Reddish Musings

Whenever I look back at my life so far (a whole 20 years?  Yeesh.), I can't help but wonder how I was able to entertain myself so thoroughly growing up.  A book, a sandbox, a bug, that was all it took to get my imagination turning its figurative gears.  I could make adventures out of Word Searches, and often did.  I loved those things.

Well, to introduce the second step of making myself feel better, I must first explain that I am in the process of recovering from the Cold from Hell, accompanied by his brother, Possible Strep Throat.  The recovery included 5 days of antibiotics, missing class, and being in a haze while writing a paper that wasn't due until the week after because I mistakenly read the Old Syllabus.  

It’s odd, but I can tell a good day from a bad day very easily.

 A good day, I wake up, I take my pills, I brush my teeth, I read my news and webcomics, I do reading for class, I pack up and I go to class.  

A bad day?  I’m lucky if I even wake up.  But eventually I do, begrudgingly so.  I take my pills, but here’s where the difference comes:  A day can be decided on whether or not I brush my teeth.  

It’s gross, I know, but it’s a sign of the problems I sometimes face.  I do struggle with mild to moderate depression, and part of that mental disorder is the inability to do even the simplest of things, especially those that need doing.  

On a bad day, I look at my toothbrush and I think, “Eh. I’ll do it later.  Maybe after I eat something and read a little.”  Then I mope to my computer chair, huddle under a blanket and sulk about going to class until I either go late, or skip it altogether.  

 

So my theory is this: If a day can be determined by how I feel about brushing my teeth, can I beat the game by taking that out of the equation?  If I take my pills and brush my teeth, even while I’m sulking, will that jumpstart the process of other things that must be done?  Will I accept my duty and go to class anyway?  Will I do my homework?  Will I put down the WoW for long enough to live life?

It’s an interesting theory, at any rate.

So, little kiddies, brush your teeth.  And drink your milk, and take your vitamins, and do your homework, and clean your rooms.  Not because it makes your mom happy, because it just might be good for you after all.  Be health and head conscious!  Like me, the overweight and depressed college student who hates college!

Cheerio!

So, anyone who has been in contact with me recently has become somewhat aware of a few things. One, I hate school. Two, I'm getting married this Halloween, and I'm trapped in the craziness of wedding planning. Three, life is hard.

Basically, I let myself get trapped up in a ball of negativity that has been rolling along steadily for a few months now. It's not fun, and I refuse to stay with it any longer. In its place will be writing, listening to music, reading, meditating, happiness in the face of stress.

I will do what I must to make myself go to class, even if that means blocking out every stimulus besides music and the lecture once I get here, with the magic of my MP3 player. I will plan my wedding without fear of failure and without making myself stress to death. Instead, I will be grateful that I have been given the chance to marry someone so perfect for me.

I will not snap at my friends, or be unfriendly towards anyone. Being negative is the lazy response to life, and I have been coasting along on the tide of anger for too long. Behind every jerk who pisses me off is someone who probably has a problem I could care about, but hating them because of surface behavior is so much easier that I forget what I am.

I forget who I believe in, what I follow as my personal code for my life, and what the heart I've been given feels about people. I am not a negative person. I am not happy when I view the world through rage-colored glasses, and I have grown tired of living in that state of being.

So I'll stay to the sidelines in class, but I'll be here. I'll turn in my assignments, I'll do the readings, I'll pass the exams. I'll plan my wedding, I'll hang out with friends, I'll play my games and read my books, and I will keep my eyes open for what other people need while I do it. I have always been able to juggle many lives concurrently, it just happens that sometimes I get selfish and begin to feel angry at what I used to love doing.

I am only human, after all.

Oh, and I need to find a job or win the lottery. Good luck on that, right?

Class will be starting soon, but I wanted to write something, to document the turning point of this race I've been in. Wish me luck. The idea of turning off my MP3 player and listening to the dribble coming out of the other students' mouths is really not sitting well with me right now, but eventually I must.

*whimper*

Antisocial powers activate!

