Going through old journals isn’t for the weak.
As I’ve said many times over, I am transporting my digital DTS journal into a physical copy. That obviously requires me to read it.
Recently, I’ve been stuck on February 19th and 20th. The first day was a stupid fight between Trevor and I, that was over next to nothing, and yet at the same time, we’d never fought before, not like that. And usually when people fight with me like that, it ends in never speaking to each other again. I got all of the raw emotions from that night to slap me in the face. The following day was the reconciliation. To make matters worse, I must have been in a poetic mood that night, because that particular journal entry is pure art.
“I grabbed the olive branch that I had chosen to ignore yesterday, and apologized for the whole lot of it.”
That wasn’t exactly what I opened this app to talk about though. contrary to (un)popular belief, Trevor isn’t the reason I write.
I am. *insert evil laugh here*
Apparently at the end of that night, as part of the olive branch grabbing, Trevor and I talked a bit, and the topics that were discussed and that I wrote down are rather interesting.
~brooks and i will fall out for months at a time, then pop back into each others lives. “Thats a good friend. You need to keep him around.”~ That turned out entirely different than I expected. We had a massive fight when I got back to Kansas, and this ended predictably. With us never really talking to each other again. And now, there is no reason to try; he’s moving to Wyoming in a few weeks, and never coming back. I will likely not see him again on this side of heaven. I don’t feel any sort of way about this. It just is.
~“this is more my home than Abilene is. But it isnt right. I think im doomed to be a wanderer.” How romantic of you. You’ll find a home someday. “Maybe.”~ Both lives appeal to me in different ways. The Wanderer presents adventure, and seeing and experiencing the cool and less cool things that Earth has to offer. But goodbye’s are the bane of my existence, and a nomadic way of life is nothing if not a prolonged goodbye to everything all at once. Home. With the right people, Home is appealing. More appealing than even the Wanderer. I don’t have the right people yet. Maybe I’ll get there. Maybe I can find a way to live both.
~Do you want kids? “I used to say no. I dont know.” If emetophobia wasnt an issue? “I. Yeah. Yeah I would” (i realized that. It shocked me.) “but i dont think I’ll be a good mother either.” You will be. “Maybe.”~ WOW does the concept of motherhood terrify me. (As I am 19, that may be a reasonable fear. I unfortunately know many people younger than me with kids) Emetophobia definitely plays into that. I can’t deal with anyone being sick, not anyone in my family. I not only get scared, I get flat out mean. I don’t want to traumatize any kids I have because of a phobia that I never found a way to deal with. The other thing is, I do not know what I’m doing. It took me 16 years to realize that my mother was a human too, she was my age once, and she didn’t just magically know what to do. I have very few things that I am comfortable doing independently. I don’t know how to parent. I had a long talk about this with a friend at camp. I don’t want to raise my kids to have a testimony like mine “grew up in a Christian home, knew the Bible and stuff, but didn’t apply it until 12, 16, 21, etc.” while at camp, I saw a 4 year old get baptized. He didn’t want to do it, screamed all the way down and all the way back up. People clapped and cheered like he had made that decision for himself. I don’t want to make my children follow God to make me happy. I want them to understand that it’s a relationship, not church and Bible study. I don’t want them to wait 17 years to find that out. I also don’t want to pass on whatever is wrong with me. My mental stuff is genetic; just look at my relatives. I’m just the only one who doesn’t act like the constant burning is normal. I don’t want any son or daughter of mine to wake up and wish that they hadn’t.
I wanted to go to STS. NOT for Trevor, though he was the one who mentioned it in the first place. I guess my mind was so “you’ll be back on this date” that it never occurred to me that I could go back earlier. So I prayed about it, got parental consent (not that I really need it), and even asked Dan if it was too late to apply.
God said no.
God said that instead of going to a place to learn more about His Word, I have to stay here and at best, plateau spiritually.
It might be because my priorities (right as they would be right now if I signed up; I REALLY need some Bible studying seminars right about now) would shift upon returning to that place and those people (person..?). Maybe there’s still something in Kansas for me. Maybe I simply need to spend what little time I have left with my family. Or I need to earn money.
Whatever it may be, I’m pretty salty about it. I’d much rather be there.
Two months.
Soundtrack: Let down (Radiohead). Something from the Tron soundtrack. Let down but a cool choir version I found. Adeline (Tom Siletto). Franklin house (Brenn)
Rainy Ramblings 