It's odd, how happy I am really. I am still depressed in some ways, but it is normal, teenage depression that comes with the constantly complicated world of boys and friendships. I was angry today, very, but it is just healthy anger that is finally coming out of the overflowing well inside me where I've been stuffing it for years.
If you think about it, analyze it, I have been happy these first few months for the first time EVER in my life. I have had brief moments of happiness, but nothing like this. All my meds work, bipolar is under control, anxiety is under control, OCD is totally under control, DID is just doing whatever it wants to I won't try to feel bad about the divisions in me. It has been almost eight months since I last truly cut, intending to not cut again, and I can eat 1200 calories a day without gaining weight (as opposed to 450 last February).
I am healthy, and happy, and although I haven't been getting a ton of sleep I feel pretty good all the time. Depression is what always made me exhausted anyway, and now it is gone.
Oh my gosh, I was so scared my whole life of this, of happiness. So scared I avoided it, did everything possible to never have to deal with it. I thought I wasn't capable of it. It's funny how one amazing summer and a few good decisions have brought me here, uncharted territory, happiness. And you know what? Although sometimes I miss the depression, the bulimia, the self injury (I won't lie), for the most part I'm pretty dang happy with being happy. It feels so nice. It's been hard, but I am capable of it, and I can live a good life.
In the end, to emerge from all of it, to emerge from it as a butterfly and not some ugly worm like I once was, to emerge from darkness with confidence, with happiness, with an emotional vitality and unbreakable will to survive, is what proves they have not controlled me, is what proves I proved them wrong, all of them, defied all their insults and abuse with this one single, massive insult that I have become: I am happy, I am healthy, so freaking there.
In the end, I beat you.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
debate... i'm alive again!
I got to debate today for the first time in months. OH MY GOSH it was SO freaking fun!!! I love debate so much! I think I did really well too. I was debating Brittany, it was awesome, I was doing really well. I guess I definitely beat her, but that's not what matters. What matters is it's so fun to debate a friend, to get mad and know that you're not really actually mad at each other.
So I was really organized and confident and everything. Only problem is that when you're in a hurry and have a minute to go through someone's entire case or something, saying "illegal aliens" and "immigration" becomes a tongue twister. I made up another word today too: non-undemocratic.
School's going okay. I went into Mr. Adams' today and told him I was worried about my grade, and he said I'd be fine, my essay writing skills are really good, and I would get used to the tests. I certainly hope so.
Anyway... I love debate so much! This season is going to rock.
On a other hand, I'm doing pretty well right now (besides eating disorder issues). The new anxiety meds have definitely kicked in and are working. My only current problem is my cousin. My mom and my aunt keep talking about him, my aunt is so excited to see him. I feel like I shouldn't resent that but I do. I know after the brain trauma, she doesn't see the world quite the same as she did, but I feel like she should at least be mad at him for never really caring about what he did to me. I honestly don't think she has a clue about the implications her son created in my life.
My mom keeps talking to my aunt about forgiving people that will never feel sorry for what they did to you. And it's hard. I don't know how to completely forgive him when I know he honestly doesn't care.
I keep going back and watching this home video from when I was four. It was during the time my cousin was living with us. I am standing there, covered in band-aids (four-year-olds have a weird fascination with band-aids) and my dad's asking me why I have so many band aids on and I'm saying something toddler-ish, and then I say, "I have a secret that I can never tell you." My dad says, "What?" and I say, "I can't tell you!" and then the next scene is of my brother taping my cousin in the kitchen.
I remember saying that, weirdly enough. And I know what that secret is. And on that next scene, I know that I have seen parts of that stupid curly-haired sick little kid that I never wanted to. And I think if I see him again, I will throw up. I don't know how to forgive. I don't know how to believe in the purity and goodness in a person like him.
Well, what happens happens. Now off to Huckleberry Finn...
So I was really organized and confident and everything. Only problem is that when you're in a hurry and have a minute to go through someone's entire case or something, saying "illegal aliens" and "immigration" becomes a tongue twister. I made up another word today too: non-undemocratic.
School's going okay. I went into Mr. Adams' today and told him I was worried about my grade, and he said I'd be fine, my essay writing skills are really good, and I would get used to the tests. I certainly hope so.
Anyway... I love debate so much! This season is going to rock.
On a other hand, I'm doing pretty well right now (besides eating disorder issues). The new anxiety meds have definitely kicked in and are working. My only current problem is my cousin. My mom and my aunt keep talking about him, my aunt is so excited to see him. I feel like I shouldn't resent that but I do. I know after the brain trauma, she doesn't see the world quite the same as she did, but I feel like she should at least be mad at him for never really caring about what he did to me. I honestly don't think she has a clue about the implications her son created in my life.
My mom keeps talking to my aunt about forgiving people that will never feel sorry for what they did to you. And it's hard. I don't know how to completely forgive him when I know he honestly doesn't care.
I keep going back and watching this home video from when I was four. It was during the time my cousin was living with us. I am standing there, covered in band-aids (four-year-olds have a weird fascination with band-aids) and my dad's asking me why I have so many band aids on and I'm saying something toddler-ish, and then I say, "I have a secret that I can never tell you." My dad says, "What?" and I say, "I can't tell you!" and then the next scene is of my brother taping my cousin in the kitchen.
I remember saying that, weirdly enough. And I know what that secret is. And on that next scene, I know that I have seen parts of that stupid curly-haired sick little kid that I never wanted to. And I think if I see him again, I will throw up. I don't know how to forgive. I don't know how to believe in the purity and goodness in a person like him.
Well, what happens happens. Now off to Huckleberry Finn...
