It's 7 AM, I haven't slept, feels like I'm going a tad crazy. I'm in a weird mood so I want to write things down. This is normal.
Now that high-school's over, I... I don't know, there's so much to do. I just kind of... Want to lay around, for a little bit, though. Just completely vedge out (veg? vegg?) until the graduation ceremony.
I feel like things aren't going to get easier from here. I need to take a hammar to myself and iron out the flaws, make myself more dedicated, harder working, less addicted to my computer. "I want to break these bones until they're better. I want to break them right."
Never mind the fact that breaking your bones repeatedly actually weakens them, but I like that song, so I don't care. I do want to, need to, I think, break myself until I am better. Being a better person doesn't just happen and I'd prefer it if the person doing the breaking was myself and not someone else, working up my anxiety, breaking my heart, making me feel dumb. (And never mind the irony, by the way, of me writing this all on a computer lol...)
For all the times I almost couldn't handle it, all the times that made me lose sight of what it's all for, you'd think I'd be a little less sensitive. I'm working on it but I think... It's made me more sensitive and weak, not stronger and thick-skinned. I can hardly get myself to do things and I crumble at the slightest hint of anger from another person and cry way too often. Various individuals I've met seem to think I'm "cute" for the way I feel as though I'm helpless and weak; I don't find it very cute... I want to get a grip.
I guess part of that is not telling myself that I'm weak. Dr. Mac, even he said, "remember that you're strong and you will get through this." I find it very hard though, to say something positive about myself, even in a casual sense. It... feels like I'm lying, because I don't fully mean it, a bad thought always creeps up.
Somehow, even talking about this feels self-serving, even if it's what I believe and feel. Like it's an invitation for someone to come along and say all the words I need to hear to heal my heart, but I'll just regard them with bitterness, numbness, or ... disgust, almost. Even the words from dear friends, they wash over me like water off a duck's back.
But... I.. Would like to be better. This isn't fair to my friends, for my brain to make liars out of them, when they are simply saying what they really believe and feel. I don't have to love myself but respect for others begins with respect for the self (so says Dr. Collender and ... Marcus Aurelius, I believe).
There's one person in particular that's been...helping me feel less disgusting. Almost, indulging my desperate heart. I ... Don't know if... it's okay. It's probably not...But. ... There are some pros and cons to the situation. At the very least, it is good that we are somewhat distant but I would like to aid him in some way in return.
Today is the last day of highschool. After this is the celebration, some friends, then... Summer.
Besides sleeping and maybe playing some games, I don't know what I'll do with myself. I should learn the piano, I should take up German again, I should get a job (I should learn to drive), I should learn to use a firearm, I should start making resin crafts again, I should do watercolour, I should read, I should bake, I should cook, I should work on this website. I should write my stories and articles, I should make the webring better, I should start... Planning my life.
In Notion, I wrote some things down for the future. Stuff I should know before going to college, what I can do to cut costs everywhere I can, and how exactly I should prove that I can handle myself.
... It's kinda hard to prove that you can handle yourself when you've... never had the chance to learn how to do that. I can't handle myself, not right now. I think I'll end up taking more than one gap year just to catch up on all the developments my peers surpass me in.
Dr. Mac said it's okay to bloom late though. It's never fun wasting years of your life, rotting away, but sometimes people do. He shared a lot of stories with me about people who messed up something awful in highschool and college and those people still have careers, families, and self-respect. I like that he didn't say "somehow managed" to do that, as if your highschool years are who you are going to be forever, like my Mum seems to think... (To be fair, my Mum wasn't allowed to go to college. She got out of highschool and met my dad almost right away, so maybe that line of thinking makes sense from her perspective). Instead, he said they worked hard, learned some lessons, and some people just need to do that or they come into maturity, naturally, later.
