My chest feels heavy. Or perhaps more appropriately, my heart feels heavy. I'm dizzy, and my hands are shaking. I feel like I'm on the verge of a panic attack. And I feel like crying. I mean really crying, like ugly, messy, sobbing until my eyes are dry.
I came to Caribou this evening with the intention of getting work done, and now I have no concentration and work ethic.
Last night I slept 14+ hours. Is that unhealthy? I got no more than a sum of 9 hours the previous two nights. It could be argued that my body was catching up. But even after more than 14 hours of sleep last night, I still want to sleep. That's all I want to do. Sleep has become a major escape for me lately. When I just want to get away from the world and all of the shit that's been going on lately, I sleep. And eat. Sleep and stress eat.
I want to be happy. And I want to not be so angry all of the time. I feel this intense anger inside of me all the time, and I don't know how or why it got there, nor how to get rid of it. And I want to not be lonely. I've lost one roommate to graduation, and another to student teaching and her boyfriend. I never see her. (Don't mistake me, I'm not angry at her for it. These things just happen.) And so when I am at the apartment, I'm lonely. And I'm so disconnected from my friends at school, so I never see them, either. So Reader's Digest version: Leah hates her life.
And I've prayed about all of this, and I know that it'll get better, that God will work some good into my life. My problem is that I want it to be instant, even though I know it doesn't work that way. God's will works on HIS terms, not ours. It's hard being patient.
I feel a little better having gotten all of this out. Not a ton better, but a little.