I had a breakdown.  A complete loss of faith in myself, in my ability, and in everything that I knew.  I saw the world as something gray and cutthroat, and everything that was beautiful as a front, so that the cruel reality of it all was better swallowed by its inhabitants.  For that time, it was all true.  I felt myself grow numb to it, and the desperation that led me there hardened, and my resolve hardened, and when I was finally ready to take the next step, all of the grey fell away and it everything seemed so stubbornly normal again.  But I feel changed.  I'm taking my steps more carefully, more determinedly, more passionately.  I'm beginning to accept the reality that I may not be here next semester.  I may not be good enough.  This will be the first time that I've ever really faced failure, and it'll be huge.  I don't know what would come after this.  Every door that I've pried open with these hands will be completely closed, and I'll have to learn to break down some walls and really struggle, for the first time ever.  But I'm learning to accept it.  I'm trying, with more ferocity than I thought that I had in me, to stay.  And I think that this is some kind of grim truth of life: my love for some aspects of this field are gone.  There's a lot of hypocrisy and closed-mindedness, a lot of laziness and self-importance that make me really and truly hate everything sometimes, but there is a lot to say for it, when I wake up every morning excited to feel the peace that I only feel when I'm at the clinic.

I haven't gotten back to the point where I'm full of wonder and giddyness, chomping at the bit to take pictures or play games.  That may be good for me, since it means that my clear focus is all-in on this program... and even though I feel like it won't be enough, I won't regret it.  I'm trying, and everything I've got can't always be enough.  The world isn't romantic.  In fact, I doubt it's grey and cruel, too.  It's a sum of everything within it, and what are we?  Every second, it's different.  Maybe, if I'm passionate enough, if I wish hard enough, it'll become softer for just long enough for me to survive.

I love some people, but they already know that.  I don't think that I need to make a tribute to them every week, when my voice lies elsewhere.  I just want them to understand that they're the reason I'm clinging on to this stuff that kills me over and over again.

This week, I tried.  The cold air rewards me.  I studied with the windows open, enjoying the whisper of the breeze and wondering if the blood was rushing to my cheeks, just yet.  As always, I'm making lists in my head: what to make, when I can start guzzling cocoa and really feel it in my belly, whether I'll have money for a tree.  :3.  And what to be for halloween.  I just can't be dead at this time of year, it means too much to me.

Dear diary: I've been a bit blue lately.  It happens to everyone; some, a little bit more than most.  I feel like I bring the very worst out of myself quite often, and AMNP brings it out the rest of the time.  I had held out the hope that I was going to feel super special and cheer up a bit, during my birthday.  Despite my parents being here (I really love feeling secure, the way that I do around them), I managed to spend the entire time wishing with bated breath for something more.  A little bit of disappointment; I guess every birthday can't be filled with balloons and wonder.  And every week can't be happy, or stormy.  I love chasing storms and being emotional.  What I can't stand is days like those, when it's not upsetting or elating, but just grey.  Those days are a waste.  It seems like the older I am, the more grey times happen. And it seems harder to keep myself together, when they hit.  I miss the days when a lollipop could cheer me up, and when I made a pastime of poking people.

I decided to make two lists:  8 things about 22-transitioning-to-23-year-old-me, and 8 birthday occurrences, not previously mentioned.  Since it was my birthday, I want to write all about me... and I remember having a lot of fun doing a "10 things" list in the past; it's just that I can't think of more than 8, and I don't want to push myself to the point that this isn't fun anymore,  ^_^;   So here goes.