College and I are not getting along at the moment. It’s not something that’s easy to define, considering that I’m still pulling above a 3.5 GPA, despite my hatred of most of my classes/professors so far. In fact, regardless how much I realize that all of this nonsense is just high school again, with more pretension and unnecessary tedium (I didn’t even think that was possible), I still feel completely unsure of my every move.

I am good at school. I am a nerd. I like learning. The problem is that I hate inefficiency and I often feel paranoid that everyone knows something I don’t. Like, I do well on tests that everyone else does poorly on, yet they all seem to be doing better at this entire “college” thing than I am.

What sense does this make? I have a major, I have an idea for what I’d like to do with my life, albeit not all hammered out. I know I’d like to work as a counselor somewhere. Teaching seems like a good thing to do, as well, so maybe I just need to make up my mind about my chosen career path. That’s something most people in college have to do, so I’m certainly not behind in that regard. I’m engaged, I’ve got my own bills and debts to pay, and I make them monthly with no real problem. I’ve taken out loans, I’ve bought books, I’ve passed classes, and I’ve managed to not throw my life away by making dumb choices, so that puts me ahead of the curve somewhat, right?

So why do I feel so cripplingly inferior in every class I’m in? My confidence disappears when I step foot on this campus. I get jumpy, I feel lost no matter how many times I’ve been to the same classroom, and I’m constantly looking at every person walking by. I don’t even know many people on this campus, why should I be checking every face that goes by?

It just feels like everyone else is playing a different game. Including the professors, sometimes. It’s like, I’m here to learn and get my career going and get on with my life. Other people seem to be here to engage in the College Process, to play a game with credits and advisors and professors and acceptance letters, and I just want to get out. My goal is to reach End, get my diploma and get a life of my own. Their goals all seem to be to rack up as many accomplishments and inconsequential pieces of trash on the way as possible.

And the advisors here? Suck. So very hard. Every time I enter one of their offices with a question, I leave with a gray-area answer and more questions than I had going in. They are the anti-helpful. Not only that, they also mislead you on what it takes to get what you’re trying to do. One says you need to minor in an area to be able to teach it, another says you need to major in it. Some say, “Maybe you should change your major altogether, except you don’t really have to, because one guy didn’t, but maybe you should.”

Thanks for that golden advice, Mrs. Vague.

Maybe the problem is just how alone I feel. I recognize people in my major classes more and more, but I don’t… I don’t have any friends here. I’ve never been good at the friends-at-school game. I always had one or two in grade school, but that tapered off when the guys discovered girls. High school was just a game of being friendly and involved with groups at school, but I never had anyone to hang out with after school.

Now I have people to hang out with after school, but I can’t find anyone to relate to AT school. I’m here for the majority of my day, and I’m alone, stuck in my thoughts and concerns about inadequacy. Also I’m constantly exhausted. It’s just so tiring, life.

I just want to be done. I want to have a steady job, have some freedom, instead of constantly fighting back the stack of papers and homework that chase me down the halls. Instead of worrying about how much I hate my classes. Instead of being crushed by depression and anxiety, to the point of not being able to get out of bed to go to class, no matter how much I worry about my grade in doing so.

The older I get, the more my goal in life seems to be to not be bothered and not be noticed. I just want to get things done, and not be a hindrance to anyone else’s comings and goings. I want to blend in.

But I don’t. That’s not what I want, it’s just what I’ve been reduced to. I want to help people, I want to care, and I want to feel that passion I had for learning and getting grades and reading and helping out and… I want to live again.

If only this place would stop strangling me, I think I would be able to. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore. I mostly just want to sleep and cry.

I don’t think the Celexa is helping yet.

So, I've been through a few things in the past month or two since I posted on this dealy-o. I guess I kind of let it slip my mind... or really, I let myself ignore the urge to process and write about what was going on and instead focused on clinging to my problems like some kind of backwards life preserver.

But that's neither here nor there now, is it?

We're in Florida at the moment, Fiance and I. Sitting in our hotel room, because I have become too anxious and stressed to drive around in this frantic traffic in a new town (for me). We decided to take this day to relax... if that's even possible.

