Written last year around this time. From my journal on my computer:
July 17th I will be holding a baseball clinic, game and 5K run to try and raise money for a scholarship fund for my dad, Laura and Chas. In their memory. It's with the Potter Baseball tour - which is a really, really great thing. I know all of this. Yet the days keep coming and the event day is closer and I just keep procrastinating on everything. The memories this riles up - it is supposed to be good, helpful almost. But so far, it isn't. I'm caught in the days passing, flying even, by. Caught in people that care about me wanting to help, yet me not being able to willingly accept it because, it would makes others be bothered. Family drama, drama with my kids, drama with the man I love. There is seriously so much drama, I can't really handle it. I know I am not going to want to do this next year, but I will. Because, how can I not now. The first one hasn't even passed. I know the issues that will come up. They are inevitable. I know I can't avoid them. I am so damn sick of trying so hard to please everyone. In the end, there isn't pleasing everyone - and at some point, you have to wake up and realize that people that are supposed to love and support you and care about you, or not supposed to, but you want them to so damn bad - you just can't will someone to do that.
A small piece of that journal entry. I can feel the pain and hurt from so many angles as I read it again today. As I did the last few days. And here i am again - the weekend of the event. This year other things added to it, with a softball tournament, a new location, more concessions, a host of new issues. I am just constantly on the run. And I love it. Because I can without a doubt make it through if I do not have to think. Come Sunday, July 13th, however, when this is all over, I will be gone. At least until August 16th when I'm forced to go back to work. This place isn't for me. Never was. I should have never come here.
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