Solemn

As tired as I am, I'm determined to write tonight. I brought Sprite in, much to her dismay, as she hisses at even being brought into the house where the two vile little creatures live, Pearl and Presley. She now looks indignantly at me from the furthest most corner of my bed. Hayden came in with us, but I won't allow her in my room because she pees and the other night she vomited on my comforter while I slept. She can't help the peeing really because she's incontinent from a disorder called Pulled Tail Syndrome. It's just as it sounds. Before she came into my care, her tail was either pulled very hard by something or someone, or her tail got caught in something and she injured herself when trying to free herself. All of the nerves in her hind quarters were torn and she has no feeling back there. Poor thing. I thought about giving her up because it was becoming too hard to keep up with her, but couldn't bring myself to do it and now she spends most of her time outside. Somehow she is able to use the litter box, but not all of the time. Maybe the nerves are growing back together? She scratches at my bedroom door, whining to be let in.

I wasn't as productive as I should've been today, as seems to be what I usually say, but I'm proud of what I accomplished. I finally finished an essay, after hurdling some obstacles, for my philosophy class and emailed it to my teacher. I think I did well on it, but I don't know yet what he thinks. I emailed part of it to another professor, the Doctor, who claimed he couldn't be of any assistance and that he is an idiot. That seemed quite out of character for him. I hope to arrive early on Monday so I can prod him more for his strange response. I studied more psychology. It is so agonizingly slow. If I want to become a psychologist, I have many more psych textbooks to read, so I best get used to it. I talked to a friend of mine about my theory paper for women's studies. I know that he articulated some ingenious remarks and possibly a thesis, but I was too slow to type everything and didn't want to ask him to repeat himself. I half-hoped we would meet tonight to discuss my paper further since I'm really at a loss on it, but he seemed busy at home and didn't seem up to going out. I told him that I'm going to dinner at a friend's house in Everett (he lives near Everett), hoping that he would invite me over or to meet someplace up there, but he didn't pick up on the hint. You have to be more straightforward with men. I have much studying to do as it is, but I could also use a sounding board for my theory and it's much easier in person than over the phone. But, in person I feel more shy and my mind seems to go blank, so maybe over the phone is better.

I've given one of my teachers a lot of thought over the past couple weeks. She was very friendly and talkative at first, always replying to my emails, asking how I'm doing, reply when I ask her the same, and I hoped that it would blossom into a friendship. Now she rarely responds to my emails and we don't talk much anymore. I felt that we could really relate to one another, as her mother and my grandmother are in much the same condition and she has similar family problems to mine. I'm not sure if it had anything to do with something I said, or perhaps she felt that it was too close for a strictly teacher/student relationship. Or maybe she's much more wrapped up in her mother's affairs. She's someone I would like to be friends with, but I already knew I was probably hoping for too much.

Carmen finally started acting normal this afternoon. She receives her anti-depressants by mail and forgot to send in the paperwork so she's been off for two weeks. She's mostly acted like a whack job crying all the time, yelling and throwing tantrums, suffering from constant panic attacks, becoming hysterical at trivial matters...she started crying when telling me that an old friend of ours she ran into was praying for me. I told her she needs her medication. And she said that being so emotional had nothing to do with it! I know I become much more emotional and irritable when I don't take my anti-depressants. I hate that fact, but at least I don't deny it. Dad told me that she actually burst into tears when she saw Bev in the grocery store! Lovely. It was a long and tiring week.