I've been having a very difficult time unwinding my little ball of stress lately. It's like it has become a part of me, something I love to lean on, because it gives me an excuse to feel as miserable as I do sometimes.

Without going into agonizingly melodramatic detail, it appears I should probably schedule myself an appointment with a psychiatrist at some point in the near future, perhaps in an effort to get some anti-depressants or anti-anxiety pills. Or at least to talk about my problems to someone who won't immediately make me blame my parents for everything, like my only other therapist did.

Being in a Neuroscience class, we went over what happens in a depressed brain. As we pored over the chemicals and the feelings and signs, something clicked. I had joked around about being "a little depressed" before, but it's been hitting me in longer, harder to shake off, chunks of time. I kept thinking that maybe "after this paper" or "after this project" or "after the finals are done" or "after we get off the plane and get the car and check into the hotel," maybe then I can finally relax and be happy.

Unfortunately, it doesn't appear to work that way. It would seem that I'm just unhappy, for no conceivable reason. I've been eating poorly and shirking off household responsibilities, all because I feel like sleeping and moping all the time. I've been sleeping more and feeling less rested, which just adds to the trouble.

I can go from happy to a stressed-out wrecking ball of anxiety in only a few seconds. When one thing doesn't go right, I'm spent. If I have to be around people for more than an hour, I'm exhausted, and so I've been ignoring my friends and being less emotionally available to Fiance. Something needs to change, and so it should. And I think it will. 'cause I don't want to live like this anymore.

Oh, also, my grandfather died. It has nothing to do with all of this, except adding to my stress level. He was my mother's father, and we all have very few happy memories with him. He was somewhat... negative towards my mother and my father, and towards everyone in his life. So all I can say is I hope he is finally happy wherever he is, and I hope my mother can relax soon.

She carried the world on her shoulders for the week he was in the hospital and near to death. Her whole family leaned on her through the whole experience, and you can really tell she needs some rest.

So... that's about all, really. I passed all of my classes and managed to come out with a high-enough GPA to secure my scholarship for another go-around. So now I'm going to focus on getting myself healthier in the head, and the body (which always helps with the head-bit, too), so I can tackle next semester without crying myself to sleep every night!

Fun!

I've been through quite a few experiences in my day. I went through almost all of my high school years glued to my laptop, playing World of Warcraft and chatting my days away with people from all over the world. It was nice, even if it was a tad bit... well, the word fake doesn't seem right. It wasn't fake, not to me, not then. They were real people, and we were real friends who cared about each other. I still keep in contact with a few of them, but now I know them by their real names instead of their characters. So we are now "real" friends, I suppose. I still haven't met them, though, so that makes them still pretty "imaginary" to those not in the know.

But anyway. In the midst of the chatting, relationships grew. Good friendships, and more. I had a few... oy, it seems almost silly to refer to them as "boyfriends" now, but I do have to admit that I felt more than a little bit in love with them at the time. So the term remains.

It was normally a gradual process - we would be in the same game channel, forum, or something, and make the same jokes. We would "get" each other. For one, it was just a lust of the moment. Someone was just paying attention to me, and I relished in it. We had somewhat similar tastes in music and movies and stuff, but there was nothing really cementing a relationship other than the fact that we were both looking for something. I'll refer to him as M.

M was Canadian, and quite a few years older than me. He also suffered from bipolar disorder, or something close to manic depression. He refused to take his medicines, and thus would be in slumps for days, treating me affectionately, and then ignoring my conversations entirely. I was a youth (15 or 16, he was 22), struggling to deal with life as an outcast, as someone different, and I realized pretty soon into it that I couldn't deal with his problems and shoulder my own. I spoke to a mutual friend about the problem, and he later found out that I had mentioned the medicines to her. That erupted in a pretty awkward, hurtful discussion after I had already broken things off with him.

