Are We There Yet?

I am so ready to be done.

Done.

Done with school. Done with the work. Done with the pain. Done with the tears.

Done.

I need a break, from it all. I need a moment to breathe. I need to remember how to write, and read, and function without the backdrop of school.

I just need a minute to remember who I am.

And I don't know how to sufficiently explain how school robs me of that.

I am ready for summer. I am ready to feel alive again. I am ready to feel like I am doing something with my life again.

I am done.

So done.

Ignorance Is Not Always Bliss

In August I will have had a headache for two years.

I wish that was a gross exaggeration. I wish.

I wish this was fixed as quickly as it started. I wish there was some sort of medical professional that at least attempted to understand. I wish it wasn't so damn debilitating.

I wish I kept my promise that this would not dictate my life.

I have tried, honest, I have. But it is hard. It is so hard. And so tiring. And all I ever want to do is sit down and cry. But I can't, because I have school, and work, and people all around me that just don't quite get it.

(And I would never fault them for that. Never.)

I just wish I knew what the hell was going on. I mean, really, what is this?

Because that joke, the one that comes right after, "I have had this headache for four days straight." The one about tumors, or cancer? It is not funny. It has never been funny. But after this long it is starting to become scary.

I get it, the likelihood of that is really low. After all, I'd probably have loads more symptoms and yada yada. I understand that. (And in no way do mean to demean the severity and relevance of cancer or tumors or other scary and potentially terminal diseases.) Still, it is scary.

I don't know when I will get an answer. I don't even know if I will ever get an answer.

I don't know.

I don't know what that means for me. This year has been nearly unbearable, because of these headaches. How will I do this for three more years? How will I function when it only gets harder and harder?

How will I learn to live my life like this?

I just do not know anymore. And I am so sick, and so very tired of that.

Winding Down

Here we are. The end.

Sort of.

It is nearly the end. It is April, which means it is coming to the end of second semester. Which means it is the end of the first year.

There, I did it.

Sort of.

I mean, I am here. I have made it this far. At some costs, yes. But still, I made it to the end.

I didn't quit. I didn't give up. (Alright, sometimes I did. But never entirely.)

I wanted to, believe me, I wanted to. I still do. Nearly everyday.

I haven't yet though. Which must be good for something, right?

In four months I will be coming back. I won't be going to a new school. I won't be staying home. I will be coming back to this place, and that is not scary any more. It is still a little disappointing.

Now though, there is something here for me. There are people here for me. It is not that I gave up my 'life,' I just gained a second one. I don't love this second one all the time, or most of the time.

Who knows what next year will bring, maybe I will only become more and more... satisfied with where I am. Maybe I won't. For now, I don't think it matters.

For now, I close off the year with not a fizzle but a bang. I'll do what I do, and I'll do it the best I can. I make no promise about the turnout, only that I am going to try.