“Every evening I turn my worries over to GOD. He’s going to be up all night anyway.”
For the past few weeks I’ve been very lazy and just bored out of my mind. When I was doing physically therapy twice a week, for thirteen weeks. I was very nervous at first because I didn’t think I would being around a bunch of elderly people. For the first two sessions, I was fine. I no longer had that worry and I was actually bringing my happy face everytime I went there and they seemed to enjoy me being around them. So before I finished my time there. I started remembering when I was about to start college and it was everything I wanted just wasn’t going to happen like I wanted. As I was doing my online classes, I was becoming very depressed. I never went to the doctor for it, because I don’t think anybody really understood why I was so upset. When something doesn’t work out the way you want it, and as quickly as you want it to, I can understand you can get very sad. For me, as a person who didn’t understand my parents worries about me living on campus and everything else. Two weeks before I was supposed to start my classes, things started turning around and I begin falling into this dark hole, if you will. I was there for probably four and a half months. Somehow I got out of it by December. The reason why I’m talking about it on here is because I’m afraid my body is getting me ready to send me down that dark hole again.
It has been two weeks and I miss the routine of it. So when I was sad about stopping therapy, I was more afraid of not finding something that would get me in some type of routine again. That’s what I liked about school, I had five days of getting up at 7am and coming home at 3pm and do it all over again. Yeah, it was tiring at times, but you don’t realize how much you need that after not having it. After stopping therapy, I was worried about how long it’ll take me to find something to get me into a routine again. I haven’t done my stretches either for two weeks either. I definitely saw that one coming too. Yeah, some of them are my fault, but my arms are not getting worked on. I can’t do my arm stretches on my own either. I’m just getting tired of waiting for something to come. They always say, if you want something, go get it. Well, explain to me how I’m supposed to get something when I don’t even know what I want? That’s my excuse for not going back to college. I feel like if I continue to go on like this, I may not get myself out of this depression.
Well I’ve caught the bug. That nasty bug that everybody in this house has had. We’re actually trying to figure out who had it first. My dad and I are the ones who have at the moment. Mom came home Friday night from work feeling like her head was going to explode. Not a good image, isn’t it? That morning, she was feeling it even more. Saturday’s are our days of going to nana’s for lunch and mom does her errands. Well, mom didn’t feel like she should or could even get out of the house. So she waited until Sunday, and she was still sick. But since I don’t get out much, the weekends are somewhat of a relieve for me. However, I didn’t want mom to get worse and I knew nobody else wants whatever she has. I woke up Wednesday morning with my throat very groggy. At first, I thought it was just because of how little I drank any of my pop last night.
I went to bed that night around 10:30pm or 11pm. I was really tired apparently, but I didn’t feel like I was. I still had all my energy, but as soon as I tweeted on my phone to my Twitter, “Goodnight” I was out like a light. I didn’t get up until 9am that morning. I slept a lot. So when I got up, and noticed my voice and the feeling on the back of my throat was just weird. I immediately thought, oh great, now I’m sick. Then I got a drink of my pop I had from last night. Just to see what all would change. I was definitely holding on to something positive. Afterwards, my throat wasn’t so bad. Then Thursday came, not only did my throat feel like crap. My chest and lungs felt horrible. I was also coughing as well, but I know how to contain my coughs so I only let one or two out at a time. I don’t like to cough because of my history of gagging in the middle or during one of my coughing fits. I got some interesting stories I could tell about that, but I don’t want to disgust anybody.
Last night mom gave me medicine. One of those people, who would rather take pill like cold medicine than the liquid shit. It’s less disgusting and the after taste doesn’t last for hours on end. And telling yourself act like you’re already 21 and its alcohol, doesn’t work anymore. Trust me, I’ve tried every thought to not make myself want to vomit some of this stuff (sorry) and haven’t found something to calm me down. I just hate all medicine to be honest with you. I hardly take painkillers anymore because I want to feel strong enough to get through it on my own. If I do ask for anything, I don’t just go to my strong stuff. I’d rather have about two Advils. Something that happened last night that got me thinking, a little after I laid down from having my medicine my back and right foot started acting up. They started twitching almost unbearable. I had to wrap my left foot around my right foot just to feel some comfort. My back had some spasms underneath my shoulder blades. I was in one strange position on my bed. I was slightly turned to my left on my hips and my back was flat on the bed. My feet were twisted a little. It’s hard to explain, but I was going to get through this pain without medicine and I had just ended my prayers and I didn’t think God needed to read this last problem I had, I was going to get through myself.
I expected a sleep-less night. I managed to go to sleep. But I woke up at 5am and surprisingly went to back to bed to only get waken up by my mom to take me to the bathroom before she went back to sleep. By this time, I had a massive headache after actually going back to sleep after waking up at 5am. After, she tucked me back in my bed and I passed back out. I forgot to tell her about the pain last night. She still doesn’t know, actually nobody knows until now. I don’t remember telling her anything really. I was tired, so I was probably half asleep because after she put back in my bed I passed back out and didn’t wake back up until 10am. My phone kept exploding (vibrating) so I got tired of it and just opened it to see all these tweets of my wonderful friends. Most were #FF’s (Follow Friday) I’d been included in and I haven’t gotten that much in a long time. I love them, they’re awesome people!
