Time Machine

I was walking to my car the other day and our neighbor, this 50 some yr old woman, starts to talk to me. I hate it when this happens, I just want to get in my car and go. Though, while I was trying to pay attention to whatever it was that she was talking to me about I noticed that she had the same exact reading glasses as I do or at least my old ones, I got new ones for christmas. Either way, this freaked me out. I suppose I am just going to have to one day accept the inevitable truth that I am a 50 yr old woman trapped inside a 20 yr olds body. I often think that I was just born in the wrong time period. I think I belong back in the 20s/30s when there was swing dancing and people were actually polite to each other. I just don't get people these days. Nobody has any respect for anyone. The thing that bothers me the most is that it just seems like most people lack the ability to love or even empathize with other people. Nobody cares about anyone but themselves. And so it leaves us to slamming doors in each others faces, bumping into each other on the street, constant contact, yet, we are all so disconnected.

I am also guilty of this. In fact, I'm sure that I lack most social skills that I am suppose to have acquired by now. However, I will always hold a door for someone and I will always say excuse me if I'm trying to pass someone on the street. I may be completely awkward when thrust into social situations, but at least I am polite.

Strand me on an island any day, away from these people, really...a log cabin in the mountains even sounds nice.

It's funny...I was watching a comedian the other day and he made a really good point. He said the squarer the shape of the state, the more boring and desolate it is. Perhaps I should move to Wyoming or North Dakota...Anyway, I was laughing hysterically because Maryland is the most fucked up looking state of them all, haha, and here I am. I don't know, I guess I fit in here, I'm definitely squiggly around the edges.

Never The Same

I have always pondered the whole nature vs. nurture thing. Being raised as a twin was a constant struggle for my own identity because as long as I could remember people had been erasing me by dressing me in the same exact clothes as my twin, same hair cut, same birthday presents, same everything. Always to the point where I felt stripped of my individuality, my uniqueness, not to mention toys that I actually had an interest in. Everyone just assumed that since I was a girl I had to like Barbies and that since Nicole really liked them than I must too. I hated Barbies. Except my Little Mermaid doll, she was cool (note how I used the word doll here, not Barbie). A good example of this goes back to my 5th birthday. Nicole and I were fighting over the theme of our party. She wanted a Barbie party and I wanted Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Way cooler than lame ass Barbie if you ask me. Anyway, my parents made us compromise, so we had Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles decorations and a Barbie cake. I ate her head.

Either way we were different and because everyone always wanted to make us the same I was constantly looking for ways to separate myself from her. It's just amazing how young I can remember being and thinking this way, it started early for me and has been one of the few constants in my life. Nicole and I were raised by the same people, in the same way, yet, we are two completely different people and we have been since birth. Its when I think about this that I truly believe in souls.

The weird thing about it though is that it never really seemed to bother Nicole. She liked being close to me like that, always wanted to do everything with me and I would push her away because I felt so suffocated. I think she had a lot of issues with me because of that, I hurt her feelings a lot and we fought constantly for as long as I can remember or at least since the point I decided I didn't want to be, in any way, defined by her. I don't know, I have been thinking about my childhood a lot lately. Every once in a while it will resurface to torture and confine my thoughts.

Endlessly Restless

I'm feeling extremely restless lately. Whenever I start to feel restless I become impulsive. When I become impulsive I start to make rash, bad decisions. My impulsive behavior is evident merely by the number of piercings that I have, not to mention my morbid addiction to pain and all its forms, but that is a minuscule example of only some (11 to be exact) instances where I was feeling restless and desired some sort of change.

I've been trying very hard to keep myself occupied during my break. However, I was under so much stress and for so long that I somehow became comfortable and now I'm finding it extremely hard to reach that amount of stimulation, so I feel bored. This...is a bad thing. So, for the next couple of weeks I'm going to try even harder not to give in to my addiction to adrenaline.

