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I feel foolish writing into an abyss. What makes me think I'm so special that people will want to read about my life. Do I actually think people will read about my life? Do I care? Blogging is stupid. But so is keeping a journal. I am finding everything stupid lately.
Summer has basically arrived, and my days have been delightful. Am I the only one that feels beautiful in the sun, despite my freckles? Today I went with Travis to the beach, and we watched the sunset. We talked about the things going on in our lives, and the fight we recently had. Things have really been sailing along nicely for me lately. Is it selfish of me to believe it has much to do with my not speaking to my mother for the past month?
I went to the doctor, for my follow up appointment. Apparently I am a classic depressive, and have a serious anxiety disorder. It is his belief that once I am medicated for these two things, my "seizures" will cease. Cross your fingers for me. So, I guess I am not crazy as I had feared, I am relatively normal in fact.