I still think about the Queen often. Sometimes with anger, sometimes with resentment, sometimes with apathy, and even sometimes with care. I told Diego that if we did make up and at least were friends again, without benefits, that I couldn't stay at their house without being able to sleep in their bed. It just hurts too much. I lie awake for hours straining to hear the tiniest noise from their room. I would get up at all hours of the night to creep towards their room to make sure they weren't having sex. I probably sound like a deranged person. But, if you knew where I was coming from, you'd probably understand. I thought he would be mad at me because I know how much he wants us to at least be friends again; be talking again, but he wasn't at all and said he could completely understand how I felt. That made me happy and love him all the more. I miss him. Very few times I thought that maybe I should just let go and have nothing more to do with either one of them. That it would hurt at first but over time it would be better for all of us. But I can't bring myself to do it, and so far he hasn't been able to either. Queenie has said good-bye before, but we made up until now. I wonder if she has a hard time too. I don't think so. She writes in her facebook how happy she is and grateful she is for her husband and their marriage and she's just filled with so much gratitude. It makes me want to puke. Normally, she would puke at that kind of thing too. I miss her hugs and kisses, and her perfume when she would wrap her arms around me and hold me close. But she has Diego to hold close to her.

Now I'll finish my wine and try to fall asleep listening to the rain beat on the roof.

Tranquility

Staying in a cabin for a month or so on Lake Quinault with my books, my knitting, lots of wine, paper to write on, and maybe a kitty sounds blissful. Sit on the porch in a rocking chair gazing out at the lake thinking of nothing, for the whole day if I want. Eat dinner at the lodge. Take long succulent baths with lots of candles. Just be silent, and still. Walk in the woods when it's raining, feeling the security of the trees around me, breathing Mother Nature in. Skinny dip under a midnight moon. Read St. Thomas Aquinas and Immanuel Kant, Freud and Poe, Slyvia Plath and Jane Austen. Sit in front of a fire, a real fire, knitting a baby blanket with a kitty in my lap. Wonder through the cemetary thinking up stories for those who lived long ago, trying to find the oldest gravestone. No cell phone, no internet, no cable. But I don't have a month to go away. I can't swim by myself because of the seizures. The baby blanket I'd be knitting for someone else's baby. I don't have a car to get there, and no money to pay for it all. Just a pleasant daydream.

"I hope the leaving is joyful; and I hope never to return." ~Frida Kahlo

Well, that was strange

Friday I went to bed around 10 or 11, and woke up Saturday evening at 5:30. I thought it was either still Friday night or Saturday morning. Imagine my surprise. My shoulder, the one I dislocated, was killing me for hours. I only woke up for a few minutes at a time to carefully change position. Luckily, I didn't dislocate it again. I was very disoriented when I woke up, and it was much more difficult than it should be to even sit up. I asked my mom if I'd been up that day and she said no. I think it must've been a grand mal seizure. I was up for about five hours and then went back to bed at about 10:45 and slept for another 8-9 hours. I've been very tired today; very out of it. I tried reading Descartes this morning, but that didn't go too well. I would read a paragraph and my mind would be off someplace else. I took about a four hour nap this afternoon. This is not how I wanted to spend my weekend. I think it was Thursday I was trying to concentrate on my homework, and my mother kept interrupting me for one thing or another, and I finally said, "Mom! I'm trying to concentrate on homework!" She replied, "I know honey, and I admire you for it." Does she want me to fail?? I really want to finish the quarter, but I'm getting very behind in my women's studies class, and pretty far behind in my psych class, that I wonder if I should drop one....I don't want to, and I think I can do it, as long as the rest of the quarter goes smoothly and there are no emergencies or seizures or illnesses. Odds seem unlikely. I don't know what I'm going to do.

I talked to a friend Friday night I haven't spoken to for a few months. She has a beautiful 9 month old daughter, and she's expecting in May. Wow! They will be 15 months apart. She takes after her mother - her two younger sisters are 11 months apart. I'm happy for her, but it also makes me think of my own life and lack of children, and how almost all the women I know near my age have kids or are pregnant. Even my doctor is due in less than a month. I was going to make her a baby blanket, but I don't think that's going to happen any time soon. Maybe my dream the other night was a sort of psychic dream.