I don't expect to magically be a better person someday... But... I think I need time. I'm a bit slow; I've always been...much slower than my peers. At least, from what I see of my peers, being that my schooling has been either clumsy homeschooling that didn't serve me well and the past 7 years of online classes.
My Mum straight-up told me that she hopes I'm not seriously thinking about college. My dad told me he won't pay for it. Well, I am thinking about going to college and I never wanted dad to pay for it anyway. All throughout those 7 years they've spoken extensively about how expensive my schooling is and how it's been becoming more expensive and how they think I've wasted every cent of it (despite graduating with B's -_-). So... I've been thinking, I'll work hard during my gap years, save up every single cent (sparing some for Christmas gifts and minor things) and pay for myself to go to a community college. That's not so bad, though my Mum regards community college with some level of disgust.
I don't plan on just going to community college though. Dr. Mac told me that I could graduate from community and move on to university, or do some years at community and transfer to university to finish it out. I'll have to look into this much deeper but I quite like the idea of that. It'll also end up being cheaper, if I gun the latter option.
College is a waste of money. I'm aware of that, it's one of the grievances my Mum has but damnit... ... I think it will be helpful. Just... If nothing else, going to a different place (I will not be going to college in-state or in the adjescant area), meeting those people, making it on my own in some way. Dr. Collender would be the first to say that you don't need to go to college in order to succeed but he told me specifically, that he thinks it'd be a great help.
As well as, you know, the degree. That's another thing I'm gonna have to think about because a lot of degrees, especially the ones to do with writing (journalism degree, heh) are completely useless unless you're doing something specific (like gaslighting an entire nation of people *cough* journalism degree...*cough*). Well, maybe I could... I don't know, become an editor; having an English degree would surely aid me in that, wouldn't it?
I don't know. That's research for later. I'll make it worth my time, no matter what.
. . .
An inkling of a bad idea has popped itself in my head over the past week. During those gap years, or year, I want to write an... Appeal, to my parents. My Mother specifically but I'll make certain to note that I do NOT want dad to pay for my college. Included in the appeal is how I plan on to finance myself, what degree I'm getting, how I'm going to live, and what my current capabilities are. I'll tell them what I want from life and damnit, I'm going to have it. For the bad part, though...
I've been thinking, I'll print out my appeal and not even give her a chance to say "I don't believe in you." I'll pack up before leaving it on the counter and begin my drive. Maybe they'll see it as running away, and maybe I am a little afraid that my parents will say "no," but I see it more as I'm running towards something and finally breaking the last bond that had me entirely dependant on them. I don't know how they'd react to that and it's probably a bad idea, borne out of a lot of bitterness and rebellion. Regardless, I want to write that appeal.
Well.
I'm...I feel like I should address that last entry, just for... I don't know, 'cause it's there, and that was pretty dark. Things are still dark which is why I'm here again. But.... I'm alive. I'm...still here.
Mum pretty much just got done... Telling me that I've wasted my life. I'm eating dinner alone in the den and just... Felt like I needed to get this stuff out.
I guess...To explain what she said, to the best of my memory (I always forget instantly, once they're done lecturing me. My mind... Goes blank...) I... I've struggled, in school. And not 'cause I'm like... Dumb, or something, (although I am), just 'cause I'm really lazy. Even if it's a super easy 300 word essay, if I don't care about it, I just... Don't seem to care about the consequences of not doing it. I know I need to do it though, I know I can do it in like an hour and get a minimum of 80% on it and that goes for a lot of my school tasks.
The way Mum sees it, I seem to be... I'm "callous" and "belligerent." I'm taking everything for granted. They've told me for years that they've given me everything on a silver platter; my schooling is probably the best in the US, as far as private Christian schools are, I have a house with 7 acres, my graduation dress was almost a thousand bucks. ...
And...Yet, here I am. She tells me that the only college that will take me is a community college. I've squandred my entire schooling, needing to be saved by others right before I fail. ... She says that I wasted my schooling and instead wandered around, telling people about how 'abusive' my parents are.
