Why do I allow my failures to overshadow my successes?

I managed to get out of the house today. I went to an area that’s only a few blocks from the house. I was able to go into a vintage clothing store I’ve been wanting to go to for a long time. I bought an adorable cropped leather jacket that looks perfect with my corsets. I went to the fabric store and bought material to make new curtains and a mini-skirt. My boyfriend and I got coffee and bagels, and even went to a car lot to look at cars for me.

After a few hours I started getting anxious. My boyfriend wanted to go to a music store that was a few blocks away. He wanted to walk, and then I got really anxious. I started thinking about every possible scenario that things could go wrong. And how if we walked, we wouldn’t be able to quickly get back to the house. So I said that I wanted to drive, but then I started thinking about any red lights we might hit on the way, and started panicking and had to go home.

I was able to recover quickly after we got back to the house, and we walked to a park a block away and let my dog run around and threw the ball for her. It was really nice. I haven’t been able to do that in months. I haven’t been able to do any of that in months.

My boyfriend still wanted to go to the music store, and kept asking if I was okay to go yet… I kept trying to get it together to go, and finally thought I felt okay to go. When we got in the car, the car was going for about five seconds before I got a huge, overpowering jolt of panic and told him I didn’t think I could do it. He stopped the car, let me out, and said he’d see me in a bit.

Even though I did all of that stuff today (which is absolutely huge for me, and I haven’t been able to do those things in months, since May or June), I feel really upset with myself for not being able to go to the music store. I wanted to go, but I just got too panicked and terrified. I also feel embarrassed and ashamed that I wasn’t able to go. When I got out of the car and walked back to my door, I just wanted to kick myself. It was so painful and shameful.

I know I made progress today, but it feels like my failure completely overshadows any progress that I did make. I feel like a complete letdown. I keep asking myself why I can’t just be normal, and why I can’t seem to just be able to do simple things like ride in the car down the street to go to a music store without feeling doom in the pit of my stomach, like the entire fucking world is going to come crashing down around me and end if I continue on, or get too far away from my house.

Thanks for reading.

Love always, Artemis.

And of course, music to go along with how I feel.

The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place – A Silver Mt. Zion


Successfully left the house! Finally. And saw the godmother of punk.

I’m actually really proud of myself tonight.

The past two days in a row, I attempted to leave the house quite unsuccessfully.

But tonight I left the house with my mom, and even went to a concert.

Not just any concert.

I saw a punk rock rock n’ roll legendary goddess.

I want to tell you who I saw, but I feel like it would give away where I am, and I’m still kind of apprehensive about giving *too many* details as to who I am and where I live. I guess it didn’t help that I uploaded a profile picture. And I’m starting to not really care who finds my blog. Not many people read it anyway.

But it was really nice. I did get panicky a few times. The concert was only a few blocks from my house, so it was within my general comfort range, which is very small. I had fun dancing, and I got to sing along to some amazing songs that I grew up with.

And I got a signed CD.

Fuck it, I saw Patti Smith tonight.

Hell yeah.

And she was incredible.

Maybe you’ve heard this one. Horses is my favorite album by her… and I got a signed CD. Thank you for reading ❤ Artemis

Right now I hate myself and I want to stop existing.

I think he would be happier without me.


I feel like I make him miserable.


I feel like I’m never going to be able to do all the things that he wants to do.


I feel like I’m alway going to be a let down.


I feel like I’m always going to have problems going places.


I feel like I’ll never be enough.


I feel like I bring more pain and misery to his life than happiness.


I don’t know if I can get over my issues.


Fuck, I really want to.


But I don’t know if I can.


I try really, really hard.


I don’t know if trying hard is good enough.


I don’t think it is.


It’s definitely not.


It’s not good enough.


I’m not good enough.


Nothing I do is good enough, no matter how hard I try.


Because I can’t get over these inner issues that I have.


The fear.


The fear always fucking stops me.


And my fear inflicts pain and misery on the people I love.


I feel like I don’t deserve to have people in my life.


I feel like I don’t deserve to have a life at all.


I feel like I’m a huge inconvenience.


I feel like I’m an embarrassment.


I feel like a nuisance.


I feel like no matter what I do, I don’t get better.


I feel like I’m going mad.


I am mad.


I feel like escaping.


But there’s nowhere to escape to.


It makes me physically hurt to see him in so much pain.