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
debate woes (kill the novi)
Summary of the day: way too many tests, did well on all of them... still have a bit of homework to do and need to run, am procrastinating. Today was my mom's b-day, we went to dinner. I ate a half of a mudslide dessert. It was the best thing I've tasted in years. Then I came home and took laxatives. Well I guess small victories come with small losses.
SO... Nick, this kid who's doing debate. He's driving me CRAZY. It's not really about jealousy. I don't think he'll be good at LD. It's about making fun of something that is sacred to me. WHY IS HE DOING LD?!!!! He is so much more of a policy type. He'd fit in there way better. He doesn't care about morals. He doesn't care about ethics and philosophy and what's right and wrong. He's just come barging into my sacred, emotional sanctuary and defiled it with sarcasm and... and apathy. HE DOESN'T FREAKING CARE... WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DO THIS??!!!! Anyway, yesterday in history he was talking to some kids about ethics and utilitarianism like he knew everything about philosophy (he's really... arrogant, but in an unnatural way), and it bothered me so much that to avoid diving over the desk and strangling him I ripped out a piece of paper and angrily wrote this:
I can't stand it, can't stand his... aloofness, his prestige, his arrogance, that annoying quality of his, whatever it is. I can't stand him invading my clean, beloved world of philosophy.
He has to do everything I do (I'm sure this has nothing to do with me if I think rationally, but still... Debate is my sanctuary, it is my life, and he is defiling it). I can't handle him taking over my fragile ecosystem, my only world of confidence and hope, the activity that saved my life... and morals, ethics, philosophy... all these things are the foundation of my life and my reasoning.
I think I'm going to explode, or rather implode. I want to light his utilitarian case on fire. It would be a fitting, utilitarian action. His debate case in ashes would be the greater good for the greater amount of people. Especially me. Deontological? Sure why not. Nobody ever said combustion and natural laws of flaming debate cases were immoral. Kant, check. Rand? Of course. I'll be happy and defending my emotions as an individual by watching it burn. Plato? I'm rising out of the concrete world into the pure idea world of Nickless debate. Locke? Our government has a responsibility to destroy his case, as it is pontentially socially harmful. If they fail to do so, I am responsible as a citizen in the social contract to vaporize it. William James? Yep. It's pragmatic to my survival as a sane human being. Democritus? Yes, the atoms in the ashes won't split or divide. Aristotle? Yes, it is a kind act, a humane act for the greater purpose of my happiness which is every individual's final goal. Earlier Greek philosophers? Yep, something remains in the reaction, the element of Earth in the ashes, but something is also changed by the element fire. So explainable.
RESOLVED: It is perfectly philosophically and morally correct to burn Nick's debate case. I stand only in affirmation. (Now I'll have to repeat the process with vaporizing Nick).
Speaking of Lindsay-aided combustion, anyone seen Mr. Pogreba (stupid bastard GRR) lately?
Apparently there's a bit more violent anger in me than I thought.
SO... Nick, this kid who's doing debate. He's driving me CRAZY. It's not really about jealousy. I don't think he'll be good at LD. It's about making fun of something that is sacred to me. WHY IS HE DOING LD?!!!! He is so much more of a policy type. He'd fit in there way better. He doesn't care about morals. He doesn't care about ethics and philosophy and what's right and wrong. He's just come barging into my sacred, emotional sanctuary and defiled it with sarcasm and... and apathy. HE DOESN'T FREAKING CARE... WHY DOES HE HAVE TO DO THIS??!!!! Anyway, yesterday in history he was talking to some kids about ethics and utilitarianism like he knew everything about philosophy (he's really... arrogant, but in an unnatural way), and it bothered me so much that to avoid diving over the desk and strangling him I ripped out a piece of paper and angrily wrote this:
I can't stand it, can't stand his... aloofness, his prestige, his arrogance, that annoying quality of his, whatever it is. I can't stand him invading my clean, beloved world of philosophy.
He has to do everything I do (I'm sure this has nothing to do with me if I think rationally, but still... Debate is my sanctuary, it is my life, and he is defiling it). I can't handle him taking over my fragile ecosystem, my only world of confidence and hope, the activity that saved my life... and morals, ethics, philosophy... all these things are the foundation of my life and my reasoning.
I think I'm going to explode, or rather implode. I want to light his utilitarian case on fire. It would be a fitting, utilitarian action. His debate case in ashes would be the greater good for the greater amount of people. Especially me. Deontological? Sure why not. Nobody ever said combustion and natural laws of flaming debate cases were immoral. Kant, check. Rand? Of course. I'll be happy and defending my emotions as an individual by watching it burn. Plato? I'm rising out of the concrete world into the pure idea world of Nickless debate. Locke? Our government has a responsibility to destroy his case, as it is pontentially socially harmful. If they fail to do so, I am responsible as a citizen in the social contract to vaporize it. William James? Yep. It's pragmatic to my survival as a sane human being. Democritus? Yes, the atoms in the ashes won't split or divide. Aristotle? Yes, it is a kind act, a humane act for the greater purpose of my happiness which is every individual's final goal. Earlier Greek philosophers? Yep, something remains in the reaction, the element of Earth in the ashes, but something is also changed by the element fire. So explainable.
RESOLVED: It is perfectly philosophically and morally correct to burn Nick's debate case. I stand only in affirmation. (Now I'll have to repeat the process with vaporizing Nick).
Speaking of Lindsay-aided combustion, anyone seen Mr. Pogreba (stupid bastard GRR) lately?
Apparently there's a bit more violent anger in me than I thought.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
So I'm still not sure exactly where my cousin is coming, I'm a little scared to ask, but I asked my mom if she was going out to lunch with him and my aunt and she said no, she's still too mad at him for what he did to me, and him still not owning up to it and all.