Have you ever noticed in fairy tales that the villain is almost always a woman and the hero is almost always a man? What's up with that? Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, The Sword In The Stone....and then there's the damsel in distress, except the last one. The villians in The Wizard Of Oz and Alice In Wonderland are also women, but at least the heroes are heroines.

"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." ~Douglas Adams

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

I just had the most wonderful and disheartening dream. I gave birth to a baby girl. My dad took me to this hospital where we waited in the waiting room because I knew it was close, but not quite time yet. I saw myself full and very pregnant. Sophia Loren was also there waiting for someone who was in a room. I actually made friends with her, and she taught me some Italian! I remember telling my dad that Obama had an office there, and they just remodeled it to also accomodate his family, such as adding a dining room and den so Malia and Sasha can watch tv and play games. Interestingly, it was just off the women's restroom. I never saw a prettier dining room. I remember that Gramma and her sister, Frances, were there. They were outside though, standing on the balcony in the rain. I went out to see them and I could see Gramma was crying. I went over to her to try to find out why, but the dream moved on. Freud might think that it symoblizes that they probably won't be here if I do have a baby. After that heart-dropping thought, it's finally time. A bunch of us gather in the room, including Loren, for me to give birth. I wasn't even having contractions. Dreams are great. The nurse took did an ultrasound, and showed me my baby. I found out it's a girl. Then after not much trying, she lays the baby on the bed. I cradled her head in my hand. I remember giving the name "Lora." I think there was more to that, but again, the dream moved on before that "scene" was over. I looked down at her in awe, filled with so much joy that I'm going to cry. But the tears don't come. I realize that it's all a dream. I'm in this limbo where I realize it's a dream, but I don't want to let go. I can still feel the weight and warmth of her head in my hand. I finally wake up from my dream feeling empty, very empty. I fight the urge to curl up on the recliner and watch "comfort" tv (like Golden Girls) to take my mind off of it and convince myself to go for a walk on this sunny morning. Hopefully it will fill the emptiness that fills me up.

Self-Inhibition

What leads to one inhibiting oneself from doing what she or he wants? The list seems too long to note all of them. Societal standards or acceptance, law, peer acceptance, religious acceptance seem to be major ones. But for the most part, those don't really apply to me. I don't mean to sound self-righteous. I learned that to fear what others think of yourself can push you down way too much. You have no mind of your own. For years I've talked about all these things I want to do - not so much what I want to accomplish, but daily tasks, such as exercising, reading, creating some variance of art, cooking, writing, gardening, as well as my education. I had dinner with a friend tonight who seems to be gifted, from my point-of-view (pov), to learning. He did so from before my age to where he is now, a practicing psychologist who is reading Proust in French (this is how he is learning French), decided to pick up someone else whose name escapes me at the moment, is reading another book he brought with him, dedicates himself to exercising and strengthening his body, is rewriting one book and writing another. I haven't covered everything, but that's a good glance at it. I want to learn a lot, but I don't feel I'm active enough in learning. Today was another disappointment in myself. I planned on spending half the day doing homework and half the day on my room, my space. I accomplished neither. I finished a one page paper I started last night and read a little bit more for my philosophy class. As far as my "sanctuary" goes, that was left in the cold. I also planned on seeing my grandmother, which I WILL do tomorrow. Maybe my self-inhibition comes from laziness and fatigue. Looking for excuses to procrastinate. Why? When I don't accomplish what I need to accomplish, then I can't do anything else, like finish the damn baby blanket for Paige. For years I've known where I want to be, but make no or very little progress in getting there. Not physically where I want to be, although that's not here either. I've analyzed my behavior and habits, and made numerous small and large goals for myself. Some I achieve, but there's a lot I don't. I'm not driven. That's the main thing. I know what I want to do, I am working on getting there, but I'm not driven to take the necessary steps to get there. WHY???? Maybe I'm somewhat driven. I'm motivated to finish this quarter. But I'm not putting in the effort necessary to accomplish that. Tomorrow I'll get up, hopefully go for a walk before my doctor's appointment at 11, see Gramma afterwards, hopefully get some homework done, go to psych, hopefully do some homework after that, but there's a very good chance I'll just go to bed. I've never been good at doing homework. I get distracted too easily counting flowers on the wall.

