How's your summer? Mine's mostly uneventful, but there are some pretty cool things.
I'm working at a real job, and I'm enjoying it. I realized in high school how being a volunteer page hit a number of marks on my strengths and enjoyments list, so I've ever since wanted to be a library page and a writer. I don't want to go a step up to be a librarian or anything. Just a page on the side of writing to get by. It's perfect. I have my dream jobs. I never thought I'd get here, but it's only begun.
They like me so far, but I'm still working hard to make sure I'm doing the right things and to memorize as much as I can. I've always had sort of a memory problem, but I've always been sensitive to being loyal and trusted. I don't like the burning embarrassment and the feeling that I have a lesser mind than others, so over the years I've been working on fighting past my auditory processing disorder, ADHD, post-traumatic stress disorder, and panic-anxiety disorder. I'm slowly improving. I have a much better memory and can understand speech better than when I was 9, I barely have any ADHD left (no medication involved), I'm gaining confidence in my decision-making, and I have fewer panic/anxiety attacks (when in conversation, at least. Not cars.).
If you still envy me while reading this, with that jealous hatred some people get because they feel that they deserve to have everything they want or feel that they never get anything they want, consider all that I've gone through to get here: My entire childhood I lived my life in fear. Abuse of all sorts, screaming from the inside, crying so many times my tears turned into silent numbness, wishing for peace in my life. Although I can't say my life isn't still a roller coaster, at least I'm finally getting some peace. I'm still on the edge of my seat, though. If you had met me when I was 9 or 12, you would think that girl's dead by now. You wouldn't believe that she's me.
I was terrible at writing. I spelled "pretty" like "pritty". I couldn't write in paragraphs. I was (and still am) mentally disabled in math. I had no talents. No dreams. No hope in life. I was luggage in everybody's eyes. If you told me something, I'd disassociate or forget most or all of what you said. Everything had to be simple.
All I had was a heart that felt. A soft child's heart that hurt even when you accidentally poked it. I didn't look like it, but I felt everything around me, and I still feel.
Things that happened or about to happen, I felt it. I felt afraid before I was in danger. Intuition still is a part of me, and sometimes I wish it would leave me, but I depend on it like the one friend that stuck by me the whole time I've been alive. Maybe it will leave me when I die, so I don't feel afraid of the end. Just say, "Okay, so here's the one fork in the road where I must leave you. Don't feel afraid, little one. You won't need me from now on. No more fear."
Um, so I made this a bit personal. That's okay, I guess. Gives you something to read, right? Ha ha
Enjoy your summer.
Words Written (Difference Words Date Time Day
Each Time from Last) Stopped
_________________________________________________________________
1,661 (-245) 26,440 1 10:05 PM 12
2,120 (+459) 28,560 5 12:44 AM 13
293 (-1,827) 28,853 [5] 7:35 PM [13]
1,044 (+751) 29,897 7 1:00 AM 14
2,296 (+1,252) 32,193 11 1:49 AM 15
145 (-2,151) 32,338 13 8:30? PM 16
1,537 (+1,392) 33,875 15 12:36 AM 17
2,309 (+772) 36,184 16 8:04 PM 18
345 (-1,964) 36,529 20 12:16 AM 19
1,153 (+808) 37,682 22 12:10 AM 20
2,610 (+1,457) 40,292 23 11:59 PM 21
285 (-2,325) 40,577 24 12:49 AM 22
2,346 (+2,061) 42,923 [24] 10:06 PM [22]
2,428 (+82) 45,351 30 1:01 AM* 23
240 (-2,188) 45,591 31 1:34 AM 24
...Ugh. I'm beginning to realize that having a job and being hooked on the internet is keeping me from writing much. I think I'll take a little break from the internet (Ha! Like that's going to happen!). Well, I might spend a little time, at least. (<And that's where it could easily go wrong!) Oh well. You can't be two people at once.
Uh oh. I'm getting into a bad habit of writing too late at night again! Help! :-( I don't function perfectly at 6 or 7 hours of sleep, but I'm just so frustrated I can't be up all night. (A good thing for keeping a job and having an actual social life, but bad to writing. I just have to get used to having both and balance my time better. I'll feel much better and have a control over this once I learn to control these two rivaling internal clocks.)
