Everyday Stress in my Life

Blogademic

2007-06-06T11:57:00.000-05:00

It came without a warning, web logging took over the cyber world with an explosion of creativity. Blogging continues to lure the young and old, into it’s devilish grasp. As the days past, blogging continues to take over the world. Blogs are popular because the blogger can express their creativity without restrictions.

Web logs are used to state the individuals’ opinion about certain topics that the blogger feels strongly on. Blogging is also used as an online journal, or novel on the persons’ life. It gives the person freedom to express their creativity without limitation. Many people have very interesting blogs, which can also be heartbreaking. In my blog, http://everydaystressinmylife.blogspot.com, I describe the everyday stress in my life. I write a weekly blog to keep the other bloggers informed of what is currently going on. My blog posts explain how certain events molded me into the person that I am today. For instance, I describe how my move from New York to Ohio changed me as a person. When bloggers read my posts, they leave me a opinionated comment about my posts. Other bloggers write about things that are important to them, traveling, favorite team sports, food, and so on. The fact that people write their opinions on your posts, shows that they are interested and they actually pay attention to your posts.

In the book, We’ve Got Blog, J.D. Lasica interviews four journalists and questions them about their opinion on blogging. J.D. Lasica’s article, BLOGGING AS A FORM OF JOURNALISM: WEBLOGS OFFER A VITAL CREATIVE OUTLET FOR ALTERNATIVE VOICES, states that “ Web logging will drive a powerful new form of amateur journalism…,” (163). Journalist Paul Andrews believes that the more the internet evolves, it will be an electronically published world. During his interview Andrews says, “ If the tools become more sophisticated…, then I think we’ll evolve to a different kind of journalism,” (167). Web logging is slowly testing the waters of journalism. Young journalist can write without any restrictions, and they can always publish their articles online in .05 seconds. Deborah Branscum lists the cool things about blogging: Creative freedom, instantaneity, interactivity, and lack of marketing constraints. Branscum says that web logs tend to be less about actual reporting and more about analysis and opinions. She believes that journalists will continue to write for publication that pay. She also states, “ Unless someone figures out a way to pay journalists for our web logs…” (169).

Web logging has created a hierarchy. Bloggers have a placement that ca be temporary, unless they become very good at writing blogs, and they become popular in the blogging community. The bloggers on top of the hierarchy tend to be snotty, and judgmental. They are the one’s who are popular in the writing community and extremely good at writing. Those individuals’ have a passion for writing and they take their hobby seriously. The bloggers who commented on my class’s comments on Defective Yeti is a prime example of the top dog’s in the hierarchy. The bloggers on the lower level of the hierarchy are the beginning writers. The one’s who are trying out the whole blogging scene, but get no slack by the “ top dogs”.

My opinion on web logging is neutral. A whole world of it’s own, web logging has taken over cyber space with a punch of its’ fist. It seems like this new scene has become popular over night. Web logging is used as a form of journalism, or personal diary. Because bloggers can express themselves without limitation, web logging has become popular. The only negative thing about web logging is the hierarchy. The top bloggers should not give the beginners a hard time. They are just starting out with blogging. I think they should be given a break. Not everyone is perfect, or has extreme love for writing. I think they need to stop being so judgmental.

????????????

2007-05-24T21:51:00.000-05:00

I have not lived in a stress free zone for as long as I have been living. I guess, I have many people in my life that only live to cause drama. And there is never a dull moment in my life. There is always something that either makes me a better person or just makes me a bitch. I can play the bitch card very well, I might say. I decided that posting blogs about the stress in my life, can be interesting for others to read. I know there are many people out there that can relate to what I am saying. They don't have to necessarily agree with everything, but as long as the blogger understand where I am coming from. I can go on forever about things that have stressed me out in the past starting with 4th grade, but I'm not going to go that far. This topic is like a continuous journey in my life. May it be positive stress or negative. I mostly write about negative, because there is really nothing positive going on in my life right now. Well, I did go to church last Sunday asking God to forgive me of my sins, and to help me stay strong through my struggle. Being a grown up is really hard work. There are responsibilities and people really depend on you. I wish that I could go back to being a child. Then again, I was an adult as a child. I guess its a lose lose situation for me. Why am I not shocked?

Panic Attack!!!!!