Today I did the best out of everyone on another grammar unit test thing (yay, lots of good grades lately), and out of all those complicated mistakes this is what I did:
There was five feet of snow on the ground Sunday morning. It had all melted by the end of the day. (directions: connect the two sentences with a conjunctive adverb).
My answer:
There was five feet of snow on the ground Sunday morning; Consequently it had all melted by the end of the day.
Okay, he only took off two points out of five (it was after a conjunctive adverb), but my gosh, how stupid can you get. That sentence doens't even make sense.
We're reading Huckleberry Finn right now, and HF's dad beating him kinda made me mad.
Song that I love that sorta tells a story of my life: ("Concrete Angel" by Martina McBride)
She walks to school with a lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holding back;
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday,
She hides the bruises with the linen and lace;
oh
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask,
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask;
Bearing the burdon of a secret storm,
Sometimes she wishes she was never born;
Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night,
The neighbors hear but they turn out the lights;
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate,
When morning comes it will be too late.
Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel
A statue stands in a shaded place,
An angel girl with an upturned face;
Her name is written on a polished rock,
A broken heart that the world forgot.
Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel
Today I did the best out of everyone on another grammar unit test thing (yay, lots of good grades lately), and out of all those complicated mistakes this is what I did:
There was five feet of snow on the ground Sunday morning. It had all melted by the end of the day. (directions: connect the two sentences with a conjunctive adverb).
My answer:
There was five feet of snow on the ground Sunday morning; Consequently it had all melted by the end of the day.
Okay, he only took off two points out of five (it was after a conjunctive adverb), but my gosh, how stupid can you get. That sentence doens't even make sense.
We're reading Huckleberry Finn right now, and HF's dad beating him kinda made me mad.
Song that I love that sorta tells a story of my life: ("Concrete Angel" by Martina McBride)
She walks to school with a lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holding back;
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday,
She hides the bruises with the linen and lace;
oh
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask,
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask;
Bearing the burdon of a secret storm,
Sometimes she wishes she was never born;
Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night,
The neighbors hear but they turn out the lights;
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate,
When morning comes it will be too late.
Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel
A statue stands in a shaded place,
An angel girl with an upturned face;
Her name is written on a polished rock,
A broken heart that the world forgot.
Through the wind and the rain,
She stands hard as a stone in a world that she can't rise above;
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel
Monday, September 26, 2005
my cousin has risen from hell (why can't he stay there?)
so my cousin that sexually abused me who nobody's heard from in five or six years has suddenly contacted my aunt and is visiting from the east coast next month (i think maybe he's coming here, to my town).
i'm actually scared, really really scared. i can't handle he's in the same country as me, not in prison, let alone the same town... i won't let it be the same house. i will get in my car and drive somewhere.
part of me says shoot the bastard with a machine gun... part of me is numb... part of me is curious and wants to forgive.
well even if i forgive i don't have to forget.
I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle this.
i'm actually scared, really really scared. i can't handle he's in the same country as me, not in prison, let alone the same town... i won't let it be the same house. i will get in my car and drive somewhere.
part of me says shoot the bastard with a machine gun... part of me is numb... part of me is curious and wants to forgive.
well even if i forgive i don't have to forget.
I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle this.
I got an A+ on my history essay, which is quite an accomplishment in AP history, which made me pretty happy.
I think the new anxiety meds are working because I don't feel nearly as stressed out or anxious about anything as I did even last week. Today my friends were freaking out about this grammar test we had (turned out to be easy, for me anyway, although I seem to be good at grammar), and I just wasn't concerned at all. None of that last minute panicky cramming. I knew I'd studied, and I wasn't worried. That's very uncharacteristic of me.
So this new calmness can be good and bad. I seem to have adopted the attitude that I'll always do well on tests, which is probably going to be shattered as soon as we get our AP history tests (which didn't go well) back. I have a feeling my essays are going to help keep my A afloat in that class.
Ah, school. I would love it so much if it didn't take so much time.
QUESTION OF THE DAY: should I ask Josh (the boy I went to coffee with) to the homecoming dance? He asked me to the homecoming game, but he can't ask me to the dance, since it's at my school... hmm... deliberation...
To be or not to be...
(people say that all the time about silly things. It wasn't until like seventh grade that I found out that was about suicide. I don't take it as lightly now).
I think the new anxiety meds are working because I don't feel nearly as stressed out or anxious about anything as I did even last week. Today my friends were freaking out about this grammar test we had (turned out to be easy, for me anyway, although I seem to be good at grammar), and I just wasn't concerned at all. None of that last minute panicky cramming. I knew I'd studied, and I wasn't worried. That's very uncharacteristic of me.
So this new calmness can be good and bad. I seem to have adopted the attitude that I'll always do well on tests, which is probably going to be shattered as soon as we get our AP history tests (which didn't go well) back. I have a feeling my essays are going to help keep my A afloat in that class.
Ah, school. I would love it so much if it didn't take so much time.
QUESTION OF THE DAY: should I ask Josh (the boy I went to coffee with) to the homecoming dance? He asked me to the homecoming game, but he can't ask me to the dance, since it's at my school... hmm... deliberation...
To be or not to be...
(people say that all the time about silly things. It wasn't until like seventh grade that I found out that was about suicide. I don't take it as lightly now).
Sunday, September 25, 2005
random
So I decided to delete what I first posted here. I can't believe it's Sunday night already. And tomorrow I will have to go back to hell. It's sad when it's only September and I'm already doubtful of my chances of surviving this school year, or my classes.
