Jumbled Thoughts

It’s the second month of summer and I’m definitely freaking out. All these questions are rudely running around in my head and forcibly smacking into the walls of my mind. How are you paying for college, Faithe? Why aren’t you taking your online classes? What exactly do you plan on achieving in life? How are you going to get there if you can’t even find a way to pay for school? Why can’t you be a better person?

And then there goes the home run:

You know, Faithe, if you can’t get you’re life together I’ve heard the military is very inviting.

And that’s not even a question. But it is a thought I’d like to avoid…

Whenever I’m back home, here, by myself, it seems that I’m always faced with the possibility of imminent failure. “What if…?”‘s and “Why can’t you…?”‘s are always coming around to greet me, old friends reinserting themselves in my life after having been absent for so long.

And what AM I going to do? With school and money and everything? Every night I ask God for answers. Every night He listens but never responds or rather I just can’t hear Him. Occasionally, I feel as if He’s already told me and He’s just sitting in the corner, all-knowing like, staring at me, waiting for me to get a clue. On those nights I feel really stupid. On those nights I almost feel more alone.


I have a theory that these people that I know here, my friends in this desert I grew up in, won’t matter after college. Possibly they won’t matter even sooner. I’m thinking that maybe I’m just not meant to have that kind of best friend relationship I’ve always wanted. And I’m thinking I think I’m cool with that. Trying to keep people around is serious work especially when it seems like all you’re doing is shifting apart. I’ve tried to be that person that people want to be around that they call just to talk to but I’m just not. I’m me. Nothing more, nothing less and I’m starting to realize for the first time in my life that that’s just fine. Superb even. I’m quite fond of me. Maybe too fond.

It’s odd to say, but I think I talk to myself a lot. In time of frustration (usually any trip back home) I tend to consult myself as if I were a smarter person. I think it might be an emotional issue. You know how they say you can’t be crazy if you consider yourself to be crazy because crazies don’t know how crazy they actually are? Well, if that’s the case I’m not crazy at all because I’ve contemplated my own craziness to the point of exhaustion. I’m even a bit tired of saying crazy… I think it might just be a result of being lonely for such a long time.

This summer has been an interesting one. I’m meeting my family for the first real time. Even though I’ve lived with these people all my life I’ve never actually known them. Our family dynamic was so bad for so long that I created my own little bubble in order to hide from them. I hid my feelings and my love and grew up apart from them. My siblings have always been strangers to me, my parents enemies of war and now, after 10 years of being isolated from them despite living in the same house, they’ve somehow transformed into people. This is why I so often contemplate the extent of my maybe nonexistent crazy.

I’ve diverted from the question. As I always do when a question seems too difficult to answer. What am I going to do about school? For the last days I’ve done nothing but send in applications for scholarships. It seemed such a random thought when I thought it up and yet so practical that it could have only been God pushing me in the right direction. I can only pray. I’ve got some business ideas. Things to sell. And all of it combined must be part of some greater plan, something big that I’m missing. I can wait. I’ve waited all my life for a number of things. I’ve waited all my life not to be crazy. I can wait for this. I can work for this. Another goal to work toward. I’ve also been waiting for that.

Bring it on, summer.

Thank you, FG.


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