I have 6 days until I am admitted, I should feel nervous and I feel calm. This week was rough physically, I had surgery on Monday for my port placement, my last day of high school on Tuesday, CT Scans in Grand Rapids on Wednesday which revealed nothing but anxiety aka nodules in my lungs, Thursday I cut my hair off because I need to get used to loss, and today, Friday, I have another procedure designed to further examine the nodules in my lungs. I pictured my last day of high school differently, crying with my friends because this chapter of our lives was over, all the memories and inside jokes. I didn't get that, but I did get kindness and a restored hope in humanity from my teachers. People who haven't known me for longer than three months, that go out of their way to help me.. I can't say this for all of the teachers I've had, but I have had a few back home and a couple here and I am blessed to know them and to have seen their smiling faces on my last day. All good things come to an end and it always paves the way to some kind of beginning, just so happens that my new beginning is my life. I really love disecting the poems of the week, these two were about life after death. It's something everyone thinks about and nobody is quite sure of. If you're a christian then you know Heaven and Hell but you've never been so you can't be prepared for what either fully entail. There are so many things people do in their lives to ensure that their spirit is clean by the time they die, and so many who don't care. Also the new lady who comes and observes the class ended up with my creative writing. I wrote about a fire leaving me with ashes, and she added that we can rise from the ashes. It was quite intruiging really, to see my usual depressive writing be rebuilt into a hopeful piece. I'm on a mission to find joy again. Is it in the form of God or a psychiatrist who will give me one of America's many "happy little pills." I don't know, but I hope Macbeth interests me.
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April 2017
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