It's not that I hate school. I don't. I hate being busy. I hate having so much homework. I for the most part like school, because I like learning. Even though my history class is boring, I think history itself is fascinating, so it makes it okay.
The problem this year is being in three college classes that give you as much homework as college. But in college, you have more time to do your homework and less school every day (at least I hope). So it's really unfortunate that I have college homework but not a college schedule.
I don't think I'm going to survive (get an A in) AP history. I hope I do. I'm working as hard as possible. But I have my doubts. I really should be writing my essay right now. Mr. Adams hasn't actually handed any of our essays, tests, or worksheets back yet, so I have no clue how I'm doing, but the tests were hard, and that can't bode well.
I think the new anxiety med I'm on is working though because I feel a lot calmer about things and a lot less obsessive and panicky about school. I hate being dependent on drugs, but I guess I will be my whole life, so I might as well get used to it.
It's not that I hate school. I don't. I hate being busy. I hate having so much homework. I for the most part like school, because I like learning. Even though my history class is boring, I think history itself is fascinating, so it makes it okay.
The problem this year is being in three college classes that give you as much homework as college. But in college, you have more time to do your homework and less school every day (at least I hope). So it's really unfortunate that I have college homework but not a college schedule.
I don't think I'm going to survive (get an A in) AP history. I hope I do. I'm working as hard as possible. But I have my doubts. I really should be writing my essay right now. Mr. Adams hasn't actually handed any of our essays, tests, or worksheets back yet, so I have no clue how I'm doing, but the tests were hard, and that can't bode well.
I think the new anxiety med I'm on is working though because I feel a lot calmer about things and a lot less obsessive and panicky about school. I hate being dependent on drugs, but I guess I will be my whole life, so I might as well get used to it.
friendly family abortion conversations
I'm reading this book, Sophie's World, about philosophy, and I was reading about Aristotle and potentialities, and remembering this argument I got into with my parents last week...
We were talking about abortion (we're all pro-life) and my mom said something about it being wrong to kill something when it had the potential to become human. And although it's stupid since I'm on the same side as her, the debating side of me couldn't resist being just a little obnoxoius and asking when exactly that was. My mom said it was a fertlilized egg. "Well what about just a non-fertilized egg?" I asked, "Doesn't that have the potential to become a human?" "Not without sperm," my mom said.
"But what about me?" I asked, "Do I not have the potential of becoming pregnant?" I had backed her into a corner with that one... "No, she said, not without sex." "But sex is the means that brings it about, sex is an agent... I right now, being a female, sitting in this chair, do have the potential of becoming pregnant. I do believe that. And if I, without sex, have the potential to become pregnant, why shouldn't an unfertilized egg have the potential to become human?"
I was just being annoying of course, but there is truth to it. I'm not sure if I agree with my mom on when it becomes murder. I don't think her potentialities argument is very strong. If it were, then every month I do not have sex, and the egg in me dies, I am committing murder, which I don't believe.
We were talking about abortion (we're all pro-life) and my mom said something about it being wrong to kill something when it had the potential to become human. And although it's stupid since I'm on the same side as her, the debating side of me couldn't resist being just a little obnoxoius and asking when exactly that was. My mom said it was a fertlilized egg. "Well what about just a non-fertilized egg?" I asked, "Doesn't that have the potential to become a human?" "Not without sperm," my mom said.
"But what about me?" I asked, "Do I not have the potential of becoming pregnant?" I had backed her into a corner with that one... "No, she said, not without sex." "But sex is the means that brings it about, sex is an agent... I right now, being a female, sitting in this chair, do have the potential of becoming pregnant. I do believe that. And if I, without sex, have the potential to become pregnant, why shouldn't an unfertilized egg have the potential to become human?"
I was just being annoying of course, but there is truth to it. I'm not sure if I agree with my mom on when it becomes murder. I don't think her potentialities argument is very strong. If it were, then every month I do not have sex, and the egg in me dies, I am committing murder, which I don't believe.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Randomly searching the web, one rediscovers opinions one previously held but forgot, on very important subjects...
MAN ORLANDO BLOOM IS HOT.
and haley joel osment (lol, especially in Pay it Forward... sad when I love prepubescent boys... must have something to do with innocence, not being able to hurt me as much...)
AND TOM WELLING.
AND ASHTON KUTCHER (it must be said).
AND ELIJAH WOOD.
And the guy in Sweet Home Alabama.
and a bunch of other guys I can't remember right now...
LOL, lesbian, yeah right.
:-)
MAN ORLANDO BLOOM IS HOT.
and haley joel osment (lol, especially in Pay it Forward... sad when I love prepubescent boys... must have something to do with innocence, not being able to hurt me as much...)
AND TOM WELLING.
AND ASHTON KUTCHER (it must be said).
AND ELIJAH WOOD.
And the guy in Sweet Home Alabama.
and a bunch of other guys I can't remember right now...
LOL, lesbian, yeah right.
:-)
important stuff
The date went well... I don't want to talk about it now. I like him a lot, and I think he will probably ask me out again. I'm okay with this, I'm ready for it. As mad as I thought my parents would be when they found out some of the things Matt and I were doing, they were actually just as overjoyed as they were mad. They were so glad I was able to have some sort of sexual life. I think they were scared for a long time that I would end up lesbian. My mom said she was worried at least. Anyway...
I'm very angry today. Same old memories. I'm not just angry about my past, I'm angry about the world in general, hurting little kids like it's okay. Even the codependent people that put up with it and don't help their kids, like my dad. He watched my brother and I get hit and shoved and choked and did nothing. Then again, we watched him get screamed at and hit and shoved without doing anything as well. Therefore I suppose I can't really be blameless when it comes to codependency. He wasn't the only one codependent on my mother.
