Another year has come and gone, and yet…
… I remain the same…
I definitely feel 80-90% better today.
Woohoo for getting past the pneumonia and on with my life!
Tomorrow, I turn 24. It seems like this birthday really snuck up on. I suppose it could simply be that there isn’t a whole lot of difference between 23 and 24. I’m not crossing any magical barriar or some arbitrary threshold. I am getting nothing from this birthday (except, of course, gifts and well wishers). Another year of my life has slipped past, and I find myself quite apathetic.
In the last year, I have:
* made a Christmas wonderland for my husband’s return (last year)
* visited my grandmother’s grave, and my first hometown
* moved back to San Marcos
* watched my baby sister graduate from college
* started going to the gym REGULARLY
* started back to school
Is it just me, or does that list seem rather… short?
I suppose, objectively, it might seem like a lot (I don’t know, as I am not objective)… but it doesn’t feel like a lot. It doesn’t feel like nearly enough.
Maybe it doesn’t seem like much because I (the core of me, as a person) haven’t grown much. Have I grown? Is there a way to tell? Where is the yard stick for emotional/spiritual/mental growth?
I just read an entry from this time last year. Jesus, I’m still the same.
Leila isn’t coming to my birthday dinner tomorrow. She has had excuse after excuse to avoid me lately. I don’t think it’s anything I’ve done… the holidays are approaching, and this is Leila’s classic (and historic) time for loosing her mind. A few years back, she started doing drugs and landed in jail — Christmas time. A few years before that, she took off overseas, leaving all her troubles for her friends and family to deal with. It seems like she always goes nuts right around this time. And she hasn’t had a big "episode" in two years… I suppose we’re due. I half expect a call tomorrow that Leila has done something… or something has happened… And I’m still here…
It’s harder than you might think, having a sociopath (clinically) as a best friend. She cares about me in so much as it effects her. If my life were to fall apart, Leila would care only if it affected my ability to be there for her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a hell of a lot of fun, when she wants to be. But "being there" isn’t something Leila understands.
It doens’t matter much, I suppose. At least this year, I can be certain that I won’t have to wrangle her and my mom.
Good grief, I’m exhausted. And I suppose there isn’t a whole lot left for me to say. I was going to write more about who I feel like I am now (so that next year, I will be able to see if I’ve changed)… but I find that after spending even a few moments thinking about my friendship with Leila, and the various… obsticles… we’ve encountered as friends, I am extremely tired. And a little sad.
I will try to write tomorrow, after my birthday dinner. I will try to have pictures by the end of the month. I refuse to promise anything… 
Ok, I’m really done now.
Ciao!