And Here I Am Again, But This Time, Much More Tired

You probably looked at your timeline and thought, "elevation? LPT? Who is that? Did I forget about a blog I followed on a whim?"
No. It's me....back again.
I feel like that ring at the doorbell in the middle of the night. You open your door to a sopping wet, crying Leah, suitcases and all, standing in the pouring rain.
You don't ask questions like, "Why don't you have an umbrella? What are you doing here?" You just don't say anything. You show me a bed and I sleep. Not just the normal time, but an abnormally long time, like I haven't slept in weeks.
And that's how I feel. Broken down and tired. Everything has built up and I just want to go home.
Here you think, "Not ORU? You want to come back?"
The answer to that: No/I don't know.
I don't know where home is anymore. I don't know who home is anymore. I thought going to college would solve my life...that everything would work out and I would finally be content in what I'm doing and where I am.
I'll tell you that, right now, that's the exact opposite. I have no idea what I'm doing. I follow what I think to be God's voice and it ends me up in a ditch. I don't know what I want anymore.
I asked a girl on my floor to answer the question, "When you think of Leah, what do you think of?"
She answered, "I think of a girl who's a lot of fun. She has everything in place and she has it all together..."
to which I replied, "Are you serious?"
I'm a bummer. A day doesn't go by where I don't offend somebody and get called a jerk (rude, mean, etc.). I cry ALL THE TIME. I have nothing together. I hold on to the strings of God's promises and that's all that's holding me up. I've changed my major after a half-semester of college, and I'm hoping and praying I don't have to change it again. I have very few friends, since a lot of the people I thought were my friends found better people. I can't wait to go home, yet, when I get home, I want to come back. Like I said....I don't know where home is. When I'm in Tulsa, home is "Metro Denver." When I'm in Highlands Ranch, my home is "Frances 813."
And you'd think this is where I'm like WAIT UP here's what God says!
But.......you're wrong.
I feel like a broken down car...I'm missing my doors, my engine is shot, rust consumes every single inch. To many, it wouldn't be worth it to rescue. Just buy a new car.
I guess this is my season of repair. I'm being stripped down to the very frame, and being made new. And it sucks. It hurts and it's tormenting. I don't like it. I don't just dislike it, I hate it. I'm ready to tap out and be done. It doesn't feel worth it.
But somehow, it is. And I'm working on it.

Love,
Leah