Back in Black

As a kid I would perpetually start journals or diaries, writing about the boys I liked, how my parents frustrated me so, my wishes and middle school thoughts. One diary I had actually named "Lacey." I had just learned about Anne Frank and her diary "Kitty" in school so I wanted to name my diary too...you know, in case some horrible atrocity happened to me and people were interested in what I thought about. I picked "Lacey" because that was the name of one of the older, more experienced girls at my gymnastics gym. I was just below making "team" and she was a Level bazillion...at least it seemed that way. Long story short, I idolized her, therefore named my diary after her. Talk about stalker!

And just about when I've successfully had a diary for about a month or two I'd forget about it. Tossed to the wind. Ignored and not to be looked at again for 6 months? A year? Three years? They always were interesting to go back and read. Well, I'm sad to say, I did it again with my blog...but I'm back fellow readers (all 2 of you). So look out!

LATELY....
I just moved back to St. Louis and so far it's not as great as I hoped. I knew what I was coming back to, but I think I had it in my mind that when I got here things would magically change and get better. If I believed everything would be ok, it's supposed to be ok! Instead, I'm living in a house where I see my mom's disease every day in her blotchy skin and toothpick legs. Instead, I sit in a freezing clinic with my cousin, my best friend, my other half as poison pushes its way through her veins for six hours a day. Instead, the one guy that was supposed to get me away from it all when it became unbearable is impossible and, quite frankly, never there when I needed him. Instead, I am waitressing again because the job market is so impossible--something I thought I'd left behind me years ago. Instead, I cross my fingers that ONE of my two friends won't be traveling to a wedding or busy so I have someone to hang out with.

Instead, I hate it.

I can't help but wonder if I made a huge mistake. I was living in FLORIDA for crying out loud, and I was making it on my own! I had job security, I had amazing friends, the guy was there when I needed him, and there was stuff to do! All of my friends went through there post-grad depression stage--moving home, trying to get a job, figuring yourself out--but I never did. I graduated then moved right away into an awesome town with my closest friends and a career. I went from one amazing part of my life to another. So now, I guess, it's my turn. I know I can't move back, I just got here. And I need to be with my family. If I had to go through one more family tragedy 15 hours away I don't think I would come out of it therapy-free. So be on the look out, I my be getting some things off my chest here. I can't say anything to the people here because they're all so happy I'm home. It will crush them to hear that I don't think it what it's cracked up to be.