A mistake, entirely. I knew that. But while I had been dealing with the burden of his depression and wondering if this was all I was meant for, I ran into another soul. This, this was N. N was also older than me - I was 16 at this point, and he was 20. A trend is emerging, no?

N was sweet. He was a Christian, something I had been lacking in M. He liked the same music as me, and some of the same books, albeit only on my "Christian" side, as I sometimes call it. I couldn't really share in my other indulgences with him, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, heavy metal rock music, and enjoying a good dirty joke here or there. In fact, he was kind of Puritan-esque, I would later come to realize. He was very sweet, though.

He had helped me through the ordeal with M, and before I knew it, we were writing stories together and flirting back and forth all the time. We ended up deciding to try long-distance dating. He sent me text messages full of funny stuff. We talked on the phone all the time. It was amazing. I felt cared about, instead of just someone who happened to be there.

Then things got weird. It's hard to really describe the devolution of this relationship, being that you have to understand my game world a little for it to make sense. I played World of Warcraft, on the Horde, on an RP server. This means that we all played the game for the sake of the story, building relationships between characters and players, in and out of character, building upon plots and ideas while enjoying the quest mechanics set forth in the game.

N had originally played on the Alliance. But he had switched over, and started a Horde character to pal around with all of us, not just me. We both had different characters that took part in different storylines, with little reason to overlap much. We were still in contact with each other often, just interacting with different people most of the time.

He started wanting to know who I was talking to, and what we were saying, and what was going on, and what it all meant. He also started to become suspicious of me, I think. There is a phenomenon of those who engage in Roleplaying on the internet to also "cyber," through the voice of either their character or themselves, which basically means write out sex back and forth.

Now that I've been in a real-life relationship, I understand how kind of hokey it is, but trust me - when you're lonely, it's tempting to seek that kind of contact, that want, that value, from anything.

He started, not pointedly, asking after where I was. My character had begun dating, it's true. It was purely an IC (in-character, meaning only between our characters) relationship, and the fellow manning the character she had a total crush on was sweet, but not someone I knew really well. It was an innocent love story.

N also came to visit, once. He came down around the Christmas time, stayed in a hotel nearby, and I chauffered him around for about a week. It was a nice visit - he was chubby and cute and geeky, and he was a gentleman. Too much of one, really. After being so lonely, I was waiting for someone to come sweep me off my feet. To hold me, to tell me how beautiful I was, despite my weight problem, and to kiss me and treat me like a Queen.

He treated me like a delicate object he had no idea how to handle, so he best not try at all. Hugs were hard to get out of him, and they were chaste. There was one night where we cuddled on the couch by the fireplace, but that was it. So, nice, but... underwhelming, after all of the buildup of having a REAL BOYFRIEND who was coming to VISIT ME.

When the questions about where I was and who I was with began to become too much, I finally broke down. I called things off with him a month or two after his visit, which admittedly, he had paid for (we had paid for his hotel room). I felt bad about it, but it just wasn't working. He lived across the country from me, he was paranoid and suspicious, and it was driving me nuts. He even had the gall to ask how I felt about C, the boy who controlled my character's then-fiance.

Well, maybe gall isn't the right word. I had started to fall for C. He was sweet and kind, and slow to anger. He had a sense of humor and humility about him. He was also a broken human being, and God help me, I had the urge to Mother the hell out of him and save him from this cruel world.

C was my first love. To this day, I still wish nothing but the best for him, but I couldn't help him. He was also 20 (lol) and I was 17 I think around this point. We were together for 8 months. I remember that one. It started a while after I broke things off with N, but probably not long enough for his liking. *shrug*. I was young, my heart went where it pleased, and as a side note - N had been cybering with HIS character's WIFE behind my back since basically he started his character. He also tried to whip his e-penis out when one of my friend's characters was around him. While we were dating, both of these things. So, sexual repression and paranoia, much? ANYWAY. C.

My family went on a vacation around Yellowstone, and we took him with us, stayed in a big condo we rented for a week. I kissed him on that trip, tired of waiting for the right moment. Unfortunately, it scared him. He was too... I don't know. Damaged. My heart still breaks thinking about him. I have no romantic intentions towards him anymore, I just want someone to come rescue him from the doldrums that he lives in.