She also says that I've never learned to get over my pride. The thing that.... The reason why I never ask for help, even when I really need it, is pride.
Is...that true?
There was a lot of screaming but she was also crying. She wants me to succeed, she wants me to have an easy transition into adulthood, the sort of thing her and my dad (I'm not going to capitalize his title and I've been thinking for a while that I'll start privately calling him by his name...) never had. They both come from houses of glass breaking, beatings, screaming, manipulation, sexism, etc etc.
. . .
I don't know. I don't know why I don't ask for help. I don't know why I can't get myself to do something, even if I know I need to do it and can do it. Over the years, I've been working to be less lazy. Over the past two years, I've been distancing myself from my friends and not telling them about.... stuff. ((Sorry Jack, Elinor, if you're reading this; I didn't want to open Discord on my computer and I'm just....Thinking)). It's not enough. I'm too slow and it's too late, according to Mum.
.... In... contrast... There's people, that... have told me that I've helped them. That I've touched their hearts, I've made them better people, I've made their lives just a little bit better.
I can never really believe it when they say that... I sound like... an ungrateful bitch, but..
I don't understand what's wrong with me. I don't understand why I've been a certain way, seemingly ever since I was born (dad, told me as such). I... really do, I really try to get outside of my head and not be drowned in my feelings so much. But it...hurts. It hurts. I'm...trying... I'm. I don't know what's right. Sometimes I get so ... lost... in my head, the conversations I have with myself and the fantasies I enjoy that I... I don't know, I start to go crazy, I forget what... reality... is like. I become... Sick, weirdly sick, and have an awful sense of... deja vu? Did I experience something in a dream or did it actually happen?
... My aspirations, mind, personality it seems like... are strangers to my Mother. I don't know when it started but I've just... I don't tell them about things. I don't tell them about friends, my projects, things I hope for. When she looks at me, she sees waste. Wasted potential, something she's beaten over and over and over again to try and get it to work hard and do well in school so that I can have "[my] pick of schools and careers."
I'm like a bad dog... Like our dog, Nuna, no matter how much we try and help her, reward her when she does something we want, punish when she does bad, she still barks, runs away, and pees on the floor.
I don't even know what to say right now... I don't know what's true and not true. I feel like... I... I don't know, I'm... broken. Something's been off with me ever since I existed. I've always been bull-headed, extremely independant, lazy, and have always refused to ask for help. I don't know why... Elinor says that asking for help is a skill, and so is wanting to do tasks we don't want to do. It's okay that I've never been taught those things, but I can learn now.
That's...Nice, but.. it feels like it's too late. And...I don't want to put all the blame on my parents.
And yet... If I haven't been abused in some way.. why does everything hurt? Why do I want to kill myself? Is this part of the "self-sabotage" my Mum was talking about? Have I ruined myself? Am I a lost cause? Do I want to die because I ruined all my potential?
Was it all me...?
She also says that... After I graduate, there won't be any more safety net. The safety I've taken for granted, there won't be any more. No more Mum and [Joseph] to support me, no more teachers that care if I fail, no one else to lean on. I'll be responsible for everything.
But...And... Maybe I'm thinking about this wrong, but...Have I taken it for granted if I've tried not to use it? That safety net.
.... these lectures from my parents always make me doubt my own mind, intentions, and motivations, but... If... I can say what I think is true... (it might be true...I don't know, my own mind is lost to me sometimes) I... the reason why I don't ask for help is because I... just, want to do it myself, for one (which is probably ... a dumb reason...) and I don't want to depend on others so much. I don't want to... bother them.
But I'm also...scared. I'm always... scared, to ask for help. I don't know why. I wish I could pin-point some specific event that's caused this fear and distrust but I can't, I just seem to be like this. I hate it. If I could tear out my ugly heart and shatter it for all the faults it gives me... I would.
....I'm rambling a lot... but I have more to say...
