The future?

Most little girls dream of the day they get married, picture their first house, and have the perfect husband planned out in meticulous detail as soon as they can talk. I, on the other hand, don't know the slightest thing about a fantasy wedding, white picket fence, or lifelong partner. Does this make me abnormal? Probably. Does it make me careless? More than likely, but you know what it doesn't make me? Vulnerable.

The way I see it, as soon as I draw the picture of how my life is supposed to be in ten years, I'm just walking into a shitload of disappointment. The thing that screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be. This picture gives us false hope; it does nothing but show us how quickly things can be fucked up. If I don't have a specific path for my future, how am I going to know when something goes "wrong"? That's right, I won't.

Have you ever heard the saying, "what you don't know can't hurt you"? That's where I'm going with this. If I don't know how my life is going to turn out, it can't hurt me.

Stop trying to lay out the stepping stones of your life in the fucking mud! They'll do nothing but sink, and create a disaster. Instead, save your money and say "screw the stepping stones!" Walk through the mud if you have to; jump over the puddles and stomp through the grass! Roll with the punches!!

Don't paint a pretty picture and then touch it before it's dry, that will only mess up the finished product. Don't let yourself be disappointed by life. This picture only makes you vulnerable and open to heartbreak. Stop trying to control the uncontrollable and just accept life as it happens!

My ultimate goal in life is to be happy. If I'm single, living in a one bedroom apartment, and teaching in a pea-sized town when I'm 40 then so be it. As long as I'm happy. The moment I say that I want my life to follow a certain path, I'm setting myself up for pain in the end. Nothing ever goes as planned; we just have to trust that it will go the way it's supposed to. I don't care if your faith lies with God, science, or fucking bees, but you have to believe in something. Life is too insane not to.

So attack with white out, erasers, and scribbles and throw away all your expectations. Expectations lead to disappointments and disappointments inevitably lead to unhappiness, so stop expecting and just start accepting. Accept that life isn't going to go your way all the time, and end the stigma that it's not normal if you haven't planned your wedding before you've even had your first kiss. It's perfectly normal, and much easier in  the long run.

I've been "rolling with it" for 17 years and I'm going to continue living my life off the beaten path and trust that I'll end up where I'm supposed to be in the end.

Are you happy now?

I know I go back and forth between being totally content with my life and completely unhappy with every tiny piece of it. Don't ask me why, because I haven't got the slightest idea. Today has just been one of those days. Actually, this past week has been pretty shitty. Between the ACT, being sick, Beta skit drama, and school in general, I could go postal any second now.

Along with a sinus cocktail, an antibiotic shot, and oral antibiotics, I was given Prednisone to take for my sinus infection. This shit is insane. It is supposed to make you gain weight, and I can definitely tell. I wasn't a twig before I started taking it, but I had a slight panic attack when I was changing clothes in front of my full length mirror earlier today. I lost my appetite completely while I was sick, and lost a little weight; the weight loss was noticeable, and I loved it. Now I'm back to whale status, and it sucks ass.

On another note, only 66 days left until I get to leave everything behind for a whole month and live in Chattanooga. No one knows how badly I need this. I desperately need some time away from everyone and everything here in Lexington.

I can't decide if it's the people/places I want to get away from, or if it's just me trying to escape my mind again. I can't seem to drill it through my thick skull that I simply cannot run away from the monsters that live in my mind.

I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, so I feel like I should end this post now.

Ramblings..

Life without Cooper is strange, but getting better. Spunky has been greeting me in the mornings and afternoons lately, and it's as sweet as ever. He's definitely no Cooper, but he's a sweetheart.

I take the ACT again tomorrow. This time It's the required test for all Juniors. I'm not looking forward to it, mainly because I've been sick. I feel like complete shit, and I don't know how I'm going to survive through the four hour fucking test tomorrow. I also NEED to raise my scores. If my math and science don't come up a point each, I'm just screwed. I just wish I were smart enough to score in the upper twenties/ lower thirties with ease. Mom has standards set for me that I never knew about; she expects all four subscores to improve, not just math and science like I've been working on.