"In the contemplation of Beauty, we alone find it possible to attain that pleasurable, or excitement, of the soul, which we recognise as the Poetic Sentiment, and which is so easily distinguished from Truth, which is the satisfaction of the Reason, or from Passion, which is the excitement of the heart." Edgar Allan Poe

Another Brick In The Wall

I've given more thought to what I think should be taught in school. It's not trig and Greek history (unless one wants to take them of course). They don't really apply to the "real world." Of course, things may have changed a lot since I was in high school. Someone wrote that he or she thinks that self-defense should be taught in high school. That seems so obvious! I think it should be taught even in elementary school. If a kid knows what to do if s/he is abducted or someone tries to abduct them, it can save their life. Nutrition and exercise are a must. Not just the same old PE, but the importance of getting into a healthy lifestyle now that will keep you fit, and hopefully girls will learn they can be thin without going for days without eating (like I did in high school) or vomiting all they eat. Financial responsibility is also key. Learn how to save, keep your checking account balanced, and not let credit card debt get out of control. It can save them so much headache in the future. Part of being financially responsible is to be organized, which is something I've tried to achieve for years. Someone once said that successful people are organized people. I think it was MSN. I think another great help is learning how to create a resume. For anyone who has applied for a job knows it's an invaluable skill. A cooking class would be great. Teach kids the basics of cooking, like how to boil an egg. Something more than taking a box out of the freezer and putting it in the microwave. I also think that all kids should take a shop class. At one point or another, 99.9% of them will have a car. They should know how to take care of it, and be able to diagnose basic problems. I also think kids should have to take a social studies class throughout high school that includes assignments where they have to read articles from the paper. I didn't care about what was going on in the world until I was in my twenties, or even in my own town for that matter. I think it's important for people to actively learn about their world. After I started watching the news, I found it fascinating and made me a more conscientious and caring person. I'm sure it also comes with age. These are things that will actually help kids after high school! Maybe we can create more responsible, caring citizens! This will also be in my Neverland.

How do we get to Never Land?

For a long time I felt that people should have to take an aptitude test before becoming parents, but how to keep them from procreating in the mean time eluded me. I finally decided that at birth, all babies should undergo a procedure that can be reversed to inhibit them from procreating until they undergo such an aptitude test. Then, hopefully, only mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially stable and responsible, loving adults would bear children. Kind of like what people go through when they want to adopt. Maybe I'll call this place Neverland. I know someone already thought that one up, but I can't think up everything.

I volunteered for the first time for Volunteer Chore Services for my volunteer requirement for school. What is up with that anyway? I believe volunteering is a great service for oneself and the community, and teaches humility and compassion, but to require it of college students? To study as thoroughly as I need to, to retain at least a good part of what I read, and to spend as much time as I need to on writing assignments to produce my best work, I would need to spend at least 20 hours a week on homework, maybe more. I would like to read everything twice, but I just don't have that kind of time, despite that I don't have a job. And the students who do go to school full time and work? I did that once, but with my seizure disorder I don't know if I could do that again, not that I want to. As it is, I would like to take 4 classes a quarter, volunteer for gay rights, the elderly, planned parenthood or someplace similar to it, and someplace for animals, become more active such as exercising regularly and maybe take a yoga class, read books outside of school, spend time on a hobby, such as knitting, and still have a social life. Again, if I had the money, I would love to visit more museums and see all types of performing arts. Diego has 11 or 12 houses he needs to sell, but because he's so busy with his other companies, he doesn't actively market them. So, I was thinking of doing it for him, like posting them on craigslist and msn. If a house sells from my posting, then I would receive a fee of $500 or so. If I commute by bus everyday, then that adds on at least another 8 hours a week, and then the hours I actually spend in class....and they want to require us to volunteer? I have a hard enough time as it is right now just keeping up with school without all the other things I want to do. I thought we attended a university, not a high school. I also have my own ideas about what should be taught in high school, but I'll save that for another day. Maybe all universities are like that. Enough complaining.

