Unblurring My Undergrad
Back in school there were great moments of discovering Alan Ginsberg, reading Marx, visiting the Keys, learning about the mental health struggles of Zelda Fitzgerald, being part of Winter with the Writers, passing a chemistry and stat class.
It was rebuilt. I had roommates. There were two. we got a tree for Christmas. We had friends over. One met her future husband, watched Friends, talked about how tiring the teaching was. The other went on dates with nice Christian guys (the ones that never seemed to show any interest in me, but who I think I was supposed to like), read good books, planned a non-tv-centric living room. We visited Coral Gables. I was working, trying to finish college. We did the South Beach diet together.
I was doing the diet and also running a lot. I've been a runner since I graduated high school. I never went far or fast, but I always go back to it. Well, I was running farther and more frequently. I was stressed with school I guess. I started developing feelings for a guy at work. He was a manager, he kissed me, he had a girlfriend. This was upsetting, confusing, exciting. I didn't know what to do. I became obsessed with Starbucks. I visited a store and poured coffee on the ground. Someone called the cops and an ambulance. They asked me to get in the ambulance and I shut my eyes really really tight. I was getting baker acted. The nightmare was returning.
Oddly enough I was two blocks from the Jack Kerouac house.
Back in the hospital I was hit hard with medication. I tried to go back to my life, but my roommates had decided I was too psycho. My parents told them I needed to live at home. They never let me sleep another night in that apartment where we bought the small Christmas tree. I was doomed to live at home. Still resisting the situation I wanted to return to work. I wasn't allowed to. I went to church and saw the roommate wearing my clothes. She kicked me out and she was wearing my clothes.
I was sent back to my parent's house without my things. Then, that same roommate came to the house and literally fought me to grab my car keys out of my hands. Leaving me with my parents who did not trust at all for my care. I was powerless. I felt like I wanted to die. I wasn't going to take any steps, but I was detaching. I had tried to attend some classes but it was hard, hard to pay attention. Then I told a friend what items I would want which friends to have if I died. I basically wrote a will. The reason was because someone in the hospital said I should, but I couldn't explain that to the friend. He wouldn't understand anyway. He just told me he was scared.
I got a hotel room because I could not stay at my parents. I hated being there. I did not know where else to go. I had been kicked out so I figured I needed to pay to sleep somewhere. I stayed at a hotel. I watched the news. I laid in bed there terrified that I had no place to go, could not keep a job, would be stuck back at home. I had my homework still with me. I just wanted to concentrate. The news had stories about Darfur. The world just seemed to terrifying and terrible. I baker acted myself.
Another bout in the hospital. Then around that time another hotel, then hospital. I think there were at least 3 stays this run, until I just gave up trying to escape and survive and surrendered to being a depressed lump of existence at my parents. There I tried to survive nightmares.
It was rebuilt. I had roommates. There were two. we got a tree for Christmas. We had friends over. One met her future husband, watched Friends, talked about how tiring the teaching was. The other went on dates with nice Christian guys (the ones that never seemed to show any interest in me, but who I think I was supposed to like), read good books, planned a non-tv-centric living room. We visited Coral Gables. I was working, trying to finish college. We did the South Beach diet together.
I was doing the diet and also running a lot. I've been a runner since I graduated high school. I never went far or fast, but I always go back to it. Well, I was running farther and more frequently. I was stressed with school I guess. I started developing feelings for a guy at work. He was a manager, he kissed me, he had a girlfriend. This was upsetting, confusing, exciting. I didn't know what to do. I became obsessed with Starbucks. I visited a store and poured coffee on the ground. Someone called the cops and an ambulance. They asked me to get in the ambulance and I shut my eyes really really tight. I was getting baker acted. The nightmare was returning.
Oddly enough I was two blocks from the Jack Kerouac house.
Back in the hospital I was hit hard with medication. I tried to go back to my life, but my roommates had decided I was too psycho. My parents told them I needed to live at home. They never let me sleep another night in that apartment where we bought the small Christmas tree. I was doomed to live at home. Still resisting the situation I wanted to return to work. I wasn't allowed to. I went to church and saw the roommate wearing my clothes. She kicked me out and she was wearing my clothes.
I was sent back to my parent's house without my things. Then, that same roommate came to the house and literally fought me to grab my car keys out of my hands. Leaving me with my parents who did not trust at all for my care. I was powerless. I felt like I wanted to die. I wasn't going to take any steps, but I was detaching. I had tried to attend some classes but it was hard, hard to pay attention. Then I told a friend what items I would want which friends to have if I died. I basically wrote a will. The reason was because someone in the hospital said I should, but I couldn't explain that to the friend. He wouldn't understand anyway. He just told me he was scared.
I got a hotel room because I could not stay at my parents. I hated being there. I did not know where else to go. I had been kicked out so I figured I needed to pay to sleep somewhere. I stayed at a hotel. I watched the news. I laid in bed there terrified that I had no place to go, could not keep a job, would be stuck back at home. I had my homework still with me. I just wanted to concentrate. The news had stories about Darfur. The world just seemed to terrifying and terrible. I baker acted myself.
Another bout in the hospital. Then around that time another hotel, then hospital. I think there were at least 3 stays this run, until I just gave up trying to escape and survive and surrendered to being a depressed lump of existence at my parents. There I tried to survive nightmares.
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