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Angel Without Wings
i'm not here - this isn't happening

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Open your eyes | 07.15.02 9:14 pm

So I went to Acadia National Park with my betrothed during the week of Independence Day. We had a great time and really bonded. I didn't know that we could do such a thing. But we really grew together. Sleeping in a cramped, hot tent for a week will do that to you.

The vacation did little to pull me out of depression, though. I'm a bit more focused on my life, but there are still few answers to my questions.

Last week I finished working at Staples. While I learned so much and had, overall, a positive experience, I'm glad to be done with it.

Saturday, R and I went rock climbing. I climbed my personal best. R said I looked really strong. I climbed most of the way up a 5.8 but was just too exhausted to finish. At least I quit because I was tired and not because I started to panic because I was tired. That's just embarrassing. I got so few bruises, it's amazing. The only real damage was a bruise on my right shoulder. While R was lowering, I lost my balance on the rock and swang into a chimney, nailing my shoulder on a rock. I don't know why I lost my balance. Nor do I know why I didn't put my arms out to stop me from hitting my back against the rock. Maybe I was thinking I didn't want to get any more scrapes on my arms?

Saturday night, we went to dinner with Lissy and her gf. Good times. :)

Sunday, we went to the beach with Shawna, T, Nick and Nick's bf Kenny. Shawna, T, and I got sunburns. I'm so proud of mine. The only thing that really hurts right now is my back. Otherwise, I love being dark!!!! I'm learning that I am quite masochistic.

R suggested I get a tattoo over my home-made tattoo. It says "FUCKING LOSER" right now. Nice. (Zoloft + Alcohol = Cutting) I want to try some of that scar stuff. But then, as a last resort, I will get a tattoo. I can't have that looking at me every day. Maybe tattoo a bandaid over it? hehheh

Today was my first full day of waitressing. I made more than my fair share of mistakes. But everyone was understanding. (I think.) And I still made good tips. Probably thanks to Shawna being a wonderwoman. We share tips. I would have made nothing if it wasn't for her. I realize that. R figured out that I made approximately $14/hour. Fucking amazing.

I'm so lost. I want to go back to school. But I don't. I want to start my own business. But I don't. I'm scared to death of living, but I'm scared of death. I had another breakdown on the way to the beach. I just put my head down and started silently weeping. I just want to do myself in. I'm disoriented and frightened. It's fucking annoying. R calls it "a rough patch." My entire life is one big rough patch. More like a weedy lot. Nice location and everything, but the soil is no good.

What keeps me going?

Knowing how hurt my family would be if I killed myself.

Hoping it will get better.

Getting excited about one of my hobbies.

People telling me what an ambitious person I am.

My love.

My cat.

My friends.

Knowing that the solution to all my problems is going to arise a moment after I do myself in.

Not know what comes after death.

Knowing I have to pay the bills.

Wanting to have a child.