Here's something I'm learning to like about myself- the fact that I can cry and scream and almost give up, but I haven't actually given up yet.

This semester I have been offered so many easy ways out. I've been told to sign up with OSS, spend my time being pampered at a mental institute, take the semester off, take classes from home, etc... Maybe it wasn't the smartest route, but I'm roughing it out.
I would absolutely not say that I am doing so in flying colors- my clothes are dirty, my room is a mess, I whine about every class I have to attend, I project my frustrations on my family and friends....BUT. I am doing it.


My birthday is tomorrow. I'm turning 22 and I feel miserable about it because 22 is old and I don't want my actual age to start matching how my insides sometimes feel (60, 70, tired...). At the same time, my heartheart feels like it's maybe 15 at times. Except not mean 15. Just more youthful than 22 will allow.

So anyway, I was resisting the idea of celebrating my birthday pretty hard at first, but it must be said that I am GLAD TO HAVE MADE IT TO 22 ALIVE. A few scrapes and cuts extra, yes, but I'm not dead!
Weird that exactly two months ago I was crying in a car with my ex-lover wondering if I would make it this far. Weird looking at diary entries stating that if my emotions got to exactly where they are now I would fucking walk away from this existence.

I guess the instinct for survival has a greater pull than just giving up, which is cruel considering my body is just going to stop working one day.

The addition of Josh (my BELOVED) into my life has sincerely been 75% of the reason that I am still around. I really do think that. If he had been absent for like one minor issue that seemed like a huge hurdle, I would have dropped the ball. But he wasn't and I didn't and that's what a partnership is.



endpost.