Really? Why on the HELL did I commit to living here for three years. THREE. YEARS.

I'm six months down. So only... thirty to go. Fuck.

How am I going to last that many more when I already want to leave?

Britt is out of here in six. And I'll still be here for two after she's gone. I'll be a quarter of a century old before I get to leave.

I want to see the world NOW. I don't want to be in school this long. I want to be in the Peace Corps. Volunteer all over the world. Be with people who have actually suffered and need help. Be with people who don't care about literal objects, but who understand the value of nature, of family, of community.

There is so much more to see. So much more to feel. I want to experience something REAL.

Those days. When you wish the world would die. Or that you could pack up and leave--and never look back.

There is nothing for me here. Besides school. I can't wait to finish, so I can leave.

I'm not going back to where I started. And I'm not coming back here.

I'll find my own Wonderland.

All I want right now is a bottle of vodka and a bottle of narcotics.
I don't even want to be alive anymore.
I want to get so fucked up that I forget how to breathe.

I fucking hate Christmas. I say Merry Christmas and try to be nice because I know that's what God wants. But all the holidays bring is a reminder of how fucked up my family is, and how fucked up my life is.

And now, I have a full month to do nothing but stay in bed and work. Because guess who doesn't have any friends. Okay, that's a lie. Except Chiari doesn't live here, and neither does Katie. Brittany doesn't understand--and even if she did, she won't be around for the next two weeks anyhow.
Tony and Chris are involved in their own situations and the only time they ever want to hang out is when they get sick of me texting them.

If this is what having friends is like, fuck it. At least my dogs pretend they are excited to see me.

give up. keep going. give up. keep going.

the give up in me is taking over. completely. I want to let it.

I really FUCKED it up again.

I will die alone and be left there.
Well I guess I'll just go home,
Oh, God knows where.
Because death is just so full and man so small.
Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before.

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.

After the storm. Mumford and Sons.



I'm really good at breaking down at the end of the semester. In fact, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that it is one of the things I am best at. I feel like it is already too late for me.

I'm torn between wanting to read my Bible and learning more about God --or finishing the two papers that are due today.

The more I learn about God, the less anything else matters. Only the things God asks of us. My brain is exploding with things and words and ideas, and I can't stop long enough to make coherent sense of anything.

God wants us to have relationships, so I suppose that matters, then. But what about everything else? work, school, THINGS. Too much focus on things, not enough on Him. And I suppose that is what it is like to be human. To hae faults. To not know what to focus on, and even when you learn more, to be torn. I'm not asking to be perfect, mind you. I'm definitely not asking to be God. But to know Him! And to know as much as I can about Him! I have never wanted to learn more in my life before! I have so many questions. So many. I feel like I'm bothering and annoying people by asking them.

I'm typing more quickly than normal, trying to get out everything in my head before it leaves. What is the point of me finishing school? I want to learn about Him! But I don't want to go to a Bible school, where I am forbidden from seeing things that ARE in life on earth. Yes, I understand it may be distracting, but if we are to reach out to Christians and non-Christians alike, then how do we reach them if we do not understand them?

Is this possibly why I have gone through so much in my life? divorce, child abuse, molestation, rape, cutting, suicide attempts, hospitalizations, being abandoned by my mom, divorce, drinking, smoking, drugs, porn, sex, eating disorders, wonderful yet awful relationships, finding that God exists, more hospitalizations, more sex, more alcohol, more pushing Him away and trying to hide from Him.

And then ending up here.

Oh dear God! I write it down, and it is a miracle I am even alive!

It is time, perhaps, that I stop asking questions and turning to others for the answers. It is time that I turned to You.

I don't even know what to say. Words literally escape me. I have to write more when I can think clearly. All I know is that I will never again doubt the Goodness of our AMAZING Father. Tonight, Britt and I witnessed a miracle. Tamika. Tamika will remain in my heart for as long as I live. Tonight, God saved her.

Zamilovávám se do Tebe

I want to say it. In my head, I can't stop the words from forming. And its ridiculous. I barely know him. Maybe it's just the idea of him? Half of me keeps talking me into believing it is the truth, that what I feel is real. And the other half of me is shouting, "It's just an idea! It's not real! There is NO hope! Look at the movies you have seen recently! No one ends up where you think they will!"

I just want every minute leading up to seeing him to speed up, and every moment I'm around him to slow down.

But I don't know if I'll ever risk opening my mouth. The idea of losing a friend is too hard.