1.  I miss the feeling of falling in love.  Where I am is great, I love having somebody dependable and sweet and charming, and I adore Rephe.  But sometimes, I miss the excitement and the tremulous feeling of falling and not knowing whether I'll be caught.  I miss the newness and the shyness and the thumping hearts (they still come back sometimes), and I miss clinging with all I've got because I didn't know if it would be mine to hold onto tomorrow.
1. My parents took me to this lost-baggage store on Monday.  They buy out baggage that people have left, and re-sell everything inside.  It was filled with clothes and clowns, free dippin' dots, tons of DVDs and laptops, cameras... but the one thing that I was hoping to find wasn't there: souvenirs, memoirs, quirky items, like little wooden elephants or old sentimental blankies.  Things that make luggage personal, and tell a story, things that smell of different countries and adventures travelling.  I had a lot of fun, but I was pretty disappointed.
2. I hate being older.  I'm always saying this, and I've written about why a million times, but it never leaves my head.  Let me put it this way: when I was 18, walking up and poking people and sitting alone on top of a wall, thinking, for hours were things that people found quirky and full of personality in me in the past.  Now, people shake their heads, wonder why I haven't grown up, or glare at me.  Plus, my body sucks now and I'm sure I've grown dumber over time.  All the things that seem important to me are supposed to be folded up and put behind me, now, and I hate it.  I want to be reckless and always carry around my favorite stuffy on a bad day.
2. Monday, on the way home from the baggage store, my parents and I stopped at this mysterious waterfall... we got out of the car to look, and found ourselves on a dry riverbed.  It was one giant rock, with patches of water on it.  We followed the rock to a tall, thin waterfall with a cavern carved out beneath it, and people walking around and jumping into the deep-looking water below.  We followed the trail and paid to take a train around the park, showing us some old buildings and animals, a trail through some ridges, and the waterfall itself.  The park was almost closing by this time, so we made plans to come back and hike the trails later... my mother and I share a passion for hiking and waterfalls.
3.  You probably already know this, but waterfalls are literally my favorite place to be.  They're beautiful and elegant, serene and violent, full of life and wonder and they take my breath away.  Those, and snow, are some of the most beautiful things I know.
3. My parents and I managed to get lost in Birmingham on the way home from eating, on Tuesday.  We kept making turns and catching glimpses of highway, but having no way to get to it.  We wandered by some mountains, rich residential areas, and made some random-last minute decisions before finding ourselves right where we needed to be, out of the blue.  We saw some really beautiful parts of the city on the way... that's why I love being lost.
4. I think that there's no excuse for cheating on people.  It's unforgivable and weak.  I also think that people that cheat don't deserve a second glance, or a second chance.  And yet I've cheated on a person, with several weak excuses.  They don't deserve to be named, even though I always rush to defend myself with them, because whether they're in the air or not, there's still no excuse.  I do hate myself for it sometimes.  I don't know if I believe in redemption, but somebody did enough to give me a second chance, and I think that it's the most beautiful thing..
4. My parents and I had Olive Garden as my birthday dinner. I had something wonderful and fresh... and the Olive Garden people sang happy birthday and brought me a delicious cake.  The dinner was kind of quiet, though.  I think it was my fault.  I never know the right thing to say...:
5.  I wish that i were funny or interesting.  There are millions of times a day when I find myself avoiding eye contact or avoiding a phone call because I just freeze up and feel lame.  I don't even give myself a chance.
5. Dally played Mabinogi with me on Tuesday, and bought me some keys to open chests with.  I got this adorable panda bear robe to wear, so I guess that was a great present.  ^_^;
6.  I make things sound worse than they are.  Actually, I make them sound they way that they really seem to me, but how upset I am about them/ how immediately it needs to be dealt with is probably exaggerated, because I makes me feel infinitely better if I blow everything off in one giant storm.  ...I probably don't want "help" unless I'm asking for help, and when I do, it'll tremulous and shy, or loud and demanding. 
6. Wednesday, my parents and I went to Atlanta.  We had Korean barbeque BUFFET, at a place that let us gather our raw meat and sit at a table with a grill in the middle, and we watched it all cook right in front of us, just like the restaurants in Korea.  There were so many happy memories, while I was eating in that place... it felt much more like a birthday celebration than Olive Garden did, and it was much better. And much cheaper.
7.  I get very demanding and easily upset with people that I expect a lot from.  And I'm selfish, and mean, and spoiled, and I like to be the one breaking hearts or making people laugh.  Because I'm insecure.  And I feel like I don't matter at all if I don't matter the most.  But... I like that about myself, so I don't think that I want to change.  I guess that makes me prideful, too.  But... I really think that I'm worth the pain it takes to know me. :
7. Korean stores.  We tracked down all of the major ones in Atlanta and visited them all, buying things like plum candies, pocky, fish cakes, red-bean walnut pastries, vanilla pastries, teumsae ramen, and all of the childhood snacks and things that made me reminisce about Korea.  I could tell that my mother was caught up in it the same way that I was, since we both become more lively than either of us were for the rest of the week.
8. Everlong is still my favorite song.  How many years has it been now?  I feel like my life just falls in line with it, though.  But if you want my "playlist", I can write it out for you, and guarantee that it won't be changing soon: Everlong, Suspension, Spin, Give me a Sign, Hurricane, 1000 Oceans, Chasing Cars (live), Tongue Tied, Secret Crowds, Black Balloon.  I'm pretty sure that, as of right now, those songs tell a pretty good story of me.
8. I started talking to Jonachi again this weekend, randomly.  And he's even playing a game with me again.  Friendship is a gift, and once upon a time, we were really close...  I know that I randomly try to rekindle friends often, so I won't say that I've got high hopes, but I'm glad for this pocket of our lives crossing again.  He was a good friend.  ^_^;  And he's still a good friend.

I love you.

Seeing Kalinesti around my birthday was put to a very forceful stop by my clinical rotation, though.  And that was going to be the best part. 

Regardless, my week-early birthday was really sweet.  It was such a gloomy day with all the rain and clouds that Birmingham constantly wears these days-- which I love, usually, since storms are really beautiful, but I'd just finished a reaaaaally long weekend of clinical work and long, tedious classes, so I was feeling pretty hateful about everything... and Jake decides to take me out for my Birthday right then.  So here's what he did for me: took me to have my favorite broccoli and cheddar soup with a chipotle chicken sandwich at Panera, then took me to the mall to splurge on vanilla birthday cake scented philosophy (if you don't know what it is, it's 3-in-1 shampoo, body wash, and bubble bath, and it's one of my favorite things) and lipgloss.  And then more lipgloss, since it's practically my drug.  And we wandered the rest of the mall, acquiring some Harvest Moon (*heart*) on the way.  When we'd worn ourselves out with window shopping and holding hands, we went to Wal*Mart for one last childish conquest- Pokemon.  Loooots of Pokemon.  And then we stayed up really late playing with them.  It was a great night: intimate, sweet, pretty geeky and relaxing, and full of smiles and laughs.  It was only missing some balloons and a cake... which is all easily remedied.  I still have a week.  A trudging, school & clinical- filled week.  I'll make the best of it. 

I have a goal to reach by next summer: to have a good enough GPA to make it into even higher learning, so that what I'm dealing with at clinicals now isn't my fate forever... and so that I can make enough of a living to support more than a tiny apartment household.  Oh.  And to be planning a much more exciting, balloon-filled birthday.

Thank you, Jakey, for giving me the best that could have possibly happened under such dismal school-oriented circumstances.  You're the shining star in everything I do.

I love you, Dally!  :3.  We'll try again for winter celebrations.  And we'll make it.