Tonight I'm going to Sonar so hopefully this will fuel my need for excitement via lots of liquor and the random rub off a complete stranger until next semester starts. Though I doubt it. The fact that I'm going to Sonar while feeling restless probably isn't the best start to giving up adrenaline, but I'm sure it will be fun anyway :)

Responsibility

Today my mom is having some serious surgery done and so it is left to me, the eldest sibling and therefore second in line to assume the alpha female role of my pack, to once again temporarily fill the shoes my mother will inevitably leave to me hopefully much farther down the road than today.

I don't mind doing this for my family, in fact, I often assume this position even when it isn't necessarily required of me, especially when it comes to my little sister. This always makes me wonder about the exact moment in my life when I made the decision to take on this role. I was born 1 minute before my twin...its amazing to think how much our lives can change in just one minute of its entirety...However, I like to think that it is more than just that one minute of my life that separates me from her.

There are many times from my childhood that I can remember willingly and knowingly sacrificing my innocence and naivety. I never really fought for it, I just sort of accepted my fate as the oldest and I can honeslty say that it was that choice that has made me the person that I am today. For example, it was always a huge deal when I was very young as to which one of us would get to lay in front of my mom while watching TV and who would lay on her butt. Nicole always wanted to be the one to lay in front of her and I would never fight her on this, I would always willingly give up my right to equally share that spot because I knew it would make her happy. This also goes along with the battle of who got to sit up front whenever we would drive anywhere. Nicole would throw a fit and I would feel bad and say, "It's ok mom, she can sit up front, I don't mind." Sometimes my mom would force me to sit up front with her or lay in front of her, just because I was never willing to fight for it...I truly believe that it is because of those moments in my life, even from such a young age, that I have gained the amount of respect from my parents that I have now. The thing about it though, the thing that bothers and haunts me the most, is that I did mind, I did want to sit up front, I did want to lay in front of my mom...But that want was never a good enough reason for me. My own want wasn't worth upsetting Nicole and putting my mom through the stress of hearing her cry about it, I loved them both too much for that...So, I sacrificed my own happiness for them...I was so young then but never fought for the benefits that go along with being so young and I don't know why...

Anyway, when my mom comes home today she will be in a lot of pain, and for weeks, and won't be able to do much. So, my dad came to me, even though he knows he doesn't have to, and asked for my help around the house and things. I said, sure of course, not a problem. Meanwhile Nicole is a few feet away in the other room sleeping on the couch...and I thought, I wonder if she appreciates or even knows what it is that I have given her...But then my dad placed his hand on my back, leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Thank you honey", kissed my forehead and walked away...and I thought...

Yesterday

So yesterday I had off of work, I was very excited all weekend that I was going to have Monday off, such a great day to have off. Whenever I have off on Monday I feel like I have somehow cheated the rest of the week and it tends to go by much faster. I was planning on sleeping in, cleaning my car, and then watching some movies for the rest of the day. Instead, I woke up abruptly at 5am. This is when the vomiting started and it did not end until 4pm. There were times yesterday that I really wanted to die. As I set up camp in my bathroom and became very acquainted with the tiles on my bathroom floor and the various shapes and figures they can make, I realized a very familiar feeling was with me all day and didn't cease to exist until I was able to keep down water. This was the feeling of defeat. Life has this way of just blatantly slapping me down. Yesterday was very humbling indeed. Life-"No, you will not have a comfortable relaxing day off, instead, you will puke all day and therefore have ample time to feel completely helpless and not in control of your life at all." Which brings me to the weird thing about defeat, when it comes to me at least.

There have been many times in my life when I have felt absolutely defeated. However, there is always this part of me that is awakened at the sight of defeat and reminds me that I won't feel this horrible forever, things will get better, things will work themselves out one way or another even if you can't see how or why right now. This part of me contradicts how I am naturally, which is completely pesimistic most of the time. But...somehow I always find that slightest bit of hope and that can last me for a long time, consider me a hope camel. Whenever I have these feelings of hope or faith I cling on to them for dear life. So, I am thankful that yesterday when I really wanted to just give up, asperate and die that I had those few hopeful thoughts that I wasn't going to be sick like this forever, just a few more hours of this and I will be ok again.

I will never take those gleaming and glittering feelings of hope during times of despair for granted, they keep me going.

