Dear Kim,

I've decided to keep going to therapy. I'm not going to let one awful session ruin my whole recovery. It wasn't her fault that I had pent up feelings of frustration and anger that needed to come out. The hard fact is that I have Boderline Personality Disorder, it is part of every facet of my life, and I have to fucking deal with it. I don't want to, I want that one magical cure, and the meds have helped tremendously, but I still have so far to go. I have this massive thing that I have to deal with and I just.. I don't want to. I want it to completely go away with a pill and that's not how it works.

Anyway, I'm moving on and continuing with therapy and it's going to be hard and I'm going to hate parts of it but that's what it's going to take for me to get better.

I've also come to terms with the fact that my job means working alone. Did I ever tell you I'm scared of being alone/abandoned? I am, terriblly. I'm also scared of the dark like a big baby. At first, working here was super hard. Imagine being the only person (not really, but it feels that way) in this massive building and there are a ton of windows and at night it's all dark outside and it terrified me. I took a lot of Vistaril those first days alone. Now, though, it's better. I've come to terms with it and I just had to work through my fear. I am still scared of the dark and of being alone, but not at the hotel anymore. I feel safe here, which is a nice thing to have.

I still haven't heard from Chris. I miss him. I miss him terribly. The last time we talked I was in the hospital and he was irritated about something and I just wish I had known it was the last time we would talk. I liked him a lot. I thought so much all the time about breaking up with him, concocting hundreds of ways it wouldn't work out or that we should be with other people or god knows what. I spent hours upon hours imagining breaking up with him, that he (or I) deserved better and that it wasn't meant to be. But now that I've lost him, I realize I miss him. We had a really good thing going. Maybe it wasn't perfect, he was kind of hard to talk to, but he was a good boyfriend. I don't think I loved him or anything, but I did like him quite a bit and I wish he hadn't disappeared.

La ti da. What else. Not a whole helluva lot is going on. I'm at work (again) blogging to you (again) and doing (even more) laundry. I'm currently taking one of my breaks from the laundry because there's not a whole lot else to do around here. I could go clean, but I don't really feel up to it right now. There's nothing to clean, really.

Last night I could not fall asleep, I kept having bits of stories pop up into my head. I should gotten up to write them down but I just wrestled with them in my head for a while before I could finally fall asleep. I think I should be a writer, maybe someday, not sure. I love writing, obviously (looks around the blog) I do, but who knows. I don't know if I'm up for it. It takes a lot to be a writer. Lots of committment and you know me, committmentphobe all the way. It's a miracle I made it 2 months with Chris, that's how bad I am at committing. (Keep in mind I've been -committed- Lol. I still think it's funny.)

I kind of miss being in the hospital with the other crazy people. I loved it there. If only the walls were thicker and the rooms were singles instead of double.  You could never be totally alone there. That's why I loved talking on the phone, you could actually be alone in the phone booth.

I remember once when I completely lost it the day before I was supposed to go home. I couldn't find a quiet place in the entire wing. There were people in my room talking that I didn't want to kick out, the TV room and the reading room were occupied. The dining area had all sorts of people talking and making noise and there was nowhere quiet to go. I asked one of the nurses if I could sit in one of the meeting rooms and was promptly told to go find "my" nurse, who was off doing god-knows-what and I frigging lost it. I just sat down in the hallway and started bawling my eyes out because I just wanted somewhere quiet to run away to and there was so much noise I couldn't handle it. I sat there sobbing for about 5 minutes before anyone stopped to notice and then ran and got my nurse and she scolded me for sitting in the hallway, seriously. I wanted to scream at her, but it wasn't exactly her fault, so I didn't. She went and kicked the people out of my room and I laid in bed and breathed deeply for about 2 minutes and then I was fine. My roommate felt bad for having people in there, but I insisted it wasn't her fault and we just sat there and talked for a while.

Good. Times.


Anyway, I love you. You should make me another video.

Love,
Alexandra

Dear Kim,

I am tired. I am so tired that I could easily fall asleep at this very desk and only be woken up by an angry guest ringing our bell or my boss coming in to yell at me for falling asleep. I guess working until 11 the night before doesn't bode well for working at 7 a.m the next day.

Also, I am cold. Freezing, Actually.

So I'm tired and cold and trying to keep myself awake by reading, which isn't helping and all I want to do is go home and go back to bed. I was supposed to be working with my boss this morning but he's sick and staying home. I have a therapy appointment at 10, so hopefully I can get Roderick to cover for me.

