Stay Alive
It's been a year since Mom went home. Life's been tough. Life is weird. I feel like I'm trying to get my head screwed back on after nearly a year of confusion, self infliction, and hurt. At this point I'm not even sure if I'm angry at anyone except myself. I'd like to be excited about starting over in my hometown, but it's been difficult to find enthusiasm in this storm that is still raging inside of me. I'd like to say I've applied what I've learned in the last year to better myself, but I think I'd be exaggerating. They say not all who wander are lost, but it sure feels like I am. I'm convinced that it is not tragedy that makes or break us, but instead the decisions we make in the midst of tragedy that do . I remember wandering aimlessly in the days following my mother's death, feeling like a small helpless child. I wasn't angry or bitter. I was confused. I had never seen the world like I did then. It felt like stepping out of