Ryan told me the source of my weird dream. It wasn’t a panic attack at all.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleep_paralysis

Symptoms:

“Hallucinations: Images or speaking that appear during the paralysis. The person may think that someone is standing beside them or they may hear strange sounds. (Lucy was beside my bed in the dream. God talked to me.) These may be dreamlike, possibly causing the person to think that they are still dreaming. Often it is reported as feeling a weight on one’s chest, as if being underneath a person or heavy object. (I felt like my whole chest was constricted and wrapped in a cocoon; I couldn’t move my whole upper body at all.)

These symptoms can last from mere seconds to several minutes (although they can feel like much longer) and can be frightening to the person. (Obviously I was pretty freaked out, since I went to Father Cavenaugh.)”

At least it wasn’t God.

But that means I’m alone. Truly alone; this is different than when I’ve felt lonely. What you said to me before, did you mean it? I think you did, but circumstances have changed. Now I’m not so sure. I sit and I think and I try to push every thought that comes into my mind away, because they only make me feel worse. I don’t think I’m succeeding.

I talked to Father Cavenaugh about my dream. He thinks I basically had a panic attack in my sleep and that my fears/anxieties were manifesting themselves as God being angry at me; he said that in his own experience, God has never presented himself as angry and it’s not a side of him that’s generally seen.

Maybe I should think about medication. I’m tired of being so damn anxious all the time.

My family and my grandma went to brunch for Mother’s Day. My dad got my mom an iPhone, so I was trying to explain all of the stuff she can do on it and how to work it. My grandma was scared of the technology, so she just pushed the phone back towards my mom and shook her head.

On the way home, I was in the backseat since Alan needed the extra leg-room in the front because of his knee. I was looking out the window and watching people in their cars. Most of them were what I’d assume to be husbands and wives, but maybe brothers and sisters, too. One man was by himself and kept trying to mess with his iPhone while driving, so he was swerving a bit. One girl, probably in her 20s, looked like Michelle from America’s Next Top Model; just gorgeous. Another lady was eating something and was using her foot to drive; it was repulsive. One father had his arm behind the seat next to him and was turned around to say something to his kid in the backseat. I basically sat there and listened to music while looking at all these people who had no clue I was watching them. I noticed a trend: when my dad sped up to pass someone, 99% of the time the person who he passed looked over towards his car and looked pissed.

I borrowed some of my mom’s jewelry to wear to brunch today; I ended up only wearing a necklace, but now I’ve put on the ring I was going to borrow as well. It’s a massive pearl, and it keeps catching my attention as I type.

I’m glad you’re happy. That’s the thing I want most.

It involved God and it scared me so bad that I went and talked to Father Cavenaugh; he’s the head chaplain at my school.

He told me to write it down and give it to him. I did, and we’ll discuss it tomorrow or Monday. I’m still scared. Goddamn, am I scared. I was almost in tears telling him about it.

Maybe I’m just being dumb, but I get the feeling that it’s more than that; it meant more than I think people realize if I talk about it.

i miss you i miss you i miss you. fuck fuck fuck.

i miss you, okay? that’s all i have to say.

My brother tore his ACL and a ligament on the side of his knee this weekend playing soccer. He had an MRI yesterday and he found out today that he’ll need two surgeries to fix things. He was hoping to start as Varsity soccer goalie in the fall…that’s not going to be happening anymore; I feel really bad for him.

I didn’t want to stay for all of volleyball practice last night, so I told our surrogate coach (an asshole with no life) that I needed to leave at 7 for…a doctors appointment. Obviously I’m not the brightest crayon in the box; who the fuck has a doctor’s appointment at 7:30 at night? He totally knew, but whatever. I was 3 seconds away from quitting when he yelled at me for setting the ball to Alex to hit when she was the ONLY fucking person that called it. Too bad that I play with a bunch of dumb fucks who can’t tell the difference between a volleyball and a soccer ball.

I went to sleep at 10 last night and I’m still fucking exhausted. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want drugs.

I don’t know how many more days I can make it through school. I’m exhausted, lethargic, listless and restless all at the same time. I have no idea how I’m making it through my classes right now, I really don’t. I’m running on a total of 3 hours of sleep this week so far.

That marks the end of a period where I’ll talk about myself. I’m totally over and done with it as of right now.

Things have a way of walking off when you need to find them. I have volleyball practice in a little over an hour, and I only have one kneepad. I’ve checked everywhere, in my laundry hamper, sports bag, under my bed, and all the other random places that I think it might be and it still eludes me. I should attach one of those keyfinders to it, except that’d be kind of awkward when I’m running around.

I found some soothing sound cds, the kind that have thunder and rain or water trickling on them that are supposed to help people sleep. They’re so damn relaxing, but then I don’t want to fall asleep because I like listening to them. Not that I can fall asleep anyway, but that’s beside the point.

My prom dress is still hanging on my bookshelf because I like the color and because I’m too lazy to put it away. It adds to the messy effect that my room has right now; I’ve been too apathetic to even pick my clothes up off the floor. My mom hates it, but I don’t mind…yet. One day I know I’ll flip and go on a huge cleaning streak and then feel really satisfied, but until then, I’m content to just let the clothes decorate my floor.

We had Lucy put down yesterday. She was doing better, but I was home alone yesterday and she basically had a seizure. Her whole body was shaking, she was yelping whenever she tried to move, and she was short of breath. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, and she was in so much pain. The heavy drugs she was on weren’t working. When my parents came home, they took her to the vet to be put to sleep; when she saw she was going to get to go for a ride in the car, she became a different dog. She started acting really excited, moving better, and her whole attitude changed. It killed me to see it. Earlier this week, my mom made an appointment to have her put down, but when Lucy acted like that when she got to go for a ride in the car, my mom took her to the vet and couldn’t go through with it, and brought her home. Lucy didn’t come home this time, though.

Chewy’s wandering around acting really lost and confused. She doesn’t know why her buddy isn’t here. I’m going to take her to work with me today to get her out of the house.

i’m so…blocked.

i can’t write. i can’t type. i can’t emote. i can’t blink at a normal speed. i can’t decide what i’m doing right now. i can’t fix the pain in my arm from the edge of the keyboard digging into it. i can’t cry. i can’t wish tonight since i missed 11:11. i can’t unclench my jaw. i can’t believe ap’s are next week. i can’t make my brain work right. i can’t stop shivering. i can’t make this headache go away. i can’t think of a way to end this post.