*YAWN!* So tired. Matt and I have both had long days-- separate days, but long days indeed. Matt made over $300 within two days and I have been busting my ass looking for a full-time job. I'm not happy with how I'm going about this-- department stores and retail bullshit. Those are all summer jobs. I want a job where I can make at least $20,000 - $30,000 per year. That would be groovy.

So my parents want me out of the house by August 16th. "Happy birthday. Get out of our house." I wish these people would make up their minds. So, I need to do things before I move out.

1) Secure full-time job
2) Get driver's license
3) Start savings and checking accounts
4) Retrieve car from Jessi
5) Make sure Matt has a job as well

Not impossible. I've been too busy focusing on the problem that I forgot the solution. (*winks at Joe*) I need to calm down and fix what's going on instead of sitting and feeling sorry for myself. Not a problem anymore. I've been driving with John and I'll have him take me up to get my license. When I get paid next, I'll pay my cell phone bill and start an account with the remaining money. Sounds good, right?

Maybe the fates were trying to instill the fear of God into Mathew—maybe myself as well. Maybe God was trying to get Matt to feel what it was like to regret something, to feel guilty for any misdeeds he has done. Maybe it was a test of my strength and loyalty. I’m proud of him—he has learned his lesson from all of this and he doesn’t steal anymore. But I’m still swelling with pride for his progress. “Give credit where credit is due.” So I sit here, smile and applaud him for all his efforts.

Every demon he and I face individually, we face together. So long as we have each other, we’re never alone. I feel bad about thinking those things in my last entry. That wasn’t fair. I was writing out of anger, hurt, and frustration with our situation and how there’s always another twist to it, no matter what. It’s not always a bad twist, but it’s a twist indeed.

Matt is gifted, truly gifted when it comes to words. He talked his way out of going to jail in DC but he can’t remember what he said—apparently, he blacked out saying it. That’s how I get when I practice my spells. I go to a place where I’m no longer a being of this earth, but a celestial apparition that knows exactly what she’s doing. It’s like Richard in the Temple of the Winds. Once he leaves, he has to forfeit all his knowledge, but when he’s in there, everything is understood. That’s how Matt is. He possesses a gift like I’ve never seen or felt before. He uses it to protect himself or me, and only in desperate times can he truly use it best. I know he’s using it when his eyes start sweeping across his surroundings and his fingers start to wiggle rapidly. He contains his energy well, and sometimes even blocks it off from himself. I don’t blame him—it would be too powerful for even me to handle. He lets it loose when he sleeps, I believe. That’s why he talks in his sleep, I think—and the most common problem with strongly gifted people—nightmares. He only sleeps still and peacefully when I stay up to watch over him. Then again, I could be completely wrong about all this. I think I’ll ask Sandy and Sky. Hmm. Interesting question.

So I promised Mathew that I would do some soul-searching and find more spirituality and religion. I found this small, more modern religion that has a minimal basis of Christianity. I really like the ideas that they have and I intend on looking into it more. I still don’t like Christianity that much, but this is different. This is called “New Thought.” I really like this:
“Suffering results from ignorance of one's true nature as Perfect Mind and ceases with complete realization that we all are one with God, the Universal Mind. One can heal personal suffering through New Thought practices, often with the assistance of New Thought practitioners.”
“Many believe that repeated reincarnations are God's gift, each lifetime a preparation for the next, until "perfection" is reached, which is God.”

It’s all very interesting. Wicca is great and all, but I’m a lousy witch. I’m a strong one, but not a very faithful one. My spells usually pull through. But I just don’t practice that much anymore. I still strongly believe in magick and the power of nature, because too much has happened to me—I’ve seen way too many things for it not to be true, felt too many spirits and heard too many tales for it to be false. But as much as I was blessed with being in touch with that side of my brain, I’m still a lousy witch. I do what feels right, instinctively; I can feel what’s right and what’s wrong. I feel spirits guiding me along. I hear the ghosts in my parents’ house and I do believe in all of that.

