I am sitting on my bed with my snoring dog..listening to music and wishing I was anywhere but here. I guess not alot has changed, it used to be eric snoring next to me and now it's my obese chihuahua. It's pretty funny, right?
I'm really tired of having so much on my plate. I have these moments of being so overwhelmed that it's hard to wake up in the morning. It scares me to think that I'm going back to how I was at the beginning of this semester. I'm happier alone than with anyone else--and if I choose to be social i'm drinking, more than I should. Drowning my sorrows in a shot of patron. Really productive and beneficial. I need someone or something positive in my life, something truly stable. I guess the only thing that I can rely on is myself--which is hard to do when you're over medicated and suddenly aware of all your obnoxious idiosyncrasies pointed out by a psychiatrist.
I'm frustrated. But i'm frustrated that i'm frustrated, I just want to be a normal, average person on the street with a big smile on their face and a bounce in their step. It's been too long pretending, "faking it til I make it" and to be honest i'm just agitated. I can't even say that whole heartedly either, because i'm not absolutely miserable. I like being in Scottsdale alot, even though Santa Fe was an amazing reprieve. But i'm very suspect of people, of everyone lately. I don't understand what happened to caring about strangers and people in general. I need to get out of here. I'm losing faith in the goodness of the average person. People perhaps have turned out to be more selfish than I could have imagined. My father chose his own pride over loving his daughter, Eric only thought of himself, and here I sit with the weight of the world on my shoulders with out anyone to share it with me. What the fuck happened to us?
My mom asked me if I was going to be going out the other night--of course the reason she asked was because she wanted to try and talk to me again about my grandmother. I just don't want to hear it, i want to pretend this isn't happening. My grandmother is barely holding on--she was so miserable in the recovery hospital after her stroke at christmas--wanting to be with her good friends in her garden, enjoying her belongings and her loved ones. Then my mom told me that grandma hardly knows where she is anymore and I just felt sick. I can't lose her and it's so unbelievably painful to hear her disgruntled on the phone and being pulled at like a ragdoll by all these selfish, awful, people. I want to fly out to california and give everyone a piece of my mind. It's just like when Lenna passed away and all my relatives turned money hungry, seeing green and pulling at my mother to go against Lenna's will. It's just disgusting. I just want to be with her and talk to her about London and traveling and school. I think I am starting to understand why my brother left for Colombia. He needed to escape. Grown tired of being used, and i'm sick and tired of all this STUFF.
If I had my life to live over, I'd dare to make more mistakes next time. I'd relax; I'd limber up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less beans. I would perhaps have more actual troubles, but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I'm one of those people who lived sensibly and sanely hour after hour, day after day. Oh, I had my moments, and if I had to do it over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments, one after the other, instead of living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I had it to do over again, I would travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over again, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would dance more; I would ride more merry-go-rounds. I would pick more daisies.
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