I dreamed I was still living with... well... the guys who kicked me out of their house. I had no idea how much better I feel here until I woke up and realized that I don't live there anymore. Nowhere is perfect, but the amount of emotional stress and discomfort and awkwardness at that place was so bad that it prevented me from doing the things I love-- drawing, making music, rollerblading, even singing (badly) in the car.

I'm still in Florida, still going to college, just in a house where I actually feel welcome to leave my room and join the dinner table and play games and watch TV with my roommates.

Sometimes things do get better, but it takes a nightmare to realize it.