Living and Learning

It was an interesting weekend to say the very least.

I ended up not being dd for the party Saturday night, which led to my sprawling out on the front porch and entertaining my sober friends for most of the evening until I was taken home around 1 in the morning.

My roommate had to go in my car back to school because she was sobbing uncontrollably about things she should have been telling a therapist ruther than telling a bunch of people, many of whom she barely knows.

On Sunday the poor girl went out to lunch with the Glee Club, and I guess went over to the stables where one of the girls keeps her horse. She rode the horse, and ended up falling off. She's alright, other than a scrape and some bruises, which is much better than it could have been. It was a traumatic weekend for her.

I feel bad because I have no patience with people who feel sorry for themselves, and no patience with people who can't see that everything is going to be okay.

It doesn't matter how much I've been through in my short life, no one believes me when I tell them everything is always going to be okay. No matter what happens, everything will be alright. I'm trying very hard to be patient with her, but she doesn't have a spinal cord injury or a broken bone or brain damage. She is scraped up a bit.

The only time I ever got noticed for being hurt was when I broke my arm in the fifth grade, everything else kind of blends together. I was ignored if I cried about a scrape, or anything that wasn't life or death or permanent damage.

I'm trying really hard to be understanding that other people function differently than I do, which I suppose is one of the most important lessons in life.