for the past month or so, pretty much every morning i have woken up in the middle of what feels like a heart attack. at 6 am. no matter what time i go to bed.
my pulse races; i spend about a minute slowing my breath down; i toss and turn, staring at the dark sky and the bright moon outside my window, thinking that i’ll fall back to sleep in just a minute.
i don’t.

i had a gigantic fight with someone a while ago, as i mentioned. what happened afterwards made me feel like i was an acorn, being shaken from a tree after a storm. i was tossed straight to the basic ground of my issues – the ones that i really need to resolve.

i burned through the rest of the fog i was feeling in a hurry, though. i don’t know what the space is called where i landed, but it’s a lot more clear.
i see now that i’ll need to explain.

this fight had a lot to do with my depression, on both sides. on mine, i can’t keep things in perspective very well at times. on my friend’s, he’d been feeling attacked. this is something i’ve heard from different people, at times in my life, which is why i paused and tried to consider the situation, truly, from his end of things, rather than keep going with the whole, “he lied to me, my feelings are hurt” part of the misconception i was originally running with.

i think in a lot of ways, because i try and nurture very close, familial-type friendships, that i can take them for granted and act somewhat disrespectfully to them when i’m feeling strange, because i think they’ll “have to love me through whatever”, when there is really never that kind of guarantee.

so, thump. the person i felt closest to in the world was saying he didn’t want to be treated the way i was treating him anymore, and that made me face a few things, namely:
we are all on this journey, ultimately, alone. i can only answer to myself. i have to have a healthy relationship with myself. what am i waiting for?

i started worrying about money. and where i was going to live. and school – how my depression has affected my grades and hopes for grad school. and my job, which doesn’t pay enough or give me enough hours or really appreciate me enough.

i kicked around the idea of moving to peterborough, to be closer to my sister.

i kicked around the idea of a lot of things.

what became clear to me is me. i realized that i want to become a writer – train more to be a better one. this means masters. i don’t know where yet….a master of fine arts is not offered here, and is more writing-intensive, but has less job opportunities; a masters is more academic. regardless, even though my grades are going to be okay, (mostly a’s and b’s), i need to make a bigger impression on teachers in order to have references for grad school applications, which will have to be deferred until next year.

so. even though i have enough credits to graduate, i just enrolled in another year of undergrad courses, to a) raise my g.p.a, and b) get references.
i’m going to say “f*** you” to working, apply for a loan, and do school. i’m going to move apartments.

i realized that even though i feel that what i’ve been through was definitely necessary, that i need to refocus. i’ll be 30 this year, and i want to be as good at life as i know i can be….i’m meant to be a writer, i’ve got to dedicate myself to that, and not get slowed down by anyone, or anything….