I don’t recognize myself anymore. The Paige before…I don’t know how the hell she did the things that she did. I am unable to make the simplest of decisions. I don’t have a shower curtain because I can’t commit to one I like. I flood my bathroom each morning, I’ve returned 2 and have lost hours searching bathroom stores for something so simple and necessary. I’m stressed over the smallest things. And people are noticing. I was told by a stranger that "yoga would do me good...to loosen me up a bit..." she wasn't referring to my flexibility.

I’m concerned: I’m broken; I’m outdated. I’m a typewriter missing pieces. Even if we can find salvaged pieces, is it really worth fixing? It’s a typewriter. Made obsolete by the computer, it’s not old or cool enough to be considered retro, and far from being a valued antique. Ya, I’m feelin' a little typewriterish lately, or a BetaMax, remember Beta? *chuckle*, insert moment of Hofer family pride here, The Hofers bought the VHS when so many others didn’t. Too bad soo sad Dafoe Family. (hehe)

Before last year…everything's vague. My life in Kamloops. Every now and then I’ll flashback or have waves of moments roll over me. It really is like waves, and the reaction of emotions are so strongly different, they collide, smash together, spray everything and then rush away carrying with them all little traces of footprints.

I wonder when this despicable feeling sorry for myself will end? It’s crippling. It grabs on you and pulls you down. You don’t even realize it has a hold on you until you find yourself fighting to climb back up and you realize then just how far you've slipped down.