#YesAllWomen...

i don't want to be a victim.
i don't want to be running scared,
walking through the world like there's a target on my back,
worried that someday, somewhere, someone is waiting.
watching.
waiting.
waiting for the perfect moment -- to strike.

i don't want to be paranoid. i don't want to be afraid;
constantly re-living the past. always aware of an unknown -- unseen -- unnamed --
threat.

because that's how i've been living.
that's what i've become.
this is the world that i inhabit, that i understand, that i know appears irrational
-- but i also know to be horribly. nightmarishly.
real.

nothing to do but do...

A phrase comes up a lot in conversation these days. I say it, my friends say it, my family members say it -- after we take turns detailing the hard things that we're facing or the stresses brought on by work, school, health, and other things, we say with a shrug and a half-sort of smile, "Eh. What can you do?"

It's as though it's a socially constructed way of saying, "Thank you for listening to my problems, and don't try to help me -- I just needed to talk."

It's true, in a lot of ways. So many things just have to be done, regardless of the difficulty or the heartache. Life doesn't stop for anyone. Unless you happen to have a billion dollars in your bank account, of course -- then you can tell the world what to do and it has to listen. Money talks a lot louder than anything else.

I keep looking at the things in my life and I'm sometimes amazed that I get anything done. I'm honestly baffled that I'm accomplishing anything at all.

Sometimes I look at other people's lives and feel grateful that I don't have their struggles. They're so strong -- sometimes it makes me feel even weaker -- I couldn't do what they're doing.

Everybody's got something. For me, and for everybody else -- despite the physical pain which grows worse by the day, the emotional issues that creep in the background, the lack of sleep due to nightmares and pain, and the immense anxiety caused by deadlines, health problems, bills, and what-have-you -- we just keep going.

Eh. What can you do?

Everything, apparently.

when it hits you...

I can't say I didn't sleep last night, because if I'm dreaming, I'm most likely asleep. I can say, though, that I am quite possibly the most insecure person I know.

Really. All of the nightmares I had last night were incredibly eye-opening. I am so, so, so insecure that it's ridiculous. 

Insecure and self-absorbed. 

Bug.

a little note...

Once upon a time, I woke up from an unexpected nap on a bench at school and found this note on my laptop. I don't know who it's from, but he or she is fantastic:

Then, one time this afternoon, I fell asleep at the tutor table during my shift. I awoke with a jolt from a rather graphic nightmare. Chloe, sitting next to me, asked if I was okay and kept shooting glances at me while I pretended things were fine -- the images were rather disturbing.

When I returned from a tutorial, I found this on my books:

The top half of the note says, "You can do it! One more week!"

There are a lot of nice people in this world. I'm lucky that I call some of them my friends (because I'm pretty sure the person who gave me the anonymous note is a friend -- I just don't know which one -- after all, whoever it was did write my name on the note!)

sometimes I'm dumb...

I've often imagined what it would be like if confronted with my worst nightmare. Usually I end up heroic, speaking eloquently and powerfully, standing up for myself and leaving with a firm, final statement that ends everything and turning on my heel, leaving the room with a metaphorical bang.

In reality, I ran as though chased by a horde of Mordor orcs and hid in a bathroom stall, sobbing. And then sobbing at home on my couch with my room mate and friend. And then crying in my room. And then staying up all night because I couldn't sleep.

My nightmares came alive last night -- and it was awful. More awful than I imagined. I was pathetic. I panicked and ran like a child. I cried and cried, so hard that strangers stopped me and tried to help.

I was so stupid. So stupid, stubborn -- Miss Independent, thinking she'd be fine on her own, that no way would anything happen, that I'd be left alone. So many people, odds in my favor. Psh. I'm an idiot. 

I wish I was braver. I wish I'd been able to stand up for myself and tell it like it really is. To end it, once and for all.

But I couldn't do it. Chelsea and Kenna told me that running was good, and that it was even brave, because I got out of the situation. They were so nice to me last night, letting me cry and sitting with me. They even let me say what I was really thinking, and they didn't judge me for it (I used a couple of words that I save only for certain occasions -- funnily enough, I don't feel guilty). 

I want to sleep. I'm so tired -- this day has been so, so hard. Thank goodness it's almost over. But, I'm glad to be at school. 

Nobody can find me here.