2007-05-17T21:21:00.000-05:00

I'm sick of everything going wrong. My life is like a fast pace roller coaster that I can never get off. Let me just take this seat belt off. No!!!!! You're going to fall off and get hurt. It doesn't matter any more. Every time I find a way out of a mess, that tunnel only leads me to more problems. I feel sick to my stomach. I'm always nervous. I try to laugh so I can feel better, but I can't bullshit myself.

I need help. School is extremely hard, and I once again feel like a dumb ass. Why can't I keep up. The school psychologist thinks that I have a mild case of ADD. Great another thing I have to stress about. I cannot concentrate on one thing for a long time. My mind is playing games with me. I can't remember things most of the time. As the the seconds, minutes, hours, days past I feel as if I'm getting more and more stupid.

Duh!!!!!!!Melinda get on your grind. Stop slipping, I need you to calm down. So many thoughts running through my head. I have a headache now. My heart is trying to break free from it's prison. Oh my God!!!!! I can't breath. I forgot how to breath. Think Melinda think!!! The dumb ass can't even remember how to breath. Am I really having a panic attack here? Theres no one in sight. Breath damn it!!!!!! Breath!!! No one can help you but yourself. Good! Good girl. I knew you could do it. Keep breathing for me. Please breath for me.

Lulabye and Goodnight

2007-05-10T22:43:00.000-05:00

Question: Why is it so difficult to get a decent 8 hours of sleep?

Answer: You have so many things to do. There is no such thing as sleeping. Let me be the sand man and put your eyes to rest. And before you know it you will be running around with energy.

Energizer Bunny

You live by everyone’s expectations and never say no. Every time you have something important to do a family member asks you to do something. And you do it no problem. No sleep!!!!!! You don’t get to sleep. You help mommy and daddy maintain the household, mow and water the lawn, help little brother with homework which takes hours, take care of dog, then do school work. By then I am so tired I just don’t want to do any school work. All I want to do is just lay in that comfortable bed and sleep the day away. That’s just too bad. Get up and do your homework and then study for the midterm coming up. Finally done with all your work, it’s time to lay your limp body on that bed. At this time it is 2 or three in the morning. You have to wake up at 7:30 am to bring little brother to the bus stop and then drive to school.

Secret Hide Away, Do Not Disturb

Run away fast. Go find a secret hideaway. Forget everyone and everything. Go to sleep!!!! You put ear plugs in your ears and go sleep in your closet. You sleep for hours. I told you that was a good idea. Everyone knocks on your door for favors but the door is locked and you cannot hear them. Sucks for them huh? They don’t have the yes girl to bother for the whole day. How great is that?????!!!!!

Jolly Ol' Fat Lady

2007-05-10T22:31:00.000-05:00

Debby wrote the blog, Body Impolitic. This blog had many truths to it. Debby’s main subject is the “ Fat Women”. He has some very opinions about how the heavier women today are treated. These women are not taught to love themselves as they are, but are told that they need to be another way.

Being a “big” women herself, Debby understands that the phrase “ Fat Woman” only tells you two out of a hundred things about the person. One is that they are heavy set, the other is that they are women. The traditional stereotypes of these women range from the fat lady in the circus to the jolly fat aunt. Today obese women are figures of fun and a bad example of someone with low self-esteem and no control. Heavy set women can be rich, poor, of African, Asian descent, lawyer, mother, and so on. Being fat is important to give fat women a set of shared experiences and shared pains. She feels like “ big” women are bombarded with letters and magazines showing the very beautiful, thin girl.

I really can relate to this blog. People are so quick to tell you what you should and should not be. Being fat is one of the do not’s, and continues to push the really skinny girls in our faces as if that is the ideal girl. It is really not fair to compare one type of person to the other. The skinny girls may be pretty but they can also have nasty personalities. Just like fat women can be very beautiful, intellectual, and athletic. The difference in weight does not determine who the person is. The most important thing is to know the person as a whole, and not judge them by their weight. When Debby lists all the things obese women can be, she made a very strong point. You would not be able to understand a person by just labeling them. She continues by saying that fat women have been labeled and frequently poked fun of. Which is true, I have learned from experience. People can be very close minded. I was the chubby girl on the play ground. I was ridiculed everyday by my peers and family. My dad pointed out that I would turn out as fat as the lady on the street. Mind you this lady was huge, and the fact that I starved myself so that I wouldn’t end up like her, is very sad. I was taught at a young age that being fat was like the biggest sin ever.