What am I doing with my life? Is it really going to matter? I want to travel and see everything. I want to run and be free.

But I also want love and security. Somewhere--and someone--to call home.

I look at him, and inside my whole world lights up.

You know the scene in 500 Days of Summer where you see expectations and reality playing at the same time? In my head, that is all I can see.

Oh lawd. Sometimes I'm a really really big dork. Like when the Librarian has to kick me out of the library ten minutes after it closes. Which meant that I was at the library until 12:10. AM. And guess where I am now? The library. Me <------ nerd.

I finished my theology paper around 2am. It makes me really happy. I think I'll write more someday, but for now, I'll just keep it where it is.

Okay, back to work. I neeeeeed to get things done before I leave for MD this weekend. I don't want to do anything at home except see people and have fun. I cannot wait! Two of my best friends get to meet each other! AND the boys might even come down for a day!

I am so thankful that God has sent me friends. People that don't judge me, but who also Believe. I haven't laughed so much in a long time. It's incredible how things work out when you just listen to Him.

Can I tell you how good I am at avoiding everything I need to do, all the time? Not just today or this week. Oh no. ALL THE THINGS. ALL THE TIME.

Today, however, was productive. After an evening of monumental epicness, I proceeded to stay up until 5 am doing homework. (I should note, that it was not I, but my uterus that decided to keep me up until that ungodly hour). Anyhow, I succeeded in waking up late. As in 15 minutes into my first class in which the paper I was writing was due. Alas, the paper still remains incomplete, even after seven pages of single spaced typing. What is my life. However, it is, quite possibly, the most fabulous thing I have ever written. EV.AR. And it isn't even complete. So, I decided to go to the bank (LIKE A MOTHER FUCKING ADULT), and deposit a check before heading over to campus. Upon arrival, my stomach began to grumble, so off to the Den I went. The food on campus isn't bad--and it is roughly half the price of Towson's gross food. I grabbed a bagel and cc, but when I got to the library, I discovered the cc was reduced fat. Gross.

I made it in time for my second class, which as progressively gotten less entertaining as the semester has dragged on. After class I ran upstairs to attend a Library Club meeting. Last week, it was decided that I would be president. Whatever that means. In my head, I just keep telling myself that it will look awesome on my resume. However, because I am el presidente, I had to get back on crackbook in order to make a Library Club page. This is what my life has been reduced to. But in all seriousness, it's kind of fun. I'm meeting more people on campus AND I'm getting involved. Take that, Dr. Crawford.

The rest of the day was spent in the library. If I calculated right, 10:50 am-6:35 p.m. is almost eight hours. Good lord, that's ridiculous. Then I had/wasincrediblylatefor class. Thankfully, it ended early, and I came home, only to get in a fight with Gram. What a wonderful, fulfilling day.

In case you couldn't tell, that last sentence was spewing sarcasm.

And now, here I am, doing more homework. Well, writing this in my short break, but ultimately doing more homework. By the time next Friday gets here, I might be completely dead.

At least I get to road trip it up with Britt AND see Chi this weekend! Worst possible timing ever, but that is pretty much the story of my life, isn't it.

Sunday evening, November 21st

I am so tired. Exhausted would be a good word to use, actually. I worked thirty hours from Wed to today, and I have also managed to avoid all of my homework. Which means that tomorrow is going to be a day filled with mountains of monotonous school work. If I could get excited about it, I would. But at this point, I just want the semester to end. It's time for a break. Time for my body to slow down. Time for my brain to only focus on writing and reading for pleasure.

On another note entirely, I deleted my facebook. I decided that I was spending to much time on the computer, and not enough time talking with God. All of those things that keep me from talking to God... it's time to let go of those. And that dream I have of being in love and having my own family, I just have to let it go. God is enough. I just need to learn that.

Facebook has taken up too much of my life.

So today, I said good-bye to it.

I don't want to run, but I don't want to stay here, either. I can't seem to find contentment anywhere I go. I just want to scream.

I just can't do this anymore.

I'm so afraid that I'll never be done with what I have left to do here.

I want to see the WORLD.

I really don't want to complain. I'm in a better place than I have been in years. My whole life, even. School. Work. Friends. God.

But I miss having someone to love. Someone who loves me. Someone to cuddle with. And tell stories. And go on adventures.

Like I said, I don't want to complain. I just hope that I don't have to feel alone forever.

Sunday, November 7th

When I saw this PostSecret I immediately thought of you.

