For What It's Worth.

But it's no sacrifice
No sacrifice
It's no sacrifice at all

Mutual misunderstanding
After the fact
Sensitivity builds a prison
In the final act

We lose direction
No stone unturned
No tears to damn you
When jealousy burns

I know this world isn't fair. I know life sucks and then you die.

But I never knew that I couldn't burn my soul to build my bank.

I just can justify what I am doing anymore. Patient's who need me can't have me. Patients that don't need me can have me all the time.

Because they make "us" money. They pay our bills. They are families who can't take care of their own children because someone has always paid for them to have someone like me.

And it makes me feel like shit.

I could spend a million nights doing nothing if I knew that by doing nothing I was making a difference. But I can't spend one more night doing nothing when nothing I do will ever help.

Where is the justice in this world? Am I the only one left who can't swallow my struggle. How can my supervisors do this? How can they leave those voicemails? make those schedules? how can they forget what it means to have a conscious?

Why can't I tell them I won't do it anymore? Why can't I take a stand.

I keep trying to make this better. I keep trying to make it work but I have to admit that I don't know what will make it better. I can't stay and be swallowed. But I can't leave and be drowned. I can't fix this. I could never fix this. But I can take myself away.

All I Want For Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth)

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.
Just like the ones I use to know.

I had a one day nervous breakdown 2 days ago. It began with a complete temper tantrum at 8am and was completed by me driving to the drug store at 3am to buy 2 trashy magazines and a pregnancy test.

Why did I think I was pregnant? I have no idea. Apparently, somewhere in that part of my brain that medication is supposed to control I thought that using 2 forms of birth control and the fact that I am not even expecting my period until next week meant that I was of course pregnant.

I am of course, not.

And not just because some stupid test told me. Because I got my period.

All week I have wanted nothing more than to go back to being 5. Not that being 5 was especially easy for me.

But being a grown up is so harder. Harder than I ever thought.

I don't want to be responsible, I don't want to pay bills, I don't want to have a job, I don't want to have to answer to anyone.

I want to stay in my pj's all day watching Christmas specials and eating junk food.

Without worrying about getting fat.

When do the good parts of being a grown-up start to outweigh the bad?

Maybe tomorrow.