I have the bad aftertaste of frozen pizza in my throat.
There are a million and one things that I want to talk about, but I have neither the time nor the words to express them. With that being said, I accompanied my mom to Hackley's Neuroscience Center today, where she got a CAT-scan, an EEG, lab work, and got to speak with a nurse and a psychiatrist. My mom suffers from undiagnosed mental illness, so hopefully this will provide the family with answers to the questions we have simply learned to live with. In truth, I don't know that it will change the way things are or even tell us what she has. I also had to answer questions from the nurse and social worker about my mom's condition. It seemed like they were under the impression that it was a memory issue, which it's not. My mom's memory is better than mine in fact. When I said it was a paranoia issue they just sort of responded: "Oh?" Nevertheless, I hope that whoever analyizes the EEG will be able to look at it and say "yes, the brain activity here indicates suspicious behaviour. She has ______. Give her _______." Of course the answers are never that certain. Or easy. Part of me is concerned for my mom's well being. I mean, what kind of life is that, if there is constantly an internal struggle going on in your head between reality and fantasy? The other part of me wants answers for my sake and for my sister's sake. What kind of lives will we lead if we "inherit" whatever it is that my mom has? I certainly would not be able to keep a job very well, which would make it hard to raise a family sucessfully. If we know what she has, we will know what to look out for, what treatments may be available. Without that, it feels kind of like a time bomb waiting to go off. I feel this pressure like I have to accomplish a lot and make my fortune before I'm 40 because after that everything is just going to go downhill. It scares me because it makes me paranoid that I'm paranoid, or have the potential to be. It's like if you're colorblind, you're not going to know you're colorblind until a doctor tells you. Of course there is a very large chance, probably about 90%, that I am a completely normal messed up human being and will contine to be so until my old, old age (no one else in my mom's family suffers from the same conditions, aside from extreme anxiety). I wish the answers to life were easier, but they're not.

In addition to all of this, I've been feeling extremely pessimistic lately, feeling pissed off and judgemental toward people I don't even know. It's terrible. That's another thing. I hide all my emotions behind this careless facade, being careful not to reveal anything. The only problem, besides the obvious bottling of emotions, is when I try to express geniune emotions of excitement, enthusiuasm, joy, they fail me. My motto lately has been "be a Christian." Somewhere along the lines I've stopped doing simple things like saying "God Bless you" and holding doors for strangers and doing random good deeds and praying. Church here is a joke for me. I get absolutely nothing out of it. Yet, I am anchored to the Catholic church because of my upbringing and associations. I won't lie: as much as I get nothing out of it, I think Catholicism is better than your religion. All of the elaborate traditions, carefully constructed prayers, and meticulous pieces of doctrine, conjoined with the empty, half-assed words said by thousands of fallen Catholics like me each week is somehow better. Yes, I do not see the logic in that either. But I shouldn't say it's Catholicism that isn't working for me as much as it is the church in Muskegon. I cannot wait to go back to Loyola and be at the very first 10:00pm student mass of the year. Even if my faith is lacking, seeing all those other young faces there is encouraging, to say the least.

As much as I want that picture perfect life with the happy ending like in the movies, this is real life. I am doomed to exist in this mediocre shell, dwelling on problems like these until I find the strength to either end it or rise up and face these and many more challenges.

Now I only have 999,999 things left to talk about.

Do you want to play with fire?