So Take Too Many Pictures, Laugh Too Much...

Life is way too short.

So much has happened in the past few weeks that it is incredible to begin to process. It unfortunately took a death of a friend for me to realize that what I went through this summer cannot consume me. I have a life to live and I have been taking advantage of way too much, specifically time.

I've taken time for granted. I keep thinking to myself that this will pass...all I need is time. It's going to be a rough couple of months and I won't be exactly myself. That part is mostly true. But the way I looked at it was not something I am proud of.

I wish I could have opened my eyes earlier and realized that being out of place is part of the process of cope and acceptance, but I should NEVER allow it to come between me and my life...which is exactly what I've been allowing it to do.

I've always been the one with positive thoughts, who saw the cup half full, who saw the world as a good place with some strides being made every day for improvements. It's not until something this drastic and serious and personal hits you do you realize that perhaps the only reason I have always been so optimistic was because I've never walked those hundred rugged miles that someone else may be walking right now.

And I want to walk alongside with them so badly. But it is impossible, not to mention unnecessary. In fact, the world would be much better off if I didn't. I'm not sure how to explain it. If you'd like to know the entire story, find me somewhere on campus and I'll tell you (on a good day). But this is something better not posted on the world wide web.

So the dilemma here is this: there's a moral obligation of being someone's rock. Not necessarily supporting their actions. In fact, I am trying to think of ways to discourage this individual from following through with their plans. That puts me at risk as well. The other side of the moral dilemma is sitting back anddoing nothing at all...because the reality is that there is NOTHING I can do. Absolutely nothing. So should I accept the facts and move on, hoping that it won't take too much of a toll on my conscience (which I am quite certain it will).

The question here is comparable to an 800 pound gorilla in the room. It will NEVER go away. I've exhausted all my resources as well. I've talked to best friends, professors, professionals, even a stranger at a nursing home. The conclusion? Well, there is no single one.

The bottom line? I need to sleep. Eat. Socialize. Not perpetually lose so much weight. Or sleep again. I need to get my life back in order. Our hierarchy of needs hads a physiological base. I'm not even getting the basics of life down...keeping my body running.

Speaking of which, that's the only thing I've really done consistently: running for a half hour or 45 minutes every morning. It's refreshing and those endorphins help me focus my thoughts to the more important things. It's a good quick-fix. I'm glad I've been keeping up with that.

I have more motivation than ever to keep going. I reached a turning point, and I am in tears from happiness.


Peace,
Asil