Realization.

So I turned twenty-one. It still seems surreal. And it isn't the fact that I can now legally drink...I think it is that I waited so long to be able to say "I'm heading to the bar" simply because all of my friends are older and have been able to do that for a while now. All in all, I feel like I'm getting old and growing up and that my age does not correspond with my maturity level.

I feel like I have this huge responsibility now, and I don't know why. That is just how I'm feeling...all of this extra weight on my shoulders. Maybe it is because I'm another year older. Maybe it's because I have a lot on my plate. Or maybe it's just because I'm happy most of the time with a blurred edge of sadness and I can't seem to shake it. Who knows.

All I know is to write what I know. I know that it feels like I've been in college for months and months rather than just four weeks. I know that so much has happened in so little time, and I am constantly surprised by the sharp turns my life takes. I know that I am making friends and losing friends. I know that, for the most part, I hover on the line of confusion and clarity. I know that I cannot wait to get out of here on an airplane and go to a remote part of Italy and chill for five months. These are things I know.

I can't really write what I don't know because it would probably look something like this:

gewiohgioewjgyrhieyopwjhyeiopwiopy LIFE ghrioheriowujyeiowyhetiwtewhtieow IS gbrweuioghetioqhetgioqhtewohtoewCRAAZYgewophgoewgwenoweyjotepwtjeowtnmewopjhtewn

So, as you can see, my thoughts are all over the place, and it is probably better that I write what I know. I like using my words to express thoughts and feelings, but sometimes, things are better left unsaid and I wish that my heart would listen to my brain sometimes when it says, "Jazmine, I know you feel a certain way, but you got to shut the fuck up." Probably would make life just that much easier.

Really, I love the fact that not many people read this blog. One of my professors asked me what I write about. Is there supposed to be a theme? I just get on here and I think, "Hm, what is pissing me off today?" and I run with it. Isn't that better than forcing yourself to write about something you know you or anyone else doesn't care about? I sure as hell think so.

My family is visiting on Saturday, and I couldn't be more thrilled. After getting a concussion and spending four hours in the emergency room, I surely could use a mom hug. Which really are the best hugs. Moms can make everything feel better, even when you know that nothing is all right. A mom sort of softens the blow, makes you forget for a while how messed up everything is.

I wonder if anyone else does what I do. Sometimes, I will look at a person and think about if they are actually happy or if they are pretending. I know people can't tell the difference when I do, so I wonder if I can even tell.


I love tangents. My blog posts? One big tangent. You're welcome.

A long pause.

Sometimes, it take me a while to write these blog posts. I don't know why. I could start one and have it just sitting on my computer screen for weeks, and I'll come back to it and think, What was I trying to do here? Other times, I will sit looking at the blinking cursor and be wondering what the hell I have to write about anyways?

I suppose that no matter what happens in a person's life, it seems like the biggest occurrence to them. For instance, anything that has happened in my life, I try not to complain about because I know other people who have been through worse. And isn't that the way we should think? Considering all of the awful things that could happen to me in this lifetime, I'm pretty damn lucky. I just try to remember that before I complain or cry or do any irrational action.

Won't lie, though, my life is a crazy rollercoaster. I don't know which way is up and which way is down half of the time. If you try to ask me how I'm feeling, you'll get an "I'm good," but most of it's bullshit. What else am I supposed to say? When you ask someone how they are doing, do you really want to hear about their shitty lives and how overwhelming some insignificant detail is? Call me when you have a real problem, please. Except I never say that. I'll play psychologist 24/7 if I have to. Listening...it's in my nature. And besides, I actually care about people and their problems, no matter how big or small. I've been there.

I've been in the situation where there is literally nothing wrong in my life but I still feel helpless, useless, and shitty and still want to end my life. And how do you convey that to people? People who actually deal with hardships. How do you tell someone who's mom died that you have a great family and good friends and do well in school that you are depressed and want to kill yourself? You just don't. And that's how these things happen.

It's just like how my school has been. Do you think I'm going to complain to my friend who lost her dad and my other friend who lost her brother in a car accident that I'm upset about my breakup? Fuck no. That's so fucked on so many levels that I don't even know how to express myself. And the worst part is that they keep asking me how I'm doing and I just want to scream who gives a fuck about me? Things could be so much worse!

Then I get this concussion and I guess it's pretty bad and all these people are worried about me, right? All I can think is that he is too ignorant to text me and be like hey, I know we aren't talking right now but I know you're in the hospital, is everything okay? Maybe he doesn't know, but I think he would by now and it still bothers me he hasn't said anything because he's a coward and I just have to accept that.


God, it feels so good to just write. These are kind of like journal entries, except they are public and anyone can read them. I don't mind, though. Maybe one day someone will comment and be like HEY I feel the same way you do about this. And I'll be like SWEET let's have a conversation.

And who knows? It may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.