Save Me

Lost in a deep sea of desire
You hunt me in these waters
I can't tread these feelings forever
Eventually I will drown in you

You constantly cast me into the deep end
I shiver in your dark and cold places
Your warmth is too deep for me to reach
Save me from this storm

Dry land and shelter taunt me
But this is where I choose to stay
My pain is my comfort
My struggle is my purpose

One day I'll swim to shore
Leaving myself with you in that sea
I won't have my pain to guide me
But I'll have the warmth of the sun

The shade of the trees
The air in my lungs

~I actually write a lot of poetry, however, I am even more critical when it comes to my poems than I am when it comes to my writing. So, in efforts to be more brave, I decided to post this.

Emotionality

I consider myself an extremely rational person. However, I constantly contradict my rationality with the amount of influence I allow my emotions to have on me. This contradiction may or may not be obvious...My emotion has always been something that I am very skilled at hiding, even when it comes to posting on this blog. There are probably more drafts saved on this account then there are actual entries. I am confident in my ability to erase, to hide. I'm very cautious and this caution comes from fear and the inability to trust, even myself. I'm constantly searching for the reason I am the way that I am, perhaps not even a reason but a course of events. I also continually search for answers to questions that don't have a solid answer...

Lately I have this urge to let go of everything and just be. If only it were that easy for me to let go of all of my flaws, my insecurities, my fears. I have always kept them so close to me, I never give myself a break. Somehow I find comfort in all of those things. They are my crutch, they make me human. I wonder though, whether it is a good thing or a bad thing that I constantly focus on parts of myself to improve one way or another. I need to find the courage to be happy with myself, accept who I am in the present and allow myself to change when the time comes. If you constantly search for something you're going to miss the things that happen naturally, without any effort.

I should be happy with the person that I am right now. It's pointless to strive for perfection 100% of the time or even at all. I know that I will never be perfect, but I'm a good person and that should be enough. I feel the most fulfilled when I'm taking care of someone I love and the emptiest when I have disappointed them somehow. I am always willing to sacrifice myself one way or another for those people and I'm starting to wonder if this has something to do with my feelings about my own self worth. I constantly feel like my purpose in this world is to make others happy and to do whatever I can to help someone when they need to be helped. I have no idea where this desire comes from inside me, but its there and always has been. A lot of the time I wish I didn't possess those feelings of extreme empathy. I wish I could walk down the street and not feel sorry for the homeless people that I see, I wish I could ingore what's happening with the war and all of the people who are suffering and dying, I wish these things didn't consume me the way that they do. It's like 'the nothing' in A Neverending Story. There's too much sadness here...

Jack Frost Where Are You?

I never thought I would say this...but...where the hell is winter?! Trees should not be budding, it's friggin January for Christ's sake. This is really messing up my yearly routine. It should NOT be 55-60 degrees right now. Don't get me wrong, I love warm weather, in fact, I hate the cold. However, during the winter I tend to fuel my creativity with a lot of reading, writing, drawing, playing my guitar etc because I really don't want to go outside and there's not much else to do. And now I feel completely thrown off balance, more so than usual. I have this feeling about me like everything has been meshed together, unnaturally. I like the changing of the seasons because it gives me a concept of time, not only of the present, but of the past and future as well. I want it to snow so I can go outside and roll around in it (for a very brief amount of time, then I'll enjoy it from a distance) and remember all of the times we turned my front porch steps into a ramp, or all the times I busted my ass trying to make it from the Poly parking lot to the school building (damn those city schools for their lack of available salt), and to feel the excitement of the possibilty of getting out of school. I miss these things right now, in fact, I crave them. I want to walk outside and smell the cold crisp air, I am tired of the smell of rain. I'm seriously considering permenantly wearing my pajamas inside out until I see some changes. I'm that desparate.

See. I Told You.

Truth

Here are a couple of entries from my actual journal, not dated, but a month or two ago I suppose...I'm trying to be courageous, can't you tell?

I trip over my thoughts and my words even in my day dreams of my confessions to you. I wish I had the courage to turn these dreams into reality. It's so hard when I don't know how you'll react, what you'll say. I have this fear of seeing terror in your eyes, a loss I could not handle. It's easier for me to imagine your words for you. It's easier for me to imagine your lips on mine, your hands through my hair. It's easier for me to imagine that you love me back.

