Packing is second priority

   So what happens when you find yourself with less than five hours before you fly across the country to California for what could possibly be the best weekend experience you might ever have? Well, if your name is Trinity, you procrastinate packing and you begin a blog. How's that for an attention getter?

   I'm still suffering from camp withdraws. Two months of living in close quarters with college kids, young kids, trees, raccoons, and Lilly Lake does something to a girl. I miss endless hiking possibilities/ endless opportunities to tread on forbidden ground. I miss only having to walk a few feet to be consumed humidity and know that everyone else looks and feels just as sticky so why even make an attempt to shower. I miss cuddling in the staff lounge while watching Community even though some people don't approve of it (the cuddling and/ or Community). I miss the multitudes of you.

   I know I'm not the first to say it, or even scream it, but goodness do I HATE DEPRESSION. I hate how it holds you down like heavy chain. Never wanting to wake up. Never feeling like you're good enough. Never accepting the love others are putting out in boundless amounts. The never ending thoughts. Whatever happened to don't worry, be happy Mr. Marley? I wish I had the answer. I wish I had the cure, because I loathe my friends waking up to that pain in the morning and fighting the pain in their dreams. It burns and singes. I don't know if this is my path in life. To constantly face this feeling, but I have to believe it's what my purpose is for right now. I'd rather be the one who loosens the nut and takes the first blast of water than to sit back and watch the house burn to the ground. I don't care about the bruises and battle scars. I just want resolution.
   I don't know why I'm writing. I don't know if it is comprehensible. I don't know who would even bother to read. But I know I'm getting it off my chest and being able to see it laid out. Maybe after that I can devise a plan.