Every time I sign in and attempt to write a new blog entry, I am, more or less, speechless. I don't really know why. And here's the part where I would usually write in and say what I was speculating as to the reason, and usually I would stumble upon the answer throughout the process of speculating. But I don't even have that.

So why am I writing? Because I'm hoping that by just sitting down and actually typing something instead of picking a topic first and going might inspire me to begin writing about something.

I guess I should just write about me. As I mentioned in one of my previous entries, I tend to ramble on and on about what I think in this blog when it's titled "The Life of JNP." Which has been hard for me, because, quite honestly, I get nervous about who might read this! I just must be a secretive person, since there's close to nothing I can tell everyone I know. When it comes to one part of my life, I can always tell someone, but not everyone. And looking at it now, it's not becauase I lead an excessively dramatic life, or because all the people in my life are really extreme (so I could tell maybe the really crazy people about my crazy life [let's pretend for a moment that I have one] and the super conservative ones about my morals.) You know why? Because I'm not confident in myself at all!

Well, now that this blog entry is getting long and a little drawn out, I can feel pretty safe that anyone who doesn't give a crap about me or find me interesting will have stopped reading by now. So I'm going to take a leap of faith and tell about myself. On a public web page, that can potentially be accessed by anyone who has the internet. Even though very few will read it, it's still a risk. And I'm gonna take it! RIGHT NOW!

So, stuff is happening in my life right now. I suppose I could label this as a transition period for me, because the way I see and feel about EVERYTHING is changing. I am changing as a person. And though I know it's for the better, I'm still scared. Because ever since I sank into the depths of uncertainty as a child, I had hope for the day I'd turn it all around. The day I'd learn how to immerse myself into the moment, the day I'd learn motivation and perseverance. The day I'd become successful. Daydreams tended to take all shapes and forms, including me handing my dad a report card with straight A's written on it, or me way far in the future getting a Ph.D in something science. Me in a group of people who all actually liked me, and me being included in the action. Me transforming from the invisible girl to someone who had an identity and a place in the social world. Me--living life the way I really, truly, deeply, want to.

Anyway, I've had hopes for the day when that would come. And now that the transition has started, though I'd actually never expected it to actually do so, I am scared. Why? Because it's the moment of truth that determines whether or not my hope sand dreams will actually come true. The reality is, I've never stepped out into the open because of my fear of failure. Because all I can think about is the humiliation that I would have to face at that moment when I'd find out I'd come short, and how everyone, including myself, and I everyone I shared my hopes and dreams with would marvel at how I could have ever thought that I could do it.

On the other side, I am ecstatic as my life changes slowly but surely. I am so excited that I can actually be in a group of people and talk now! I am amazed that I can sit down for ten or twelve hours straight and do homework. I am proud of myself for taking charge in lab for the first time in my lab group, and being the one who knows most about what is going on. I wanted to jump all the way to the moon when someone said something to me in public to put me down, and it simply bounced off of me. Because, for the first time I can remember, I had enough of a sense of self to not care about other's pathetic attempts to push me down to make themselves feel more secure.

I am far from being "fixed," so to speak. I am not even close to being done changing, or even close to where I want to be. But yes, I am changing. The ball is rolling, as my dad would say. For the first time in a long time, I'm happy. I actually wake up every morning excited to go through another day. I have gotten over my sleeping disorder, which is absolutely fabulous--I had it for six years. I don't know if it was due to depression, because I didn't think I was depressed, but maybe I was stressed out and unhappy. Now, I have energy! I have enthusiasm for my life, now: not just the future I'd hoped would come someday. I don't have to spend months bottling up my emotions until I finally explode, and cry until I throw up. I don't ever feel the need to cry--if I have to bottle up anything, it's excitement! And usually I don't have a problem finding a time to express that. Or even someone to express it with.

Ever heard that Garth Brooks song "Standing Outside the Fire?" Fabulous song. In fact, I'll link it right here so my explanation preceding this sentence makes sense. http://www.allspirit.co.uk/fire.html

K, so I've been standing outside the fire. And now I think I'm taking a chance and stepping in. Maybe I'll get burned--maybe I'll fail, and maybe I'll end up bearing more scars than I'd ever thought imagineable. But maybe I'll end up happy. Maybe, I'll end up proud of myself, and fulfilled. Maybe I'll find my place.

So here it goes. I'm going to list my most out there hopes and dreams. I know I could fail, and I realize now that it doesn't matter. How many people actually reach their highest set goals? Okay, maybe a lot, but I'm going to make a goal to not hate myself if I don't reach my goals if I try them, because trying to reach them will be the greatest gift I've ever given myself. Maybe even the first one in a very, very long time.

So. In my wildest, craziest, most ideal dreams I want to be a doctor. I'm not sure which kind yet, though I really wouldn't mind being a general practitioner. Why would I want to be a doctor? Number one, because I love science, particularly chemistry and biology. Anything that has to do with life, and especially the human body, fascinates me. And no, I am not grossed out at all by blood, or muscular tissue, or broken bones. I do get nauseous when I smell vomit, but I can hopefully get over that. I took three times the amount of science classes required in highschool, and had a reputation among the science staff at my highschool for being "the girl who took every science class offered." My favorite of all was microbiology, which is why I'm majoring in microbiology in college. And when we did our cadaver lab for physiology class, I was transfixed for the entire five hours. I know that the fact that it's a dead person freaks a lot of people out, but I personally spent the entire time marveling at the machine God gave this person that enabled him to experience life for ninety-two years. Really, our bodies are machines for experience. Everything we see, feel--everything we do is through our bodies. They are truly amazing.

And the second reason is because when I was asked if I could do anything in the entire world for twenty four hours and what I would do, what popped into my mind was the image of Jesus touching anyone with any ailments at all and healing them. My easy answer was that I would have hands that would heal anyone I touched, and I would just go everywhere I could possibly go and touch people and heal them. What an experience that would be! It would make me soooooo happy, and it would give me hope that acts of love can make all the pain in the world go away. I know this could never happen; obviously, I'm not Jesus. But what is the next best thing to that dream? Being a doctor, of course! I know it wouldn't work every time. I know that I would have to deal with people who wouldn't make it, and I would be the one who would have to tell people they were going to die, or that their loved ones had passed away. But here's the thing. Sometimes, it would help. Even just once would be worth everything in the world.

I know that it's hard to become a doctor. I know it's probably impossible for me. I know that the average GPA of accepted applicants is 3.7, and mine isn't even close to that. I know that only one out of three medical school applicants are accepted. But I still have hope. I'm only a sophomore. I haven't applied myself yet; I haven't failed out of college being pretty damn close to a limp log. What, then, could I accomplish if I worked up a dripping sweat?

If I don't get in, it'll suck. I know. But I have to try. I have to try for something; I have to believe in myself. Because if I don't, who will?

Anyway, I just successfully wrote another exceedingly long blog entry. I suppose that could be my trademark. The girl who can talk people's ears off on the internet. Haha. To anyone who read this, thanks for listening.