But that's fine. See, the homeschool program I do is kind of a last chance school for a lot of kids that go there, so the grading curve is insane. Ok, so they track your progress in percentages and you're supposed to do a certain percentage of your classwork every week, but anything over 80% is extra credit. Follow? So basically, if I get to eighty, I can do nothing the rest of the year and still pass with 90s in all my classes. So yeah, I haven't done any schoolwork hardly the last few days.
A deacon at my former church passed away this morning. He'd been a deacon since I was eight or so, like ten years. He'd been having health issues lately. so he stepped down. Then the doctors told him he had really advanced cancer and there was nothing they could do for him. But here's the thing that angers me. While he was alive my mom and her whole church was all like 'God will raise up his servant' 'The Great Physician can heal him' And now that he's dead, all I'm hearing is 'It was his time' 'God has called home his servant'. Like, you can't take life so passively. If he had lived, they would have called it god's plan, but he died so obviously that was god's plan. Like, they just accept whatever and it pisses me off that someone can be so passive about their life.
I knew him well, though.And his grandson is my sister's boyfriend, so we're pretty close to the family. I mean, anytime someone who's been a constant figure in your life, even if only on the peripheral, passes away, it's hard. I kept crying at work and I tried to hold it in and at one point Andrew asked me what was wrong and I was crying and trying to explain it to him and he was like 'Do you need a hug? You need a hug, c'mere' And it was really sweet. And Ashley just kept asking me all night if I was ok because I told her about it when I got there and I was bawling and she hugged me and was like 'Anything you need tonight, tell me. If you need to go sit down somewhere for a while, just go do it" And I just really appreciate the people I work with. But yeah, work was rough. I did get Saturday off to go to his funeral, though, so there's that.
I have this necklace that's a bird in a cage and I work it tonight, thinking nothing about it. Then Andrew asked me later if there was any meaning behind it. I just kind of hem-hawed my way out of it, but it got me thinking. Now this is going to sound depressing and melodramatic, but I'm depressed and melodramatic, so whatever. In a way, it's like I am the caged bird. Even though I live a different life than my family, I still have theie expectations, and people's view of me, and society's view of me, and my view of myself. and on top of that I have my fears and my insecurities and my anxieties and the fact that most of the time I want to slit my wrists and hang myself. And all that cages me in and I'm scared to actually live my life, because I'm too scared. I fear falling, so I never try to fly. Like I said, melodramatic and depressing, but maybe with a hint of truth?
But I'm tired and it's been a physically and emotionally exhausting day, so I'm going to bed.
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