in which Bailey figures out her life.

In other words, I realize that in order to achieve my goals, I need to get a really, really, really good SAT score. And a ton of scholarships.

Over the past months my dad has been pushing me to figure out with I want to do after highschool. Next year is my senior year and to say that I have an early case of senioritis is a huge understatement. I have to be a full time student after I graduate due to insurance stuffs and up until about two weeks ago I had no ideas about my life and didn't know what I wanted to do or be or anything. Dad wanting me to get ready to start applying to colleges and do early apps was not helping my ball of stress to diminish.

At all.

So yesterday I sat down and thought about my future. Things I feel strongly about. Things I want to do and this is what I texted my best friend this morning: "So, I'm unloading this on you because if I told my mother she would stress and then my life would be even more hectic. Anyways. I decided what I want to do [with my life]. As of right now I'm considering pediatric endocrinology and becoming a doctor. I figured it all out. I'd major in biology, go to grad school for endo, and then have a three year residency at a hospital, followed by a two year fellowship in the area I want to specialize in. So...I could do this and be a doctor by my 30th birthday. I just don't know if that's what I want yet."

Ladies [and gentlemen, if there are any of you reading this blog, which I sort of doubt], your beloved blog-writer has lost all sense. She's completely crazy, but the weird thing is, this could very possibly work out for her. She got straight A's in her AP bio class freshman year and has always loved science.

(She also likes talking about herself in third person, apparently.)

People always talk about the broke college student, but I'm not even in college yet and I'm already broke. Eep. o_o

2012 summed up.

January first: a new year began. I chose heal as my one little word and didn't realize just how much I would need to remember that word.
January second: the first anniversary of my grandmother's death.
January twenty-fourth: my youngest sister's 6th birthday.
February fifth: my sister's fourteen birthday.
February twenty-third: my brother's eighteenth birthday.
March thirtieth: my second missions trip to Mexico began.
April seventh: I got home from Mexico and the symptoms began.
May twelfth: I saw the Avengers with a dear friend.
May thirteen: Mother's Day and the day that we began to realize how sick I was.
May fourteenth: The day that I finally went to the doctor, was hospitalized, and was diagnosed with Type 1.
May fifteenth: I complain about being in the hospital.
May sixteenth: the doctor finally tells me that I can go home; I say goodbye to a dear friend who moved to France and began his married life with another dear friend.
Juneish: I began to play ultimate frisbee; I develop a crush on [yet another] dear friend.
July fourth: Independence Day; the day my brother decided that I could feasibly become a cannibal.
July fifth: the day I forget my insulin at home whilst going on a short vacation.
August seventh: my sister turns nine; the last day of summer Bible studies with the youth group.
August twenty-ninth: youth group begins again.
September twenty-eighth: my mumsie's birthday.
September twenty-ninth: my dad's birthday.
October fourteenth: I open 'betes buddies [which is in dire need of another post...working on that].
October thirty-first: Halloween; I play Monster Dodgeball with the youth group and dominate.
November first: NaNoWriMo begins; the Tea-Spitters assemble.
November ninth: I go to my first formal dance.
November sixteenth: I win NaNoWriMo.
November somethingorother [aka, I can't remember the date]: I read The Fault in Our Stars and bawl my eyes out. Great book, go read it.
November eighteenth through twenty-second: I go on vacation.
November thirtieth: I finish NaNoWriMo with over 80,000 words; first video chat with the Spitters.
December twenty-first: I turn seventeen.
December twenty-second: I get sick.
December twenty-fourth: I'm still sick; Christmas eve.
December twenty-fifth: Christmas. [still sick, sleep all day]
December thirty-first: Spend the day in San Francisco; finish Divergent and Insurgent. [I am dauntless in case anyone was wondering.]

________________

When I chose the word heal for my one little word, I didn't know how much I would need it. I didn't know that I was going to be diagnosed with a chronic illness. I didn't know that my heart would hurt. I didn't know that my best friend would stop speaking to me. I didn't know that I would be told 'no' by God. 

I did know that I was in need of healing. I knew that I had hurts and pains and aches and general dirtiness in my life that needed to be cleaned and swept out and healed. 

Though the hard times will never be erased from this timeline, I'm going to trust that somewhere down the line, there's a reason for all this pain.  Because He makes beautiful things out of the dust and rubble of our lives and because if He promises pain it can't be meaningless. 

2013 will have it's own challenges. I'm going to be a senior, so I'll be taking the SAT and apply for colleges. I'm going to be an intern at my youth group, so I'll be planning events and conquering my fear of public speaking. I have decisions to make and I don't know if I'm ready. I don't have a word yet. Maybe I won't have one at all this year. I don't know yet, but I do know that I'm ready to face this new year and I'm facing it with a smile, a pen, and good friends by my side.

Happy New Year, everyone. :)