Alone
2004-08-30 @ 8:20 a.m.

I feel so alone this morning, and no, it didn't just start this morning, but more yesterday, and for all I know years ago. It's just intensified today, in a way I'm not sure how to face or controll so you're being blessed with the curse of hearing me ramble about it.

I went to church yesterday and while I'm sitting in between my mother and a person who's been a close friend for almost 3 years now, I feel like a trator, like someone who's invaded this holy place like a demon in heaven. They all know me, but, don't really know me. If they knew who I really am, what I really think, they would look at me and turn their claws on me. So I sit, I sing, and I take the sermon notes like everyone else, yet not really breathing until the car seems to pull it's self, rather than being driven, out of the parking lot and half a mile away.

I had a panic attack yesterday while driving to the book store to pick up Jodi's new book. I just knew that someone was going to run the light, the stop sign, or not yeild to the right of way and smash into me killing me, or mangling me to the point of being unrecognizable, but that would be okay... I always carry ID on me in case of something just like that happening. Just in case something happens, and they can't identify the body, they can at least get my name from the drivers license in my back pocket. Fears, that most of the time seem completely founded, not out of the ordinary. But when I have one of my days, they are carried to the extreme of my hands shaking and every drive wearing me out to the point of coming home and falling into bed completely spent and sore all over from the stress of driving 4 miles.

Scott called last night, he said "What's going on, you sound sad." This after I'd told him that the reason my mother had taken Emma out of town was to just get out, not for any other reason. When he didn't understand I explained to him that when you live in a town that's large enough to have the appeal of the city, but where everyone, everything, moves so slowly, it's nice to get out, to a smaller town where you feel like you're the fast paced one, where you don't feel so suffocated by the nonexistant rush hour traffic. He accepted this, but didn't really seem to understand and asked what else was going on. He must have known that I needed him for a few brief moments. I heard him begin to breathe the words that he was headed to bed, but when I was completely silent, he stayed a few moments longer, and asked if I was still there, he couldn't hear me breathing.

None of this makes sense now that I read over it, and you'll probably not only never understand but run screaming from your computer with the hopes that the thrown together words haven't yet been burned into your retna.

I feel so alone.