait to have sex. You have to be getting somewhere else, and I know that is negative of me to think, but seriously I've never known a guy to not want sex ever. I have definitely shown signs that I was interested, and you never do anything about it. The other day on the phone you said you could wait years like a camel, but can you?

Sidebar, it's snowing outside, and I am not ready for bad weather to come yet. I need a car. I haven't bought Christmas presents yet. I feel overwhelmed, and under appreciated. I am consistently and constantly tired, borderline exhausted, and I can never get enough sleep. I am worried, anxious, and need a vacation, but I can't afford it. There was a car I wanted, but someone snatched it up already. I know I just have to save up and keep looking, but I'm tired. Life is overwhelming, and I have no healthy coping skills to deal with it. I can talk to Mason, but do I really want to scare him off with every little thought that drives me crazy? I am getting use to using this journal kind of like an outlet, but it feels silly. Like, who is ever going to read this, if anyone? I certainly do not want to go back and read about all the ways I've fucked up and how anxious I was.

I need time away. I need to book myself an independent vacation, where I stay at a hotel by myself, go to some theaters or museums or plays. That reminds me I want to go to the Ohio theater with Mason and see the live version of the little mermaid; it's always been my favorite disney movie. So, like I think I shouldn't have picked up Thursday second shift, but there's no going back now. Fuck.

12/5/18

After much needed ten hours of sleep, I feel so much better. I can't keep doing that to myself. My body needs sleep and so does my sanity. I forgot to mention that I think Mason said I love you as he got out of my car yesterday, but I didn't hear him clearly and I didn't answer and it happened all so fast that I couldn't register what was happening. I wish I would know for sure if he did or not because I want to say it so bad. I don't know why, but every time I see him it'd on the cusp of my tongue, and I am afraid at any moment it's just going to come flying out of my mouth.

I hung out with Jenny a little before work, and Mason hooked her up with one of his friends. Gypsy is his name and he is so cute. She ask me for advice, but like everything I usual do is wrong, so I always tell her to go with her gut feeling unless that feeling is based on pure emotion because I feel like that's always my problem the regrets I have come from decisions I made purely on emotion and not using my head.

I mean I'm not a very logical person, but if I only made decisions based on my fleeing emotions that change every five seconds I'd be up a creek without a paddle, but it all reality I am up a creek without a paddle so maybe I do rely on my emotions too much.

My main goal tonight is to actually do my job without any slacking off. I get too lazy and rely on simple just staying awake, but that's doing bare minimum. Seriously, I have to start getting use to going above and beyond if I want to earn my spot as a supervisor and to get off of third shift. I do not enjoy working third shift. I don't know if I can do this long term. I want to work active shifts again because this whole third shift business makes me feel like nothing more than a janitor, and don't get me wrong being a janitor is honorable work because you're doing the work no one else wants to do, but at the same time I could be a janitor anywhere else, and not here with high risk boys. I work here because I want to make a difference in the way they view the world and how they operate within society; I don't think I'm doing that by cleaning their bathrooms and doing their laundry.

So, I'm going to try and get as much as I can done while I still have this much energy, and hopefully towards the end of the shift I can just sit in here and relax until I have to wake up the boys for school, which to be honest is probably the most enjoyable part of my job, but I don't know how to express it. Laughing because in part I just said being called a bitch and yelled at because I have to be their alarm clock is the best part of my job, but seriously, I do enjoy actively communication with the boys, and showing them that not everyone is an asshole.

Another thing before I go, it's so annoying that Mason's phone is off. I want to talk to him. I want to text him, and I continuously forget that his phone's not working, but I am not just popping up over at his place because on the off chance that he's not home and Brittany, I might fight her. That skank needs to keep her hands to herself, and if I walked in on him and Brittany fucking I think I would go temporarily insane and end up on an episode of Investigation Discovery.

I have such bad trust issues; I wish he wouldn't have told me what she said. I already didn't like her because she makes me feel insecure. I mean- when I told Mason I think she's pretty than me all he said was why put someone above yourself, like because that's how the world works buddy. Sigh. His innocence kills me some times. I remember being twenty-one and I wasn't half as sure of things as he is. I guess I should get to work, but I don't want too. Like, I already froze my ass off trying to lock the fucking gate.

Let's talk about that gate because it's annoying as hell. It took me a good fifteen minutes in the cold to lock it, and then Mr. Scott comes driving around the corner. So, I had to unlock it and let him out then lock it again. Which doesn't sound half as bad as it was. My hands were freezing, I had to touch freezing metal to get it aligned, which is terribly because it doesn't align correctly and takes a minute to do; and then, I just don't like the gate okay. Something that stays open for ten years shouldn't have to be shut and locked just because someone tried to steal our AC unit. I say we shot all trespassers and leave their bloody clothes as a warning to others. A little dark humor for who reads this.

