Ambien and ready for bed: 12am
Up again after no sleep: 2:30am
And I leave for work at 7 in the morning. It may be an interesting day.
Until then, what better to do than update my memoirs. To understand why someone feels how they do, you must first walk a mile in their shoes. Lame jokes aside, it normally is a true saying. If you can empathize with someone, you can normally at least relate to their opinions, even if you do not agree. So let's continue delving into my past.
I left high school with amazing standardized test scores, along with a 3.99 GPA. I honestly could go to any college I wanted, most of them for free. I'll admit it was fun getting large legal envelopes in the mail with YALE plastered on the side. However, I really had no desire for more schooling. I had just spent 13 years proving to teachers I already knew whatever they were about to teach. I also really had no aspirations or goals at all yet. My parents and guidance counselor would not accept no for an answer, though, so I went to one of the two schools that required no essays of how I will be a great person, nor other such nonsense. The first was North Texas, the second was Florida State. I decided to live closer to the beaches.
Classes were more of the same, though much less rigid. I still wasn't "learning" anything. I got pretty jaded to the whole system and ended up just going to classes in which I had friends who would keep tabs on me. I aced Spanish 1/2, Golf, Oceanography, Trig, Precalc, and Music Theory, and received whatever grade they tend to give people that don't show up to those other classes. I never looked at my final transcript of that year, but it was enough to know I wasn't going back to school there.
I did love the area, and after my first round of taking anti-depressants, I saved up enough money to move to Tallahassee. I had no plans, but just wanted to be my own person somewhere. I guess to prove to myself that I was more than just my parents' shadow in Smalltown, AR. I don't really know, it just felt like the right thing to do. I stayed in touch with some friends from my freshman year, got some crummy retail jobs, and met a girl who I soon asked to marry me. We were engaged for a couple of years, but no wedding. There were too many issues with me getting worse depression, her family hating me, she was projecting hate onto me from somewhere else entirely (have ideas, but for her sake I won't say, as I am probably wrong), and so many other things.
Between an old roommate ditching and leaving me to pay full rent on a townhouse, plus a naive, lovestruck boy spending entirely too much money on jewelry and dates to save something that was never going to last, I went flat broke. Walking to work, living with your ex'es family, looking forward to Hamburger Helper broke. I finally gave up on my little experience and moved back home with my parents, who also loaned me the money to get out of debt. Very much appreciated but self esteem was at an all time low. I had revolving prescriptions for different anti-depressants, but nothing really helped. It was pretty dark, but I at least was in a place were people cared for me. It took way too long to realize how important that could be.
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