I've spent so many years running from this anger. Overdosing on all sorts of drugs, popping xanax, high and dissociative. All of the things I did, all those drugs, all that cutting, even the eating disorder in the end, was a desperate attempt to escape from this world and my life. It is odd how I never tried to do any of that while I was being abused. No, while I was being abused I was content to stand there and let her humiliate me (I did scream back at her sometimes, but in the end I always gave up, and I never physically fought back because that just made it hurt worse, and she always won. Now, I would give anything to go back and fight it, to have the satisfaction of knowing I didn't just let it happen. But no. I don't think I was a coward. I refused to hate myself for not fighting. But there was something in me that just got too tired to fight. I got passive agressive I suppose.). But as soon as my mother and various others quite abusing me, I started trying to escape.
That's the odd thing. That escaping from the abuse was never a desperate desire of mine. The more desperate desire was to escape from myself and who I was without the abuse, to escape from the fragments the abuse left in my life. It's also odd that after the abuse ended, what I wanted more than anything was just to have it back again, and in addition to try to stone myself out of reality, I tried to abuse myself back into a comfortable world...
It's never going to go away, is it, this anger I am running from? I might as well face it, hadn't I? It's okay to be angry. It's okay Lindsay it's okay. Anger means you're healing. Anger means you're not running any longer, not floating through the days in some alternate universe induced by some drug.
IT IS OKAY FOR ME TO BE ANGRY. Anger is helfpul. I'm not angry with myself, really. I did everything I could. So I didn't fight back. So freaking what? Some people do, some people don't. By the time I was six I had the mind of a twenty-year-old. Submission came with it, in some ways. A tiredness of sorts.
I think that in life, we start out and end the same. When we are very, very young, we don't know anything about the world, and so we instinctively trust it; childlike innocence I suppose you'd call it. With growing up comes cynicism, comes doubt, comes anger, comes confusion, comes disgust with world. And from what I have seen, and sense, and what I dearly hope is right, that after a life spent in self-discovery, with old age childhood comes back. We trust the world not because we know nothing about it, but because we know everything about it, all the horror it holds, and choose to trust anyway. We are innocent not because nothing horrible has ever happened to us or we have never done anything horrible, but because we realize innocense is a state of mind, a choice, completely based on internal decisions; the world cannot take innocense away from us, no matter what we believed when we were thirty. And so we die like we were born... innocent, trusting... not because the world is perfect, or fair, or good, or anything we believed when we were young, but because we love the world, because ballance is life, because life is... worth it.
I'm probably sounding cheesy and dramatic. I know that a lot of people's lives don't end like that. But the happiest people die with a knowledge that although we as individuals and humans contain a horrible capacity for evil, we contain an equal capacity for good, and everyone has both, and most people choose good, most people choose right. It is something, to die with pity, not anger, at those that choose evil.
But right now I am not young or old, and I mistrust the world, and I see so much evil in it, and I am angry at the people that perpetrate it. And that is okay. That is middle age. That is life.
I'm very angry today. Same old memories. I'm not just angry about my past, I'm angry about the world in general, hurting little kids like it's okay. Even the codependent people that put up with it and don't help their kids, like my dad. He watched my brother and I get hit and shoved and choked and did nothing. Then again, we watched him get screamed at and hit and shoved without doing anything as well. Therefore I suppose I can't really be blameless when it comes to codependency. He wasn't the only one codependent on my mother.
I've spent so many years running from this anger. Overdosing on all sorts of drugs, popping xanax, high and dissociative. All of the things I did, all those drugs, all that cutting, even the eating disorder in the end, was a desperate attempt to escape from this world and my life. It is odd how I never tried to do any of that while I was being abused. No, while I was being abused I was content to stand there and let her humiliate me (I did scream back at her sometimes, but in the end I always gave up, and I never physically fought back because that just made it hurt worse, and she always won. Now, I would give anything to go back and fight it, to have the satisfaction of knowing I didn't just let it happen. But no. I don't think I was a coward. I refused to hate myself for not fighting. But there was something in me that just got too tired to fight. I got passive agressive I suppose.). But as soon as my mother and various others quite abusing me, I started trying to escape.
That's the odd thing. That escaping from the abuse was never a desperate desire of mine. The more desperate desire was to escape from myself and who I was without the abuse, to escape from the fragments the abuse left in my life. It's also odd that after the abuse ended, what I wanted more than anything was just to have it back again, and in addition to try to stone myself out of reality, I tried to abuse myself back into a comfortable world...
It's never going to go away, is it, this anger I am running from? I might as well face it, hadn't I? It's okay to be angry. It's okay Lindsay it's okay. Anger means you're healing. Anger means you're not running any longer, not floating through the days in some alternate universe induced by some drug.
IT IS OKAY FOR ME TO BE ANGRY. Anger is helfpul. I'm not angry with myself, really. I did everything I could. So I didn't fight back. So freaking what? Some people do, some people don't. By the time I was six I had the mind of a twenty-year-old. Submission came with it, in some ways. A tiredness of sorts.
I think that in life, we start out and end the same. When we are very, very young, we don't know anything about the world, and so we instinctively trust it; childlike innocence I suppose you'd call it. With growing up comes cynicism, comes doubt, comes anger, comes confusion, comes disgust with world. And from what I have seen, and sense, and what I dearly hope is right, that after a life spent in self-discovery, with old age childhood comes back. We trust the world not because we know nothing about it, but because we know everything about it, all the horror it holds, and choose to trust anyway. We are innocent not because nothing horrible has ever happened to us or we have never done anything horrible, but because we realize innocense is a state of mind, a choice, completely based on internal decisions; the world cannot take innocense away from us, no matter what we believed when we were thirty. And so we die like we were born... innocent, trusting... not because the world is perfect, or fair, or good, or anything we believed when we were young, but because we love the world, because ballance is life, because life is... worth it.
