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.

Feeling like a total failure. Lasted five minutes outside the house.

Today tried to leave my house for the first time in a week. Initially, I was able to get out of the door – which was successful in itself.

We were going to my boyfriends friends house. He lives six  blocks away or so – a girl was having a birthday party.

I think I made it five minutes before I started crying and had to leave.

I’m thankful that my boyfriend was so sweet about it.


I feel so dejected.

A failure.

The fear started to build in the car, when I looked up from picking out music and realized that we were not close to my house anymore. And we had to cross a bridge. I fucking hate bridges. They always give me these immediate jolts of panic that are hard to shake off.

Then when we got to the house, we were outside and it was cold, and I started worrying because I’ve been sick the past few weeks, and I felt dehydrated, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day and was tired because I spent about 8 hours doing major cleaning in the house.

I just wish I could be normal.

Go outside.

Go to a small get together and be able to not break down crying within five minutes because I can’t handle it because it’s not at my house.

I wish that I was better.

I feel so ashamed.


This feeling is awful.

I’m not panicked anymore.

I still panicked even though I took a lot more medication than I normally would. The panic still was able to cross the barriers of benzo’s. Great.

I probably would have been fine if I had been drinking, but I really hate drinking, and I have been sick so didn’t want to make myself worse.

I’ve also been  craving social interaction lately. I want to be out and about with people. I want to make new friends, and reconnect with old ones.What gives? Why can’t I just keep my shit together like everyone else?

I hate crying in front of people. I hate their pity. I don’t want to be pitied. I get so embarrassed. Now that I’m home, I just feel totally worthless and embarrassed, and I don’t want this to happen again! I’m supposed to go out tomorrow night, for my weekly outing… and the next night to a concert (which is only a block away from my house, which is amazing, and a rock n roll icon I’m overjoyed to see, but still afraid that I’ll have to leave). What gives? I know this isn’t who I am. This is NOT me. Anyway, thanks for listening. I’m going to leave you with the song that was able to calm me down on the drive back to my house.