Sometimes I wonder how I got to this point in my life. Sometimes I am so afraid to breathe, like I will just wake from this dream and be in fourth grade again; the teacher telling mom that I am not like all the other kids. That I am more than “myself”, I am completely different. Strange. I don’t make friends, I antagonize. 

Sometimes I try to remember my childhood and it’s only bits and pieces, like it’s too scary to remember. I can think back to a birthday, a picture I’ve seen of myself when I was turning four and then, I wake up and I’m in third grade. I go to bed that night, wondering what happened before all of that, and only a bit comes. When I awake the next day, I’m in eighth grade, waiting to check out books and thinking, was it only yesterday that I was in third grade?

So, I look around my home and wonder, how did I get here? Is this better or worse? Am I happier or sadder? What am I missing that I don’t remember in my life? 

Do I even miss the things I don’t remember?

a really neat self-realization kick. Life has changed for me a lot on the home front. I live alone and all I have to worry about are my cats. It’s pretty awesome. 

It also leaves a lot of time for me to think about my life and what the fuck is going on with it. Which is work or not work. I’m hanging out with people now, a big change from when I lived at home and I find that I am doing more things that make me happy. 

It’s kinda strange to me to be happy, for no reason. Which is also kind of sad.

Anyway, I’ve been getting into makeup lately and all that jazz and I wish I would’ve known that life was gonna get better four years ago. I wasted all that time getting a degree in something I hate because other people told me too. We force people into college at to early an age. 

There ain’t hardly a reason for people to settle down at 18 through 21 and decide on something so life changing. I know that some people are sure, but most of us are flying by the seat of our pants. 

When we graduate high school, we are not ready to make any kind of decision and we certainly aren’t ready to realize how to be our own person. I don’t care how awesome your parents are - most of them want us to be their little kiddies until we just can’t take it any longer. Some of us fly early, some leave late and some never leave at all. Then there are those of us who decide to live life somewhere in the middle. 

It’s insane. 

Anyway, I have this useless degree which only helps on job applications (it has landed me jobs in fields it isn’t even for!) but I hate it. And back then, I didn’t know what I loved. I loved a single part of that degree: the artsy part. 

Turns out, I fucking love artsy shit. And artsy makeup. God, if I could back in time and change things, I would stop myself and go to the fashion school or makeup school. But I didn’t, too afraid of what my mother would say - I lost out on a lot of things because of that. I know that it is partly my fault, but she holds some, too. 

My mother taught me to live in fear of myself. I am only now breaking free.

Geeze, this is angsty. All I really wanted to say was: Living on my own has taught me a lot and I finally understand what it means to want to know what I know now then.