5/13/00 (cont'd)
becoming more pronounced, and I just don't have that "youthful glow" I once did. I am totally dreading 30. I never really figured I would live to see 30, so I guess I never really did much preparing for it. Seriously! I always figured I'd die of a drug overdose or kill myself or meet some other tragic end. Hey, I'm a drama queen with a history of depression and trauma, what more could you expect?
I did make one life-impacting decision today. I am going to look into veterinary school. DVMs make a decent living, and I think I could live with myself a lot easier in that arena than I could if I were a litigator. I don't think UMKC has a vet medicine program, though, so I will have to do some investigating. I am excited at this new prospect. God, I am still just ENTHRALLED at the idea of being an active participant in my own life for once. I wish I could explain this feeling to people who aren't familiar with it, but it just defies description. Words can't give it justice. And yet, as liberating and exciting as it is, it's still horribly frightening...making one's own decisions again...freakish...
I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
Some changes are definitely in order here. But what?
The changes have to come from within. That much, I know for certain. I have to start reconsidering the way I think of things. Most importantly, I need to learn to pick my battles. I get so damn mad at the stupidest things...like last night, George got out and was just running around in the front yard acting like an idiot and he wouldn't even come to me. And I took it totally personally--like "how dare you do this to me, dog, when I have loved you and taken the best care of you and spoiled you and tried so hard to reach you." Yeah, like the dog was really trying to upset me. The dog was abused in the most horrific ways, and he knows only the simplest concepts--fear, pain, and love. He was afraid because he was out of the yard and that means mom gets really pissed and the last time he got out of the yard mom did the stupidest fucking thing in the world and smacked him. Anyway, I know he had his reasons but it just made me so unbelievably pissed--which makes me think, fuck, this is just exactly how my mother used to react to shit, and that freaks me out. I'm so glad I've decided to never have children. I have a long way to go.
"Another lady, another time, another heart-broken state of mind, alone in her chambers she dreams of her home, outside she's got a movie-star view...she's got her eyes wide open and she's ready to stare you down...she speaks in words unspoken...she's got her bags packed and she's off to the valley where the sun meets the sea...she wants to live by the ocean and no one is pleased...she gets a house in the mountains, the next day she leaves..."
Will I ever be fully happy and satisfied and content with what I have? Is anyone? I told someone once that it's impossible to be "satisfied" with life, because when that happens, there's nothing else to do, nothing else to try, nothing else to "fix," and you just die. But it would seem like there would be some kind of happy medium out there somewhere--that we wouldn't be doomed, necessarily, to simply sit and deal with this incredible restlessness.
"Don't blame it on me, blame it on my wild heart..."
I have now spent $9.40, and it is just after 9:00 p.m. I need to go home and eat. I'm no closer to finishing that fucking paper, but I do feel better. I'm so glad for this outlet, and for anyone who cares to share it...
Have a lovely evening...
"Has anyone ever written anything for you? In your darkest hour, did you ever hear me sing? Listen to me...has anyone ever given anything to you? In all your darkest hours, did you ever give it back?"
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