not today...

Woke up early -- not tired a bit. Got up, got dressed, got it under control.  Cute hair, cute dress, cute shoes, cute girl. Ready for another day.

Not ready for the questions.

They came from all directions. Concerned faces, hushed voices, worried looks and whispers.

How's your dad?
How's your family?
What did the doctors say?
What treatments is he getting?
What changes has he made?
Is he happy? Is he sad?
Are you all doing okay?
Is there anything we can do?
How's your mom?
How are your sisters?
(but worst)
How are YOU?

Sympathetic hands laid upon my arm, hugs and promises and ever more questions.

DON'T TOUCH ME I don't scream,
GO AWAY I don't say.

They believe that they are being kind. Which is why I answer -- wrote and boring -- but it's what they want to hear.

He's fine. He's tired.
They're all busy.
Shots. Pills.
Doctors. Bills.
Happy, yes. Sad, no.
Okay -- I assume so. I'm not home much.
I don't know -- I don't live at home -- I don't know what they need.
She's tired.
They're busy.
(they wait expectantly)
I'm fine, too.

I don't tell them that I'm tired. I don't tell them to go away. Instead, I go.

Left church early -- couldn't stand it anymore. Held back tears -- didn't want to explain. Escaped the people and the words and the problem they all want to dwell on. Stood under a tree and listened -- bees buzzing above my head, birds chirping in the bush, heat singing over the ground -- they ask nothing of me. No more questions.

Not today.

what will the neighbors say...

Lately I've been feeling incredibly blue, and it's not because my jeans have an unfortunate tendency to dye my ankles even after being washed several times. No, it's definitely a mood thing. What with LDC being over, no school, still no job, and no show to rehearse for, I have nothing to do. That equals boredom, which equals copious amounts of time to think, which equals bad thoughts. Not like, BAD thoughts. Just unhappy thoughts.

Speaking of thoughts, I interrupt this post to ask a question: why would a radio station play a recording of a song from a live concert? That's weird. Anyway, interruption over.

I have been so incredibly tired lately. Problem: even though I'm tired, it takes forever for me to be able to finally fall asleep. And because I can't sleep, I have even more time to think, which leads to more unhappy thoughts. There is no way that I'd even be able to attempt getting off the ground if Peter Pan were to come by my window (which he wouldn't, seeing as my windows are three inches above the ground).

Because of this down-ness and tiredness, the cloudy days have been even more wearing than they usually would. So to try and combat my ridiculous brain I went for a very long walk, in and around my neighborhood at about a mile wide radius. The best part? It was pouring rain.
So there I am, wearing sparkly silver toms, blue jeans, a t-shirt under a cotton jacket, and my hair a tangled mess, walking through my neighborhood in the pouring rain. When I was half a block from my house, it stopped raining and I looked at my reflection in a large puddle on the sidewalk. My clothes were on the drenched side of damp. My hair was a wild mass of dripping curls. My cheeks were pink with cold. My eyes were brighter than they've been in days.

Thought process: Hm. I look slightly mad. *tilt head to the side* Still... *tilt head to other side* hm...I could actually be considered a "hot mess". Maybe, by the right person. *look around* Hm...I look crazy. *look at reflection again and grin like an idiot* If only I knew what the neighbors were thinking.

I still smell like rain.

steps that cannot be retraced...

...I made a decision tonight...

It was done without thought and out of desperation, a feeling that I have been plagued with for a few days. More like months, actually. I just didn't know it or wouldn't recognize it. I've been fighting off feelings of every kind for a long time; there's no time for emotion, or pain, for that matter, anymore.

But sometimes things happen that crack the pretense of confidence and security. And it truly is pretense. The happy, friendly exterior of a person often hides darker, deeper thoughts and fears. Fears which might even be suppressed and hidden from oneself. It can be shame, or guilt, or escape from pain, or anger at having such feelings. But they are still there: the doubts, the faults, the weaknesses. Each person, struggling day by day through their own personal troubles. Many of which no one will ever know. Many of which, I believe, occur most often inside hearts and minds.