When Dr. Mac met me in his office, I was...scared. I'd been... I hadn't answered any of his emails, where he's basically been begging me to let him help. Finally, he contacted my academic adviser and she got in touch with my Mum and that's why I got a lecture. So when I went to his office, I ... thought he would chew me out and just... seem disappointed in me.
But he was kind... He was so nice. He didn't have any hint of malice in his voice, he didn't...growl or bark at me. He chided me, sure, but... He was just so kind and patient with me that I started crying. He told me that he understands... He understands being paralyzed with fear and just feeling like running away and ignoring the problem so that it doesn't exist (in your mind). He seemed so glad, legit really happy that I was there, talking to him finally.
I guess he is the safety net my Mum told me I won't have anymore...
I've had Dr. Mac in my classes for years...Omnibus, Logic, now this Thesis... When his baby was born, I got together with classmates to send a care package (that I ended up doing completely by myself but that's a long story). He's always been kind and gentle. I... Don't know why I was so scared. After that meeting ended, I instantly went to work on things, which didn't happen for long but... I felt like it really is going to be okay.
I really do think that my life is...worthless...but just that little amount of kindness... has calmed my heart, eased my fears, and made the future seem reachable.
Am I... Dumb...for being like this? Mum said that it would take something catastrophic to happen to me, to get me to change and do better, because Lord knows she hasn't been able to beat that change into me... but...
Do I have to believe that Dr. Mac's kindness is...not worth anything...? That...it can't change me? That I can't let it ... mean more to me... than my Mum's anger?
I don't know why I'm like this and I... don't fully know what I'm starving for...but...I'm alive. So long as I'm alive, I can... make someone happy. Even as I waste away, even if I kill myself... I think it's okay if I don't do anything amazing... if I can... find it within myself to be gentle, like Dr. Mac was gentle with me, towards others... (I don't know why I'm crying so much right now...), I think... it's okay. It's okay to be... at least, a little bit, of who I am. I don't want to hurt. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I want to believe that I...can still do good things... even if I'm worthless.
If I don't graduate, I will end it all. I can't anymore. My worth has made itself known. Last night, I looked up however much I'd need to take to kill myself and I know it will be painful (might get a hole burned into my stomach according to one source) but I don't care. I'll take everything. I'll take so much that I can't come back from it. This is hell. I'm living in hell. I was born into it and have since continued to churn it and thinking that I could be worth anything as I stand, if I work for it, is a complete lie.
What day do I even set here? I've been staying up all night, or trying to, and I need to stay up tomorrow night (tonight?) as well and... uhgh.
This is it, the last stretch. Besides being stressed out of my mind, I have three Omni Sec things overdue. -_- I'm just waiting for my Mum to get after me for them but Lord please please don't let that happen; I just need to make it past Tuesday. If Tuesday happens and I survive, I will be... Thrilled.
I have a feeling I may need to send my finished work to my readers...after the presentation... Which isn't in the instructions, that's a failing on me. Why did I waste so much time during the 3rd quarter? I can't even remember what happened during the 3rd quarter. I should have... Been better. As always, I should have been better.
No time to waste on being sad. I don't know how to fix myself or make it better but I always survive, at least. Just need to do that for a little bit longer...
Physically and emotionally!!
But no really, there's something up with my body. My shoulders and back hurt so often, so does my neck. My limbs fall asleep at the drop of the hat and my toes on my right foot often look blue even when my feet aren't asleep,,,,? Is that okay? Should I tell my Mum about some of this? She knows about the limbs falling asleep but...
Something recent that's been happening too is that, whenever I do a big stretch, like the kind you take after getting out of bed, my knees... Like, I have to be careful, 'cause it feels like my knees might buckle. I start to lose feeling in my knees. I think it's when I stretch my stomach, mostly. I know this isn't normal because it's only been happening the last couple of months. Unless maybe it is normal? I- I don't know... I'm only 18 I shouldn't be having these issues LOL. Also, going back to my shoulder hurting, it will SO SO VERY sore...just so sore...
