I NEED A RETURN TO THE EARTH

I haven't posted in a longwhile, mainly because I've been suicidal. More so than usual. Amoungst the normal 'mental breakdown dramas' I go through, I started a crying fit that I couldn't stop, to the point where I tried to make contact with suicide prevention. Surprisingly hard to get a hold of little buggers. The second happen right before school, where I woke up late and clustered fucked into a breakdown. I told dad it was sinuses, and he let me stay home. ANYWAY. I've spent maybe the entire month in some black pit of metaphoric despire. Which happens to me more often. But as you can tell by the upswing of this post I have reached on of my happy periods. I can't tell if it's one of my 'scary happy' stages, which I can only identify in retrospect, but I'm happy. Last night I watched this documentary on 'Free-birthing' in which a woman gives birth completely unassisted, no midwives or anything, just someoen she loves by her side. They preached that most women in the world aren't privvy to medical care upon birth, that hospitals take control over what is your job. They lay you back, prop your feet up, put up the paper curtian shield, and you can watch in the mirror as they tell you when to push, when to breath, when you're doing a good job, and sometimes numb you to the point where you birth, the most important thing in your life is more like a television show you're watching, disconeccted to the actual world. This is how I feel most of the time. Supervised, Advised, my responsibility taken away, kid-gloved, rose-color glassesed, not worried my pretty little head about it. And I wanted what those free birthing women had. A fuck you to the entire medical field (some even forgoing prenatal exams she was so tramatized by her first birth) On their own, in control, taking care of their child from day .5. And the strange thing was, except for like 1 exception: No one cried in pain. Since they didn't have to push and breath when their doctors said, they just shifted like animals giving birth no 'pant pant pant push' just running on instict, doing what felt natural, smiling for the camera, a little flushed, but looking oh so pleased and at peace, not harried, worried or pained, and the babies all popped out, healthy and not crying (except interestingly, the one baby belonging to the woman who screamed and breathed in her pregnacy) They would just come out, squeak, and cuddle up to their mums, breastfeeding. The women didn't look worn or exhausted, just smilely, a little tired. Some even went out that afternoon, or got up and showered. Like it was a normal routine.

That moved me. To say 'I'm not doing this right, and it is so much better wrong' approach. To go agaisnt your conditioning, your implanted common sense, and run with the instincts. I've listened to my heart and I have discern a few noble truths:

School IS bad. It's just not teenage angst, I'm not going to look back on these as the best years of my life. The system is flawed, the teaching is flawed, it is suffocationg, it's draining, it's horrible, and the grades mean as much as paper money in monoply. You learn little, memorize a lot. A classroom training parrots. Opinions are the ones you should have, not the ones you do. It is killing me and I'm removing myself from the poison. I will do my 7 hours, and no more, unless I feel that I am learning something. Unless I WANT to put forth the effort.

I NEED to exercise. It keeps me sane. it makes me happy I loved the 58 degrees the god put upon us today, I took kess out for a walk, I felt the wind, and was glad I stopped convincing myself to do the 'right' thing and stay home and study/clean/catch-up on things.

I CANNOT write whenever I want, but instead it's best before school in the early mornings with everyone asleep. I learn from writing, I respect it and it deserves my attention. I will get up an extra hour early to devote time to my writing. That's a responsibility I need. Not School itself.

I WILLNOT revert into passivity. I will bug dad to teach me driving, I will nag, I will bitch I will moan, because THAT is the only thing that gets things done. I have a predespotion to be ignored. I will shout, yell, and claw to get my way. Because that is what I need to do.

I WILL go back to my hippy newage music. My side bars of punk, rap, R&B, music I enjoyed but not loved has consumed my shuffle, taken over the folksy, less cool music that soothes my nerves.

WRITING, EXERCISE, MEDITATION WILL COME BEFORE ALL OTHER THINGS, MY MENTAL AND PHYSICAL HEALTH IS WORTH MORE THAN A COLLEGE DEGREE, A NEW BEST FRIEND, OR MONEY.

I will get a job like I've been saying for two years. I will earn and save a paycheck. I will move out, I will have plants I will have a garden and there is no such thing as I CAN'T or UNWISE DESCION, YOUR DESIRE.

I NEED TO RETURN TO THE EARTH, MY INSTICTISM OVER REALISM, BUT REALITY HAS BEEN COMPRIMISED.