Hanging on

I feel that I’m back at square one. That one little phrase has so much power behind it; I don’t need to say anything else. I know that I have it so much better than a lot of people, but I’m throwing all of it away with both hands. I’m passing in school, but barely. I’m still working, but it takes an effort to go work. I contemplate ways to get into an accident. Not enough to kill myself, but enough to where I can escape life for awhile. I started seeing a therapist again, and I feel better immediately after, then I get home and I feel the same old stress again.

Normally I would say that its blood sugar talking, and maybe it is. I joined Weight Watchers, and have made an effort to eat better, but I still feel that my brain is spinning out of control, and I just want to yell “STOP!” and run away screaming. If there was anyway to have a nervous breakdown, I so would.

I feel like an idiot for feeling this way. Everyone is like, “You have so much potential, and you can do awesome things.” And sometimes, I believe them. Other times, I feel like I’m stuck in a hole that I can’t get out of.

My biggest problem? Tia. It’s been nearly a year, and things still aren’t great for her. She’s working, but on a part time basis. She’s still dealing with her legal problems, and money is still an issue. I’ve wanted to move to Tulsa, and I want to do it this summer, but I don’t see how I can. I know the things that I need to do to make this happen, but it is so overwhelming that I can’t put it in motion. I also feel guilty about leaving. I haven’t told her about it. When I wasn’t working a few years ago, she did so much for me, and she was happy to do it. I do things for her, but I don’t feel happy to do it. And that makes me feel like I’m not being a good friend to her. Part of me doesn’t care, but I know that when I do tell her, it’s going to be a confrontation, and I don’t want to deal with it. She reminds me so much of my mother that it’s scary.

Don’t get me wrong, Tia is not a completely bad person. She’s got a lot of good qualities. I think the stress of all that’s gone on with her has made me not like her a whole lot, and our friendship is strained.

Other issues: School and Work. I know that I have the capability to handle going to school and work. I know it. But for some reason, I don’t feel that I deserve to make it. I don’t feel confident enough to do it.

Like I said, I’m seeing a therapist again. It’s been two sessions, and while I feel calmer immediately after, I fall back on my same anxieties. I really thought that I had a handle on this, but I’m not so sure now.

I’ve tried really hard to keep it to myself. I really have. I feel ashamed and embarrassed that everyone has to listen to my crap on twitter and facebook. I have friends that I vent to, but I don’t want to feel like I’m dumping on them all the time.

As much as I want to just throw up my hands and quit everything, I know that I can’t. I’ve come too far to give up now. But I want to. Badly.

In Remberance

Today marks the 15th anniversary of the bombing in Oklahoma City. Until September 11th, it was the worst attack on U.S. soil.

I was 14, and in 9th grade at Longfellow Junior High in Enid, Oklahoma. I was late for english class, because I was busy talking to a guy that I had a crush on at the time. My teacher was giving me crap about being late when one of the assistant principals came in and told us the news. I remember being in shock, and wondering how something like this could happen here, in Oklahoma, where it seemed like the only thing that happened were tornadoes.

I went home and sat with my mom and little brother watching the news, and saw the damage, and I was scared. I think it was the first time that I remember being truly aware of death. It scared me .

Today MSNBC is airing The McVeigh Tapes, a series of tapes recorded by Timothy McVeigh before his execution. In it, he talks about the bombing, and his feelings behind what happened. I'll probably watch it, because I've always had a strange curiosity about him. I just can't understand how one person filled with hate can cause so much damage. What happened to him in his life that caused him to do such a thing?

Some of the victims have expressed concerns about the show, saying that it's not going to solve anything. I worry that the state of craziness going on in the country(ie Teabaggers, that woman who was a Vice President nominee), listening to the hate that McVeigh had is going to further incite the stupidity that is going on. I hope it won't, and will show people what hate can do.

In the meantime, I'm going to pray for all the survivors, the ones who died, and everyone who has had their life affected by this tragedy. If you're reading this, tell the people you love how you feel about them today. Life is short. If you're reading this, then you mean something to me, and I love you.

The joy of childhood

Despite all the crap that happened, I had a really good childhood. I grew up in California, in a town called San Bernardino. My mom and I lived in an apartment complex across the street from my elementary school. My grandma lived a few miles away, and I spent the weekends there when my mom had to work. My two best friends were Josie and Cynthia. We did everything together. There was a huge grassy area in the middle of the complex, and that was our playground. We played lots of pretend games, ran around like crazy, and played more Barbie’s than any girl should be allowed to play.

Summertime was the best time. I would wake up early (that doesn’t happen now!), eat a bowl of cereal, and run outside to play. I’d spend all day outside, only going inside to eat, if my mom could get me to come inside. We rode bikes, roller-skated, and played on the slip and slide until we were wrinkled. The best time of day was at sunset, when the adults would venture out, and somebody would turn on a radio. We’d all be dancing and singing as the sun went down. Or someone would grill out, and we all stuffed ourselves full of hamburgers and hotdogs. We’d stay out sometimes until nearly midnight; us kids playing freeze tag and hide and seek, and the adults laughing and talking about grownup things. During the summer, someone would spend the night at my house, or I’d be at someone else’s. We’d play games and talk until a parent told us to go to bed, and then we’d wake up and do it all over again.

It was some of the best times of my life. You’ll be hearing more about my childhood. There were some crazy times, and I want to get back to the joy that I had then.