That leaves us finally with K, whose name also starts with C, but for ease of distinguishing, we will call him K. After things got too depressing with C - he was moving with his family, he was unwilling or unable to enroll back in school, but he didn't want to move nearer to me to start a job or education, so we were stuck still in a long-distance tango, and I realized that I just couldn't fix it for him. I was miserable, he was miserable, and it just... wasn't working.

He quit playing the game, so I hadn't seen him, his character with mine basically dropped off the face of the planet, so I just went back to questing solo and trying to remain friendly with everyone else I knew.

There was K. He had always been a member of the channels I frequented. He was surly. He was mean, in a funny way, and everyone loved to hate him. He was the one who poked fights on the forums just to watch people start squawking. It was fun for him.

Also, he was C's best friend before C moved. I met him when we picked C up for that trip. Just the once. He, also, was damaged.

I could write pages and pages on each of these people's roles in my life. K was probably the most frustrating of all of them, the final straw, if you will. He and I were like yin and yang. Where he was surly and pessimistic, I was full of e-hearts (<3) for everyone. Where he liked cussing and flaming, I liked smoothing things over with people. Naturally, attraction was inevitable.

We flirted up a storm. He would show me kindness he showed nobody else in that world of his. I would poke and tease him, and he would take it with a patience, again, nobody else got to see. It sort of evolved into that whole "But you don't know the real side of him!" thing.

It ended basically as soon as it began. He seems to follow this strange cycle of chasing me. We would flirt, we would discuss, we would stay up late chatting... until we decided to go for being boyfriend/girlfriend. Then we would promptly forget how to behave with one another. He would go stale and surly in discussions, then mix that with being overly caring and boyfriend-like. It was as though we were both trying way too hard, and it just strangled the thing.

Eventually, I decided against the ordeal, 3 months or so into it, and we called it quits. We didn't talk much for a while, as was my custom with people I had cut ties with. Then, months later, presents show up for my birthday, from him, and I start talking to him again. Same ol' thing. We discuss, we flirt, we tease, we banter. Things are good. I offer to come visit, thinking things are maybe going to be good this time.

I pay $900 for a trip to Mid-Western America, to be tugged back and forth with misleading clues for what felt like an eternity shoved into a week's timespan. I was told he didn't want to be in a relationship, because, for real, he said this: "Bros before hoes," in response to being friends with C, when months before, in our FIRST attempt, he had said "Forget C, I want this." When I visited, he had really stopped talking much to C, due to his moving, and their drifting apart.

Then he would hold me, we would sit close, he would wrap his arm around me and treat me like a girlfriend, only to tell me again he didn't want anything. He said he was attracted to me, but then he wasn't interested in the long-distance, and back and forth and back and forth.

I left heartbroken and miserable, uncertain of where we stood, and also pretty angry.

Another side note - months after that whole visit debacle, after I had already begun dating my fiance, K called around Christmas time. I didn't even know he still HAD my phone number. It was awkward, to say the least. He apparently has taken up drinking and being miserable. So it's probably best for both of us that I'm not there.

At this point in my life, though... I forgive him. It wouldn't have worked, and I guess we both knew it, I was just desperate for someone to love me already. I was willing to sacrifice education for almost all of these men. I was willing to throw away cheaper tuition rates to try to go to school in states (and COUNTRIES) I'd never lived in, forever away from my family. I was willing to sacrifice everything for love.

And all of these things came together today to make me realize something - They taught me how to know what I want. When I look at my fiance, I see someone who is kind, patient, giving, loving, forgiving, and a Believer to boot. He doesn't get angry, he has never been mean to me in any action or word (on purpose - he flails in his sleep). He was close to me (he moved from Florida to Texas just before we started dating... literally, like, we met on OKCupid, talked for 2 weeks, then he moved here and we were inseparable, and it wasn't for me that he moved). He is older than me. He is smart, he loves reading, he loves music, he loves drama without needing to cause it. He trusts me, and I him. And he doesn't lead me on and disappoint me.