I'm probably sounding cheesy and dramatic. I know that a lot of people's lives don't end like that. But the happiest people die with a knowledge that although we as individuals and humans contain a horrible capacity for evil, we contain an equal capacity for good, and everyone has both, and most people choose good, most people choose right. It is something, to die with pity, not anger, at those that choose evil.
But right now I am not young or old, and I mistrust the world, and I see so much evil in it, and I am angry at the people that perpetrate it. And that is okay. That is middle age. That is life.
Friday, September 23, 2005
First dates... take... um... six or so
I'm tired and should be doing AP history, so hopefully this will be short...
I'm actually apprehensive about this date tomorrow. I really like the kid; he's a lot like Matt, actually, brilliant like Matt. And he has red hair like Matt. Maybe I'm attracted to brilliant boys with red hair.
It feels weird to be back to square one again. Worrying constantly about whether I'll look my best, or whether I'll say all the right things, and what he thinks about me... It feels weird to be back on that first date when anything is possible and everything is on the line.
I feel too tired to be going out with someone else. I don't understand myself. I'm perfectly happy being alone. I'm probably more antisocial naturally than social, although when I'm unimpeded and feeling like I'm totally myself, I like being with people. But I'm totally comfortable with solitude. I'm not sure why I'm already jumping back into the dating world. It feels so soon. I don't know. I keep telling myself it's a date. I'm not committing to anything. It's just coffee and good conversation.
And I do like him a lot.
ARGH I don't know. I remember when I was twelve and I went out with Christian (he's still my friend... he wasn't for a year after we broke up though), and I thought I was so grown up, to be holding his hand and having him walk me to the bus... Oh gosh I was so stupid to not realize it gets so much more complicated from there, and that seventh grade relationship hardly really counts...
And before that, even, when I was convinced no one would ever love me or date me or think I was pretty... I suppose it's a good thing I was wrong, but it's weird to remember.
Anyway, wish me luck tomorrow morning that I don't make an idiot of myself. I still remember that first date with Matt when I very nearly ran into a pole.
I'm actually apprehensive about this date tomorrow. I really like the kid; he's a lot like Matt, actually, brilliant like Matt. And he has red hair like Matt. Maybe I'm attracted to brilliant boys with red hair.
It feels weird to be back to square one again. Worrying constantly about whether I'll look my best, or whether I'll say all the right things, and what he thinks about me... It feels weird to be back on that first date when anything is possible and everything is on the line.
I feel too tired to be going out with someone else. I don't understand myself. I'm perfectly happy being alone. I'm probably more antisocial naturally than social, although when I'm unimpeded and feeling like I'm totally myself, I like being with people. But I'm totally comfortable with solitude. I'm not sure why I'm already jumping back into the dating world. It feels so soon. I don't know. I keep telling myself it's a date. I'm not committing to anything. It's just coffee and good conversation.
And I do like him a lot.
ARGH I don't know. I remember when I was twelve and I went out with Christian (he's still my friend... he wasn't for a year after we broke up though), and I thought I was so grown up, to be holding his hand and having him walk me to the bus... Oh gosh I was so stupid to not realize it gets so much more complicated from there, and that seventh grade relationship hardly really counts...
And before that, even, when I was convinced no one would ever love me or date me or think I was pretty... I suppose it's a good thing I was wrong, but it's weird to remember.
Anyway, wish me luck tomorrow morning that I don't make an idiot of myself. I still remember that first date with Matt when I very nearly ran into a pole.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
"Every time a child is born, the Divine reenters the world. ...That's the meaning of the Christmas story. And every time that child's purity is corrupted by society, that's the meaning of the crucifixion story." (Tom Robbins)
"The worst thing we can do to our children is to convince them that ugliness is normal." (Rene Dabos)
This makes me maddest of all: that people who are cruel and apathetic escape life unharmed while those that care, care too much you might say, are nearly always destroyed.
You could argue that those that care ultimately have the benefit of having cared, while those that are violent and cruel never truly live, and I agree with that to some extent...
But what kind of a sick, twisted society do we live in, that caring is dangerous and potentially soul-threatening and apathy is expected and safe?
It makes me so sad, to watch those people, those people that care, end up destroyed emotionally because they cared too much...
"The worst thing we can do to our children is to convince them that ugliness is normal." (Rene Dabos)
This makes me maddest of all: that people who are cruel and apathetic escape life unharmed while those that care, care too much you might say, are nearly always destroyed.
You could argue that those that care ultimately have the benefit of having cared, while those that are violent and cruel never truly live, and I agree with that to some extent...
But what kind of a sick, twisted society do we live in, that caring is dangerous and potentially soul-threatening and apathy is expected and safe?
It makes me so sad, to watch those people, those people that care, end up destroyed emotionally because they cared too much...
Well another catatonic day...
Mr. Cooper read us this quote in English class: "If a child lives with approval, he learns to live with himself" (Dorothy Law Nolts). We talked about how this was obvious, but powerful, and although he said it was obvious, something that I've never really thought about started dawning on me at that moment and grew in intensity all through debate practice and finally clarified itself as I was drivnig home:
It's not going to happen quickly, or immediately, or even soon.
