The amount of sleep I am getting is never enough. I am always so tired. I think I've just completely exhausted my brain. I've explored every situation and scenario more than I should, spending far too much time analyzing and coming up with solutions.

LET GO.

Well, I'm trying. I promise. There's only so much I can accomplish all at once. There's a battle going on, constantly.

I remember the talks I would have with my Mom when I was younger about spiritual warfare. There's always something going on behind the scenes, good constantly battling evil. This could be a pretty good indicator of where my fatigue is coming from.

There is so much back and forth that I feel like I'm going a little bit nutty. I've talked to a couple of friends about it, well... the gist of things, and they all have the same reaction. I've explained as much as I can about the past, present, and the foreseeable future, and they all say be done. Walk away. I wish it were that easy.

I had dinner with Jess the other night, and I always love catching up with her. She has tough love down to an art, and she never sees a whole lot of gray area. There's a lot of comfort knowing I have exactly ONE friend who was there for all of it. Beginning, middle, end. We were friends in high school when mom first got sick. She was the only friend who came to sit with me in the hospital. She came to the funeral. She was there.

I'm not her bestest best friend, but she was still there. I don't know why it's so important to me to have a friendship like I've seen so many others have. I'm sure it comes across as pathetic and redundant, but I crave it nonetheless. My family life has been consistently strained for as long as I can remember. The degree of that strain has varied year to year, but it's always been there. I just want to feel that love. I want to be needed, and not just when there's a problem. Needed for happy.

I am hoping that God's plan really does include a future spouse...who in turn will be the friend my heart is needing.

-OR-

I can pray for contentment in being alone. I can pray that the friendship I crave can become little more than a whisper, fulfilled over and over again by Jesus. In a spiritual sense, He has been and always will be my closest friend. I suppose it is the earthly hopes that keep me bound to that idea. Girl talk and secret sharing and giggle moments. All of those things without a melancholy torture in the back of my mind reminding me that I'm different than they are. They have someone they prefer over me. Somebody else knows more of their secrets. Why does that matter?!?!?! It just does.

BLARGH.

I have to make another doctor's appointment. I haven't written about any of the recent complications, but they are on-going. I know what I'm talking about. Girl problems. Right.

Tomorrow is Sunnie's 28th birthday. Family dinner :) Dad will have to speak to me! Or maybe not... I hope so. Living with him has become beyond difficult. I don't feel at home in my home, and I want to find a way out. He loves my dogs, and when I try to find alternative people to watch over them for me, he gets upset, saying he is more than capable. PROBLEM: his fence is falling apart, and he has no desire to repair it. I lack the skills, but I'm willing to try. There's only so much you can do with duct tape and rocks...

Because Dodger is an escape artist, Dad has decided that he doesn't want to let the dogs out to go to the bathroom anymore. What's the other option? Oh yes. They poop and pee all over the house. This is not rocket science. I go out and stand with them while they're outside, so Dodger wouldn't even THINK about trying to get out. Dad doesn't want to do that. Even though he's already outside in the garage smoking himself to death... the extra two steps would do him in.

The other night I came home, and as I walked in the door, Dad mutes the TV (That I pay for) and says -- without so much as a greeting -- "I was working in my music room (which is an empty bedroom with a guitar in it) and your dogs went in and pooped and peed everywhere. You have work to do." Aaaaand... the tv is back on. End of conversation. Instantly my throat constricted and I wanted to sob. No, no.... don't cry. Just keep going. The kitchen is trashed again and there is peanut butter and orange peels EVERYWHERE. Just clean it all up and go back to your room. This is the extent of our interactions lately. It's lovely.

Dodger needs to run, so I can't legitimately go back to apartment living. Not only that, but with the medical issues I'm facing paired with my inability to get insured... my money is unavailable to find a decent place to live. Rock. Hard place. Stuck... I've never felt more isolated. I'm becoming a hermit, and I'm not entirely torn apart by it. Willingly deciding to stay at home is a lot better than being left at home. Word.