Pain because of me.


Pain because I have problems.


I shouldn’t do that to him.


Maybe he would be happier without me.


I sure as hell don’t think I’m worth it.


I don’t know why anyone would want to be with me.


A fucking agoraphobic.


A fearful, dysfunctional, panicked agoraphobic.


What’s the point?


I’m worthless.


I’m nothing.


I hardly exist.


My existance is a fucking laugh.


I don’t know what anyone sees in me.


I’m not worth it.


I’m just afraid.


A coward.


A fucking coward.


If I only had the nerve.


And inflicting this hurt on someone else is making me hate myself.


I hate myself for not being good enough.


I hate myself because I don’t push myself hard enough, and when I do push myself I melt down.


No one has patience for me, and I don’t blame them.


I’m a handful. Not a fun one.


No one wants to wait around for me to attempt to overcome “the terror.”


I don’t know why I’m still alive.


How is it that I still exist?


Is this even an existence?


What if I just stopped existing.


What if I just stopped.






I love him.


I don’t want to hurt him.


It seems like I can’t help but hurt him just because I am with him.


Being with me hurts.


Because I am hurting.


And I am afraid of fucking everything.


I feel undeserving of love.


I feel undeserving of attention.


I feel undeserving of acknowledgement.


I feel undeserving of anything good.


I don’t want to die.


I just want to stop existing.


I want to stop hurting the people I love.


I want to just stop.


I want to stop being afraid.


I want to be able to do things.



To better days.

I woke up today in a surprisingly good mood. Perhaps all of the negative emotions from the previous evening were so overwhelming that I made a 180. Also, I woke up to a really clean house, which always makes me beam with happiness.

I feel like my outer environment is an extension of my inner environment.

I woke up to coffee, and started making a to-do list for things I want to get done. I was also very pleased with myself for waking up before noon. Hell, before the sunset.

I’m still going to attempt to go out tonight. Even though I don’t leave for 9 hours, I’m already putting together my outfit and figuring out how I’m going to do my makeup. Going through all my corsets and trying to find a good one.

I get apprehensive a lot when I go out every week. It’s like, punk/goth night… It’s nice because since I’ve been going so regularly I feel like I know most of the people who go every week… and when I get anxiety there I usually feel comfortable with the people around. I’ve made some connections with some people who understand anxiety and are very sweet. I also love dancing, and music. And I find that it’s difficult to get anxiety when I’m dancing with someone. My boyfriend and I usually swing dance. And they play music like The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Christian Death, etc… Maybe not swing dancing music, but fun to swing dance to regardless. And usually there’s an after party that goes ’til 6 AM. I’m okay with it depending on the location. It changes every week. I guess it’s nice that I’m still invited to parties and social events. I think it’s mainly because I’m dating who I’m dating. He’s such a social person. He’s closing in on around a thousand facebook friends, all people who he knows in person (not one for internet friends). I’ve still been having a hard time with social events with him, mainly because of the other women. I’m not usually a jealous person, but I find it incredibly rude/disrespectful/annoying when women confess their love for my boyfriend when, you know, I’m right there. And there’s this added feeling of feeling nervous about not going to social events with him… it’s not that I don’t trust him, I just don’t trust other women. And I’m not exaggerating when I say there’s a lot of them. And it’s blatant and uncomfortable. Also, he wasn’t interested in monogamy before we started dating. I only do monogamy, and it was a big deal for him to settle down and date someone monogamously. I think he’s happy with me. Although I think he wishes that I got out more and did more things with him… But I’m glad that I’ve known him for so long. About thirteen years. He knew me back when I used to be crazy and out doing everything all the time. Apparently he’s had a crush on me for that long, which I think is cute. But then, so did my last boyfriend. I think I’ve only dated people from my past these past few years because I don’t go out and meet anyone new.

But I am very happy with him. He’s really sweet to me, and I can tell he loves me. Although, he doesn’t function very well in a home environment, and I feel like I am constantly having to teach him things, like the difference between shampoo and conditioner. But it’s a kind of cute rock star style obliviousness that adds to his charm.

Anyway, I feel like I’m rambling on about it.

Today I hope I can be productive in the house, and cross off all the stuff on my to-do list. And I hope that I can have fun tonight and not melt down in a mess of panic.

Here’s a song for a good day. Love, Artemis.