To All My Followers ♥

Dear Blog Followers;
I fucking love you all.

I feel strange sometimes, spilling my insecurities and vulnerabilities for all to see. This private monster inside of me has been made public for you to see, and sometimes, when comments are left wishing to be more like me, I feel absolute shame--because I don't want people to want to be this. But I also don't feel good enough to deserve it. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I can never live up to a lot of you. But I think that's the thing, isn't it? Always striving for perfection because everyone else is so much better, never attaining a level where worthiness is felt or a sense that one is deserving of anything.

To get such support, and such an outpouring of love from you guys is...sort of earth shaking, in a way. When I can't breathe, it always seems like someone here is willing to do it for me.

Thank you.

I get confused when I see how many followers I have. I don't even like to look at the number, because I think that if I do, I'll curse it, and no one will like me anymore. It's a weird paranoia, to not brag or revel on good things, like some sort of monster will rise from the depths and take it all away. I'm so scared of losing what I have, that I'm afraid to acknowledge it's even there. I can face the demons in my life head on, but it's the angels I have a hard time confronting.

So my stepmom is doing better. They got her all stabilized, and they discharged her sometime after I went to bed. She's home, and finally asleep, thank god. They still don't know what's wrong with her, but they haven't known for years, and part of me doubts they ever will. I'm still afraid, but fear seems to be the driving force in my life, lately. Fear of getting fat. Fear of losing everything. Fear of trying and not succeeding. Fear sucks.

Also, Flushed made me the most awesome banner, which I'm now using, and sent me the sweetest email in the world. Which, I read yesterday after I had taken a shot of whiskey to try and get rid of my sick. Whiskey, sleeping pills, and sweet-awesome-letters make for a teary eyed PrettyWreck, and I wound up crying like a drunk holding onto my giant carebear and my dog going, "I have such good friends!" before completely passing out and dreaming about friends riding on barstools like they were horses, and stealing facial hair.

Fever+Alcohol+Medication=AWESOME.

But...yeah....
Thank you so much for all of your support.
You guys are amazing.
Flushed is awesome for making me this banner.
And I don't know what I would do without any of you.

♥ ♥ ♥
To better todays and victorious tomorrows,
PrettyWreck