Sorry all I talk about anymore is work. It's all I have going on.

_____________________


So I had my therapy appointment and she !@#$%^& made me cry. I was in there, perfectly fine, and then she had me in tears. She made me feel not fine and she made me feel sick and I hated it. She made me feel like everything was not okay, and that I wasn't doing well and she made me feel like this was false hope and that I was going to be miserable again. Like being borderline is this curse.

No, I do have my shit together. I got a job, I'm going to pay off my debts, then when I get it all figured out I'm going back to school. I will not slip as low as I used to be. Never again.

Anyway, so yeah. That really upset me. I was bawling by the time I got back to my car and then I had to go back to work.

Fortunately my boss let me go early because I looked tired. My eyes were all red and droppy from crying. I came home and slept for a few hours. Now I'm here, writing to you.

I don't know much of what else to talk about. I wish I hadn't gone to therapy. She was hard on me because of the decisions I've made and I don't think today was useful at all. It just made me feel bad.

Love,
Alexandra

Okay, you guys, if there are any of you out there - This is no longer a blog but a list if letters to my best friend Kim.

Dear Kimberly Joy,

I love you.

And also I am bored. There's not much going on in the life of a hotel's front desk person. I'm telling you, there is nothing. I check a couple people, maybe, in. I do some laundry. Check the chemicals in our pool. Sit in front of a computer.

I sit here and think about things like putting hot cocoa in my coffee or shaving my arms and those are weird thoughts to have together, Kim. It makes my brain weird.

(Much like your viedos, I am going to say whatever comes to mind and then delete some of the crap later.)

So I'm at work, right? And there is nothing going on. I took a smoke break, I did some laundry, and now I'm back at the computer. I'd be a lot happier is the interwebs allowed me to look at Tumblr, but alas.
____________________


-OMG KIM- I just cheked someone in. Holy crap. For a solid minute and a half I had something to do. And now, nothing. I could go fold sheets, but I hate folding sheets. I could check on the dryer.. buuuut it beeps when it's done so I dont -need- to.

I have a headache and it's right between my eyes. I want to go home, but I have to stick this out for four more hours. That's a long time is sit doing nothing. I tried reading but I can't focus and I can internet anything interesting.

4 more hours. *bangs head against wall*.

I plan on doing this the entire 4 hours, by the way. So, you know. I might start 5 random things In a row. Fuck editing shit out. I'll just make a nice long blog to you, Kim.

I'm going to go fold some sheets. UGH. But I'll be back.

_________________

I'm back.

Well. 15 minutes have passed. I finished the second to last load of laundry, so there's only one more before it is ALL done. No more. Not even for night shift or the rest of my shift.
And I still have 3.75 hours.

Ugh. No wonder Roderick wanted me to work for him. Today was supposed to be my day off. But no. Roderick called me and offered me a joint to work for him so I took it. I spent the first 3 hours of my shift high, which was fun, but I powered through all the cleaning that now there's nothing left to do. Bathrooms, windows, doors, tables, vacuuming. All done. And there's practically no one here, so I'm just bored. Chilling.

Except I'm drinking coffee, so I have a ton of energy.

Coffee, vanilla cream, and hot cocoa mix. It is delicious. You should try it.

____________________


I'm imagining myself laying upside down off the edge of a bed pulling on my cheeks and low eye lids and frowning. That is what's going on right now, Kim.


_____________________

Meh. This drink is good. And vanilla-y. I like vanilla. I have a honey suckle candle at home right now that would be good. I like candles. They smell good. I got a new laundry soap that smells like apples and springtime and it is divine. I already ate dinner at 5 because I was stoned and had the munchies and now it's seven which is my real dinner time and I have nothing to eat. Not that I'm hungry, I mean, I just ate. It's just.. what do I do when it's dinner time and I already ate? It's silly.

I want to go swimming. The pool is so tempting and the spa is so inviting and warm and bubbly and I just want to sink into it and lay there.

So I used to have this neighbor when I lived in California, right? And her name was Taylor. She had two step sisters, Nicki and Boo, who lived there that she visited. She was my friest best friend. They had a pool, and a shed that was like their play house and I used to love going over there. Her mom, Lisa, was awfully nice. Super pretty too, blond and blue eyed. Her dad Dillan was pretty nice too.