Though, these day dreams are starting to haunt me. You haunt me in a way you'll never know was possible. You'll never know how my heart beats for you, how I long to see you, how I can't feel the air in my lungs until you look at me. You look at me, your eyes, I fear that you see right through me. Right through to my heart where you've found a comfortable space. Then you smile, a smile that lights up my spirit, a smile that I'd die to see. You make me feel alive. An aliveness that brings me so much sorrow. Sorrow because I know I can never truly fulfill it. You stab me with your beauty. It's an overwhelming pierce to my heart with every quizzical glance. With my love for you goes hand in hand my pain. I never knew true heart ache until my soul woke up in love with you.

I'll carry this burden of love for you...I'll keep it close to me as you are close to it. I never knew this place existed in my heart until you gave it purpose. I love you. I hate you...I love you...

And a little while later...

So another day passes and I can slowly feel myself drifting away from my love for you, my love of the day dreams I have of our coalition. Though, I feel excruchiating jealousy towards the person who will get to have you. The person that gets to take care of you. The person that can make you happy in a way I wish I could. This jealousy runs deep, I can feel it, flowing through my veins, it burns me with every flirtation. I never knew a jealous monster existed in my being until I met you. It seems like I will carry this pain with me until the day I die. I must have been your true love in another life and God's ironic sense of humor has merely placed me as your friend in this one, how unfair. I can only hope one day you will notice the indescribable and unconditional love that I have for you. It seems so timeless, yet, time plays the role of the antagonist in this story. I wish you could see past my physical...See my heart, see my soul and then you will see how perfectly we fit together. You complete me in a way I never knew was possible. You level me, you ground me. I never knew the sadness that is born from something you can't have, but something that is so close, until I met you. You're wonderful, you're awful, but I love all of you and I love the things I haven't even discovered yet. Why can't you see it? Why can't you acknowledge it? I don't have the courage or the strength for this...I can only hope that you do...

I'm starting to think that I am too much of a romantic for my own good. I need to snap out of this and go with the flow like the rest of the fishes out there...

Cast Me Away

Now that I have time to relax I am slowly slipping back into my normal routine of reading, watching movies and day dreaming. Over the years I've realized that I thoroughly enjoy many forms of escapism. I've always wondered if this was because of a true love and passion for almost all forms of art or if it is only a gateway for me to escape the harsh realities of the world in which we live. Perhaps it is a combination of the two or perhaps art is a form of escapism that can only be taken advantage of by the people who truly appreciate it and understand its purpose. Whether it be reading something someone has written or examining a painting someone has painted or watching a movie someone has filmed, I can fall so in love with these things to the point at which I am consumed by them. For however brief a moment I am somewhere else, lost in someone else's mind and heart.

A lot of the time this scares me, how lost I can be and how much I enjoy the escape. It's almost as if I have to force myself to stick with reality a lot of the time. I constantly have to pull myself out of my own day dreams or the day dreams, ideas, and thoughts of others. For most of my life I've always preferred walking through a painting, living the adventures of fictional characters in the books that I read and relating my life to people in the movies that I watch than actually living my own life. I suppose its a much more comfortable position to be in, that of the dreamer as opposed to that of the doer. I need to become a doer.

I hope to discover a way to balance the part of my personality that is the dreamer and the much smaller part of me that is the doer. I'm very capable of accomplishing things and I almost always succeed at anything that I try. However, its too easy for me to escape life and I'm constantly looking for a way out. It's almost as if I get bored with my life or bored with the way things are in general in this world. I always have to add excitement and beauty to it, when really, its not all that dull, theres just not witches, wizards, and dragons flying around.

Just Keep Those Sleigh Bells Jinglin...