I desperately need self-confidence in all areas of my life. And I have been assuming that I am doing something wrong, and that to be self-confident all I have to do is change one thing, and I will have confidence. But I'm beginning to realize that's not true. I want confidence for debate, but the next time I go into a debate round I will not be miraculously confident. I need confidence for tennis, but the next match I play I won't suddenly have it. Not for music performances either, or for all of those big things.
My whole childhood I was torn apart. My mind developed to believe that there was something inherently wrong with me, some flaw I should have been able to fix but couldn't. Others told me I was stupid and things were my fault and I believed them, with that belief of a child. And I learned to hate myself, and to believe that I was not worthy, and that I was not deserving of anything, and that I would never be good enough or smart enough or anything, and that everyone else was somehow better than me. And those sort of mindsets don't just disappear randomly because I need to win a debate tournament or hit a good forehand or land a perfect shift. These mindsets, no matter how much I now wish they'd go away, stay with me.
So I think that it begins with the little things. Every day confidence, believing in myself in class to say something that isn't stupid, and not being afraid to ask questions. Not letting people walk all over me. It starts with these things and slowly becomes the big ones. I will debate all year this year, play tennis matches, perform. I will probably never be really self-confident. But each time, I'll be a little more confident than the last.
And I think that what I never realized (idealistic thinking I suppose) was that it's going to take a long time to undo sixteen years worth of damage. What has happened to me cannot be rectified but some single, simple action.
But after these years, after this progression, after all of this, there will come a day when my existance, and only that, will be enough to validate my emotions, my personality, my life, and I will no longer need these feelings of inadequacy.
Mr. Cooper read us this quote in English class: "If a child lives with approval, he learns to live with himself" (Dorothy Law Nolts). We talked about how this was obvious, but powerful, and although he said it was obvious, something that I've never really thought about started dawning on me at that moment and grew in intensity all through debate practice and finally clarified itself as I was drivnig home:
It's not going to happen quickly, or immediately, or even soon.
I desperately need self-confidence in all areas of my life. And I have been assuming that I am doing something wrong, and that to be self-confident all I have to do is change one thing, and I will have confidence. But I'm beginning to realize that's not true. I want confidence for debate, but the next time I go into a debate round I will not be miraculously confident. I need confidence for tennis, but the next match I play I won't suddenly have it. Not for music performances either, or for all of those big things.
My whole childhood I was torn apart. My mind developed to believe that there was something inherently wrong with me, some flaw I should have been able to fix but couldn't. Others told me I was stupid and things were my fault and I believed them, with that belief of a child. And I learned to hate myself, and to believe that I was not worthy, and that I was not deserving of anything, and that I would never be good enough or smart enough or anything, and that everyone else was somehow better than me. And those sort of mindsets don't just disappear randomly because I need to win a debate tournament or hit a good forehand or land a perfect shift. These mindsets, no matter how much I now wish they'd go away, stay with me.
So I think that it begins with the little things. Every day confidence, believing in myself in class to say something that isn't stupid, and not being afraid to ask questions. Not letting people walk all over me. It starts with these things and slowly becomes the big ones. I will debate all year this year, play tennis matches, perform. I will probably never be really self-confident. But each time, I'll be a little more confident than the last.
And I think that what I never realized (idealistic thinking I suppose) was that it's going to take a long time to undo sixteen years worth of damage. What has happened to me cannot be rectified but some single, simple action.
But after these years, after this progression, after all of this, there will come a day when my existance, and only that, will be enough to validate my emotions, my personality, my life, and I will no longer need these feelings of inadequacy.
I'm so tired I've been getting five hours of sleep all week which really isn't enough for me. I'm actually past mental exhaustion, thank gosh, but I keep having these dizzy spells, and I don't walk straight, and I feel like I'm about to faint.
It's been sad, I'm gone so much that my dog is starting to gravitate towards my mom rather than me. I spend every available moment with her, but still...
This boy that I like asked me to go to coffee (non-caffeinated beverage at a coffee shop) with him and I said yes. I worried that it was still soon, I'm still trying to recover from Matt, but my friend told me to go for it. It's just one date. This boy is actually a LOT like Matt. Kinda weird. I guess my taste is consistent.
Anyway, of course right before this date thing I have to break out, when my face has been clear for weeks. Such is life. Isn't it ironic? (Alannis Moresette, though I can't spell her name, is awesome).
Well time to attack the day and my history test that I studied for at midnight...
It's been sad, I'm gone so much that my dog is starting to gravitate towards my mom rather than me. I spend every available moment with her, but still...
This boy that I like asked me to go to coffee (non-caffeinated beverage at a coffee shop) with him and I said yes. I worried that it was still soon, I'm still trying to recover from Matt, but my friend told me to go for it. It's just one date. This boy is actually a LOT like Matt. Kinda weird. I guess my taste is consistent.
Anyway, of course right before this date thing I have to break out, when my face has been clear for weeks. Such is life. Isn't it ironic? (Alannis Moresette, though I can't spell her name, is awesome).
Well time to attack the day and my history test that I studied for at midnight...
Monday, September 19, 2005
I deserve to be happy too
So I didn't get my math test yet, but I think I did okay, probably in the 93-95% range. That's kinda sad, but I can live with it.
History test this morning was really hard. The essay questions/fill-in-the-blank/define this questions were easy, but the supposedly objective multiple choice questions didn't seem very objective to me. They seemed rather confusing and subjective. And everyone else agreed... no one thinks they did great on this. I'm pretty sure I failed (and by that I mean probably about a 85-90%).
AP bio... wow I really need to study.
I'm essentially in three college classes this year, and it's starting to get to me, all the tests, homework, studying. I am most upset because I don't have as much time to read now. I love reading so much. Screw sleep. I just want to read.