So, we went to this lady's apartment, and it was...nothing like I've seen before. It was in dire condition. She lives in Section 8 housing, and the manager told her if she didn't get her apartment up to code that she will be evicted and will face permanent homelessness. She definitely had hoarder tendencies, but not like people on the show "Hoarders." Those are probably only extreme cases. I helped clean the kitchen. I have two things to say about that - old sour cream in the sink and chicken bones stuck to the counter. That is definitely not what I signed up for (and a selfish part of me thinks we should get double hours for that), but I felt good about myself that I helped a stranger who really needed it. To blow my own horn, I bet not many people are willing to spend their Saturday afternoons like that. If I knew how disgusting it was going to be, I'd do it again.

In my last entry, I wrote about the feeling of something always bearing down on me; making it impossible, or seem impossible, to move forward with life and do things that I want to do instead of taking care of "emergencies" that are part of life. As I read my psych book earlier, I came across this passage that gives little hope for a bright and happy future. I almost found it funny if it wasn't so sad. I actually have experienced all of these already.

"In later life, challenges arise: Income shrinks, work is often taken away, the body deteriorates, recall fades, energy wanes, family members and friends die or move away, and the great enemy, death, looms ever closer."

Really?

Monday I was so tired I could barely move. I got up, got ready, had bag in hand, and to my surprise these silent tears slipped down my cheeks. I hurried to my bedroom to regain composure, but they just kept coming faster and faster, more and more. I heard my voice ring in my head, "I CAN'T DO THIS!" I let that thought linger for a few moments. The happy Amanda said, "Buck up. Don't be a wimp." but her voice was small and forced. I felt so exhausted I couldn't think, except that I really needed to go to class. I still didn't feel ready for my exam. I think I'll do fine on it, but now it's become a foreboding entity that looms in my future. My imagination aggrandized it into something bigger than it is. The same could be said for the psychology exam, although now I feel much better about that. My dad offered me a ride to school and was waiting for me in the car. When the tears finally slowed, I went out to my mom and told her I didn't think I could go to school. Seeing the tears, she agreed. I called a friend to unload some of my grief and he told me to skip class. I felt more vindicated in my feelings. If someone tells me it's ok to do what I really want to do but I don't think I should, then it makes it ok in my mind. I immediately went back to bed. Carmen offered me her massage appointment, which I was very grateful for because my back and shoulder have been killing me this past week and a half. It felt blissful. My gramma's therapist is in the same building and her appointment was at the same time as mine. When I came out to the lobby she was sitting there, slouched in her wheel chair. Her hair sat flat and uncombed, she was shaking. She obviously fell drastically downhill since the last time I saw her. I felt awkward being with her. I didn't want to hug her because I still coughed a bit. Eventually my mom joined us. My gramma started talking about her shoes.

"I hate these shoes. That's why I never wear them." She wears those shoes every day and has for months.

"Mom, you've worn them everyday. You said you really liked those shoes. That's why I didn't return them." replies Carmen.

"I have not. I don't like them."

"Yes you have."

By this time my dad's joined us in the lobby waiting for the van to return Gramma to Richmond Beach Rehab.

"Ron, have I worn these shoes?"

"Yeah. You've wear them everyday."

"I do not. I have them because some people think I should."

"Ok Mom."