I was devastated when you left. I told myself I would never love again. But you leaving led me to God. And as much as I regret everything that happened, and as much as I wish you would come back to me, everything has changed. I’m not who I was—and neither are you.

I never got a chance to thank you before you left. So this is me thanking you for leaving me broken. Now I know the reason—I have to turn to Him before I can love anyone else, including myself.

EDIT:

I think I love myself now. For the first time in 22 years.

I love Him more, though.

EDIT:

I'd be lying to myself if I ignored the fact that I miss you. But maybe I just miss who you were, and what we had.

Maybe I'm just afraid that no one else will ever love me.

Wednesday November 3rd, 2010

ugh.
Girl in Theology class pissed me off.
We were discussing God as the point of life.
"Oh yeah, come on, how often do YOU think about God in the day?"
"You really don't want to ask me if you're trying to prove a point. Honestly? ALL THE TIME."

Sometimes I feel like I'm failing. Like I'm falling away from Him. I don't talk to Him as much as I should. I don't pray as much as I should. I've been finding excuses to skip church. Excuses to skip Bible Study. Excuses to avoid people that will push me in the right direction.

But at the end of the day, He is still the reason I'm here. The reason I'm alive and the reason I continue to live. He is my purpose, my everything.

October Twenty-fifth, One Twenty-two Ante Meridiem

Stayed up late again talking to him.

And it might be time to stop procrastinating and talk to Him, too.

October 24th. 3:19 a.m.

Haunting thoughts slash why I can't sleep:

What if I am supposed to be alone forever? What if that's what God has planned for me? Will I ever really be okay with that?

Do I want a husband and kids and... family more than I want God? Can't it be the same thing? Can't expressing my love for and towards other people be loving God and working through Him at the same time?

What if I die before I make a mark? What will be left? I have a slightly-forgotten, long list of things I want to do before I go. I want a family of my own. I want to write a book. Not in any particular order, but before I go up with Him.


I need to chill out and go to bed. Especially with so much going on tomorrow. And this week. On the bright side, I got roughly nothing done that I wanted to this weekend.

Fuck.

Friday, October Twenty-Second

What to write? Or how much can I write before I feel like falling apart?
Well, if falling apart is the case, I should have ceased before even starting to write- but where would that have left us?

I have some sort of upper respiratory infection going on, which is truly unpleasant. Truth be told, I don't think the doctors know what is wrong with me, and therefore prescribed me the universal "z-pack" in super form. (By super, I mean a five day script versus a seven or ten day one.)

So not having done anything for two whole days, I became restless, as any soul might would had been holed up in their room for two days. Don't get me wrong, I love sleep, but being in bed not communicating with anyone except for Gram was kind of driving me nuts. Also being fully aware of the fact that attendance and participation counts towards our final grade, I figured that I had missed more than enough assignments to suffice for the semester. So what did I do? I set my alarm like a good little twenty-two year old who is trying to act like an adult. Not only did I set it, but I woke up with more than enough time to get ready to go. I packed tea, Gatorade, cough drops, Dayquil, and a roll of toilet paper- I was now entirely prepared for class! Knowing that I had to work directly after getting out of class, I packed my work clothes and headed out the door.

Once in class, I decide to take over an entire row of chairs/desk space, much like I normally do. I laid all of my wonderful sick-y treasures out on the table and proceeded to cough, hack, and blow my nose all the way through Philosophy class. After that was finally over it was time for Educational Psychology- WAhOOO! My favorite! (insert sarcasm here). Now, I usually don't mind taking the stairs, even though three full levels of narrow, windy staircases really isn't my thing. But that day, Oh no, stairs and my lungs? Uh uh. After slowly tredging up one set of stairs leading from the dungeons of the theatre building that was entirely unavoidable, I got to the basement of the next building and pushed the button for the old, creaky elevator. And who decides to join me but four obnoxious freshmen/sophomores from my Ed Psych class who think they are God's gift to funny. And then, to make it even MORE interesting, Mr. Philo-teach shows up. "Sorry you're sick." "Yeah, thanks." "I know what that's like. But you just gotta get back to school. The world doesn't stop because you're sick, ya know?" "Yes."

Oh you M*&$@#F*%^)*@ DumbAss! Why the hell do you think I came to your class this morning? Because I enjoy it? Have fun lying to yourself about that one. [end rant].

Get to class, proceed to be exiled from class. Why? Because they are discussing the test that I was out sick for. Joy. Come back to class from the wonderful world of hallways (which consisted of laying out on the floor and taking a fifteen minute nap), and do... absolutely nothing, because I have not yet printed out the module we were working on in class.

