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Thanks for visiting my diary. I've been journaling since 1984 and have chosen to share some of my entries online. They are not all positive thoughts, but I hope that reading them might be a blessing to someone who needs encouragement.
If you are just coming to my diary for the first time, please read my introductory entry, where I share some background that is important if you plan to follow this diary regularly.
Please also visit my music page, where you can hear samples from my debut CD, I Believe, which features songs written based on experiences shared in this journal.
My parents are moving from Texas to Indiana in August, and they want me to go with them. I don't want to move to Indiana. I like it there, but the university there doesn't have the degree programs I'm interested in and there is not good public transportation where they are going to live. I'm about to graduate from here, supposedly. My grades are awful! I don't even know if I can get into any graduate programs. I've been trying to look for some kind of job in some major city. At least if I lived in a major city, I'd be near an airport, and this would be acceptable to them. I hate clerical work. I want to work with kids more than anything. It's always been one of my dreams. The other has been to be a counselor. I had finally found a job that sounded perfect. It was filled yesterday. I just found this out. What can I do with a BA in psychology? Absolutely nothing, to my knowledge, but that's limited. That is what people tell me. I could be a manager or something, but guess what. It's way out of my interest.
I've been at this stupid school for six years and another one for two years before that. I've nearly completed each of three or four different programs. I have this knack for dropping out at crucial moments. I'm ashamed to show my face in the education department here. I'm ashamed to show my face anywhere here. I've dropped out almost every semester for the last few years.
Last spring, my husband went out of town to look at a new town where we thought about moving. I was not doing well in my classes. I was trying to take a class about research methods in psychology. It's hard to do statistics when you can't see what you're working with. It's taking up most of my mental energy. We fought the day before he left about the fact that I cannot teach in my field in this other state without a Master's degree. He says send out resumes anyway. I say why send them out when I know I am not qualified. That night, I have more memories of childhood sexual abuse. This is something he had asked me about a while back. We had been having difficulties. I want to tell him about it. I want to be held. I am scared. He ignores me.
The last day he is supposed to be gone, he calls me. He says God spoke to him and he now has a wonderful idea. We'll move to Ft. Worth where his mom is. I can get a job there, and she'll help us. I know from past experience that his mom resents the fact that we need help with transportation. It's an imposition on her, and we are ungrateful. We need to realize that we are at other people's mercy and treat them with respect.
This call comes right before I am supposed to go to that research methods class. I can't make it through class. I run out of the room and get disoriented. Where am I, and where am I supposed to go? I finally make it to my friend's house. I call my parents. They come the next day and move me and all my stuff back home. I've been separated for a year. I have continued to enroll in school, and I've continued to not finish any classes. Now my parents are moving.
I don't want to go with them. Not that I don't love them. I have no independence when I am living with them. They want me to live close enough so they can help "when I need it." I don't need it. I don't want it. Not when it takes away my independence. Not when I have no self because I'm so isolated. I don't know who I am. I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't want to be 50 years old and working some office job and saying, "Gee, I wish I'd gone to school." I'm already 25, and my grades are bad, and it is my fault because I insisted on trying to create myself a social life. Part of me wants to die. No, I'm not going to do anything. There's a part of me that isn't willing to settle for suicide. But I feel so completely trapped in some prison that I made and threw away the key to. I'm screaming: "I want out! Somebody please hear me! Somebody please tell me the grades and the bad attendance don't matter! Somebody please believe in me, believe that this is not who I am or who I wanted to be!" But all the screaming in the world falls on nobody's ears because this world is all about being good and responsible, and I haven't been either of these things. Never mind that I could have been both. I hate me so much right now. I know I shouldn't, but it's really hard not to.
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