For once in my life, I am loved the way I needed to be, and I am able to love back the way I longed to. We were watching a bad horror/zombie movie today, and I realized as we joked back and forth, and also when he was laying back on my stomach as we both read books of our own likings... this is all I want. I'm going to school, I'm pursuing a career I think utilizes the most of my abilities in dealing with people, and I'm marrying a man who makes me happy, and who is happy with me in return.

There's no gut-wrenching feelings of guilt and misery as I sit there waiting for an IM response from someone I'm not sure how to love. There's no teeth-tightening sensations of agony as my stomach twists as I realize that I am unhappy here. There's only hope and comfort as I know that no matter what the future holds, we can be happy curled up together.

This is incredibly lengthy, and probably dull to anyone who doesn't know me, but it was more of a needing to get it out than looking for an audience.

All of these internet trysts, whether I met them in person or not, they all had their hand in my formation of romance and respect for myself. I don't understand the internet the way I used to, now that I see what it is like to really be loved. I think some long-distance relationships work (hi James and Aria!), but for the most part - I wouldn't trade being able to rub my fiance's head while he shoots Spies in Team Fortress 2 for the world.

Life is happening really quickly these days. Nothing out of the ordinary has occurred, but I've found myself kind of waking up on Mondays and going "Wow, it's next week already? I barely did what I needed to do LAST week!"

Which is an unfortunate sentiment, but true nonetheless. Ah, well. Things are still getting done as they need to be, and I'm still treading water in all of my classes, despite a crippling bout of depression that has kept me feeling down and out. And by treading water I mean acing tests and doing okay on the ones I thought I for-really-real bombed.

I have taken out, as they say, a new lease on life. It's hard, but we get through it. I've got to learn to open up and rely on other people. I realized last week that the more I focus inward on my own problems, the less I notice other people's struggles. And I don't think I'm here to do nothing but gripe about my life. I think I was given a heart that loves fully, and I think I've been terrified to use it lately.

Because bringing people who aren't me into my life means surrendering control over the simple, albeit sometimes lonely existence that I live. By fully believing the lies that my brain likes to throw at me, I lock other people out. Letting depression take control of my thoughts, my tears, all of me, keeps me from being reached by the people I most desperately need.

I recently had to acknowledge the fact that I don't have much money. That may not a big surprise when you take into the account that I am in school, with no job, and no income other than just what I need to clear my share of the bills. However, that fact scared me. It made me feel something of a failure.

How backwards is that? Needing to rely on my fiance, who has a job and a steady income, to help buy groceries and gas, made me feel BAD. So many people in this world would squeal to have the opportunity to rely on someone else, and I'm moping because I have someone who's willing to shoulder that responsibility?

Seriously, I worry about my head sometimes.

But I know where it comes from. I've been a loner for a long time, and even though I've been with him for over a year now, the idea that someone is there for me in any and every capacity still seems so foreign. I had to take care of myself, for the most part, growing up. Sure, my parents paid the bills and bought me food, but emotionally and academically, I fended for myself. My parents loved me and raised me well, but my sister ate up a lot of our existence. Still does.

That's a blog entry for another time, though.

Regardless, I've been so used to isolation that it became my strength. And I've just come to realize that being alone is not strength. Being strong on your own isn't any feat - what battles do you come against when you have no friends or enemies? Being able to work with people beside you, to stand on your feet when you're afraid, to have the confidence not to back down in any of life's ordeals... that's strength. And it can only happen when you let people in and start living life, instead of hiding from it and pretending that's enough.

It's a hard lesson. One I'm still working on mastering, I'm more than ready to admit. But I've noticed changes in myself. I'm happier, despite this hormonal drag these new pills have set me on. I'm more willing to voice my opinions in groups, in classes, in hallways. What is there to fear? As long as you respect others, you can do a lot more good by speaking out than you can by sitting still.

