Wednesday, March 18, 2009

physical, mental, or emotional strain or tension:

yeah, sorry that it's been a good....18 days? Wow.

Anyway, this is about to be an incredible session of feeling/emotion/word vomit that I need to get out.

I am stressed. with a capital STRESSED! Nothing that I can't handle, but I am so ready for this week to go, so that everything it held can be...gone (my great writing skills leave me when I feel like this.) Shall I bullet? Some may be extra long. I'll just space.

First of all, money. This isn't something I have to worry about often. I don't have a car payment, I get free gas 99% of the time, etc. I have make enough as a turtle to support my love of cheap jewelry and shirts (somewhat, anyway). I can eat out a few times on each paycheck, and I can buy expensive thing if I want to (I just bought a chi a few weeks ago). I'm not telling you this to make you wish you were me or anything, I'm just setting up the stress lol. I realize that I am incredibly lucky, especially today. I am by no means rich- I made like $6000 this year. But for me, it's enough and I don't usually worry. A few months ago, Lori told me that in preparation for the upcoming college financial debacle, she was going to put my entire SS check into savings for the rest of the time I get it (until I'm 18). That means I was buying EVERYTHING that I got (this includes clothes and food and shampoo and makeup and shoes and etc and etc) on my own. I had to cut back a little, but it still wasn't really a problem. But then, a week ago, I got asked to prom (yaaaaaay!). Yay, right? Well, yeah, yay, but it was in 2 weeks notice. I was about to get paid and I still had $100 left from a previous paycheck, but prom is EXPENSIVE. My date is a GREAT date and insisted on buying my $40 ticket, but I footed the bill for the $200 dress and borrowed $150 from Lori to do it, and promised I'd pay her back next paycheck- which was 3 days away. Since this whole borrowing thing got me a nice "you're irresponsible" speech, I wanted to return the payment in full. Problem: I got paid $155. Yes, my friends, I kept $5. And I still have hair and nails and alterations and I don't want to go without money for dinner even though I bet my date will pay. So geeeez!!! I had to borrow $50 from my teacher who is very close to me and offered, but still, I feel awful. And I still don't think it will be enough (did I mention Chris's birthday?), because I have no clue how much my hair will cost or if I will have to pay for dinner. It's stressful.

Moving on, to school. Both high school and college. Right now, I've got a B, possibly a C in precal. I am not a B possibly a C girl! I have a 4.03! Seriously! But it's hard and I just DON'T get it. I cannot understand it the way he explains it. I can't. I look at the problems and I don't have a smidgen of clue how to do them. Not even sort of. And it seems like some of the other people get it, and I don't know how. And then there are like 48769576 distractions in that class and it just...I don't get it. And anatomy is hardddddd. I think once we get over the bones it will be okay, but I have a lab practical (!) Friday that is going to be killer. Seriously. And between writing an essay for this scholarship and applying to the Honors College and paying this and blahhhhh, college is still stressing me out. But it will be okay. And I should really be studying for anatomy.

And then there' dad. The mother (father?) of all my issues. He hasn't spoken to me in months, and suddenly, I've gotten two tearful phone calls in one day. I don't know if it's because he is going to jail soon probably or because I received some kind of scary health news (stress!), or a combination of the two, but he's apologizing and apologizing and making me swear I won't turn out like him and telling me how much he loves me. heart is hard. It shouldn't be, but it is. I know what I should do. God is gently prodding. But, it would be one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Tonight, at church, our lesson was about conflict (I got one phone call before church and one after. I guess since I've been saying no to God, He just decided to push the situation along. And if you don't believe there's a God, if you don't have a relationship with Him, I hope that somehow you'll see Him through me. CONFLICT, was what my lesson was about. "Peacefaking." It's God, God, God, being so clear. Sorry, I digress in my parenthesis.). Anyway, I'm just not ready. Not like, I eventually will be ready, but like, I will never be ready, so I might as well go over there. But...ouch. My heart trembles at the thought of even thinking about it. I know what to do, I'm just trying to gather the strength to do it. God keeps saaying, "I'll be right there. I'll be right there." And I know He will, which is the only thing that makes me think I might be able to.