Because of this, I now realize that image means everything to some people. The harsh words that are supposed to be used in good fun, can really tear someone’s self-esteem. As Debby pointed out, no one wants to be called a jolly fat aunt. Harmful words can be the dagger used to kill one’s soul permanently. Who ever said, “ sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” was wrong. No matter how strong you think you are, words can find a way to get to you. Weight issues have been going on for years. This time people are taking drastic actions like: purging, starvation, or binging. Because of these labels, we now have eating disorders. And this disease has spread everywhere like an epidemic. Teenagers as young as fourteen have eating disorders. They want to be beautiful and desired. And the only way to be desired by the opposite sex is to be thin.

I’m not trying to say that the majority of teenagers and adults have an eating disorder. I just want to point out that body image is everything to some people, and growing up in a society where you are constantly told to be thin creates consequences. I
was always told that if you were thin, you would get all the boys drooling at your feet, but if you were fat, you were the ugly duckling, the outcast.Which brings me to the point that as a society with high morals, we sure can judge people. The definition of beauty is not thin. We have generalized these two things. That should not be the case.

What A Failure

2007-05-08T21:49:00.000-05:00

I have writers block. I just have so much going through my mind right now, and for some strange reason I cannot put it in writing. I'm just a big ol' mess, emotional and mentally. Why is it that I made it to college, but I can't seem to keep things together. Lately I have been struggling. I can't be an extrordinary student( hahahahaha). I'm not going to lie to myself. I never was the perfect genius. I can't even be average.

In past blogs, I babble on and on how I can't fail, and how failure is not an option. Too late for that!!!!! I have already failed. Sad to say I'm the biggest FAILURE ever. I'm at the brink of failing out of college. Bet mommy and daddy would be proud. My boyfriend tells me, " College is not for everybody babe," that's a bunch of BULLSHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why am I the unfortunate one, right? I'm not going to play the pity role and ask God, " why can't I be smart like the other kids." It's all my fault!!!!!!!!!!!

I tried so hard. But I guess trying hard doesn't cut it. It's all over for me. Everything goes downhill from here. I GIVE UP!!!!!!!!! You hear that? I GIVE UP!!!!!!!!!! I raise my hand in the air and call uncle. It was a long bumpy ride and the sad part is I didn't even have a chance in the beginning. I set myself up for failure. Why didn't I speak up? Why am I always the girl up in the corner? I should have fought harder. The pathetic part about this is all I wanted was at least a hug from my parents. I wanted to feel like I'm not a piece of shit

I failed my mom. I think about all she went through, all the names she was called. They put her down. And they continue to put her down. By they I mean the family. They say I'm just like her, and we are just alike. But I don't want to be weak. I want to be stronger. I want to be smarter. I want them to hear me loud, " I am my mother!!!!!!!" I will be strong for her. Sorry daddy I have failed you too. You know this guy never thought about himself. He always put his children first. He sacrificed everything financially. He put me in the best private schools to keep me from certain kids. I failed. Sorry mommy and daddy.

The Way I am

2007-04-26T22:19:00.000-05:00

I don't know why I am the way I am. I try to be smarter, but can't seem to keep my head in the books. My parents want me to be so many things but I can't. They want me to be a doctor and that's a goal that I am trying to pursue. I want to be the child that is not a Fuck up. I want them to be proud of me. I want them to see that I appreciate everything that they sacrificed for me. But I can't seem to do that when the spot light is on me twenty fours hours of the day.

My parents have me on a high pedestal. My mom got pregnant when she was 14 years old. And my dad's family criticize her for that. But my dad helped too, so I don't see why the girl is the bitch and the guy is just the man. When my parents had me, my dad's family already predicted my future. They said that I was going to be a bitch just like my mom. Well I guess that I'm a bitch that is in college, while their ass is working jobs that don't even pay much.

If I mess up and do anything to mess up my life, they will continue to put my mom through shit. That's why failure is not an option for me. I love my mom and I know she has been through a lot. That's why I want to do great things. So that I can show the same people saying that I was a bitch in the making, that I am a bitch with a degree and going to med school.

