My Habeas Corpus

The events that happened the week it all started make me sick every time I recall them, but I keep replaying them. In about 4 days these things happened. So here they are: Day 1: I return to camp. Heartsick that I have no where to go once camp is over. I am trying to understand that my family is not there for me. I don't know how I will pay for anything. I don't know what work I will do. I am letting go of the idea of college, but passing up on education for emotional distress is confusing. I keep weighing the choices. At camp, I get back into running. I've never been a hard runner and I was doing 6 miles a day. I was eating less, because the guy I liked had introduced me to the diet he used to train soccer players. I was in the best shape of my life. I felt beautiful and broken. I'd stood up to my mom. There was some freedom, even if the consequences were unbearable. Day 2: In the morning we do swim tests and I receive my lifeguard certification. Later, we have a b...

I've said it, thought it so many times. It all started over a fight about sweeping the floor. The destruction of my life, my mind, the havoc that would follow began with an argument about sweeping. A simple house chore, right? Clearly not something that would warrant the extreme reaction that would follow. But it is the truth. It is the catalyst for my fall from grace, or whatever position I had made it to at the age of twenty. Let me provide some context. I'm twenty, home for the summer after my sophomore year of college. It's that sweet spot where you transition from the new student to finally one who knows there people and can move more smoothly into who they are becoming. I'm an English and Philosophy Double Major and former high school valedictorian. The week before I leave school for home, I go hiking with friends. We climb to a summit on the side of Lookout Mountain. We can see the great blanket in front of it that is Chattanooga, but might as well be the the wo...