Christmas definitely snuck up on me this year. I still can't believe its only 3 days away. I feel like I didn't have time to get excited about it, let alone prepared. The extremely odd warm weather isn't helping me either. I relate a lot of different smells to the feeling of christmas, one of them being the smell of wood burning stoves when you walk outside, which no one has been using this year because its been 60 degrees. And so, I feel extremely robbed of my christmas spirit. My usual demeanor of happiness and light heartedness around this time of year is completely absent. Is this what christmas is like for all adults? A holiday that just sort of happens in the middle of every day life and responsibility? It scares me to not possess that feeling, I've been trying to get in the mood, but its just not there. Instead, this year I seem to be more stressed by christmas than anything. And at this point, stress is a more familiar feeling to me than any other emotion. I also chose to work christmas day and new years day as I desperately need the money, you know, so I can buy school books for next semester. It shouldn't be too bad since I'm going to be in the house with family anyway, might as well be by the computer getting double time for it and it shouldn't be too hard to sit at the computer with a hang over. Anyways, happy holidays.

The Sociopath Next Door...

I'm reading an extremely interesting and almost horrifying book right now called The Sociopath Next Door. Did you know that 1 in every 25 americans is a sociopath? Now, at first, I was extremely surprised at this, however, as I read on and reevaluated people in the world today it made perfect sense to me that 1 in every 25 of us don't have a conscience. It would make sense that the person that almost ran you over with their car would feel no remorse or guilt at the fact they almost killed someone or bumped someone in a crowd or jumped in line or stole something from a store or robbed a bank. However, one of the most interesting points in this book is that those people are the only sociopaths we truly recognize, the ones that commit crimes and get caught. What about all the people that get away with it or the sociopaths that aren't violent or openly commit crimes? There are many reasons why we don't recognize such sociopaths and it is simply because those of us who do have a conscience constantly make excuses for those of us who don't or we choose to ingore them or we are so manipulated by them we can't even tell that something isn't quite right about Bob.

There are several types of sociopaths. There are the psychopath sociopaths, which are the people that commit serious crimes and/or kill other people, a lot of these people are in jail, or at least I hope so. However, there are also the sociopaths that often go unrecognized. These include (to name only a few because I haven't finished reading the book yet) the covetous sociopaths, which are the people that have an "inordinate desire" for the possessions of others and will therefore do anything to somehow sabotage people they are most often jealous of or in fact strip that person of what they have that the sociopath desires. This isn't necessarily a possession but can also be a personality trait or beauty or accomplishments etc. There is also the intellectual sociopath, which are most often your business men or lawyers etc. These are the power hungry sociopaths, the people that will do anything for their own personal gain, and I mean anything (because they don't have a conscience), in order to obtain a feeling of power over other people. Then, there is the average sociopath, the sociopaths that don't equal the intellectual sociopaths in intelligence, good looks, or charm but obtain their sense of power by more mediocre tasks. An example she gives in the book of the average sociopath was a man, who they reffered to as "Stamp Man", because he would break into local postal offices, steal all of their stamps, and then sit somewhere close by to watch as the early morning workers panicked and called the police. He was almost always caught for this, however, he didn't care, the pleasure he got out of this was enough for him to not care about the consequences or even think about them.

I am just completely side swiped by this information. It's extremely hard for me to imagine not having a conscience, to inflict pain on someone or be the cause of putting someone in danger or manipulating someone enough to cause them anguish or sabotaging someones life, just for the hell of it, for the pleasure, and not feeling any remorse or guilt because of it. Just amazing...1 of every 25 of us was born without a conscience, without a jiminy cricket, scary.

So, how many sociopaths do you know?

Why?

So, its 1am and I am sitting here drinking a bottle of apple Boone's Farm, that isn't mine I might add, while staring at the blank and unstimulating computer screen trying to find some source of motivation in order to write something. It use to be so easy for me to write when I was younger, anything and everything inspired me...I just feel more and more jaded by the world the older that I get, "simple" things don't have the affect on me that they once did and so now I must be hit by a motivational cinder block to have any kind of inspiration to write. Perhaps I set this standard for myself somewhere along the way to write something meaningful, touching, surprising, interesting, etc instead of just writing because it makes me happy. Or perhaps this standard was forced upon me, this way of thinking, and I just allowed it. I feel so forced by society to set standards for myself, to have these huge expectations of myself even when it comes to my writing, something that use to be so simple and easy for me, something that use to belong to me completely. Most of the time I wish that I never submitted to this, I wish I had never let myself fall subject to the high expectations that society as well as my family has set for me. I submit to these things by constantly succeeding at whatever is placed before me by them or by feeling immense guilt for any failed attempt. Why?

