Growth is a kind of love.

I think I've finally come to a point in my life when I'm ready to make sacrifices in order to be the way that I want to be. For a very long time now, I've measured my self-worth by the frequency of sex I've had... as if I'm only as good as I am sexually desired.

So I made a contract with myself, a promise on paper.

No more sex for at least 6 months and afterwards, I can only have sex with someone who considers himself to be my boyfriend... AND we have to have been together for at least 3 months. So realistically looking at this, I will probably be celibate for about a year, maybe less, maybe more.

I talked with some friends about this and they all thought it was a good idea. Annalyn once told me a couple years back that I was addicted to sex, but I didn't really understand what it meant. I didn't take it seriously, because I know I didn't have that much sex. But now I realize it's not so much about how often it happens. It's more about what it means to you and how you use it to escape the world.

It's my heroine, my crack cocaine. I start to feel bad about myself and the world and I go and find sex with the next moving thing. Yesterday I did it again. I didn't even know him and afterward, I felt numb and empty... but I still think it felt better than sad and unstable. Within the past couple of weeks, the zoloft has completely left my body, and I'm back where I was November 2005 or February 2002 or October 2001.

These months aren't when it was worst. They're right before they got worse.

So I get to make a decision again. Do I let history repeat? Do I fall until I can barely stand to pick up the scattered pieces and find myself another niche in the world--full of people who don't know about me? Or do I make a decisive move and grow up? I'm 23 right now, and I feel like a child. Ridiculous tantrums dressed up with all the words and sentence structures I learned to use throughout my college years. But in the end, maybe I am just a baby... crying the minute someone leaves the room, because I really can't stand to be by myself.

I came to Shanghai to learn to love myself again. But I realize now that it's going to be really hard, because I'm not sure if the word "again" applies. Was there ever a time when I really did? Probably not. If I remember my life by months and years, then maybe sometime in 2008 or 2009, I could look back on June 2006 and remember it as the month when things started getting better. For good.