Picking up the Pieces...

Upon coming home from Texas, I was faced with decisions that I had to make...

College or DTS at YWAM Minnesota? Should I find a job?

I was given about a week to decide.

So, I enrolled at the community college.

The classes were a great distraction for me. Psychology and Composition were my favorite classes.

My Psych teacher was a big black man (who I swear is gay) and was fascinating to listen to. He enjoyed using clips from The Simpsons and The Golden Girls as examples in his lectures.

As for my Comp teacher, she was an older woman who had an obsessive love for cats. Every day she wore a different cat sweater. Her teaching was full of apathy and dry humor. Sometimes, in between classes, we would sit outside and have a cigarette while discussing politics, religion, or literature. I loved the college atmosphere.

Though the first couple of weeks of being home were difficult, I managed to adjust. I was able to reconnect with friends who I had lost contact with because of my ex-boyfriend and soon realized that I was on a journey to self-discovery. I began to rekindle old interests and hobbies. I became passionate about truth and refused to live with my head in the clouds. I wanted to really experience life and soak up every moment.

I spent a lot of time hanging out with my friend, Atticus. We were complete opposites; he was reserved and serious while I was lively and spontaneous. I usually found myself dragging him along on my little adventures (it was for his own good, though). We spent the fall and winter drawing chalk art on buildings, climbing rooftops, watching quirky movies, taking long walks around town, and going to high school football games. Having that friendship with Atticus was a major blessing in my life during such a difficult time. If I hadn't had him around, I would probably be in a really different place right now. (Atticus, if you are reading, I frickin' love you!)

The week the fair came to Lawrence County, my parents left for the beach and I got the whole house to myself. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The high lights...

-No curfew
-The fantastic Ring of Fire ride at the fair
-Cotton candy
-Midnight shopping for taco ingredients
-Late night conversations with Atticus until 5 in the morning

It was probably the best week of the entire year of 2008.

The last few months of 2008 were, for the most part, spent getting high and writing music with my two good friends, Tyler and Shawnna. Atticus was against drugs and smoking, but it was still fun to hang out with him. However, I like to think the best way for me to sum up the end of that year would be like this...

Sunsets. Rooftops. Bright Eyes. Kings of Leon. Chalk art. Star gazing. Cuddling. Chinese food. Marijuana. Real. Vibrant. Colorful. Sneaking out. Modest Mouse. The Pixies. Cigarettes. Painting. Imagining. Tarot cards. Writing. Election year. Voting. Independence.

When New Year's came, I wanted to celebrate the end of the worst year of my life and the beginning of a new one that held so much hope for better things to come. So, I dressed in my best party clothes, got my hair done at my sister's salon, and went over to Atticus' house in hopes that he would take me to Florence, AL. However, I spent the New Year sitting in his living room while he played Rock Band 2. I hated him that night.

The last remaining months of winter and on into the early spring, my life seemed to settle down a lot. It wasn't as exciting as it had been during the fall. My motivation for school decreased and once Spring break came, I decided I wasn't going back to college. The only thing I felt like doing was spending my days stoned and playing guitar. I began partying as often as I could. Soon, drinking was more fun than getting high.

Honestly, I didn't care about myself anymore. I didn't care about school, I had no goals, and I had no interest in religion.

Eventually, my parents found out about the drugs and alcohol and decided that they were no longer going to support me financially. I depended on friends for gas money and to pay for my food when we went out to eat. When I needed new clothes or a tooth brush, I took up the habit of shoplifting.

However, after months of drinking and getting high, I began to feel my life had no meaning. I wasn't going anywhere and I wasn't doing anything to change or better the world.

My life had to change. And I knew it needed to be soon.