Not your average bear.

I don't think I'm that average. Well, nobody really is. We all have our little quirks and specialties that make us different and unique. But enough Mr. Rogers here. I guess I'm comparing myself to what I think the average twenty year old should look like, and honestly, sometimes it gets me kinda down. I live with my parents, work with my parents at a horrible place, don't have a car, don't have a nice body or even look very good, don't have a church, don't go to school, don't have a boyfriend, and don't know the town I'm in or anybody living here. My nearest friends live 30 minutes away, and I think I bug them sometimes with all my emotional/mental problems. I guess I feel pretty pathetic. And I know that it is not wrong or bad to not be average. And who am I to set a standard for normality?? Usually I'm pretty content, been recently hopeful, and a lot of times even like being "strange". But today the devil has been really trying to hook me on to the comparing game, and I don't like it. Every thing I do seems to remind me how much I disgust myself. And tomorrow's Easter. Aren't we supposed to be happy on Easter?

Oh Father, it's so hard to be patient. For so long...
Especially when you don't know what you're waiting for.



**note for last entry: I forgot to mention that we live less than a mile from a huge toxic wasteland (i.e. a landfill where they bury all the garbage.) Obviously there can't be any houses or buildings there, so there's a couple acres of barren grassy mounds that also remind me I'm not in suburbia anymore***