Holy crap, will I ever have enough time in the day? How did I manage it when I had university? Geez. I remember back in my very first semester, my days used to be like 19 hours long. I don't think I could ever function properly with 4 hours of sleep anymore.

A lot has been going on lately, no? It's kind of scary to turn on the t.v. these days... it all seems like a recurring movie; it can't be real. It just can't. I caught the Columbia footage about an hour after it happened. Complete shock. I knew there was no hope when I saw the beginning of it, but even after seeing it break apart into many pieces, I still tried to make myself believe that it was going to be okay. I wish I was stupid like that but I can never fool myself. I can't imagine how it's affecting family and friends, people involved with NASA; how it feels to have a piece of a space shuttle hurled onto your property, or feel the turbulence and see it happen firsthand. 16 minutes and they could have made it here safely. It's funny how time margins can be so drastic in different situations... half an episode of Will & Grace, the time it takes to eat lunch, to have a shower, to have a short conversation on the phone. You'd think that it was nothing, that it was just a little blur in your life. But those 16 minutes meant life or death for those 7 people, and those 16 minutes cost them their lives.

Hearing about the war situation wasn't easily absorbed either. To actually see the new missile launch sites, to hear of all the stuff going on over there... to know that this is the time that one decision could make a vital difference on our future. I'm terrified. I wish I could tell myself that this is all a big joke... that I'm going to be fine, but I can't. I remember being 9 years old in elementary school, and calling saddam a mad ass (saddam=maddas). If only I knew how right I actually was.

Anyway, I had to lock my diary. Why you ask? Someone informed me that Damieon's sister was reading my diary, and it spread pretty damn far. When something like that gets to another whole province, that's when I start to freak out. God only knows who else Damieon gave my address to. I'm just so disgusted with him... I can't even put it into words. I feel so exposed, vulnerable. I was exploited with no second thought as to what was actually being done. This diary isn't meant for anyone who personally knows me... it's like an invasion of my privacy. I'm so hurt right now. I take pride in my diary. It's helped me through so much; these past three years have been a constant rollercoaster. I've made many friends on here; I liked the fact that random people could come here and have a chuckle, relate to certain things that I go through on a day-to-day basis, or just feel better for coming here. Damieon forced me to take that away, to lock myself up. I'll never forgive him for that.

There's a lot going on with me physically. I've been trying to force myself into a regular sleeping schedule, and it's been working for the most part. I'm still shocked when I wake up on my own at 8 a.m. and start my day. I used to wake up at least 20 times a night, and now it's usually no more than 10-15. I'm a lot less restless, and I'm not so tired during the day anymore. Hopefully I can stay on this dosage of Zoloft and function properly again. To tell you the truth, I think about getting off them every single day. I don't like being dependent on drugs to get me through the day. I honestly believe that my underlying problem is a chemical balance though, and I don't think there's any way for me to be okay without correcting it via medication. It scares me. What if chronic depression might not be my only problem? I have pretty serious OCD as well (though I haven't been offically diagnosed). It's more of a compulsion than an obsession, but it stills gets in the way of normalcy. I'm pretty sure I have anxiety disorder too, and I definitely have post traumatic stress disorder from many different things in the past. I guess that's why I bottle my feelings up all the time. If I actually let myself feel everything at once, I think it would actually kill me. It's one thing I'm proud of; going through so much in my life and to still be here, alive and kicking. I wait for the day that I can be completely and honestly happy with who I am, but until then, I'm doing something right to keep me going.

Dad's been asking me a lot about hospital appointments... I'm supposed to be seeing my doctor this month for another follow-up for my meds and miscarriage. I called the hospital for an appointment and I can't even schedule one until the 20th. I also got tired of waiting for my ultrasound appointment, so I asked about that too. Their ultrasound machine's been broken for almost a month! I'm sorry, but that's just not acceptable. I hate our hospital. I hate all hospitals. I don't even need an ultrasound. I lost the baby almost two months ago and I'm sure it'd be easy to diagnose any problems without any major tests/screenings. Aunt Flo came today, right on time. I can't hack cramps anymore, I've turned into a wimp. I'd much rather have 24/7 nausea than cramps anytime. I miss being pregnant... no matter how crappy I felt physically, it was just an amazing experience. I was meant to be a mother, I've known it for as long as I can remember. In kindergarten, we had a career day. Everyone else went as lawyers, doctors, firefighters, teachers, etc. I went as a mommy. I don't know how people can say that parenting isn't a real job, or that it's even an obligation. My 16 year-old cousin in Switzerland said to me "I think this is the most beautiful job". I couldn't have said it better!

I'm wearing: Hooters tee, flannel bottoms, monkey socks, butterfly slippers
I'm listening to: The story of my life *Bif Naked*
I'm thinking: I wish someone was online