recluse;;

I stayed up until one in the morning with Chad talking about why I'm beginning to doubt my choices in life. Nothing I do really seems to make people happy, least alone me. My mom isn't very fond of my change in major, but is still trying to be supportive. My friends are practically non-existent because they really don't care about what's going on in my life unless it involves liquor or drugs. I don't even know what makes me happy anymore, not really. I only have one off day a week and I typically spend it making lists of things I have to do and conquering the list or doing everything possible to avoid it. It's been four months since I've taken a personal day where I decided what I wanted to do all day and didn't feel any guilt for it. That's too long.

Back in high school I didn't have a lot of friends. I was going through mood swings left and right and it just made sense to keep everyone at arm's length. I lied in making up excuses for why I couldn't go out or what I did for the weekend. You want to know what I did every weekend? I would watch at least six hours of television, read half or a whole book (if not more), write for seven hours and dance around my room for the rest. All by myself. I never had friends come over. I hardly went out. The only time anyone typically saw me let loose was at school dances. Dancing is still one of the few outlets I actually have that works for me. I don't do it so much anymore.

 We joked about how whatever house we decided to move into this July, it needs to at least be a two-bedroom with a finished basement. "I'll bang around downstairs and you won't hear a thing upstairs." It's been hard for me this past year not having a room of my own. Chad has his mancave and thank goodness for it. I can't imagine my sanity levels if I had to deal with his games and music out in the open every day. My stomach tightens at the idea that in a few short months I'll have my sanctuary back. I'll have somewhere to go where it will be just me. Every placement, every book, every article hanging from the wall - it will all be me. I don't think I could take another year without it.

With summer coming up, everyone's making plans to go places. Concerts, out-of-town, amusement parks. The thing I'm most excited for is a road trip through the mountains up to Washington where I get to see my dad and hide away in the thick forests of Whidbey Island. It'll be a four day drive round trip, but with Chad coming along, it should fly by. Just to get away from our regular life and smell the ocean as we come up on Deception Pass ... my heart races. I keep feeling that something needs to change. I don't know what. I don't know how or even when. But I feel it coming. Perhaps I'll have to wait until summer time. Have I not learned patience yet?