I have had this weight on my shoulders ever since I was a kid. It kind of fucked up that I have family members on both sides of the family that are waiting to see me fail. I cannot let them see me fail. I will not fail. I will continue to be successful in everything that I do. I can go through thousands of stress, school, home, boyfriend, etc. I have to exceed and be someone great.

If not for myself but for my mom. She was called to many things, she went through many hardships. I know what I have to do. The road is hard and bumpy. I cry because I think that I can't handle it. Crying is my only way of relieving all my stress. It takes all the emotions and flushes them out. I'm tired of being sad and angry. I want to be more happy. I want everyone not to depend on me. I just want to be a kid again.

Locked Up In My Own Home

2007-04-19T12:23:00.000-05:00

How many 19 year olds do you know that cannot do anything? Someone at this age should have some type of job experience, know how to take care of themselves, be independent. I have one person in mind when I think of these questions. Who else but the one and only Melinda!!!!!

My parents are strict and they don’t give me the freedom that most teenagers my age have. A typical weekend for me is staying home, watching television, babysitting both my little brothers, checking emails, and talking on the phone with my boyfriend. I am not allowed to go out unless I ask for permission. My seventeen year old brother gets more freedom then I do. When I get to hang out with my friends, I am stuck with my ten year old brother. So I am stuck babysitting while I am hanging out with my friends.

As the years past, I just feel more trapped in my house. I’m not allowed to work, not allowed to have any freedom what so ever. I feel like Rupanzel, stuck in this tower with no way out. Except I’m not waiting for prince charming to save me. I WANT OUT!!!!!!!!! I want to find my own way out, my own escape route. I’m scared to move on to the real world, but my parents are pushing me so far off the edge that I can already begin to fly off into a deep dark ibises. My little brother doesn’t listen to them and they just complain. If I were to act like him they would tie my chains tighter for be disobedient. I’m a prisoner in my own home. The more I stay there, the deeper I fall in my own sad little world.

The Big Move (Final)