Two days after Christmas, I had a fit. I go through these every once in a while. It happens when I get aggravated at things in my life and everybody that is around me. I either go into a depression or want to move away. I tend to go back and forth between the two. The depression only lasts to a day or so. By the next day, something’s made me happy and I’m better. Well, the moving away part. I’ve wanted to move out on my own for a long time. When I was in high school, my parents had always told me that moving out would be a little hard to do. I would need 24 hour care. To others, they don’t need care. They’ll go off to college and have a roommate. In my case, I would have to have a nurse by my side 24 hours. In my mindset, when I get upset at the situations I see in front of me. I want to move away from it, but when I get mad about these things everybody makes me think of things I’m going to need to do those things. I don’t hang out with my friends anymore. When I did though, I felt like a burden on them because they had to do everything, well mostly. Same with my parents, I feel bad and especially whenever I bring it up because it doesn’t seem to go well as I’ve tried to plan it in my head.
When I went to my mom’s work on Sunday, I got a taste of what my life would’ve been like. However, lots of these people are older. Some of the younger ones, go to group homes. Parents or families have dropped them off. I hate that. It literally tears my heart out. I’ve met somebody whose had that life. I wouldn’t know what to do if that was me. I’m young. I like to stay up late, listen to my music loud and do what I want to do. If somebody ripped that away from me I’d be crushed. I already have trust issues with people. That would ruin anybody’s chances of getting anywhere near my trust. So in this case, going to my mom’s workplace was a wake up call. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how my life would be like staying at a place like that. I don’t know how much they get to experience as an average person would, but for me to be in their situation would scare me.
Something else that got me thinking was that I’m always afraid of not finding Mr. Right. I’ve got so much hate for every guy in my hometown that I’m worried that he’ll never come my way because I’m stuck here. I don’t want to meet anyone online on these dating sites because I’m an easy target for any con artist. I’ve seriously thought this through. But I’ve just thought about everything that could go wrong just for meeting somebody who seems charming. I don’t see myself meeting anybody new or old who is having second thoughts (haha!) and it might be because every guy around me has always rejected me over the years. It’s not healthy to think about it over and over, but it’s nothing different from thinking about your other half all night long. Mine has both sides, good and bad. I’ve tried to be patient. Waiting for God’s signal, but like with my drawings, these thoughts keep coming to me.
I’m the last person that wants to get all religious on my blog. I know everybody has their own ways to believe in him. Different religions, some I think are really cool and some I think are just weird, but I’m not going to get into that. For the ones who don’t necessary believe in God, I have nothing against you. So with all this out-of-the-way. Let’s get into it.
Every night around 10 or 11pm I pray. I have this routine at night, I can’t pray when I have music on because I have a pretty big list of people and I get lost with music on. I feel bad everytime I forget somebody and there have been times in the middle of the night where I will remember who I forgot and will just pray for them right there and then. In my prayer list, everybody in a category. I’m not even kidding. I only did it that way so my brain wouldn’t get lost and would remember everybody that way. I pray for countries that are not doing well, soldiers and their families, homeless people and their families, animals everywhere (meaning in dangerous situations), people and children being abused, raped, trackiffied, and abducted. That’s on the top right corner of my brain and so on.
I’m debating into talking about my whole prayer list because I’d not like for God to be mad at me for posting my list onto the world. I mostly pray for anybody who needs him. Something I do at night is I leave myself for last. I don’t like asking God to necessarily take care of me. I know there are more people out in the world that need him more than I do. As much as different people might disagree with that, I’m always thinking of others before myself. I hate making people guilty about themselves and anytime I do something stupid to people, I pray for them and not for me. I’m the stupid idiot who started it, why do I need to be prayed for? I don’t really want others praying for me either. There are more people out in the world who have worst things going on in their lives than me. So why bother?
I put everybody first. I hate everytime I do something stupid we all do. I pray to God that I hope he watches over them. That’s it. I don’t pray for forgiveness, because sometimes I don’t think I deserve it. In my conversations with God, I tend to ask questions. Like, why does this happen to that family? The little girl from Indiana, she went missing on Christmas Eve, I believe. They found her dismembered body in a family “friends” house. Why would anybody do that to a little girl, especially so close to holidays? It makes me angry and sad at the same time. Because you can’t change it, she’s with God now and watching over her family and friends. Not going to lie, since I heard about her, I’ve thought about my own funeral. If I was to die, I wouldn’t want people crying for me. I’d rather it be a funny gathering. I would rather it be a happy thing than anything else. I would feel horrible if they were grieving for me. I’ve lived an interesting life of ups and downs. For the most part, it’s been fun. I’m learning my way around certain things. I also think there should be a Just Dance party afterwards, but that’s me for you! I think people should enjoy themselves. Celebrating the life I had. Did I just summon death? God, if you’re reading this, I just kidding!