I’m tired of this rut I feel like I’m in. I’m trying as hard as I can to do better for myself and it all just seems so overwhelming at times. The same old same old. I hate complaining, and I’m thankful I can support myself and live on my own, but I want more in life tho! I want more than this shit hole apartment, I want more than eating peanut butter and pasta for months straight. I don’t want to work at a pretzel stand any longer than I really honestly have too. I don’t even know if I want to stay in Tampa much longer. This will always be home and I love it here but I need a change of scenery. At the same time I can’t leave just because my mom is not well and I already feel like I’m far away enough from her now even tho I’m only an hour away. I have my priorities in place, and I’m moving forward one baby step at a time. I’m just being impatient and it seems like for every 2 steps forward I take, I get thrown back 5. I refuse to give up tho, I refuse to ever be okay with these living arrangements. I refuse to ever stop trying to be a better person and do better for myself. Life is a learning experience until the day you die.
Oh sweet child of mine, come over and I’ll strangle you helpless like your papa charles manson.
So Friday started out with a party for the one and only Corey Nabors. It was awesome, until I drank a bottle and a half of Jim Beam, fell and smashed my head on my night stand. Woke up with alcohol poisoning and tried to go to work. By the time I got to work I could barely stand and spent most of the time throwing up. I left work at 4 and finally, after falling and throwing up the whole way, I made it to my apartment. I woke up around 6 and tried to get up and couldn’t stand. I was vomiting bile and couldn’t even keep any water down. By 8 my heart was racing, I still couldn’t walk, I was having cold sweats and I couldn’t see. By 9 I knew I needed help, so I called my dad and he came right over, and brought over some medicine and he literally stayed with me for 4 hours while I drank what he brought in the pitch dark of my apartment. I can’t imagine a better father than the one I have. I was finally able to walk a little better and made it to my bed. I woke up today feeling alot better. So I do my normal routine and go to work. My parents always visit me on Sunday’s, and when they came today they said something that really hit me hard. They said “We’re glad we’re getting pretzels from you and not funeral arrangements today.” That moment when my parents told me that, it hurt me more than the whole day prior. I looked up and realized, it could of been the latter of the two. I can’t keep fucking up, I have to grow up. I have too much going for me right now. I’m the happiest now I’ve been in years. I can’t keep slowly killing myself like I have been. I have my parents to take care of when they can’t anymore. I have so much of my life I still want to live.
Just got back from church. Life is good. Jesus helps me through the day.