Did I mention to you I'm stressed? If I didn't have to go be stressed on the treadmill (beach! prom dress! need to relieve stress! I really do take my anger out on my ankles and the treadmill), I list and list, but I'm not trying to whine, I'm just....getting it out.

As a footnote, I must say, that even with all of this, I'm surprisingly happy. That's God, too. Before, bad days got me down. Way down. For days. Bad days caused bad days which caused bad days which was a cycle that never ended. But now, I don't really have bad days. My strength- the strength that my relationship with Him has given me- is keeping me up. Seeing the blessings, keeeping me happy. Because I have hope, that everything will be okay and that I will glorify Him through it, and that I'll just get over it. I'll solve it. This strength and hope is surprising me. I didn't know I had it in me. On second thought, I guess I didn't. That's my whole point.

My dad keeps asking me to pray for him. I truthfully told him that I pray for him everyday.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

I guess that since I've told you, I can talk about it now. It's sort of a relief, because the only other person that knows is Courtney.

It was a Friday, but school was out, so we were at home. Emilee was not there- and I can't remember where she was, because my nana was in the hospital. My mom had to pick her up and take her home. The day before I promised I would go with her. She'd been home from rehab for about two weeks. That morning, Courtney was going somewhere- I can't remember where, but I wanted to go with her, instead of with my mother. I was still very, very angry with her. Anyway, my mother begged me to go with her.

Please come, Lindsey. Please come with me. We'll go to Sonic afterwards, I promise. Just come with me.

No. I want to go with Courtney.

Please? We'll have fun. We'll pick up Nana, take her home, and hang out. Please, baby.


Please, please, please come with me. I don't want to go by myself. Please come with me.

I'm not going anywhere with you!

I know that she wouldn't take me to get those pills- she got them from a lady whose name I won't post here, but who didn't live in a great neighborhood. If nothing else, she knew that I was smart enough to figure out what she was there for, and that I would tell. She was supposed to be clean, remember. And I would have told. I think she knew, though, that she wasn't strong enough to not go, if I wasn't with her- she'd had a huge fight with my dad the night before. And so she begged me. If I ever talk to her again, I'll say, "Why didn't you just make me? Say get in the car, you're going?" But I was so angry with her, and I don't think she wanted to make that worse. That day I wanted to be anywhere but where she was; ironically, everyday since that day, all I've wanted is to be with her.

I pitched a fit and she left. She was wearing khaki capris and a black shirt and she had a black sweater tied around her neck. She drove a red trooper. She was supposed to be back home soon, but Courtney dropped me off and left and she wasn't. I called her cell phone a whole bunch but she didn't answer. And when she finally did get home, she had Zaxby's. And she was acting funny, but I recognized it immediately. I knew what had happened, then. But I didn't think she was going to die.

I've gone over and over this day in my head a million times at least. I live with this, everyday. You can try to talk me out of it, but I was there; I remember exactly. No, I didn't kill her. But If I had gone, like I promised, if I had been less angry at her and just appreciated that she was trying, then she wouldn't have died that night. Maybe later, but not that night. I played a part in it. And I haven't forgiven myself.

And that's what nobody knows. I've never told Laine or Chris and Lori or anyone, that i was supposed to go, becuase I know that they'd know that she wouldn't have picked up those pills with me. The lady who gave them to her got arrested after she died for doing it. But you do, now. But I didn't tell you so you could save me from it; I just told you so it would stop being so heavy, because I think about it all the time. If she's where she can hear me, I apologize all the time. I tell her every time I visit her that I am so, so sorry that i didn't go and that I see now why she wanted me too. That she needed me to be strong for her, and I wasn't.
You do know that anytime you decide you want to be different, you can just start, right?
Have you ever just felt alone? As if you could get up, get in your car and drive away and just keep driving, and not one person in your life would notice, or care. That's how I feel, right now. I could just drive and drive and drive, and my phone would be on silent, but I would keep checking it, but nobody would call. There wouldn't be a text message or a voicemail, and nobody would care where I was. They would just go on living, just like they did when I was here, as if nothing was different.

The saddest part about this is that I could probably call them during my dirve, but I'd get voicemails. I'd send text messages and get ignored. And finally, I would just stop trying and drive.