I cried myself to sleep last night. It started when I dozed off and in my semi-conscious almost-dream state my mind just generated this evil picture of my grandma in a casket, and I woke up crying. I tried stopping it with all of the usual cajoleries i.e. "at least she wont be in pain for too long", "she says she's ready so let her go", "hold onto the good memories", and "no one lives forever". It really only made it worse. Somehow it became me worrying about my father. He's going to be 55 years old, he's getting old. He won't be here for long either, especially with his health the way it is. When I was younger I used to pray for the apocalypse to come so that I wouldn't have to watch my family die. It's really odd too, because we aren't exceptionally close. Sometimes it's a chore just to be amiable and make civilized conversation. Still, I felt so punctured last night and more alone that I have in a long time. It's left me really off balance, and I feel like I'm overcompensating in everything that I do. It really doesn't help that I always put so much pressure on myself to be composed - or at least act it - and in to be control at all times. I was just really thrown. I still am. I almost called Matt last night, but he wasn't having a good evening to begin with, and I didn't know what to say. I'm just looking forward to going to see him, I think it's going to be insanely relaxing.
People have been laying guilt trips on me pretty thick about not wanting to come home this summer. I wish they wouldn't take it as such a personal affront. Then again, I've known since senior year that I was going to be getting the hell out within the next 4 years. That's why I came to Minnesota in the first place, to escape. I don't enjoy going home and it's not because of the people there. God knows, I love my friends and miss them horribly, but there are too many painful memories and the area itself just sucks the life out of me. Plus, it's not like I'm not going to keep in contact with them. I don't understand why they're so shocked that I'm not coming back. It just boggles me. How long did they think I'd stick around for?
Also, I've officially been trapped in this "everyone secretly hates me"/"everyone is getting pissed at me and isn't telling me"/"something is wrong and it's me"/"why is everything so goddamn awkward" mind-frame for the past few days. Paranoia Paranoia Paranoia. Also, I feel like anyone that is irritated at anything is really irritated at me, and is just trying to be kind by holding their tongue. Naw, it can't be midterms, crappy weather, and relative shit-tons of homework. That's too logical. Fuck you, social anxiety. I had a hard time believing that Doug was enjoying himself, but I often get that with my more "quiet" friends. I wish the air-bed wasn't being stupid. We've patched the fucker like 4 times. Faith is going to try super glue, and we'll see. I think we should just caulk the fucker, but that's just the overdo-it-yourself hick in me talking.
Also, I've decided that I couldn't care less about my theater midterm. Hm.