Neglectful In My Posting.

To my dearly devoted readers,

It's been quite obvious that I've been remiss in my posting duties lately. School has become the focus of my life these days. Between classes and extra work outside of class hours I find myself with precious little time to do much relaxing. When I'm not at school I'm at work for the weekends and I never have a day off. As a result I'm feeling a bit thin. Happy, but thin. I intended to a take a day off from school a while back, but I just couldn't justify it to myself. On of my new friends from school is dealing with much more than I am and she always makes it to class. It's inspiring and it keeps me going day after day.

On the subject of "keeping going" I wanted to share with you something. We were assigned the task of writing a short piece on a mentor. Of all the writing projects I've had to work on this one really stumped me. I think it's because I've never had an official mentor in a way you might immediately think of. No sports or club leaders that sought to make me a better person. I did start to think about my dad and the role he plays in my life. As I began writing I found myself weeping pretty steadily. I think I hit the right nerve required to write this piece. Tell me what you think.

I have been on the edge. In the first year of my illness I spent every night before bed contemplating a way out that wouldn’t hurt anyone. It stopped being scary and simply became an exercise I would perform before shutting my eyes and falling asleep. I think back to the days where I would be curled up in the foetal position on the ground, crying and screaming as my skin cracked and bled relentlessly. Back to the days where I would scald my skin for the painful relief it would temporarily grant me. Each and every one of those days my Dad would be at my side.

He became my reason to live and for each day of that year he was the reason I kept going. He has always been the strongest member of our family, making sure there’s food on our tables, clothes on our backs and love in our hearts. I cannot think of anyone else I have ever met with such a strong will. I often feel guilty for arguing with him considering how much he has given me. In the middle of the night, when he had work the next morning I could knock on his door and wake him up so that I didn’t have to be alone on the nights that I didn’t think I could make it. He never denied my company and never told me that he had to get up early.

At this juncture in my life I have no interest in being a parent; however when I think about how my Dad granted me life day after day it makes me stop and think. Stop to think that if I could even have just a shred of that influence on a child’s life then the life I’ve had handed back to me will have purpose.

Every word of it the truth.