Oh, and another thing is that whenever I'm slicing meat or veggies and it takes a little bit my hands start to go numb and buzz. And they're like that for forever. Just something about the way I'm holding the knife while slicing (I hold it normally; I'm not doing anything weird lol, I don't think...) makes my hands ... not nice. Idk what to do or think about all this.
:/
A bit sad today. Some thoughts running through my head.
The song I decided to link up there for the month^ I think I see myself as both the singer and the subject -- I want to stand by everyone I love and ensure no one is lonely or sad, I've worked hard to mold myself to be someone who is open, I think, and doesn't bring harm to others when I'm emotional. I want to be a pillar other's can stand on and trust; I want to protect. Yet.. I myself am lonely and lost. The love that I try (I may try but I fail, constantly) to give to others, I simply can't accept for myself.
- You say you drag me down
No one should want you now
When I start to cry, you kiss my eyes and say
I'm not allowed to
There's a lot of things running through my head right now. Women's psychology is one of them; Dr. Collender tells us in the book he wrote for Rhet II that women envision themselves in a story when they parse out life goals and situations (loosely; it was simplified since Rhet isn't a Psych class) and most often that story revolves around potential marriage partners. "What will my life look like with this person?" Obviously it doesn't just revolve around whoever she might marry but it's a big factor in how she places herself in her story, even if she's chosen to value other things over marriage. (Wise) Female hypergamy(?), or something, lol, he spoke a lot about that and it relates somehow. Would you believe it that Dr. Collender's favourite book is Pride & Prejudice?
I always thought I just had a weird imagination but as soon as I read about that, I thought it made a lot of sense. Maybe I just have a romantic heart, but I always felt bad when I thought about what the "ending" (like, a video game ending? Where you completed the story and got the good ending and the lives of the characters after you're done playing the game are just a continuous extension of that good ending. I don't think I make sense to anyone but myself...) of my life might be like with my guy friends; I've never caught feelings for my guy friends, and if I have then I've briskly snuffed it out. Regardless, I find myself wondering and instantly not trusting the little architect in my mind.
Whenever I imagine my own little story, the end result is a grey, glass house. Maybe a dog, for protection. The image is pretty vivid; I'm wearing a tailored white linen dress shirt, simple jeans, and my friends visit often. I cook for them and they fill my heart with laughter and joy... Maybe "happiness" is a better word though, because happiness doesn't last and "joy" is a disposition of the soul. I may not be a joyous person.
Inevitabely, my friends leave; so does the happiness. The house is empty again. What's sad is this is a positive fantasy, or story, to me; I feel like it's the best outcome or I wouldn't really entertain the idea so much.
This haunted house you've created is forged from your own shame. - unknown quote I saw on Tumblr
It's hard to say where the distrust and melancholy comes from. My Mother is a very dour person sometimes but one of her more positive personal beliefs is that she thinks God makes someone special for everyone on Earth. That's very nice but after I learned that there is no marriage in Heaven, I don't know how true that may be. Regardless... I think it's clear that I have a "romantic" heart. One that wants to love and share love and it feels like I'm constantly bleeding for it.
I started writing this entry because I wanted to get things out of my head but I think I can physically feel my mind dissolving. It's way too late. Or early? In summary, I want to share joy and be meaningful for people but I feel as though I'm undeserving of that affection directed towards me. Not just undeserving but like it's just.... a really...really bad idea. Maybe knowing this will allow me some peace and I can work to bleed a little less; maybe not, since love inherently invites pain regardless of the form it's in, but maybe.
I styled this page a while ago and I really like how it came out.
I didn't get much done last night; I was planning on staying up and working but nope....
May 7th. It's the first right now. I don't have much time...I don't know how I'm gonna pull this off, honestly.