But I Don’t Even Eat Meat! 4.
Trying to create some sort of chronological timeline without overwhelming everyone with tales of sorrow and woe is me is kicking my ass.
If I just stacked all the bad things that have happened to me over time in a list, I’d probably become suicidal. It’s hard to look at them all and not be burdened by incessant regret and curiosity.
Luckily, for all my analytical thinking, I continue to grasp onto the tiniest, strongest string of faith I can find. I don’t know who the faith is in, exactly. I couldn’t even verbalize what the end result of having all this faith will get me when it’s all said and done. All I know, is I wake up every day thinking that there must be a reason that I am constantly struggling and it’s not just for the shits and giggles of some omnipotent, bodiless spirit in the sky. That leads me to believe that at some point, the bad shit will stop.
Fuck that noise. Patience is not a virtue I possess.
Shitty things aside, some amazing things have happened in my life as well. I’d just like to find a balance. A yin to the negative energy’s yang. I just want my life to stop being bipolar.
But the foundation has to be built…
Eric was an instructor at DLI in Monterey. He wasn’t attractive. We called him “Birdnose.” Eric went on a couple dates with my roommate/frenemy (who has time for that nonsense) and she kicked him to the curb. Her lifestyle was similar to mine… and I’m sure every other insecure female teenager in America trying to figure life out. If you were an authority figure, she’d date you and dump you. So when she was done with Eric, I jumped on the chance to get a free dinner, a bath in a bathtub (living in the barracks was NOT glamorous) and a chance to drive his Mustang.
One dinner turned into a positive pregnancy test and the end of an era. I wasn’t going to be a counter operative for the government. I wasn’t going to be an assassin.
I had set out to blaze my own trail. I was going to college.
I hated kids.