Mom goes to her therapy appointment (also in the same building) and Gramma's ride comes, so dad and I go home. I go back to bed for a while, too tired to even sit in front of the tv, before we pick up my mother and go out to eat. I tell them I want to go to El Puerto's. I only had one drink. It was a large margarita, but only one. After I ordered it I remember my friend's advice to stay away from alcohol for a while. Too late. I promise not to drink at my funeral (said by the great Frida Kahlo). When we're almost done, I see my ex-fiance, Joe, come in with his girlfriend. I quickly turn the other way and warn my parents. This may sound juvenile, but I didn't want to see Joe until I've slimmed BACK down to a size 6, with long, flowing hair, and just plain hot to say to him, "If you were better to me, this is what you could be married to" instead of an overweight, frumpy girl with braces, no make-up, and trying to grow out her hair that's at that awkward stage, and living with her parents. They left, which a sigh of relief escaped my lips, and then he came back a few minutes later. Apparently they ordered take-out. If he saw us, he didn't say anything, which I was thankful for. I went to bed about 7:30 and slept the night through. I couldn't believe how exhausted I was.

Diego left me a message Monday that he and Queenie have pretty much made up and they're good. I think he let her off way too easy. I admitted what we did was wrong, but I think going through someone else's email is worse, even if it's your husband's. He said she was sorry and felt bad. I think it's a load of crap. I know he feels guilty too. Somehow I don't. Maybe because I know she'll forgive him, even though he's her husband and was cheating on her, if you call emails cheating, but she'll blame most of it on me. It makes it easier to forgive him. I'm pissed she got away so easily with it. I also call her "the queen" because she always dictated our relationship. It didn't matter what we wanted. If we wanted something different from her, then she would end it, and we certainly didn't want that so we always played her way. I think about if she does forgive me, what I'll do. She invaded my privacy as much as his. She also treated me like crap. She said she wants us to basically be friends with benefits, but she treats her friends better than she treated me. I don't know if I can do it again. If she decides she wants to be friends, she'll most likely make me sleep in the guest room - she'll want nothing more than friendship. It rips at my heart everytime I slept at their house and I had to sleep in the guest room because she doesn't want to have a romantic relationship with me; just friends. Diego talked to her about just sleeping together in the same bed without sex, but she just got pissed. There were nights I would lay in bed with tears rolling down the sides of my face thinking about them in the next room holding each other. The thought of them having sex would practically send me into a panic attack. One morning after I had been up for a few hours, I could hear them in their bedroom. I was white with rage and a broken heart. Diego promised me he wouldn't fuck her while I was there. It just hurt too much. If I told her how I felt, she would've just gotten mad at me - it's her house and her husband and she'll do what she wants. I'm only a guest.

I get up early to go to my physical therapy appointment the next morning, yesterday. As I get ready, I feel the tears coming again. I let out a couple sobs in the shower, not knowing why. On my way to Everett I feel dizzy and at one point thought I was having an anxiety attack. Everything seemed surreal. After my soft tissue massage (2 massages in 2 days! woohoo!) I stand up from the table and feel very dizzy, like I just got off a tire swing where I spun really fast when I was a kid. I stand there for a couple minutes looking at the room move. As I drove home, I still felt dizzy (except things have stopped moving), so I decide to go to my doctor's. She doesn't have anything available so I go to the walk-in clinic. I give the receptionist my DSHS coupon, and she points out to me that it shows Community Health under HMO; not what I had before. They absolutely cannot see me until this is changed. Stressed and frustrated, I sit at a booth with someone in their billing department near the check-in counter. I told the receptionist that I came in for dizziness and fatige, and I've had a sore throat and a cough, though it improved, for 10 days. She calls a nurse to come out and see me for the dizziness who looks at my eyes and takes my pulse. I sit there with the billing clerk while she's on hold with DSHS.

