Ever feel like you're trapped inside some small box that you just cannot get out of? That's how I was feeling today. It seems to me that I feel this, and feel it this intensely, every month-to-two-months or so. It's a scary, scary feeling. I don't like it. Nope. Not at all.

I'm not sure what sets it off, though I'm thinking it might simply be being unhappy with life. Today I was just feeling sick of everything, feeling trapped in my life, in my body, trapped by the people around me and the house I'm in and the city I live in. Maybe it comes from this desire to be independent, to be that metaphorical 'island unto himself'. I don't know why I'm like that. I just've always been, as far as I can remember. I want to be able to survive alone, by myself, not have to be responsible for anything or anyone else, not have to depend on people to live. And then it just hits me that I will never, ever be truly independent. It's a fantasy of the imagination, some targetless longing in me that I can never fill.

Sometimes it hits me when I go for a walk. I see all these people drive by, and I get so frustrated that I can't go anywhere and just be alone for a while. When I lived in the dorms, I felt the same way. I was trapped in that building; I had to be around those people 24/7. Then I moved to Fort Nelson for the year and lived with a friend's family. I just could not relax unless I was in my room, because I always felt like a guest, not a member of the household. That was my own problem, I have no doubt. But it is so hard for me! The feeling subsided once I got my car. At least then I could temporarily escape if I needed to. I loved that.

Now I have no car, and I live in a crappy one-bedroom basement suite with my roomate. He's a good guy, but it is just so hard for me to be around someone for such a long period of time and not have anywhere to go to be alone. Add to that that if I ever need to go into town, I have to rely on borrowing his jeep or catching a lift with him.

And then today rolls around, and I feel so crappy anyway, and I just want some peace and quiet, some alone time, and a bajillion and one people come over -- into a house that basically has no doors. Sweet mother of all that is good and sane. I'm losing my mind.

I want to just cheerfully admit this is God working on me. But I'm not cheerful. And I don't want to admit it, or just give in and go with it. I want my way. I want my rights to be respected. I want to be selfish, for crying out loud. So terrible, I know. I know, I know!

God ... help me. At least give me some strength to learn from all this and grow from all this.