Leaving class, I schedule to make up the test, and applaud myself at being so entirely prepared for that day of school.

Now, I could stop there, but it does, in fact, get better.

Still hacking my face off, I decide it will be a good idea to not call off work. So I drive straight there from school, just so I will have enough time to change in the bathroom like a homeless person before clocking in. Yay! Plenty of time. I do my best to hide the hacking, but let's face it, everyone knows I'm sick, so there's really nothing to hide. Every time I need to cough, I hold it in and wait until I REALLY have to cough, then go to the backroom and release coughing. This process continues for the next four hours. (Mind you, all of the customers STARED at me because I sounded like a frog). But I was feeling better, I was, I was!

4:30 hit and my back started doing funny things. It was like growing pains, only deathly and concentrated. So I stopped for a few seconds before rushing back in to whatever it was that I was doing. 5:00 it. Was the clock right? Did I really have two hours to go? I don't think I can make it. Sure you can! Toughen up! Get back to work! It's only two hours!!! Okay, back to work.

5:30 hits. Breathing becomes increasingly difficult. I struggle to hold on to thoughts and words, looking to my shift manager for direction every step of the way. (Keep in mind, I have been working there for over a month, I know what to do, but I also know that this is the one boss who I feel like nothing I ever do is going to meet her standards/I.do.nothing.right.) I keep telling myself, "one more thing. One more thing. then you can ask to leave a little early." So eventually I did. Ask to leave early, that is. Now I'm a sucker for work, if you need me I'm there. Plus, admitting I needed to leave early to my shift who I really want to please was kind of humiliating, in a sense. She said that she didn't know, because x,y,z, etc,etc. All I heard was "no! you must work until you die! or until 7 pm, in which case then you are free to leave."

So I sucked it up. I mean, come on, who needs lungs to breathe? Not this girl. Okay, I lied. 6:12. "Sam? (girl I work with) "Yeah?" "Where's the closest ER?" "Uhhh..." "K, I'm gonna go call my aunt to take me, ok?" I proceed to run (ok, awkwardly walk/skip/something due to failure of lungs) to the back room, pick up my cell and call my aunt. "AB?" "Yeah" "U hom?" "Yeah..." "I..ah wor... need hospital...u com take me?" "On my way."

Shift manager bursts in the backroom. "KAT!" "ye." "Come on! I'm taking you! Sam told me, why didn't you say anything? Let's go!" "k."

The next four/five hours proceeded painfully, as I arrived at the ER alone (I told my shift I was ok to be alone because AB was n her way). Trying to tell the people at the desk was wrong/not being able to understand, think, or speak properly/them not realizing that I just moved from out of state proved to be an issue. I was doing the best I could, really I was, but all I could hear and feel was AGIHAWWLLKKKK, mucus dribble, KACALLLLTKKK, chunk of mucus, inability to breathe, etc. It had escalated on the scale of asthma attacks to the point where after taking x-rays of my lungs, the doc ordered not one, not two, but three super nebulizer treatments for me. Plus an IV of steroids. Plus more steroids for home. Plus more neb treatments for home.

It did not actually proceed as quickly as that, in fact, I was coughing up my right lung for over an hour before they actually did anything. Which sucked. A lot.

So now I am once again, suck at home, with doctor's orders that if he finds out I have gone to work or school, he will personally beat me up.

(I'm pretty sure God is saying the same thing.)

Damn, I am hard-headed.

So. Tired. Even with copious amounts of caffeine, I'm having a hard time fighting off sleep. Which is definitely a good thing, because I have two days to catch up on. That's what I get for barely sleeping yesterday.

But my mind was too... everywhere. Yesterday was AMAZING. I want to write about each and every detail, but my brain is shutting off. All I can think to say right now is: God is SO GOOD! I am in shock and awe every time I notice Him working. And yesterday, I actually felt Him with me, talking TO ME. Words cannot even begin to describe it...

-K

September Nineteenth, Two-Thousand Ten

*Deep intense sigh*

Autumn has arrived. Not officially of course, but the signs are here. The chill is in the air, the pumpkins are out, and best of all, the leaves are beginning to change. Green becomes brilliant shades of yellow, orange, and red. Now living in Pennsylvania, I look out the window and see mountains of marvelous color. Literally.

School is well underway; I'll be going into my fourth week on Monday. School is... better than it has been in a long time. And I am more than thankful to God for that.

But bed has been calling my name for the past three hours, so I think I'm going to give in now.

-K