So many songs just like Ophelia by Feed Me has me playing the past over with different choices. I remember Tommy mentioned to me once that it takes the heart twice as long to heal as the time it took to build the love that’s breaking. And regardless of what choices or actions I change, the future always remains the same.

I have been looking at myself in the mirror more often, and I like that I can actually look. It has been a long time since I saw my reflection and actually recognized the person looking back at me. I am very excited to get my long brown hair back. It is growing so beautifully. There are still things I look at and wish I were better at, because it would make me feel better as a woman. Just build my self esteem and motivation to do something I guess. I still have yet to master being a girl. I know it is something small and maybe ridiculous when such larger issues are at hand, but I have started to realize that so much of motivation has dissipated due to not being the woman I once was. I want to understand make up, styling hair, and fashion. I feel disconnected with the artist inside of me. I feel disconnected from all things creative. I am so uncertain of my future, and that scares me.

I am tired of being a student. I never thought I would feel this way, but I just cannot lead this life. I finally have someone I want to spend my life with and I want to have a successful career to help support the family we create, but I am not sure I have the strength I once had. I do not feel I have the motivation or strength I once had. I know I will have to start repaying my loans and if I do not have a well paying job then I will drown in debt and forever be unhappy. I look at my friends and they are all either finishing up school (undergrad or grad) or they have a job they have been working their lives towards. They are actually using their degrees. For friends that are not working in their degree fields they are still creating art, showing work, getting commissions and functioning as artists. But yet I am taking classes I hate and regardless of my work all semester I am fucking it all up at the end. I am not cut out for anything that demands my time when I am not willing to give it. I am incapable of working a job and going to school. And not because it is difficult, but rather because I could care less.

I think this is the point where people take time away from school and decide what they want to do with their lives. But I am afraid if I do that then I am going to work a random ass job, be a house wife, then a stay at home mom, and then probably end up back in Oklahoma going to some medical technology school to make ends meet with my family. And although medicine does change lives, pay well, and people are thanked for their positions – it is not what I want to do or be. I want to be a hippie mother teaching her children the beauty of the world around them, appreciating nature, learning to get messy and embracing it for the happy mistakes and beauty where its least expected. So much of me wants to get a home in the middle of no where, hardwood floors, and do nothing but art all day every day and sale it for the supplies to make the next days worth of art. I just want to get my hands messy again. Maybe I should go back to art school instead of going to education, but how will I pay for it and what job will I have when I get out. The same questions will arise then as I have now. How do I solve this vicious circle.

There is so much I need to say and so much in my heart that I just cannot carry anymore.And I don’t know that much of it will ever come out. Ugh.. there is so much pain in my heart.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s