I hate allergies. This is currently my weekend, and I have been too foggy and miserable from my allergies to want to paint. Which is awful because I really feel like there is something inside of me that needs to come out and letting that out on the canvas is exactly what I need to do. I feel like this is the artist's equivalent of sexual frustration. It sucks.

My too good to be true really did end up being too good to be true. Another sad case of bad timing. Maybe one day the stars will align for us, but right now he needs time. My gut tells me to back off, to not get invested, and maybe he will come around when he is ready. If he doesn't, it wasn't meant to be. I have to listen to my gut. In the meantime I will content myself with seeing him every so often and enjoying our time together but not expect more. I will fill the void with art. Once I start feeling healthy again.

Apart de ca, been feeling a bit down lately, but that's to be expected-- I suppose when you're bipolar it never truly goes away. At least now it is fairly mild, and I can acknowledge when I'm feeling this way and why I'm feeling this way, and just do what I can to tough it out. It sucks when I am driving in my car and I feel that heaviness inside me, the need to just cry, but I never actually do, I am not much a crier. I do what I can to make myself better and to deal.