Do you like Fleet Foxes? It is a band. They have a cover of Can't Help Falling In Love and it's adorable. So I'm sitting here thinking of the people I think I've loved. Cameron, Taylor, Pat, Brian. So I'm wondering if I really did fall in love with all those people. I mean, it all felt the same, but different. The rush was there, the committment, the lust. All there. I felt a connection to these people, and I spent a lot of time thinking about the rest of my lives involving these people. With Brian, I saw him as a potential father and husband, I loved him that much. And the rejection from these people was tremendous, you know? It was all I could think about and hurt over.

I think it's in part with my Borderline Personality though. We form strong emotional connections and people don't know how to deal with them. I don't just have friends, I have best friends for life. Like you and Ashley and Sami. I hold onto these people because I genuinely love and miss them. Same with people I love romantically. I don't think it'd be the same though today. I mean, some of those were so long ago. I loved Cameron over 5 years ago. I never thought I'd love anyone that way again, but I did. I loved Brian especially. That one hurt a lot. He sort of made it seem like he cared for me back, but he was so in love with Nina. The older version of me he said. God, that hurt. And then I wrote him a letter telling him how I felt after he left and stupidly gave it to him. I cried a lot because I knew he loved Nina, not me. That maybe if I were older he'd love me. Who knows, but it was awful.

You're lucky. Your heart was only temporarily broken when you broke up with Treavor. You got him back. And he never really left. I mean, it was awful, but you go him back. I've give anything to get Brian back, even though he was never really mine.

_____________________

It is now 8:20, which means I have 2.6 hours left here. The housekeepers just called me up because their TV wasn't working. The housekeepers live here and their room smells, stereotypically, of curry. It's kind of gross and kind of sweet. I don't know how to describe it.

Also, I am now entirely sober and am kind of sleepy. I'm ready to go home and go to bed. Soon. Very soon.

I'm going to go fold MORE sheets and this will be the last load.

______________________

I did not finish the luandry yet. Some guests came in to check the hotel out to potentially set a block of rooms for a wedding.

Exciting stuff.

My tummy hurts. Probably from the smoking and pizza

_____________________

Almost 9 now. Still nothing exciting is happening. I've been reading.. And I'm really bored so you can't mock me. I've been reading Fifty Shades of Grey and I've come to the conclusion that it is nothing but glorified porn for all the world to collectively read and fawn over. And it's not even good porn. I mean, I've seen crappy 70's porn that is less obnoxious than this. I'm no conniseiur (I butchered that word, whatever) of porn, but this shit sucks.

I still have sheets to fold that I don't want to but I need to do.

_____________________

It is now 9 p.m. The sheets are all folded. Everything is done and now I just have 2 hours left of literally no work to do. Good times.

I'm trying to think of things to tell you that won't bore you. I've been reading Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and he advice is to start writing about childhood. I told you about Taylor, she was cool. She went to year round school though, so I only saw her on her breaks.

Then my other neighbors, Matt Lizzie and Chris were cool too. I mostly played with Lizzie who was 2 years younger than me. Matt and Chris always played together and played Nintendo 64 and capture the flag. Every once in a while they'd come play outside with us and we'd stand on the hill that made up their back yard and played capture the flag. We'd play teams and we always let Lizzie's team win, otherwise she'd get upset.

Matt had really bad childhood arthritis in his neck and couldn't look all the way up. He just couldn't bend his neck that far. Chris was super cute and 2 years older than me and I always liked him. Matt was 4 years older than me and I always looked up to him. He's in med school now just like his dad, who is a doctor. I'm not sure what their mom is doing these days. She was always the nicest woman.

_______________________

Now 9:30. So close. Just an hour and a half more.

I need to shave my arms and my underarms. I mean, no shame or whatever, I just don't prefer being this hairy. My arms are covered in fuzz.

I JUST CHECKED IN ANOTHER GUEST KIM. I AM OVERJOYED AT THIS OCCASION.

I also ate a powdered dounut, which was marvelous.

I miss seeing you all the time.


And now I am posting this an hour early for you to see because apparently you couldn't find my blog, but I love you :D


Love,
Alexandra

I have been doing laundry for hours. Literally. Hours and hours of laundry going from the washing machine to the dryer to being folded. Hundreds of towels and washclothes and sheets and pillowcases.

I am drowning under all of this laundry.

