The 10 of Hearts

(This Blog has been temporary removed... Sorry guys, it doesn't fit at all right now.. and i feel under pressure to write to you! Jesus!)

Lets Be Serious Now

What kind of human being can sleep at 3am? I guess all the normal ones. As my fingers freeze while I type I can’t help but wonder what a normal life is like. What is considered “normal” anyways? Waking up and going to work for 8am, then working till 5pm, to come home to your perfect significant other and well behaved daughter and son, with a home cooked dinner on the table? Is the American Dream something that we all strive for? What if it’s something I don’t want?

90 words, 20 minutes. I would be terrible at essays.

I was always told I should become a writer, and each day it is becoming clearer than before. Curled up in my jacket, listening to some Gabriella Cilmi on the 14^th floor of a cute little apartment building at 3am writing something for nothing. Something for closure, but what kind of closure am I looking for? Why do I continue to write down thoughts and feelings I have if they are only going to be posted on pages like facebook and blogspot. Wasted words. Maybe one day I will look back and read these and remember how I felt when I typed such things, or how cold my toes were.

Or maybe these journals will make their way into a book one day. I wouldn’t mind seeing an entry like this in chicken soup, I see those books everywhere. Just more wasted words, but this time in a bestselling novel that people buy as gifts for others. They never actually get read. I owned four and can’t say I read one word other than the title on the front, but we did own them... I guess that’s something.

Maybe these entries will find themselves in a writing portfolio one day. I’ll be applying for a magazine I love, and ill sneak this sucker into one of my collections to show them a little bit of who I am, or where I come from, although this journal has not really been any of those things.

Maybe this will be one of those things I never get around to saving. One of those “for my eyes only”

What kind of human being can’t get to sleep at 3am?
Wasted Words.

Its Been A While....

Since I’ve done this.
And by this, I mean a journal entry.
I’m rusty.

I’m here. I’m alive!
Hello world.

I have learned a lot about myself over the past few months that I have never ever thought about before. In less than a couple months, I have dropped down to the lowest I could have ever gone, and even when I thought it couldn't get any worse, things still seemed to still be going wrong. I gave up, and after time I eventually lost myself.

So, Brittanie, where does this all begin? Where do these thoughts and feelings come from you may ask? Well let me tell you in short (at least at this point, I want it to be short)

After a while, school started to go downhill. Not in the way you’re thinking... I still went to class, and did my work, but it was easy, and I found other things to do with my time. Just for the record, I did pass, and (might I add!) with mighty fine grades. Anyways, I felt like I had lost all the people that I had called friends, and even the ones I was so very close to before I came to college, felt like they had drifted farther and farther away.

I hated living in residence, it honestly felt like a prison, and since I know not a good percentage of people younger than me have been to prison let me go into more detail. It’s nice to go on vacation? I suppose we would all agree on this. I do travel a lot and maybe for some people "living" in a hotel like place with key cards is ideal, but for me, a place I want to call home, calls for a set of keys. Sign in your guests? "I don't think so" if I'm paying a shit load of money to stay there, I want to be able to have whoever I want over, and not have to pay $5 to have them stay the night!

*rant*

White walls, long halls, lonely nights, cable TV that I had only watched once since I got there, and internet so slow, I had to wait three days for a movie to download just so I could entertain myself. Basically to sum it up, residence was the shits and it didn't help that I had a roommate that would talk about me on msn to all her little friends. I'm sure I’ll come back and edit this one day, go into more detail, but I promised myself above that this was going to be short!

Anyways, continuing on.

After a while I started to cry every night. I had never felt so alone and afraid in my life. This is where I would like to thank TWLOHA and the Kids help line. When no one else was there for me, they were, and listening to someone I didn't even know, talk about absolutely nothing for at least a half hour actually cheered me up. I hated being by myself. I was depressed, and I didn't want to admit it.

So I started spending my time elsewhere, which I think is when I was given signs, you know the ones people think "god" give them, but since I don't really believe "god" I kind of just ignored it, and thought that things would eventually end up the way they end up (which by the way, is exactly what happened). All I did was cook and clean, and cook and then clean... and then occasionally cook, and then go to best buy every once and a while.

Then I went to San Francisco, where I came across a little something called hope and dreams. It didn't last long though, because soon enough I was back where I started and I felt like my life was a dead end. I was medically diagnosed with Situational depression, and started taking pills.

I lost control; I didn't know who I was. After a while things just got worse (but they always get worse before they get better, which is what I'm told) I ended up moving out of residence. I didn't get kicked out, like some of you may think, I just simply couldn't take it anymore, there was nothing there for me. After that, my life became routine, boring, and robotic.

Okay so right now your thinking "shit, so much for a short blog" Well I do apologize, I didn't mean for it to be THIS long, it’s just a lengthy story, and I kind of need to get it all out.

So, what pushed me over the edge? What was it that made me realize that there were so many life opportunities and so many people out there that would die to take me out to dinner?

Well, at the end of my run, my best friend, someone that was always there for me, decided they no longer wanted to be, and it had happened to me around that time of year, where people are supposed to come together, to be together. The only thing I was holding on so tightly to have slipped through my fingers, and I was left with nothing.

But surprisingly, even at the most unlikely times, life can completely turn around, and start again. A new chapter, a new year, a merry Christmas.

I ended it with my boyfriend, and I can say I don't regret any of the choices I have made, even when I was depressed or "down and out" as you might like to say. The choices I have made, and the things I have said are all done and over with, and I can start a new "chapter" in my life.

I'm not going back to school. I'm meeting a boy. I’m going on a road trip. I'm raising money for charity. I am back, and I am doing what’s most important, living my life.