2007-04-18T11:05:00.000-05:00

The Big Move
I have lived in Brooklyn, NY ever since I was born. I never thought that I would leave the city I loved for so long. Little did I know that my freshman year in a New York high school was going to be my last time in the city. Never thought that my life would change in a blink of an eye.
My neighborhood was just as loud and busy as any other winter day. But as the days were rolling by, the neighborhood became more dangerous. I was 14 years old when the tragic news spread around the community. Young girls my age were getting kidnapped in their own apartment complexes and murdered. Some girls were left dead under the stairs of the buildings. My parents were horrified by the news. They told me to be extra careful and watch everyone around me. I was one of those care-free teenagers, who really didn’t pay attention to what their parents said. I was going to soon regret this ignorance.
It was the beginning of spring and the weather was so nice out. The flowers were blooming, everyone was outside hanging out on the street corner, people were honking the horns of their cars, and a police siren screamed it’s lungs out as it passed me by. I was on my way home from school, when my dad ran into me. I kissed his cheeks and went up the stairs of my building. As my father approached the last step, two male figures jumped out at him. To their surprise it was a man that they had almost abducted. “ What the (you finish the rest) are you doing!!!! GET THE ( choose your own words) OUT!!!!!”. These men ran out of the building as if they were set on fire. My father then ran up the stairs and knocked on our apartment door. “ Did you see anyone hiding behind the stairs?”. “No” I replied. He spoke in his serious voice and said “ Lock the door after I leave, and don’t answer it for anyone”. That was the last time I had thought about the conversation.
My father was so horrified about the thought of those men and how they could have taken me. I would have been just like those other girls. He refused to let his only daughter live in a dangerous environment any longer. On that same night he told my mom to find another place to live, far away from the city. My mother called her sisters in Ohio for advice about the living conditions. The next day my aunts started looking for a place for my mom, three brothers, and me to live. It was around April when my parents dropped the bomb on me. I was to pack all my belongings and leave the only place that I have ever known as home. I was devastated. How could they do this to me? There was no point of arguing, my parents minds were already made up. As the months got closer to the BIG MOVE, I cried myself to sleep everyday. I was going to move to a different state, new lifestyle. I didn’t want to leave my friends behind. But I had to.
June 30, 2003, my mom, three brothers and I moved to Reynoldsburg, Ohio. My dad had to stay back home so he wouldn’t lose his pension. We were welcomed by a group of neighborhood kids. That didn’t matter to me. I knew that I wasn’t going to like them and was not willing to give them a chance. I spent five months at that school not talking to anyone and giving people mean looks, when they tried to make conversation. I was sad and angry all the time. I just couldn’t stand being all by myself. One day it hit me. Being mean to everyone else doesn’t make me happy. I was sad because I felt alone. I had to face the facts that Ohio is where I live now. And I have to make the best of my stay here. So I started hanging out with people at school and my neighborhood. I made a lot a friends, gained many memories, and had lots of laughs. If I did not come to this conclusion, I would still be crying and wondering why I was so alone.
I lived in Reynoldsburg for two years. Just as I was getting used to my surroundings, my parents told me that once again we were moving. We were moving again because my little brother was causing problems and hanging out with the wrong people. My mother found an envelope in the mail. It had no return address, no name. In the envelope contained a letter claiming that if my mom did not move my brother, he was going to die. Later that afternoon, I found my aunts, and uncles in my kitchen. I didn’t really think anything of it, until I saw my mom by the stove, with waterfalls streaming down her face non-stop. “ What’s going on?”. “ Sit down. We are having a family meeting” my uncle said. We spent hours discussing who my brother was hanging out with, was he in a gang, does he smoke, should we move. At first my brother denied everything, but I guess he felt bad about my mom crying, so he decided to tell the truth for the first time in his life. That night was my last night in Reynoldsburg. This time we moved to enemy territory. I was going to spend my senior year at Pickerington High School Central. This news crushed me. It felt as if my parents were stabbing my heart over and over again. I fought to stay in Reynoldsburg. I tried the option of living with my aunt. My parents did not agree with that option.
We moved to Pickerington that July. I had to start over again. And once again I
was quiet and wasn’t interested in making any friends. My main concern was to graduate and get out of that high school as fast as I could. I joined the step team and made new friends. Before I knew it, my high school career was over. It was time to move on to bigger and better things. That conclusion made me angry, only for the mere fact that I didn’t get to keep all my friends I started out with. I had to keep making extreme changes in my life. My little brothers got the opportunity to make friends in elementary and junior high school. They get to go to high school with most of their friends. They get all those memories that I had taken away from me. My brothers are the lucky ones. I will always feel like I don’t belong in Ohio. I graduated high school and now I’m starting all over in college. This time around it’s harder. School is more difficult, friends at this age are harder to trust. I was pushed into the real world without a friend to help me adjust to these changes. I am now 19 years old and I can say that these changes have effected me terribly. I would dread having to wake up in the mornings to go to school. Now I walk in the hallways of OSUN with my head down and a sad look on my face. As the days go by, I just want to stay home and hope that my feelings will change. I keep hoping that I won’t feel lonely anymore. But I know that will never happen. I went from a happy freshman to an empty college freshman. I show my smiles time to time. But you will never know the emptiness I feel inside

185

2007-04-12T21:30:00.000-05:00

Have you ever wished you could be a certain way? I have. I always wanted to be that athletic girl, with a flawless body. The girl that every guy would love to have as their girlfriend. But then I stare into realities ugly face. How could I let myself go? I have always been the heavy set girl all my life. I was born a 10 lbs baby girl. Crazy huh. Even though I've been so heavy all my life, it's always bothered me. And my self-esteem lowers down every time I see those flawless girls.
In elementary school, I was constantly taunted about my weight. Those kids, who were my so called friends made my life a living hell. I was taunted until I graduated 8th grade. I used to go home thinking this was my haven. Once again, I was wrong. My parents taunted me too. They didn't do it like the kids. They would say that I had a pretty face but I was just to FAT!!!!!! I've have heard the "F" word since, I was born. I found it said that there was no where to run.
My little brothers Holy Communion was coming up May 1996. My parents took me to a clothing store to try on some dresses. The one I really wanted did not fit. None of the dresses really did fit me. I promised my parents, I would be able to fit in that dress. " just give me a chance" I said. I did lose weight and I got the dress. High school was not bad. No one really cared. They all thought that I looked good. I wish, I could think like that. There was just so many things I wanted to do to lose weight, but I didn't have money so I was out of luck.
It was winter quarter, and I was in my conditioning class. We had the choice in weighing ourselves for a project. I stared at the balance for about five minutes when I decided to step on. I was really nervous because I haven't weighed myself in years. 185!!!!!!!!! Could the scale be wrong? It just kept reading 185. "Evil little scale" I thought.