I have wanted to be an author since I was ten years old, and it'll be really fucking funny if I get this published and my dreams come true because of you. Mason. You are like a dream in and of itself. Seriously, what happened in the universe that it thought we should be together?

Also, I was cleaning with bleach and now it's on my fingers and I think the smell is giving me a migraine. I should go wash my hands. Theres also a whole list of things I should do, like make sure the break rooms clean, check on the boys and employees, switch out the laundry, and charge this damn computer, but I am too tired and distracted. I think I really do have attention deficit disorder. Or the bleach is seriously getting to my head; I can't decide.

It's currently two in the morning, and I only have five more hours of work, but I can't help but dream of my bed. I have to work a double tomorrow, and I am going to be so exhausted. It's also going to feel really weird working an active shift. I really should have thought about it before I agreed to work it. When I got the email about working a double on my day off I looked up at Mason and asked me if I should work it and he asked me if I was crazy. I laughed, but seriously who works sixteen hours on their day when they have people they'd rather be with on their days off? He puts everything into perceptive. I do work too much, but I do that because other than being on time and never calling off, I'm not stellar at my job. So, I try to look good at other things like picking up shifts, doing things I necessarily don't have too, and going the extra mile when others won't.

I always thought I could never do the whole journal thing because it's redundant to write about things that have already happened, but I seriously think this is the best thing that has happened. I just never want to read the words that I've put down. I am not even sure if any of this makes any sense, if the words are spelled correctly, or if I've made any mistakes. I also don't want to re-read it because I hate seeing all of my vulnerability and emotion on these pages. I don't like feeling them as is; I definitely don't want to feel them again as I read them. I mean that's why I hate embarrassing, sad, or dramatic scenes in movies, because I feel all those things so intensely as it is.

I wonder if other people are that way. I mean I have heard of empaths but I don't think I'm one of those. I struggle with showing compassion and having understanding for others. I'm not necessarily the nicest human being. I struggle to build relationships and create meaningful connections. I think I was born that way and my parents just beat the rest of it into me.

Something that has been on my mind today is how am I making things better. I mean we should be consistently trying to do our best to make things better in the world, in the work place, in our personal lives, in our relationships, in our faith, but unless I'm intentionally thinking about it, I'm not doing it. The whole reason I work in social work is to help people become productive citizens in society and to be better people in general, but am I even doing that for myself?

Guess I am about to chug my redbull that I didn't finish last night, and keep chugging away at work. Although, there's not that much left to do except to take the trash out, and I hate doing that because it's gross and tedious. I mean can't the other shifts just have the boys do that? Because, if the boys are still taking the trash out at ten at night there should be no reason the trash needs taken out again at five in the morning. Except if there's a bug in the trash, then by all means set that bitch on fire. Seriously. Fucking stinkbugs. And spiders.

Also, I need to find an appropriate playlist for work. Akon singing about smack that all on the floor and Drake singing about you being the best is not going to cut it. Country music is not that much better. Rascal Flatts singing about you can take it if you want it is not necessarily giving a message about consent.

12/7/18

My feelings are a little prematurely hurt. But, hear me out. I haven't seen or talked to you since Tuesday and it is now Thursday night technically Friday morning. When I asked if you wanted to hang out on my only day off which is Friday, YOU said no. Like your phone's not working, so I can't even converse with you, and now you don't want to see me. And, you already know I'm jealous and self conscience of Brittany.

I might just be in my feelings. I'm sure my period's coming soon. And, work is stressing me out because I feel like nothing I do is ever good enough. I don't want to do just the bare minimum, but I also don't want to set the bar because I won't be able to keep up with that standard all the time, and then I'll be even more stressed out.

I worked an active shift today, and I'm not gonna lie it definitely felt good to be apart of an active team and to hang out with the boys at work. I think that I might pick up more second shifts, but first shift will never be an option.

I enjoy typing, but sometimes I run out of things to type about, but this is my damn word document, so I can type about anything. Right? Okay so interrupting to my thought process. I need sleep so bad that I think my eye is twitching from drinking too much coffee and energy drinks. And, I just tried using the work computer mouse on my own personal computer and didn't know why it wasn't working.

Seriously, I think I keep the energy drink companies in business year round, and working third shift doesn't help at all. I wonder what it does to my body like legit, isn't it suppose to give you a heart attack? Or like it must effect my brain. I mean I use to smoke fucking crack every day and not sleep for weeks and then crash for a total of twenty four hours. I'd love to see what the inside of my body looks like. I'm sure it hates me, and if it could talk it would be suicide. Too bad bitch I already tried that and I was never successful.

