Reaching a Fever Pitch
It's raining. Rain isn't normally depressing. It seems so today. I hope it rains all day without end.

Thursday night, Mom and I were able to talk for a full hour. Last night, we barely got past 3 minutes, and already there was that air of disappointment, of "no, Ginny, you're never going to make it on your own, so why bother?"
In a bad sitation, there are two options: fight or flight. I'm very bad about standing up for myself, so, as usual, I retreated to my room.
A common joke between the managers and myself at work is me talking about how great I am. The truth is, I can feel my self-confidence being picked away at a little more each day. One of these days, I'm so afraid that I'll end up believing that I don't have the ability to take care of myself.

Thankfully, those thoughts finally stopped whirling around my head about 1:3o in the morning. About 3 hours later, I woke up to the sound of my parents fighting.
I don't care what anyone says about every relationship needing a fight now and again; it can't be any fun for the fighters and for those left listening in silence. And it was supposed to be their anniversary, too... I felt something disagree with my stomach at that point, and I fought to keep it down, just so they wouldn't know I was awake. I wish God had made me a heavy sleeper.

I dreamed just long enough to see Jamal, and to see that same peace and freedom and unhaughty self-proudness I feel when I'm around him. It's not the alarm's fault for waking me up to go to work. I can escape for a little bit...

Y'know, it's seriously unfair. Yesterday started out decent enough, went on fantastically, then, right as it wrapped up, turned ugly. As I laid there this morning, stuffing my pillow over my head to drown out the sounds, I realized something: this isn't my life anymore. It probably hasn't been for the past 6 months. I'm not supposed to still be living at home, working at Chili's. I'm supposed to be living somewhere else, working somewhere else, and I am angry at myself for not working harder and faster on resolving those issues.

The worst of all of it is, the longer I sit and wait, the more upset I get, and the harder it is to avoid affecting those I love around me. I seriously hope I haven't been upsetting anyone, and if I have, I'm sorry. Words of comfort are great, but this time, I know I have to fix it on my own. If I want to prove I can do it on my own, I'm going to have to prove it on my own.

Thank you to everyone who have believed in me, who have continued to believe in me. Thank you for being nonjudgemental and patient with me when I accidentally am. Thank you for letting me make my own choices, complete with a loving kick when I should know better, and a gentle hug when you understand. Just...y'know...thank you for being there.

(...I always feel better when I type away stuff like this. Matters not if people read, but it's enough for me to get it out. Bottled up inside is the most unhealthiest place for it to be, I've been told.)

~Spiritual "Craziness" ahead: read at your risk~

...please, Father, please don't tell Your Child to be patient. Please be Your will that she's been tested enough, and grant her that her spirit will be preserved as she moves forward in life. Give her just a tiny sliver of divine strength, just enough to keep her going till she can fulfill her promise of "on my own".
Don't let her forget Your love.
Amen.