Nobody can hurt me if I don't let them. Sure, they can say mean things, but I have control over how I react, and it's been easier to just... do what I need to get done, school-wise, but also feel happy and secure in my own existence.

My body is mine. My thoughts are mine. My humor, my style, my heart, it all makes up me, and I've come to realize that people kind of like me. I'm by no means nearing narcissism here, but it's a nice feeling.

Anyway. I am waiting for a Joss Whedon Fan Club meeting to organize here in the Comet Cafe. We're working on getting this sucker started, and I am dedicated to making friends and having Common Interests.

Take that, negativity.

All right, so it has kind of been made clear to me that I may have been overreacting about my health issues. Not in mean ways, just in very clear "It's not the end of the world" tones. Of course, when I feel like I was feeling, those kind of statements irritate me. How dare people bring logic and rationality into my sulking?

So, yes. I have readjusted my thinking a tad. The pain is the number one problem for the time being. I have been given pills to help combat that, and we will see how those work before I even start to whine about not being able to fix it.

The other side effects of the diagnosis (which are very much up in the air) are not immediate threats to my daily life, nor are they things I should really focus on. I have too much to panic about to let things that might happen years from now bring me down.

I mean, I have a test soon for a class that I've somehow magically missed 3 chapters in. Oops! But I'm here for review today, so I hope it helps.

And the economy is failing! That's always fun! I'm seriously considering shifting some of my future goals to help anticipate less of a falling out when I get my new shiny Bachelor's Degree. I was already contemplating getting a teaching certificate while I'm here, and now I'm thinking that's a wise choice. I still would like to pursue a Master's in Child Development and all that, but for now, I'd also like to make sure I have a marketable skillset on board.

So there.

Not panicking. Much.

...I still have to fight this urge to run away and get married and live out in the country running a small bookstore and restaurant. *shifty*

Life seems to gang up on people. I'm not arrogant enough to think the entire world and the cosmos are out to get me, but I can make a case, perhaps a convincing one, that the world and the cosmos are out to get all of us... sometimes, anyway.

See, things go pretty smoothly for a while.

Then one day, you wake up. You get out of bed, and you lean down to pick up something, and you hit your head on your nightstand.

Ouch, but you continue. You wander into the bathroom, but your turn is just a few degrees too sharp, your toe runs right into the frame of the door. More ouch. You start wondering if maybe you should go back to bed. But, that's really not an option and there's stuff to do, so you keep going.

Dressing goes okay, except you find out that your bra (or, I dunno, boxers or something) has a broken clasp or the underwire is twisted or poking out, or something. Whatever, you pad it with a bandaid and move on.

From then on, it's anybody's guess what could happen. You're out of oatmeal, milk, berries, bread, anything. You get cut off and almost run into by a handicapped driver. Your class is cancelled. Your blinker in your car goes screwy. Your car won't start. Your bills come and overdraft your checking account with something you hadn't even expected.

The list goes on, and on, and on.

So why does this all have to happen in such a tight space? Why can life not wait to spread out negativity? Some would say that so many bad things in so short an amount of time could be a sign of something bad. Something you weren't supposed to do.

Others would say it's a test, that you'll be stronger for making it through.

Me? I just think life is cyclical. I don't think much of karma on a small scale. Astrology has yet to make much sense to me, except where the earth rotates in a pattern and I think life swings in a pattern, but these two orbitals don't intersect at any specific, trackable points.

Divination, psychic powers, all of that really boils down to the universal truth that life is sometimes good, but it carries with it the danger of turning on you. This causes fear in people who feel they have the right to know what life is going to throw at them next time around. It's easy to tell people they feel fearful and concerned about finances and their love life... because really, who doesn't?

But when it's happening, all I can do is sit there and tell myself, "This, too, shall pass." Because it normally does. Everything just gets so much more uncertain and stressful when the pendulum swings back to hit me in the face.

Maybe part of growing up is enjoying the swing up, but preparing for the swing back down without losing it when it happens. Not taking things for granted.

Yeah, that sounds good.

Personally, I think part of growing up is also just learning to fake being a grown up.