*...a purposeful life...

October. It's been a really long month.


I am glad, in a sense that October is over. It's been a long month and I wished it was over before it even began. I get this feeling that someone else - not me - is living my life, staying in my space, breathing my air. That someone else is living my life, not me.

I take hours to make even the simplest decisions like where to go to buy something, when should I run some errands... In all the years that you've known me, I guess I've never been like this before. Even in my 'pre-quarter-life crisis' - it was bad, but not as bad as this. Although I am still hopeful for the future, our future, the future of my cell and my career and my life, I don't know where I'm headed. I've never been one to look back. But I can't help being enveloped in the memories that are still, too raw. I am upset, because it is beyond my comprehension what has been said to me. I am angry, too...I have never been an angry person, but now I fear that I can never get rid of the anger within. I feel scared everyday, when months ago, throughout my entire life, I have never been scared of anything, save the occassional wasp flying by. I feel scared by the slightest thing. I feel scared sleeping. I feel scared waking up and facing each day, not knowing if the day would be 'good', or not. And then I feel scared making the decisions I have to make each day. What time to go to work. Who to call. Where to go. WHY? I cry out, sometimes in tears, sometimes wordless, about my situation. I am not thinking too much. I cannot help feeling sad - and worse, feeling sad for no reason. Or perhaps only my subconcious knows the reason, and I cannot express it by words anyhow. People try to help me in well-meaning but useless ways. "Snap out of it... stop thinking about it." But they can't help me, and I can't help myself either. And I just get worse and worse, reading and rereading what has been worded to me. Where a friendship is supposed to be a place of support, now there is only angry words and tears. I know my actions must have hurt, but I thought we were strong. I didn't expect this outcome. I didn't expect to be so emotionally affected that now I fear I will never be the same again. A part of me has died. And I wander aimlessly, from place to place, looking at them in shades of gray, because to me now, every scene is tinged with sadness, every sunset a memory of what has passed. There is a part of everyone that is sentimental, and wants to hold on to nice memories, because without such nice things in life to cherish, life becomes impossible to live.