I don't regret many things because I truly believe that any decision that I make, good or bad, has an overall possitive affect on any decision I might make after that. This is because I choose to turn every experience into something that I've learned instead of repeating the same mistakes. However, I do regret the strong grip that I have allowed things in this world to place upon me. Instead of fighting this control I accept it as life and base decisions around those barriers.

I constantly wonder what life would be like if society hadn't drawn such a solid line between what is acceptable and what is not, what is supposed to be achieved in life and what isn't considered fulfilling. Happiness is so important to me, as well as balance, and I repeatedly feel thrown from those two things. How can I ever achieve them if I can never be completely content with my life, and in this world, contentness and comfortability are so often the equivalent of either riches or fame, and most of the time they go hand in hand. I don't want to be rich and I don't want to be famous, I think both of those things are such a waste of life, yet, they are extremely desired by our entire society. Why?

I don't know, at this point I am just rambling. However, it has been a constant struggle of mine, the hardship of choosing what will make me the happiest and what is "right". I need to break free of this grip and just say fuck it, so what if I don't become a doctor, so what if I choose the life of a hermit and live in a tree somewhere. Its so obvious to me that living a life without happiness isn't a life at all, I just need to take that leap, put my happiness first and then everything else second. I will take responsibility for my own happiness and whether that is considered right or wrong from here on out, I could care less.

"It may be that we are puppets-puppets controlled by the strings of society. But at least we are puppets with perception, with awareness. And perhaps our awareness is the first step to our liberation." -Stanley Milgram

Life As My Cat

I often find myself wishing that I was my own pet...Such a comfortable and loving position to be in...

Amanda comes home, I run towards her, while making that purring sound that she likes, and she gently places her 50lb book bag on the bench as to avoid scaring me away. She then sits in the middle of the kitchen floor, just like one of us, to make it easier for me to climb into her lap and drool lovingly all over her jeans. I have nothing in the world to worry about, I depend on her to feed me, clean my litter box, spend hours upon hours petting me, the kind of devotion, love, and attention that I know she wouldn't waste on any human, and then let me fall asleep on her chest, which I know can't be very comfortable for her, but she allows it anyway. Every now and again I will scratch at the wooden railing and sit inside the kitchen sink, both of which she scolds me for, but that kind of reprimanding is always followed by oodles of compliments about how beautiful and good I am. I always reciprocate these acts of love by nudging her in the head with mine when shes sleeping, keeping her clothes warm while shes in the shower right after she is done ironing them, and not to mention placing myself directly on top of anything that she might be reading or paying the slightest bit of attention to. If only all cats were victims of such unconditional love, I know that I'm lucky, hey look, a house fly.

From Katie...

ForEverDance17 (11:51:33 AM): I just want you to know how amazing I think you are. This semester was such a struggle for all of us, but when I look at you and the amount of stuff you take on, it blows me away. You are such a smart, beautiful person inside and out and I think your busyness and hard work was overlooked a lot this semester. We were all upset that we never got to see you anymore, but no one took into consideration that the only thing you were trying to do was keep your head above water and succeed and I just want you to know, no matter how corny it sounds, that I am so unbelievably proud of you. When it comes down to being mad and frustrated with life, I think about all you do and it makes me feel not so bad. SO, I just want you to know I love you to death and am so glad you made it!

As I sit here in tears I realize just how much I needed something like this to come from someone I care so much about. It is moments like these when you realize who your true friends are, the people that are there for you for better or worse, through the good times and the bad. I love you, so very much, and saying that I love you doesn't even seem like enough, so, I'll say this also: For the rest of my life I will try and make you as happy as you have made me with that short paragraph that I see before my eyes.