Friendships fail; relationships die. New ones begin, but in all cases the past creeps its fingers into the heart and pries open old wounds-the fear of repeated pain causes one to fall inward. It is the same for things dreamed of, for things hoped for. The long awaited triumph that never comes, the bitter disappointment of being so close, but not making the mark. Dreams, once unwrapped gently like shining glass ornaments and viewed with starry eyes, are placed in dusty boxes and forgotten. Hopes, left untended and alone, shrivel and die like a flower gone too long without water. The continual pain of disappointment often leaves one an empty shell, merely existing. Not truly living.

Every person carries scars. Some scars are only skin deep, with stories behind them, whether sad or brave. Other scars are more painful. Scars of rejection; scars of failure; scars of shame; scars of guilt. Even love causes scars. And sometimes, the personal struggles can leave permanent, easily viewed damage. Broken skin, torn and bleeding, releasing the pain one cannot understand. Broken hearts, brutally ripped apart, beating unevenly in a sobbing gasp. Broken things, tender children with souls of sorrow, faces bent to the ground. For we are all children, in a way. We are all, very much, children, broken and beaten by the world.

I was once told to follow my heart. To do what I wanted most; to be what I wanted to be. I asked them what it meant to follow my heart. In response, I was told "to do what your heart tells you". With a shrug, I replied, "You know, I don't know what my heart tells me to do. It beats-I exist. Nothing more."

...but somehow, things have changed...

There are conflicting thoughts and feelings in my heard. There is terror at the thought of letting go. For so long I have been defined by depression and fear. For so long I have placed a shield between myself and the world. "I can't do it because of depression." "I can't ever be like that because of how I feel inside." "I can't; I'm too afraid." "I'll only fail-why even try?"

...no more...

I know now what I want; I know what my heart's desire is. And this decision-this choice-I pray will set me on the path to what I long for most. It will not be easy, for I am learning that the best choices are often times the most painful. I feel that pain now-the fear to let go-the pain that brings quiet tears and tremors from head to foot. It's terrifying, in more ways than one. But the alternative? The alternative is even more frightening.

My choice has been made. My course is set. The path I have begun will not take me back to where I was earlier this evening. I cannot go back. It will not ever be easy, not as long as I live. But I will learn. I will fail at times, but I will learn how to hope. I will learn how to dream.

...I will learn to live again...

oh, that was a step...and i kinda missed it...

Today has been an off day, like when you're walking down the sidewalk and kind of hit the curb funny. You don't fall down or trip, you just sort of stumble. *step, step, step, stumble! oh!* Yeah. Nothing has gone wrong at all, and everything's been pretty right, but it's just been off.

My BYU application deleted itself, which isn't too horrible because the deadline isn't until December 1st. I've got a couple of weeks.

I'm going to fail my Meteorology exam tomorrow. Seriously. I looked over the study guide tonight and almost said bad words. Then I almost cried. I took notes in class, read the chapters, paid attention, and I'm clueless. School sucks.

On a high note, my Reflections entry is all ready to go. Well, almost. There are a couple things I need to fill out on the media release form thingy, but I have to ask the office what they want me to put because I don't know what region I'm in, what "local" means in the context of a blank line following it, and what I should put for "track" and "teacher". So yeah. Oh, and another good thing. I was SO frustrated with this stupid "Regina's Log" thing that we had for a quiz today in Algebra. Then I looked at my t-chart table thing and suddenly SHA-zam! I totally figured it out. It was majorly epic (only because it will probably never happen again, so it was epic in a major way).

Now I'm going to be completely honest. I am not a trusting person. Pretty much at all. I am here on this blog-heck, you know almost everything about me. Almost. But it's different online. You can choose who you want to be here. You can block a commenter, delete a link from your blog roll, stop reading someone's posts. I'm not a stupid girl. I may be an open book, but not stupid.

Ha ha ha ha ha. Not stupid, eh? Oh, no. I've just trusted someone with the biggest secret of my life. And the whole time I talked there was, and is, this nagging suspicion in my brain that says "You moron. He is totally going to betray you. You idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot. You're crazy. Why are you telling him this? You can't trust him. He'll listen and pretend to care and drop you like a stone into a river. So why are you trusting him? Hmmmmmm?"

Do you ever feel like that? Do you feel like I do, wanting to be able to trust someone? Needing to see that someone out there will let you talk to them without betraying your confidence? Do you ever do what I did? Have you ever given a person the power to hurt you while hoping beyond hope that they won't?

Stupid girl. Off days are dangerous days. I make myself vulnerable.