Main Stressors

2007-04-05T14:55:00.000-05:00

College life is said to be stressful. Some say it’s the best years of your life. Others find it difficult to adjust to the whole environment. Trying to balance school, family life and friends can be a very difficult task.
I am a freshman at OSUN. I originally wanted to go to main campus but my grades were not good enough. I am the only child out of 4 that has and still is attending college. My parents have high hopes for my future. They want me to go to college and succeed to the fullest. I really didn’t know much about college life. Growing up I didn’t have too many people in my family who went to college. My parents were born in another country called Haiti. They came from a poor family, therefore; they did not get the chance to further their education.
In high school, I had to pretty much figure out how to do certain things by myself. College life is the same thing as high school. Except the courses are harder and lessons go by really fast. I was one of the students that could not keep up. I thought, I could figure things out pretty quickly but that was not the case. I ended up failing most of my classes because I didn’t have the books and I simply could not keep up. My parents always said “Patience is a virtue”, well that saying does not go well in college. When you need books to study, you need them right now!!!
My parents have never been to college so they don’t know what’s going on in my life. I didn’t get a lot of help from financial aid because my mom made too much money. I ended up taking loans to pay off the rest of my school fees. On top of worrying about money, I have to help my youngest brother with his school work. And doing that is such a pain. He takes forever to complete his homework. When he fails a subject my parents blame it on me. They say it is my responsibility to help them wit my little brother. So I have money problems, dealing with my little brother’s grades and mine. There’s also the stress I get from my boyfriend. He believes we don’t talk as much as we used to. And we’re always arguing because I’m on edge.
I don’t get to hang out with my friends as much anymore. I don’t have the time to do chores around the house. I can’t even enjoy college life for one second. When I get home, I help my little brother with his homework, do my own homework and study, talk to my boyfriend for an hour, and later call my best friend. I feel so hopeless. I feel like, I can break down at any point. Juggling everything all at once and trying to meet everyone’s standards are just too difficult to handle.

THE BIG MOVE

2007-03-30T22:35:00.000-05:00

The Big Move
I’ve lived in Brooklyn, NY ever since I was born. I never thought that, I would leave the city I loved for so long. Little did I know that my freshman year in a New York high school was going to be my last time in the city. Guess I was a fool to think that my life would always be the same.
The weather was so nice out. The flowers were blooming, everyone was outside hanging out on the street corner, people were honking their cars, and the police siren was getting louder as it passed me by. I was on my way home from school, when my dad ran into me. I kissed his cheeks and went up the stairs of my building. As my father approached the last step, two male figures jumped out at him. To their surprise it was a man that they almost abducted and they ran out the building. Things like that was going around my neighborhood. Many of the people taken were young females around my age. They would rape them in their own building and leave the body there dead.
My father was so horrified about the thought of those men and how they could have taken me. I would have been just like those other girls. He refused to let his only daughter live in a dangerous environment. On that night he told my mom to find another place to live, far away from the city. My mother chose to move to Ohio because her sisters lived there. It was around April when my parents dropped the bomb on me. I was to pack all my belongings and leave the only place that I have ever known as home. I was devastated. How could they do this to me? There was no point of arguing, my parents minds were already made up. As the months got closer to the BIG MOVE, I cried myself to sleep everyday. I was going to move to a different state, new lifestyle. I didn’t want to leave my friends behind. But I had to.
June 30, 2003, my mom, three brothers and I moved to Reynoldsburg, Ohio. My dad had to stay back home so he wouldn’t lose his pension. We were welcomed by a group of neighborhood kids. That didn’t matter to me. I knew that I wasn’t going to like them and was not willing to give them a chance. I went to Reynoldsburg high school and joined the choir. Then I joined the step team. My cousin was the captain and she encouraged me to join. I spent 5 months at that school not talking to anyone and giving people mean looks, when they tried to have a conversation. One day it hit me. By being mean to everyone else doesn’t make me happy. I was sad because I felt alone. I had to face the facts that Ohio is where I live now. And I have to make the best of my stay here. So I started hanging out with people at school and my neighborhood. I made a lot a friends, gained many memories, and had lots of laughs. If I did not come to this conclusion, I would still be crying and wondering why I am so alone.