fleeing.

maybe it's just a food baby. hopefully.

i started biting my fingernails again after returning home for break. i 'm not sure what this means, but i get the feeling it's significant.

i'm ready for my mouth to start feeling normal again. is this how it felt before the wisdom teeth even came in? maybe. it's hard to remember that far back.

i've given a lot of thought to running away. now that i have sadie, this thought has been made much easier to put into action. (sadie's the jeep i got for christmas). with my luck i'd forget something crucial to getting past the south carolina state line. i'm not sure i'd want to go alone, though.

i wish the dorms opened sooner than the day before classes started. i'm sure i could think of a good enough excuse to leave here a few days earlier if they did.

pathetic.

i always want what i can't have.
i know, cliche of the century. the only way to really describe how i feel, and everyone else on the planet thinks the same way.

i talked to someone a few days ago who i've wanted to talk to for the longest time. i sent the conversation to my best friend so she could help me decipher what it meant. the real reason i sent it? because i'd have an excuse to save the conversation so i could go back and re-read it whenever i wanted to.

a lot of the time i feel like amos from "chicago." the song "mr. cellophane" is my theme song most of the time. i think it's sad that some people fade from view because they want to. they blend in because they don't want to stand out or because they're too lazy to be different. people who are naturally wallflowers, though, like i am, can't understand why anyone would choose this lifestyle. those who do rock the spotlight can't understand how hard it is to break free from the wall. i also don't think they realize how lonely a spot on that wall is.

tears.

i haven't cried since i was fifteen years old. not even today, after having wisdom teeth pulled and the medicine wear off before i could take some more. i should've known that i wouldn't cry today, anyway. i've already found out the hard way that physical pain doesn't make me cry any more than emotional pain. the reason the last time i cried was my grandfather dying. he was my mother's dad. that side of our family is so small, and very tight-knit. all my life, whenever we got together, it's always been the ten of us: my grandparents, my uncle's family (of four) and our family (of four). so to drop from ten to nine so suddenly was one of the saddest things in my life.

holidays are especially hard. there's always an empty spot at the table. we've tried to fill it with guests over the years, but it's not the same. pop pop's big green chair, it's not empty, but someone else is sitting in it. it's hard not to expect him to walk in and make them sit somewhere else. at christmastime, he's no longer the one to go get the wheelbarrow to throw all the trash that accumulated on the floor during present time to take it out to the trash can outside. no longer do we hear "wham, bam, thank ya ma'am" whenever one of his four granddaughters does something for him.

two days ago, we got together with our extended family and my mom's cousin's granddaughter calls her granddad "pop pop," just like we called ours. while we were eating, her grandmother said something like "pop pop's always here for you." my sister and cousins and i just sort of got quiet. i know we all wanted to tell her to cherish the time she has with her pop pop, for one day he won't be around any more, just like ours isn't.

suicidal.

i think my mother knows i've contemplated suicide.

i suppose i have two reasons for explanation here, so i'll hurry before the lortab wears off and i've come to my senses and remember there are some things i'm not supposed to share.

explanation one: we were riding in the car earlier today and somehow the subject came up. she was being careful about her sentences, but i could tell she wanted to add "and kathryne if you had..." to a few of those. she didn't because we've never talked about something that serious in my family. that's just something we don't do.

you see, my family's all about what looks good on the surface. i've never been allowed to have a breakdown in public, no matter what the situation, because when i start to everyone in that restaurant, store, house, etc, everyone "starts looking at us." it doesn't matter if we're in colorado and will never see those people again. so, yeah, i've been disciplined for getting loudly upset in public because it looks bad. but, hey, if we look nice and normal for all the strangers around us, what does it matter if one of us is dying on the inside?

she's also monitoring my lortab intake very carefully. no more than one, and no less than four hours in between. as if I'd attempt the overdose thing...it can so easily be interpreted as an accident.

explanation two: why have i contemplated suicide? have you ever felt unwanted? not needed? unloved? i bet the feeling usually passes, doesn't it? i have felt this way since the beginning of my sixth grade year, so we're going on about eight years now. eight years of feeling totally isolated in the world. i figured i've held on this long because of hope. my hope that this feeling will pass started out as a rope that i was climbing, trying to reach the top. it began as a rather thick rope, one made of steel and it had knots in it every two feet or so. it was very easy to climb. now, the rope has dwindled into more or less a piece of yarn, no knots, and cut off underneath the hand that is highest up. now, i'm hanging from this string of hope and praying that it doesn't break before i reach the top.

silence.

i don't know what happened. all of a sudden, i feel nothing. it's kind of liberating in a way, but it scares me at the same time. i don't know what i want anymore, and nothing makes sense at all. it's like i'm floating in a calm sea, surrounded by nothing but water, and off in the distance i see a small island. nothing is compelling me to swim forward toward that island anymore, but nothing's holding me back from doing that either. there are no storms, no sharks, and i don't grow tired of just treading water. but that's not where i want to be. as terrible as fear can be, it can also be a great motivator. i want that drive and that passion, that need to make it to my small island paradise. i don't know where to turn...it's very lonesome in my calm sea.