If I were to step out of my body and observe myself from a different perspective I would imagine feeling dumbfounded at how someone can possibly go from sane to paranoid, then finally to borderline depressed. The last one might have been a bit stretched, but it was a good way of implying how crazy and absurd I've been acting. Over the time span of three days starting from Tuesday night, I have some how managed to peak the scale of mellow dramatic. That being said, I find it necessary to blog out all the nonsense that I've been feeling, in hopes of justifying my ludicrous actions. The next hour or so will be dedicated to the distressed conveyance of my fears, actions, and downright obscenity.
Somehow, during my most erratic hours, I managed to indulge in three mugs of French vanilla coffee and enough cookies to feed a small third world country. It's embarrassing, even to myself, to realize how miserable I am about the ever-increasing status of my weight; yet I never cease to think about food, especially when I'm feeling like I'm at the lowest point in my life. I risked my life and body to take my dog on a walk at three in the morning to a park where, to date, two gun fights, one murder, three rapes and countless skinned knees (to say the least) have occurred. I don't know how I got back alive and unharmed. I probably was suffering from a severe case of hysteria and in reality did lead myself into danger but traumatized myself so much that I ended up with amnesia, thus causing me to forget the events taking place from when I stepped out of my house to when I finally settled back into bed. My thought now is: if only that could happen for the events of the last six months.
I know change is inevitable. I just wish that I were a lot more open to new things. When I say "open" I really mean I wish that I were a lot braver to face and adjust to new things. Is it asking to much that I simply want to stay in the state that makes me happy and comfortable? Why does change have to be so scary? Yes I understand that change can sometimes be fun. I wouldn't argue with that. New clothes, new hair, new food, new CAR??? All completely good examples of change...and also all completely obtainable with money. I guess what I'm really afraid of is those priceless, unpredictable, and life-affecting changes.
I have certain fears, one of them being change and the other, sadness. What I'm guessing is that I'm afraid of change because it might lead to sadness. However, if I don't take the leap of faith, how will I ever know? I might never reach complete satisfaction if I refuse to move on. I think it's time to take into consideration what's good for me, and what is just completely a waste of my time. I should trust in faith, the problem is, sometimes it's a bit difficult to rely on such an intangible source. I need to be strong. I need to grow a pair of balls and finally rip off that damn band aid. So my wounds will be exposed, so what? Wounds heal, but time can never be replaced. I should take as much as I can from this and move on. I should do that, but I don't want to.
What I want to do is go running into my mom's skirt, crying and begging for her to take me away from all of this. I would love to get away. Maybe once I'm away from all the chaos, I would finally be able to get my life back in order, because to be honest, I'm scared. No, I'm terrified. What if there isn't anything better out there for me? What if I've been wasting my time on nothing? What if I'm LOST??? I tried seeking help. It pains me that my mom is unable to help me these days with my problems, but I understand that everyone has their own problems to deal with (some more important than others). I did spend some quality time with a good friend over coffee (or whatever that water-based decaffeinated shit was) and, of course, cookies. However, I didn't feel comforted so much as I was the one who did the comforting, so I sought the help of two old friends both of whom I was once very close with. The problem was one of them was busy and the other was of no help whatsoever. Which made me realize how over the past six months, I have become so engulfed in my new life, that I have completely forgotten that my old friends have feelings too, and they still care about me...Well at least they did until I decided to become to busy for them.
I should try taking a step back. I now realize that I have been too self-absorbed with myself that I have forgotten the effect I have on others. Looking back over the past three days I have indeed become a little less sensible and a lot more irrational. Although the feelings I felt were legitimate, the actions I took were far from that. I should try considering the fact that I will never be able to grow if I refuse to accept change and pain. Shit happens, and I just have to deal with it. The problem is, I'm loving this chapter of my life too much and I don't want to turn the page.
After serving one full term as Student Government President, I figured it would only be fair for my senators (who did an excellent job this year) if I took my name off the ballots for the more pertinent awards. In the end, however, I still managed to be voted for one award in particular that struck me as odd:
