Houston, We Have a Problem

Y'all. I realized something big today. Bigger than big. Earth shattering.

I don't like the person I've become since moving in with my sister.

I'm now no longer in that situation and have been out of it just long enough for me to realize that I'm not who I was and I'm scared. Really, really scared. Cause I liked who I was. I really did. And I can't remember what she looked like anymore.

I know I apologize too much. I know that for sure. I'm too eager to please and too careful about trying not to anger people. I constantly second-guess myself and worry that I'm "arsing it up" somehow. Heaven knows what exactly that means.

I used to be a lot more joyful. I can be again. I just...feel as though I've lost my way, and I don't like it and I don't as yet have a plan to get back. I sortof wish I'd kept a journal. I think it would've been an interesting exercise to look back at that to get a glimpse of that girl I so loved; to refresh my memory.

I think the tone of this here blog is going to change a bit folks:

Hello, my name is Tiffany, and I don't know who the hell I am. Welcome to Day One of the Rest of My Life.