Break Me Out - The Rescues

 Today, I was in "honors" aspire (homeroom in the lunchroom) and it was abonormally loud. I was writing more to the story I'm working on - I won't lie, I'm impatient and would like to just cut it off, but I have to stretch my patience so I won't cut it off (much). I had my iPod on shuffle since I had no clue what I wanted to listen to. (I woke up to Kate Voegele, but changed it to the new Korn where Skrillex is featured in most of the songs.)

This song came on, and I turned it up. I was alone at my table. My friend had to go practice for ... something. Forensics, I think - or pep band. My other friend sits at the table next to mine, but I don't mind being alone, especially when I'm writing. It's easier to focus.

But I was sitting alone, with my black earbuds in and 11,177 songs on shuffle. It was loud enough that I'm sure people around me could hear, but I didn't care. I couldn't hear them, and I love the song.

I sat, listening to the music, looking around and observing people while I finished up the part of my story I was working on. I love watching people, and I'd like to do it more often, but I also love staying in my room, listening to music and being alone.

"The walls are cavin' in
With no warning,
This shit is sinkin'
I gotta swim for it,
I'm runnin' out of air.

Break me out tonight,
I wanna the
sun risin' anywhere but here,
Come with me,
This could be
The only chance we get..."

I got accepted to Columbia in Chicago, and it would be great to go there, but expensive. And a little scary. My sister's ex-brother-in-law (the one with the stupid daughter)'s girlfriend lives in Chicago. My step mom's son and his spouse live in a suburb there, as well. It'd be great, but I'm not sure it's exactly what I want. (It might be what I need, though!)

But wherever I end up, it won't be here. I've promised myself that much and I always back out of my promises to myself - because I'm afraid. I won't do it this time, even if I cry from the fear for weeks, or months, or years. I am not staying here, no matter how much I want to - because I'd only want to because of my sister. If I had it my way, she would move, her boyfriend would move, I'd live with them while I went to school, they'd get married (because if they broke up, I'd be super sad - I actually like her boyfriend! He's def a keeper.) and I'd eventually be in my own place once I got the money. I'd have friends, I'd have a life, but my friends would also have study dates so we didn't flunk out or anything. (I have too much time to think. It always gets me in trouble, emotionally. Therapy might be good - I'd be getting advice from someone certified to give it, and I wouldn't be alone.)

That'll never happen though. I'll either end up in Chicago, alone and scared until I made friends, which apparently happens quickly in college (or so I've heard from several of my friends who are in college now - they'd know best.). Or, I'll end up in Georgia, living with my dad, struggling to make friends, no guidance or support from my sister, wishing I could afford therapy... I hope it's not too late to apply to more schools in Georgia. Even if it's a few hours away... I'll still make friends, and I'll still be able to come home. Like my dad's friends' daughter (well, my friend, too).

This song, though... I feel it. I'm suffocating here. It might just be this town, or this region, or the fact that I feel so chained and restricted by my parents, but it doesn't matter. I'm suffocating. If I don't leave soon, I'm going to die. Or, at the very least, become crippled and broken and not who I want to be. Every night, even when I don't feel like going out, I wish I were in a different place. A different house, a different city, a different state, a different country...

I am thankful that my family puts up with me. I'm thankful for the friends I've made and the support of all my teachers and the other adults in my life. But sometimes... sometimes support is confused with limits. It's a push and pull, with my parents.

They want me to go out, have a life, get a job, be independent, but every time I want to do something along those lines, they act like it's something that'll kill me. And this would be something I'd need to talk about to a psychiatrist. But that won't happen.

I'm not backing out and letting myself down again. It's time for me to grow up, get stronger, be braver and experience things my family will never understand and learn things they'll never know. Age is a number, my days are limited, and if I end up worse in debt than our country, so be it. At least I'd have lived.