I'm alive; unfortunately testing time at college has taken over. There have been some health issues of a family friend distracting me as well.
One more week and it's time for me to happily pick up a pen again - and not for college papers!
I always say the title like it's a big surprise when it really isn't. School was never hard for me academically; I skated by with amazing grades that I never got in middle school. I almost hope college is a bit more challenging - but hopefully, not over demanding.
But yes, I graduated a week ago, and so I am enjoying the summer and taking the extra hours of free time to write and draft out multitudes of ideas. I better enjoy it now, too, because after this summer comes the years of jobs that steal the time away again...
But still, I'm excited. I'll be heading to the University of Pittsburgh for a definite major in English writing; and my classes are all introductions to things like psychology and anthropology. I loved those classes last year. Maybe I'll find out I have enough of a passion in them to declare one as my double major. Because Lord knows, I'll need to major or minor in something else. Writers don't make incomes on just their works anymore. I also despise journalism. Why? No human should be able to take photos of an terrible accident and go, "Hey, I got tonight's breaking news story!" I don't even watch the news. I read articles on Yahoo and Google, and even then I avoid accident reports.
Oh, pet peeves.
BTW, if people want me to review something of there's, just send me the link. I spend so much time on other websites I actually sometimes abandon this one; but I'm willing to offer critique!
I'm a little disappointed. I had hoped that after tonight I would OK.
Thursday, Valentine's Day, ended the trend of good that began when I turned 18 two days before that. For once, my b-day was good, and I had hoepd it would stay that way. Something about how every one of my friends got flowers in school on Valentine's Day, except me, hurt. Not dating-gift flowers, flowers from friends that the school began as a project. You feel so ostracized when everyone who is seen as dorkier, meaner, or stupider than you has a flower or three. Then you feel even worse for feeling what I just typed.
Well, after walking around all of school feeling like that, we had family therapy for the first time. It stressed my mother out, so my brother and I spent "bonding time" with her. My dad, the cause of the uproot other than me, went off on his own. And it hurt my mother. She began crying when she thought I was asleep. And telling Dad that she didn't see the man she loved anywhere and really thought the family wasn't going to make it. She went to work in tears, and I spent the night worrying - I thought she'd crash on the way to work, and Dad has threatened suicide multiple times...
I was so depressed on Friday. So, so depressed...
So today, which started out great (I ran into three of my good friends before the party we'd planned even started) would solve all of it. And it almost did.
So I don't know, maybe it's the hormones of that woman's biological curse attacking me (which would make no sense since that's never been a problem), I got so mad at people. Just...I've lost trust in a lot of things and people, including me.
I ended up walking with Evan, my best friend, very very late. I had to apologize for some things I'd done, some very immature things. I really wish I could blame the hormones. But I can’t. I just think there’s something wrong with me. Or that my inner brat finally won over the image I let him believe in all this time that I don’t think is really me.
And man, why do I whine?! He’s right - I’ve seen other things so much worse than my mental state when I work to make the world a better place and try to understand what's going on across the oceans, so why am I this way?! WHY?!
I don’t know. I don’t know, god dammit...and I don’t know what to do for myself.
Maybe...I should skip Monday? And try to do things for myself? I don’t know.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being this whiney and emo...
Well, the song by The Fray seems appropriate. But yeah, this is not the best of times for me.
The family has been fighting to the point that I am waiting for one of my parents to move out.
Even my best friend and I have been fighting recently, so though I would love to talk to him right now it seems best to back off for a week or two.
I'm submitting various poems to contests, which is always a bit nervewracking - we never know what they'll say. And naturally I'll need signatures for some of the entries (the curse of not being in college yet), so I'll have to remember that when I go back to school in another three days.
Finally there is the major Gold Award (the Girl Scout equivilant of an Eagle Project), which I want to finish but DESPISE working on.
Aside from this there is always the inner worries. Like all teenagers I struggle with an image of myself - some days I feel beautiful inside and out, and other days I only feel one or the other - and on the worst days I just flat out hate myself. On those days I want to do things like write or read, normally so simple - and I simply can't. It's a struggle, put simply. Just one annoying struggle.
Ah, well. Life - what can you do?
Silence is my number one enemy now. Except that I still don't feel like talking, so guess what - it wins.
Basically, I've spent a few months becoming busier, and busier, and angrier at the people around me for various reasons - lack of needed response, the inability to help out when the help is needed, the fact that they don't see connections and problems in our culture that my favorite teacher always finds, whatever, it doesn't matter - I became as hateful as my dad inside, which is the thing I'm terrified of the most.
And my anger came out at several specific people.
One of which I had added onto LJ. Of course, she had never added me back, so I never thought she'd see what I wrote.
Well, she chose this week to add me, after five or six months, so of course I had forgotten she was on my friends list.
And the damage was done.
I would ask for forgiveness again, except that before I can I need to forgive myself for letting my problems get the better of me, it would seem.
God...I really thought I was better than that...but I certainly proved myself wrong.
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