Summer.
Or late, late spring.
In any case, this time frame means some highly noticable things to me:
I stay home, with the family. No more homeostasis at campus or the library; no escape. I have a dog to walk, a horse to /not/ screw up, a house to clean, five relatives to clean up after, and five loads of laundry per day to wash, dry, and fold.
Keeping from slicing my flesh out of pure frustration? That doesn't count for anything in this house. Well... trying to keep bloodstain-free for a week isn't easy, it's purely maddening, yet I suppose people who have severe denial issues wouldn't understand. So, I shouldn't be torn up about it. Keeping from attempting suicide within a year? Hmm, it's halfway through the year, I guess I might be getting there. Of course, I could never tell them that; family or "friends". Then, I suppose anyone who was sold out to a mental institute by a person claiming to be a shoulder to cry on would be very untrusting to the world. Bothersome. Quite bothersome. Probably three more years and I'll have the money to up and leave-- and my partial house arrest will be over and done with. Until then, I'll be contemplating and simmering.
Contemplating and simmering.
Simmering, and contemplating.
Sadly I would do perfectly fine on my own; move to the next country over, begin my own private practice with large animals. All hell breaks loose with the prescence of anyone who has known my past actions. Hmph. People just don't get it through their jelly-like brains that kids are not adults, adults aren't kids, and whatever a kid does isn't fully the magnitude of whatever an adult does. People change. Especially if you've killed someone as a child, and progressed through adolescence with multiple suicide attempts. Perhaps I changed for worse over the years, but adulthood brings promise. If I could bottle my emotions from my 6-19 years of juvenile-ity, I could sell it to a Chinese nuclear plant for all the money the U.S owes.
Stuff packs a punch.
Hormones, effed up traumatic experiences, near death exp. Yeah, I'd be the next Bill Gates if I could sell all that for all the explosiveness it's worth.