Also, another thought, maybe Mason doesn't want to hang out because he thinks I'm going to make him come to Recovery group or maybe he thinks I won't go without him and I did ask him to help keep me accountable or maybe he is legit busy with working in the garage or something, worse case scenario he blew me off for weed or Brittany, and I think I would definitely lose my shit if that was the case, so maybe I shouldn't know.

What would I do if I ever caught him cheating on me? I didn't think I'd catch feelings this fast, and I definitely didn't think I would get this jealous. Goddamn it I need to go to the gym. I am tired of being fat, and I am tired of feeling less than other women. I don't want to give him any reason to look at someone else. But, I also have no motivation to take care of myself. Like let's face it for the last twenty five years i've just been waiting to die. I'm just riding out this life thing, not really caring that it's definitely crashing and burning.

Self care is so fucking hard. Like you have to get adequate rest. You have to do proper hygiene. You have to eat nourishing things and not junk. You have to look and feel presentable. You have to be on time to things and be good at small talk. My self care would involve a double sized bottle of tequila and a dark silent room. I want to be alone in the quiet with alcohol, so I can't remember anything.

Listen, self-care should be a fucking college crash course because in reality whose parents had time to teach them self care? My parents never practiced self care and I think my generation is driving self care directly into the ground and the generation after me is trying to revive it with all these manis and pedis and fucking shopping spree meanwhile they are going into debt, so does self care mean going in debt or is self care ensuring you don't have debt?

Also, ten hours of sleep in a week is pretty decent for me, so ten hours of sleep in one day is like golden. So, is self care relative? Or is there a general standard we all have to follow? Like, eight hours of sleep a night is healthy but do I have to do that for self care because if that's the case, I need to have doctors out the ass and be on some serious medications to go to sleep and to wake the fuck up.

What self care means to me is that I don't drop dead from exhaustion and poor eating habits during the week, I try to catch up on all the other things during the two days I have off, and if I somehow get laundry done a bath in and cuddle time then I won, but let's be honest with ourselves, I don't even remember the last time I had two days off intentionally. Work is constantly looking for people to pick up shifts and I am not afraid of overtime unless my heart explodes from not sleeping, but you know I'll just have to deal with the consequences then. And, I know it's not just me because this is my generation: a bunch of overworked people trying to seal away debt or trying to live the unrealistic American dream. Fuck All Of That. Seriously.

If I ever have kids, I want them to be okay with being themselves, and I want to teach them how to be assertive so they aren't stuck doing other peoples work or being exhausted because they can't tell their boss no, and on that note Mason told me not to pick up extra shifts this weekend, but now he doesn't want to hang out, and I forgot to go tell Brandon because I definitely want his advice on such things. I can't believe this is Brandon's last night at Hittle House. Like, I legit love working with me, and you know how it goes you promise each other you'll stay in touch, but it never fucking happens, and now I am depressed. I need fucking more friends. Not just a distant boyfriend and gossiping co-workers.

Speechless. It's not something I usually can convey unless I'm in trouble or in shock. I just have verbal diarrhea like ninety percent of the times. And, speaking about that, Jenny called me while I was at work and she never does that! So, I called her back on my break and she was upset, and I couldn't comfort her because I was at work, and sometimes that's what I hate most about picking up shifts I don't normally work; not being able to be there for my friends when they need me. I told her we could talk about it tomorrow and she was okay with that, but also I can tell this all lusting thing and wanting a boyfriend and talking to different guys at the same time is like probably slowly killing her.

But, I have no advice to give. I only have a boyfriend because she had sex twenty two years ago and had a son. And, she gave him my number. Literally the only reason. So, I think I should be the last person she consults, but for some reason I think she trust me, which is also a red flag. Don't trust me. I'm shady as fuck. I don't even think Jesus trust me and He trust Judas. Come on you know that was funny.

But seriously, I don't even trust me. I wrecked my car with her son in it. Since we've met I have went back to my addictions multiple times without telling her, and she still thinks I am an honest person. I enjoy being bluntly opinionated, but I don't think that qualifies as being an honest person who is trustworthy. Do you?

You know what's funny, this is suppose to be a diary entry, but a lot of times I start asking questions and talking as thought someone is actually going to read this piece shit. No one is going to read this. It'll turn to dust from whence it came after we all die. These words will only live in my head and on these pages for my eyes to read only, and that's okay because let's be honest if someone knew the inner making of my brain they would go temporarily insane.

I never know how to end these entries, and I usually don't but sometimes I think it would be cool to have a sign off. Some thing like, until next time shit for brains. Or, We Are Dead. Get it? Like We Are Marshall? Maybe I am too dark?

I cannot wait until I get home and sleep for hours in a cold bed, with fluffy blankets, a fan going for noise, and possibly Netflix. I gotta remember to finish Big Mouth season two. I am so glad Danny gave me his Netflix password.