Come to think of it, with everything that I believe in, it doesn’t seem absolutely impossible for Jesus to rise from the dead. I still really can’t see him as God, because the whole triple deity in one being kind of freaks me out a little. But I can see him as someone who was extremely touch with nature, his truly spiritual side and his higher power. The reason he came back was a gift from God for living such a pure and spiritual life while spreading the word. He had a few last things to do on this plane and then he had reached a state of total perfection and enlightenment so he could return to be one with God. I believe he was also a martyr just as Joan of Arc or St. John. People were taught that he died for our sins, but then again, why are we still born with Original Sin and still have to be baptized? Wizard’s First Rule. It was a comfort to know that someone loved the world and the people in it so much as to die for them. I say, more power to him. He reached perfection and an eternity in the comfort that is God (who I think is more of an idea than a being) in a record two lifetimes.

I say that I think God is more of an idea than a being because it leaves the believer open to imagine what God is really like as opposed to a being who is one way or another—permanently. A being acts a certain way—and if man is created in God’s image, then God has a personality, beliefs, and ideas of his own. God has the freedom of choice as well. Except He is omnipotent and can do whatever the hell he wants… no pun or offense intended. That kind of scares me.

My idea of God is a loving, nurturing, guiding hand that brings light when there is darkness, kind of like an intangible lover or parent, but only in the heart. I believe that God is in every creation on Earth—the people, the plants, the trees, the animals—they exist in every direction that can be seen. Within every soul there exists a little piece of Him. I’ve noticed that a lot of Atheists are absolutely miserable. I don’t want to push anyone into a religion or a belief structure, but I think that’s because they’re denying that little piece of Him and that need grows larger with every day that they live.

Believing and recovering my beliefs made me not so afraid to be alone anymore. I know that God is helping me make myself whole again. He has sent me the gifts of loyal friends and family, he sent me Mathew. He helped me regain confidence and remember who I am—who I was before I overdosed. I remember now that I’m a Liu girl, a Seale woman, and nothing and no one is ever going to get in my way again—not even me. God helps me remember. I remember the most important parts of life now. I remember most of all… love. That was the best gift ever given to me or to anyone else.

God, help and bless this world to receive spiritually and emotionally the gifts you have granted me in just these few months. Thank you for all you’ve done for me in my whole life and I apologize for when I cursed your name and abandoned you. Please accept me back into your light and help guide me down the right path. Amen.

Can't shake this feeling... my whole body is burning and there's a lump in my throat. Matt was caught in my room again. My dad has an anyureism on his spine. We spent all day yesterday in hospitals trying to figure out what's wrong with him. He has to go through a very dangerous procedure to remove it. First Mommy's sick and now Daddy. I don't know how to react to this. He's in good spirits, but I don't know how much of that is a front. So I guess I'm scared. That's my daddy! My life goes through these phases where it feels like everything is falling apart. I was doing well... was...

Hey all, sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Well, things here are getting increasingly stressful. Good news is that I convinced Mom and Dad to let me stay as long as I need to and I submitted my poem, "Forever Love" to the New Yorker. Maybe I'll get published-- who knows?

Here comes the bad news.

John had an accident a few weeks ago. Then his oil pan had a huge hole in it. He got it back on Thursday then yesterday, the engine threw a rod. So now he needs a new engine or a new car-- whichever comes first. So now he's all uber depressed and basically inconsolable. I'm trying to help him but it's hard to maintain patience with him and his melodramatic bullshit. He thinks nobody loves him and that he's nothing without the car. *sigh* I wish I could make him see that he is loved and that the car is really nothing but a box on wheels. He thinks he has no friends. If that is true, then what does he think of Matt, Danny and I? I really want to help him out of this depression because I understand his pain. I've been there once. But I got out of it, so maybe he sees it's possible. I wish he understood how much people care for him and appreciate him. Matt's always saying that he's a good person. Danny's stuck by him for years now and I've been his shoulder to cry on for the last year and a half. It kills me to hear him say that I don't care about him-- and he has said it, very seriously. I just wish he'd even see himself as depressed. It's an illness that he can't control without help. *sigh* I also wish he wanted to get better. Maybe it's the fact that he's been hurting so long that it's all he knows and it's some sort of comfort for him to hold on to. Maybe... maybe... that's all I have are maybe's.

