One of these days we're going to find my sister's body in a ditch, and we won't be surprised at all. My dad had to go hunting for Miranda again last night after someone called saying they knew where she was. Well, he got into the parking lot at that apartment complex, and Miranda and a bunch of dimwits ran into one of the apartments and locked the door behind them. My dad had come prepared with a big-ass stick, and when they wouldn't let him in, he pounded and pounded and ended up kicking the door in. Go Dad! I really didn't think he was capable of that kind of rage! But that girl just manages to bring it out in anyone. I remember one time when we were younger... we shared a wall between our rooms. She would continuously make noises through the wall and drive me crazy. One night, she kept knocking on the wall when I was trying to go to sleep. She wouldn't stop so I kicked a hole in the wall. Accidentally! She still kept it up, so I tried going into her room. She had it locked and wouldn't let me in no matter how much I yelled at her. I think I ended up breaking the joints of the door apart and putting a few holes in it. Yes, she's THAT frustrating. Anyway, some notes were found that she wrote to someone else... very explicit details about sexual acts she's been performing and whatnot. She's been skipping school and air cadets... she's on the verge of getting kicked out of that; seargants do not skip cadets for weeks at a time! My dad has just about given up on her. Finally, he's starting to realize she's not going to change! Why are parents the last to see things for what they are?

I had my very last physio session today. Tegan came in my room to take some electrodes off my shoulder and said "Now don't you start crying about leaving here!" She's such a sweetie. I really don't feel like my shoulder's in decent condition though, so I'm going to try to do as many of the exercises as possible here at home. I don't have a pulley system, but I can manage the rest. This is the first time in MONTHS that I don't have any scheduled appointments. I feel like something's lacking, like I'm going to sleep in and realize I've missed another session or check-up/test. I haven't gotten a call-back for my ultrasound yet, so I'm getting quite frustrated with this town. I also have to remember to schedule a follow-up next month so my doctor can see how much the Zoloft has been fucking with my system and to make sure my baby-maker is all healthy again. I think I spent about 65% of today just thinking about Brayden. I have to admit I get depressed about it the most while at my physiotherapy sessions. Just laying there on a table in a hospital gown, with my hands resting on my tummy for 15 minutes during my shock-treatment thing. There's nothing else to do but think.

I'd be into my second trimester by now... I'd be popping out, and in a few weeks I'd able to feel Brayden moving around, grooving to all my awesome music choices. I've come a long way since last month. I didn't think I'd be able to pull myself out of that dark place. I'm not anywhere normal yet, but I've learned to accept so many things. This was not my fault. Life goes on. I'm eventually going to get an angel tattooed on my shoulderblade so I'll always have my little one watching over me. Okay, I'm thinking far too much about this. New paragraph.

I can't even write anymore...

I'm wearing: Baby tee, double button-fly flares, star socks, fleece robe
I'm listening to: Dressed to kill *New Found Glory*
I'm thinking: Oi vey