I'm just screwed beyond belief. If I come out of there with slight improvement, it would be an act of God.
And then to top it all off, I slept all afternoon, so I won't be able to sleep much tonight.

Besides the ACT tomorrow, I ended up with a 95 in Anatomy and Physiology for the third quarter. Disappointed doesn't accurately describe how terrible I feel about it. It stands out like a sore thumb among my 100's and 99. It makes me look stupid, and I despise it.

I also hate when I don't have the right thing to say at the right time. That is certainly not a talent of mine; I can never form a sentence with the words I want to say when it needs to be said. I always manage to make things worse. I honestly believe that I shouldn't be able to converse with other human beings at times.

I just glanced over at my bed, only to be surprised at the amount of clothes and other shit that has accumulated over the weekend. After Cooper died Friday, I wasn't in the mood to clean. I piled everything on my desk, and left it all there for two days straight. That is the antithesis of who I am and how I like my room to be kept. Oh well.

On another note, I've been drinking a TON of water lately. I'm pretty proud of myself, actually. If only I could get off my lazy ass and walk/run everyday. Cooper was my walking buddy, and clearly he can't be that for me anymore. So I guess I'll just be lazy and not get out anymore.

And in my second to last post, "I'm gonna make it happen!" I mentioned giving up cutting for lent. Yeah, that didn't work too well. I slipped up a couple weeks ago, and almost slipped Saturday night. I was wearing shorts, though, and I couldn't do anything to myself without the blood soaking through the thin running shorts I was wearing. I was so emotional over Cooper, though. I have considered doing it tonight as some sort of stress reliever before the ACT. I'll weigh it while I'm cleaning.

I think I'm done rambling for now. I need to clean my room and attempt to wind down for bed, considering it's 9:40.

Pathetic? Possibly..

My dog was hit by a car and killed yesterday.

Dramatic way to start a post, right? I know. Is it pathetic that I've cried more over Cooper than I have cried in the past 6 months? Maybe.

I keep telling myself that he was just a dog. But he wasn't just a dog. He was, in some weird way, my best friend. I miss the little guy terribly. He even managed to get a mention in my autobiography that I had to write for my English class.

I'm bawling my eyes out trying to write this stupid blog post. I feel like such a pathetic loser, honestly.

I feel even worse that I never really said goodbye. I haven't even gone to see his grave. I don't plan on it, either. I missed the entire scene; the car, mom running up the hill, everything. I'm really glad I did, too.

As soon as I came out of my room and saw mom, I went into shock. Complete and utter shock. I didn't cry; I just started shaking uncontrollably from the moment I saw him until I got to my friends house. He took me and we went for coffee and such, just so we could both get away. (I had made these plans earlier in the day, before Cooper died).

Anyway, I just miss him. And I feel like an idiot for crying over him the way I have. I've held it together for Jesse, because the poor kid cried for hours and sat by his grave for half an hour talking to him while I was gone last night. I just can't bring myself to say goodbye, because that means my best friend is actually gone. It means I can't run with him up to the mailbox again. It was weird going to check the mail today, because he wasn't there with me. I used to love to race him up there, and watch him get so excited about going outside.

He always got so excited about going outside. If you said, "Cooper, wanna go outside?!" he would bark and jump up and down and sometimes cock his little head. It was always precious.

Spunky and Socks aren't themselves, either. I can tell they're both grieving. They just keep moping around the house, and Socks has been going up to the spot where Cooper last laid, and looks down at my mom as if Cooper in going to come back. It's so sweet and heartbreaking at the same time.

I just miss my little stink bomb/fluff butt/little guy. I can't believe I'm crying so much over such a  little thing big part of my life.

I'm done now. I don't think I can come up with anything else to say, I've got friend/ friend's boyfriend drama to attend to, and I need to get the snot and tears off my face.