Second bad news. Matt got arrested again for second degree burglary. No, it's not what it seems; it's not that he hasn't learned his lesson. He was on his way home from Rockville and he got to Brookland-CUA station and he was thirsty. So he walked over to CUA to get a soda. He walked on campus and walked by a security guard who asked him if was a student there. He lied and said he was then asked where he could get a drink around there. He was directed to the cafeteria where he saw a pull-down gate half-closed so he assumed they were maybe still open. He picked up two sandwiches, a bagel and a drink and went to go pay for it when he noticed that there was nobody around. So he put everything down and started to leave when the same security guard walked by and said, "Hey, what are you doing?! Put your hands behind your back; you're under arrest!" So Matt explained the story to the guard and the guard was trying to talk to his superior to try to get the charge dropped down to unlawful entry. His superior wasn't having it. So now he's facing about three months in jail for an asshole rent-a-cop.

"Every one I know/ Goes away / In the end..." So I'm worried about how this is going to affect our relationship. Every time the boyfriend goes away, I fuck up. I get lonely and cheat on him. I don't want to fuck up this relationship. I don't want another Cory incident. That's one of the reasons why I fought with my parents so hard to keep Matt. I stopped fighting for Cory and I lost him, my first love, and looking back on it, our break-up was all my fault. I will NOT lose Matt. Matt's worried about my fidelity as well. Maybe this is a chance to redeem myself. I will be strong and faithful. We don't have much, and we're not perfect, but we're happy together. Never have I loved so selfishly yet unselfishly. Never have I been absolutely livid at a person and then having it all melt away when I see him. This really only is the second real relationship I've been in. I've had a lot of relationships, but never did I know this intensity of love. I can't lose this-- and if I do, it'll be my fault--again. That will hurt me so deeply. Every emotion I have about Matt is intensified. He can bring me the light from the heavens or the fires from hell.

I'm just praying I can last three months on my own. Maybe it'll be good for me. Maybe I can discover myself more. I can find the Abby I lost before I overdosed, the one who enjoyed life for all that it was worth. I don't quite remember that person. Now I'm just a stable person who gives a whole lot but enjoys very little. I don't even have hobbies anymore. I feel like I'm living a meaningless existence, like I'm doing nothing with my life. This brings me to the final bit of bad news-- I cut up my leg again the other night. There are only nine cuts, but a relapse is a relapse. I really wish I hadn't done that, but I did and I can't change that. It's just with these feelings of worthlessness, the possibility of losing Matt, the inability to help out John, the stress of needing to grow up within a few months and everything else that's going on in my life and my head, I just have naught to do but fight this damn depression as much as I can.

I'm cycling rapidly, too, my mania is coming in fast and hard and my psychiatrist is totally unavailable for months now. I'm afraid of needing to go to the hospital. I've come so far and fought so hard; I've gone through cuts, tears, waiting, overcoming, trying (and being told it wasn't good enough), suicide attempts and everything else in the world, going back would feel like a failure to me. That would mess me up badly. I already feel bad about cutting again. It's not that I'm apologizing to anyone in particular besides myself.

I'm wondering if my wanting to move out is unrealistic and an impulse due to mania. But I don't think so. I think my plans are sensible. I plan to get a second job, get my Social Security Insurance, save up money, when I'm stabilized, go back to school and study to become a therapist. I've discovered that's what I want. I'm not very good at teaching, but I am very good at figuring people out and giving advice. My therapist said that I have a love for mankind and an emotional understanding better than anyone she has ever met. Maybe I do have a sort of gift for emotional skills. I could be great, I could be very great. It should be fun. She also said that I'm stable enough (or that I can handle my emotions well enough) that I don't really need therapy. I'm saying, "Fucking duh!"

I'm looking forward to going to Milwaukee this June. It might be on the third week. This might give me a chance to straighten out my head (maybe Joe will help me realign my chakras) and chase out some of the demons trying to come back. Though when I close my eyes and concentrate, I see a door with a light behind it-- I'm not sure how to walk through it yet, but I feel a familiar presence telling me to go through it. Maybe it's Granddaddy. I dunno, I need some help from either Joe or Deborah because I'm all out of sorts.

Another bit of good news is that I've started to get back into my poetry again. I've forgotten how soothing it is. I'll post the one I wrote today after I'm done ranting. It's basically saying that if I've survived two rapes, two suicide attempts, and child abuse, I can last three months without Matt. That's about it. I dunno. I'm bored with ranting now. So... I'll type up the poem. Later, gators.