Spit Shine Your Black Clouds

I'm creating a box around myself so that no one can come in and I can't get away.

 

I don't want to face reality right now, because it scares me. Anytime I think realistically, the same thing happens, I make the same realizations, and I end up depressing myself to a point where I cry and cry and cry and nothing Derek says can even help to cheer me up. Not that it usually does, I'm very stubborn when it comes to wallowing in a pool of my own self pity. It's not even a pool, it's a lake...an ocean of self loathing.

 

When I think about money, I come back to the same conclusions. Now is not the time in our lives for us to be frivolous, to go spending all willy-nilly one things we want, things we wish we could have, silly material possessions that will not better our lives, better our beings. And yet, today, I told Derek I wanted a digital camera again. Even though two months ago when he asked me if I wanted one for Christmas I said no, that he should get me something useful instead, like socks. I lose socks like you would never believe, trust me, I can't hold on to them to save my life.

 

And then, when I think about money, I end up coming back to the dreaded subject, the subject that always has a way of making me regret every decision I've ever made in the past nineteen years; my career choice. I have none, I haven't had one since I was old enough to comprehend the idea of working for a living. I've never wanted to think about it, always putting it off because people were always telling me that I was young and had plenty of time to think about it. I hate hearing that. I get older, and yet still nothing comes up. I have plenty of hobbies, tons of interests, and yet none of them seem suitable to me to make a career of. I don't know if I can be happy doing them for the rest of my life, I don't know if I could make it without eventually coming up to a midlife crisis, totally breaking down and trying to change careers when it's already too late. I realize nineteen is young, but there are millions of people out there that have everything figured out before this age, there are people out there that have things figured out when their sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and then they go off to college or do whatever it is they have to do to make their dreams a reality.

 

At one point, I remember telling Derek I wish I could be a stay at home mom, cooking, cleaning, taking care of kids. Two problems, I'm very bad at cooking, something about being around a hot stovetop...and I'm not good with kids. I've had people tell me that I'm just not good with other people's kids, but as soon as I have my own, that'll completely change; I don't believe it. Never have. Here's why, I'm envious of children when they're small because of the simplicity of their brains, their inabilities to truly comprehend the horrors and wonders of the world around them, their basic instincts that show them how to need, but not introducing want until later, and then their ability to want just what their parents are willing to supply. I'm envious of the fact that there aren't a million emotions to it, it's just happy-sad-angry, there's no unworded, undescribable feelings plagueing their heads, it's simple, it's basic. And then when they grow up they become the teenagers I do not want to have taking care of me when I'm old and gray.

 

I'm just...lost. I hate thinking about this.