Then I became extremely dizzy and light-headed. I think I'm going to pass out. I try to tell her, but my mouth refused to work. I slam my hands on the desk to get her attention. I feel a seizure coming on. I'm able to move to the floor, and my body starts convulsing. She gets a nurse who lays me down. After it stopped I look up and see about 10 people around me. When I'm able to talk I tell them that Rachel Hollister is my doctor. I want to see her, but she's with patients, and there's not anything she can do for me that they can't. I want to see her for emotional support. She's been my doctor for 10 years. Hot tears roll down my face. They help me into a wheel chair and roll me into an exam room where they helped me on the table and take my vital signs. Everything looks normal. They call my parents who had to walk from the house, but luckily it's not even a half mile away. After I give them blood and urine samples to ensure that nothing else is going on, and the doctor gives me a release for school, I'm able to go home. I watch some tv, despite my head pounding.

When I feel a little better, I call Dr. Mower to inform her what happened and I won't be in class that starts in half an hour and email my other teachers. I call DSHS to try to switch back to my old plan. Community Health has taken over that part of their medical plan and there's no way around it, but my doctor is able to sign up with them. I call the doctor's office and the receptionist leaves a message for the billing department to see if this is possible. I received a call this morning that it's not and I'll have to go someplace else. Luckily, yesterday I remembered that I never cancelled my insurance through SU, so I hope that the clinic accepts that. Yesterday afternoon I receive an email from Kathleen La Voy, an assistant dean at SU. She writes that my teachers are worried about me missing so much class and whether I'll be able to finish the quarter. I'm pissed. Why didn't they just come to me? I asked them to please help me with this. I didn't consent to them giving my information to someone I don't know at all for her to email me with my information and tell me that my teachers are worried about me finishing the quarter and I infer they think I should drop their classes even though I made it clear that I want to finish the quarter. All they had to do was tell me they think I should talk to her, and I would've been more than obliging. Now I think I overreacted, but I was totally exhausted and stressed as it was, so emotions got the best of me. I'm certain that Dr. Mower didn't contact her because she was actually still in class when La Voy emailed me and she said she would be more than willing to work with me to get through her class. I didn't think my psych teacher did because he already emailed me that when I return to school he will talk with me about the next steps to take. My philosophy teacher hadn't contacted me yet about my seizure. I ask Dr. La Voy where she got my information and said that teachers contact her when they're worried about a student and basically she wasn't going to tell me. I email Dr. Hudgins, the dean of students, that I already knew and liked, telling her my circumstances and that I was offended at the teacher's behavior that he didn't approach me first and involved someone outside without telling me so. All in all, I basically turned a mole hill into a mountain. I emailed my psych teacher if he shared my information with anyone. He told me that he in fact emailed La Voy because he was concerned about me. I let him know that I really didn't appreciate him not coming to me first and I would've talked with her if he just asked me to. Then I emailed Hudgins and told her that I accused the wrong teacher. It sucks to admit when you were wrong. I still haven't heard from my philosophy teacher though.

I hoped that I would make it to class today, but this morning I'm still totally exhausted, recovering from the seizure. I only get up to walk a few steps to the computer, but otherwise slept until 2:40. I get an email from my philosophy teacher that he sent to everyone regarding his policy on absences and late work. "If you have been absent lately, this doesn't apply to you personally." How can I not take it personally?? I start crying again, afraid that he will either severely lower my grade for my absences and late work because I had the flu and then a seizure. Medical conditions out of my control. I emailed him that I'm still recovering from the seizure and that I hope we can work together for me to finish the quarter. I still have yet to get a response. As I cried, I think about making it all go away - to go to sleep and never wake up. Everything in my life seems to go south. When I try to make it better, obstacles present themselves that either hinder my efforts or make it nearly impossible to move forward. Someone told me that it gets better. I hope she's right.

"But you also, judges of the court, must have good hopes towards death, and this one thing you must take as true-no evil can happen to a good man either living or dead, and his business is not neglected by the gods; nor has my business now come about of itself, but it is plain to me that to die now and to be free from trouble was better for me." Socrates speaking about his death sentence in Plato's Apology