Thinking too much.

My sister is moving across the country in less than a week. She's 8 months pregnant. I worry for her. And I'll miss her. There was a time when we weren't all that close for various reasons, and now we are...it's just sad. But I hope things work out for her and her family. Vegas really is a shithole to raise kids in. She did say that she'll participate in our annual Bastille Day party, though; I have some recipes for crêpes and stuff so she can celebrate there.

I'm alone right now. I think too much when I'm alone. I mean, I can have music going or a movie or whatever, but it always comes back to something more. I feel haunted and empty, like an old house. It's weird, when I feel this way, my first reaction is to switch languages, as if it's safer to talk about things from Before in Spanish or French. I need to get used to saying them in English. I don't know why I have that reaction; it's not as if no one can understand, like it's coded. Anyone who really wanted to know, could know. Just sometimes English feels too open and vulnerable.

A moment of truth here: I'm having a hard time adjusting. Knowing what normalcy is, and trying to live it as if it applied to me. I know: what is normal, right? Normal is being cognizant of reality on a moment-to-moment basis. Not to say I'm psychotic...I'm not. I'm not delusional, and I don't have problems understanding what reality is. But being there for it? That's another story. Honestly, I sometimes think it would be easier to just come out with it. If I were honest with myself and with everyone around me about who I really am, it would take out alot of the guesswork, I think. But I have to remember that there are consequences for our every action. And I don't like the possible consequences. I've found in the past that admitting certain things about myself can be damaging. So I don't.

The interesting thing is this: I often hide the wrong things. There are things I've hidden about myself that would have greatly benefited me had I come forward sooner. And things I have accepted and admitted to myself or openly that have been...let us say, "very bad indeed". And now I struggle with this other side of me, feeling in my heart that I don't want to hide anymore, but knowing intellectually that it's the way it has to be.

I guess it just comes down to the fact that being "different" isn't acceptable.