It's hard to believe that a month ago I was turning twenty, I was writing finals, I was getting ready to go home. It might have been a million years for all I know. I've only been back from home a week, and it feels like I was never there at all. And everything makes me sad; spending the afternoon by myself because I got ditched, not having heard a thing from my sister all week, being so far from home. I (stupidly) counted the days until my trip in June and now I feel daunted and sad. I'm tired of second-guessing my decision to come out here and do this, but I'm tired of missing home. And I'm just tired.

My mom would call going to bed at ten o'clock a classic sign of depression, and she'd be entirely right, but right now I have no idea how else to deal with myself.