Last Night

So after my Anatomy/Physiology final last night my professor took us all out for a drink, it was the least he could do after putting us through the absolute hell that he did. At the beginning of the semester he said that the first round of drinks were on him. By the end of the semester that turned into drinks all night because there was only about 13 of us left out of 40 something, good for us...Anyways, we enjoyed running that tab up as high as we possibly (physically) could and then we decided that karaoke was an excellent idea. Let me just say, karaoke is extremely tricky when alcohol is involved. Simply because it is much easier as well as much harder to do karaoke when you're drunk. I'll explain, it's much easier to actually get the balls to go up there and sing in front of people but much harder to actually read the words on the screen. And I'll tell ya, I never knew I was such a good (entertaining) rapper. I'm sure I would have made Kanye proud with my version of Gold Digger. I almost died with laughter though when I realized they changed the line, "but she ain't messin' with no broke nigga" to "but she ain't messin' with no brokey broke" I said, what the hell is a brokey broke, or something that sounded like that I guess and then continued to sing (butcher) the song.

All in all, I'd say last night was the perfect closing scene to this semester.

P.S. I dedicate this entry to all my brokey brokes out there, cheers!

The End Is Near...

I only have two days of school left in this semester (aka semester from hell) and an immense release of stress is hitting me in the form of a coma. All I want to do is sleep, to make up for all of the sleep I've missed over the past 3 months. Though, besides the release of stress, I was expecting to feel some other sort of relief in the form of feelings of accomplishment and triumph. Like there was going to be some sort of prize for learning all the bones, muscles, veins, arteries etc in the human as well as in animals (Note to self: replace human anatomy with something more useful)

I am one step closer to achieving my degree in Veterinary medicine and instead of feeling like Ive gained something I feel as though I've lost something extremely valuable to me. I feel so detached from myself lately and now that I have time to look back and reflect upon the past three months all I see is a vast bluriness that was my existence. Ive never needed a break from school so badly, medical school is not easy and working full time along with it should be against the law.

I can't wait to sit down and read a book that I actually want to read, I can't wait for all of the useless information crammed inside my brain to slowly leak out, and most importantly, I can't wait to close my eyes at night and see nothing but the back of my eyelids, as opposed to flashes of the male genitalia model I had to learn inside and out, literally.

It's almost like I've broken out of a shell of myself to discover that Im in the present actually being able to live my life. I'm slowly starting to shed the thick skin that got me through this semester. Anyway, I intend to focus on gaining my sanity back over my winter break so I can lose it again come spring, and oh yeah, its almost christmas.

So Far Down

I feel like I'm missing from my own life. A voided space that I use to fill is becoming an epidemic throughout my universe. My absence is spreading like a disease. I'm a ghost among the living, a shadow among the solid figures. For once, I'm not struggling with my identity, but with my existence. My goals have swallowed me whole.

Simultaneously, my personality feels comfortable with a certain amount of anonymity. It welcomes the absence, most of the time I'm totally fine with it, scary. I've never understood this about myself...how content I can be in my loneliness, how it suits me. I wallow in this, I indulge, its my creative fuel, I draw, I write, I play my guitar and I'm extremely empathetic. I love these things about myself, I just wish happiness could trigger these things instead of despair.

I'm 20 years old and I haven't figured out how to make myself happy...but I look at my little sister and I am happy for her, I see a flower bloom and I am happy for nature, I see a puppy born and I am happy for life, I look at myself and I see nothing...How do you make something out of nothing? I just wish I could plant myself somewhere and watch myself grow. Instead, I always find myself in a house of mirrors, not being able to recognize any of the 50 different reflections that gaze so quizzically back at me. I can see myself through other peoples eyes and I am proud of the person I am to them, I just wish I could remove that factor and be happy with myself.

Give Me Strength

I need to get through this, only a few more weeks...I just have one request of you, whoever or whatever you are, give me the strength...

Give me the strength to come out of this feeling relieved and happy with myself, because I did it. More importantly, give me the light...so that I may guide my loved ones through this dark space that I find myself. They followed me in here and I am haunted by their shadows.

And finally, give me the strength and the light and the hope for her, she needs me.

I know there is an end to this tunnel, I just hope and pray that they make it out of here with me. I won't leave any of them behind. I'll sacrfice myself for any of them before I let that happen.