The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness

oh and i got a hamster named harry.

he bites.
we think.
so we are to scared to play with him to much.

huh.

i always have so much to say, so much to write, when i am not sitting here in the library, staring at this computer screen…
but then i realize that to be sane, you must keep a part of you hidden from maybe everyone, so that you alone own something resembling yourself….

i am happy. sometimes. and angry. sometimes. and lonely. alot. and unsure about my future, but running at it head on. i am living the kind of life people (young poor people) do in movies, and some how that makes me feel empty. i filled out a survey today, which is supposed to help them evaluate my mental health, and i wondered if it all came down to “do you ever feel out of control?” (yes) “do you have more on your mind than you know what to do with?” (yes) “do you feel loved and important to those around you?” (some times.) “have you ever lashed out in anger and physicly hurt someone?” (yes) “are you happy?”
(yes)

but i can remember being happier.
and i don’t want to live my life wondering what happened.

nothing going on this weekend, dr appointment on tuesday, thanksgiving on thursday (maybe going home, maybe hanging out with kerensa and her family), dr appoinment dec. 3rd, life life life in between.

*i am a ghost

today = good day (if the keyboards in the crber cafe wen’t so dumb.)
woke up early, ran to town, got a disk that teaches me ASL, have 1 class. little work, and then i am going home. whow whow whow.

YAY

that the other day, at the EWU action, i got a button maker and a big red locker, amoung other things?

life is good.

today is danes bday. you should all call right now while he is at work and leave messages on the machine. he also got an interview at toys-r-us on friday, and i think finding that out is better than any birthday present yet.

i wish i had $$ to make today a birthday birthday, with beer and people and food and stuff. but instead i am making him a cake, making dinner, renting his favorite movies (yes, more sopranos), and just making him the birthday boy. it’s weird that this is the first of his birthdays that we have been together. i forget that we havn’t always been ward and june cleaver.

i feel sick sick sick and don’t want to go to class/work/anything other than home. but i have to. lame-ness.

driving home last night, crying, i saw a sign that said “life is good” at some random store (a carpet store?) and it made me feel better. there is a small window where you can talk yourself into being happy before you fall into true depression, and i am trying trying trying to remind myself that life IS good. because i have a feeling that if i don’t think so now, it may be a while before i do….

dreams about babies and things make me uneasy.

oh oh oh oh.
i am so happy and so sad and so many emotions all exagerated and asking asking demanding to be let out, and i cant! i don’t know how anymore!
natalie goldberg says to just write, that your heart will let go, and that eventually, maybe right now, maybe years from today, i will be okay. maybe maybe maybe if nothing else ever happens, 15 years from now i will be happy happy content. i find the anti-smoking ad in the magazine and i DON’T cry, but i cut out the letters from a woman to her children, to her grandchildren, saying she is sorry, because i can remember my mothers shaking voice, saying how sorry she was that she would not be there when i wanted wanted, needed her.
now is that time, when a friend is pregnant, when i realize how grown up i am, when i realize my mother left me left me was taken from me before i ever had my first child, before i was ever married, before i ever even fall in love. love love this bottomless hole that i am so afraid of hitting bottom, so afraid that i will not beat the odds, so afraid that things will never never NEVER be okay.
now is that time, when i wake up so happy, when life seems to make sense for a moment, the sun fighting it’s way in through shades pulled shut, his smell engulfing me, my day so simple, so carefree. i just want to call her! to sit and have the conversations about nothing that will never happen. never. no matter how good i am, no matter how hard i pray or just how much, how very very much, i want it.
and in the midst of a nice, decent night, i fall into the depression that keeps my lids full of tears, and my heart aching aching broken. now is the time that i need something something someone to fix my life. to mend my broken heart, to close all of these wounds that bleed me to exaustion. i am tempted to cover myself in bandaids just so someone will ask what is wrong, and i can take them all off and say “you find it. find what is wrong. and fix it.”
because i can’t.
i have almost given up on it.

but the bright point of my day?
there was a pubic hair painted into the wall in angies (christian school) room.
(how sick am i that that makes me laugh?)

these are big