I'd be on Tumblr, believe you me, but the computer blocks sites like that. Facebook and Twitter too.

What I'd really like is to go home because I am bored out of my mind. All there is to do is laundry and I am sick of laundry. There are thees huge blue bins full of laundry and I'm not even close to done with them. I have laundry in the washer and dryer, another load to go in, and two loads left to fold and it never ever ends. I've probably done 8 loads of laundry today. Hotel work means laundry, I guess.

We're dead though. We have a few people in house and one more arrival, but aside from there there's no one here. The few guests we do have are either out and about or holed up in their rooms. I'm all alone I guess.

Not working with anyone is hard. There's no one to talk to or be with, you're just all alone. It gets boring.

I've been reading Bird by Bird, and it's a book about being a writer.
It says to have short assignements and to write shitty first drafts and that being a writer is really hard and while honest, it is still uplifting and motivating.

I wonder if I could ever be a writer. I'm sure I could, it'd just be hard. Forcing myself to sit down day after day creating works of cition and having to work on the same project for months on end. It's hard and I have the most respect for writer because if you're good, than you must have worked really really hard.

I am at work and I am baked.
I smoked with my BOSS last night. Seriously.
We got high together and then watched Step Brothers.

I slept in until 1 today.
Then got called in to work an hour early.

Then to thank me from getting in early the guy who worked before me gave me a piece of his keef joint. That shit be good.

So I guess I'm blogging again. I used to have a blog and I'm not sure what happened to it. Those were hard times. These are hard times.

I just want to be happy.

The meds are working. The therapy is going well. I got a job and still - not happy. I thought I was happy. I really did. Everything was good and for a moment, I was happy. Not now. I'm just going through the motions. Eat 3 meals. Shower daily. Go to work and dont be late. Smile smile smile smile all the time so no one know I'm unhappy.

I think my mom knows. She tells me I look sad but I just come up with an excuse that I'm tired or ate too much or something.

I mean.. It's good I have a job. Now I can pay off my student loan and lease termination fee. I can afford to put gas in my car or save money to buy a new laptop since mine bit the dust in December.

I'm living my life, but I'm still not happy. I just got the job a few days ago and my boss expects me to know everything and be able to do everything right and know exactly what to do and when to do it. It's frustrating. He makes me feel stupid and inferior and I hate it. Well, the owner. Not my boss. My boss, Krist, is pretty cool. He's awfully nice and teaches me, but I got stuck with the owner yesterday because it was Krist's day off. The guy deserves a day off. I just wish I had the day off too. Yesterday was such a struggle. Everything kept going wrong, the system was down, the power knocked everything out, people kept calling and asking me questions that I didn't know how to answer and my boss was super frustrated as was I.

I just want to be good at my job. I want to have friends, which this job doesn't offer since I work mostly alone or with Krist.

I miss having friends. I miss going over to Caitlyn's house and just being with her and her family, which I can't do now since her mom hates me. She thinks I overdosed to get Caitlyn's attention. Oh, by the way, I overdoesed on Superbowl Sunday. Took a few too many Xanax and drank too much gin. Hotsie's (my dead grandmother's) anniversary was coming up and I couldn't face it. I just wanted to get high but I ended up in the emerbency room instead. I spent 2 weeks in a psychiatric facility in Cedar Rapids. I thought I was okay when I left and then I found out I was diagnosed as having Borderline Personality Disorder, handled it badly, and then went back to the hospital, this time in Waterloo. I was good-ish, well.. mostly I pretended to be good-ish and then went back to the hospital a couple weeks ago after a suicide attempt - a handful of pills. Then I was happy. I got a job working at a local AmericInn and I had everything on track. A job, I was happy, everything was right. And it still is. I just.. I don't know. I'm not happy. Maybe it's just today. I don't know.

I'll sleep it off.

Or smoke. I stole money out of my mom's wallet to buy cigarettes, how pathetic is that? I'm such a mess. I want to not be a mess, but I don't know how to be. I don't know how to be happy for more than a few days, I'm always bored, and I seem to hide is poorly.

I need to be back in school, but I don't know if that will make me happy. I want to figure out what I'm doing with my life, but once I do, will I be happy? When my life is finally "together," will I be happy then? When I have a husband/wife, kids, a home, a stable career.. will I be happy then? Will I ever be truly happy? I don't know. I mean, I'm not super depressed and suicidal anymore, but will I ever actually be happy?