Anyway about my mother. I see everyone's point. None of what she is doing is my fault. I have to realize that I have never caused her to do anything she did to me. I was just... a punching bag. Somewhere to put her anger. Well I still am. Anyway, my point is, I really want to stop letting her affect me. She can be so wonderful; I want to focus on the good side of her. I love her a lot. And I don't hate her. I feel hatred towards her at times, but I really don't hate her.
But what do I do? How do I try to keep moving our relationship towards something positive? I can't change her. I know that. So how can our relationship change if she won't change? Well, she will change in some respects... she's stopped hitting me and such. And she's WAY WAY WAY nicer to me now and healthy than she was a few years ago. I give her mega credit for that.
She's one of those people everyone's at least slightly afraid of... all of my friends are. Once when I was in seventh grade I was at a sewing lesson, which my mom's best friend was teaching, and we were talking about her, and my mom's best friend said that as much as she loved my mom (and she did, they were really close), she was also terrified of her. There is this part of my mom... this intense, dark part that I don't want to try to penetrate.
Well here's the thing. My life so far has just been a really long attempt to make my mother happy, make her not be mean to me, etc. I think now I need to just start learning to ignore the bad things she does, and work on making myself happy. I'm more important to me in the long run anyway. I deserve to be happy.
History test this morning was really hard. The essay questions/fill-in-the-blank/define this questions were easy, but the supposedly objective multiple choice questions didn't seem very objective to me. They seemed rather confusing and subjective. And everyone else agreed... no one thinks they did great on this. I'm pretty sure I failed (and by that I mean probably about a 85-90%).
AP bio... wow I really need to study.
I'm essentially in three college classes this year, and it's starting to get to me, all the tests, homework, studying. I am most upset because I don't have as much time to read now. I love reading so much. Screw sleep. I just want to read.
Anyway about my mother. I see everyone's point. None of what she is doing is my fault. I have to realize that I have never caused her to do anything she did to me. I was just... a punching bag. Somewhere to put her anger. Well I still am. Anyway, my point is, I really want to stop letting her affect me. She can be so wonderful; I want to focus on the good side of her. I love her a lot. And I don't hate her. I feel hatred towards her at times, but I really don't hate her.
But what do I do? How do I try to keep moving our relationship towards something positive? I can't change her. I know that. So how can our relationship change if she won't change? Well, she will change in some respects... she's stopped hitting me and such. And she's WAY WAY WAY nicer to me now and healthy than she was a few years ago. I give her mega credit for that.
She's one of those people everyone's at least slightly afraid of... all of my friends are. Once when I was in seventh grade I was at a sewing lesson, which my mom's best friend was teaching, and we were talking about her, and my mom's best friend said that as much as she loved my mom (and she did, they were really close), she was also terrified of her. There is this part of my mom... this intense, dark part that I don't want to try to penetrate.
Well here's the thing. My life so far has just been a really long attempt to make my mother happy, make her not be mean to me, etc. I think now I need to just start learning to ignore the bad things she does, and work on making myself happy. I'm more important to me in the long run anyway. I deserve to be happy.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
but then again she's not angelic either
My life is made of all of the most confusing things in the world...
My mom is being a jerk again today. I'm not sure what's going on with her. It's hard to deal with someone who is continually screaming.
She says she's exhausted, as she has to take care of my aunt all the time (who is slowly recovering from brain trauma).
And I know they go to a lot of places during the day, but all they do all night every night is watch television. I think it's exhausting because they talk about my aunt's husband 24-7, which is extremely obsessive, but then again we all have OCD don't we? All of us?
Too many mentally ill people in one house, one family... it's so suffocating. It means obsessions dripping off of everything, it means getting yelled at all the time, it means pain, it means people attempting suicide and talking about dying and abusing drugs... It means all the things I want to run away from and not face.
I would love to hate my mom. She's being horrid (but she's not that bad I swear), screaming at me all the time, screaming how she just got home from work and now she has to take care of the dog (which she just took from me, I was holding her in my lap). I feel my stomach squeezing (I lost a pound yesterday).
What would it feel like, to stand there in the kitchen, and say, calm and cold as ice, f*ck you?
Instead I only hate myself.
My mom is being a jerk again today. I'm not sure what's going on with her. It's hard to deal with someone who is continually screaming.
She says she's exhausted, as she has to take care of my aunt all the time (who is slowly recovering from brain trauma).
And I know they go to a lot of places during the day, but all they do all night every night is watch television. I think it's exhausting because they talk about my aunt's husband 24-7, which is extremely obsessive, but then again we all have OCD don't we? All of us?
Too many mentally ill people in one house, one family... it's so suffocating. It means obsessions dripping off of everything, it means getting yelled at all the time, it means pain, it means people attempting suicide and talking about dying and abusing drugs... It means all the things I want to run away from and not face.
I would love to hate my mom. She's being horrid (but she's not that bad I swear), screaming at me all the time, screaming how she just got home from work and now she has to take care of the dog (which she just took from me, I was holding her in my lap). I feel my stomach squeezing (I lost a pound yesterday).
What would it feel like, to stand there in the kitchen, and say, calm and cold as ice, f*ck you?
Instead I only hate myself.
Friday, September 16, 2005
correction
I think that I have made out my mother to be far worse than she is. She really has been a good mother. She's had her faults, but she's always loved me and cared about me and wanted what was best for me. And I don't want you to think that she is some monster because she is not.
They're right
Xanax helps of course. I was slightly calmer today. Actually, I guess way calmer. But I was really, really depressed. Moreso than I have been in quite a while. Everything was just so frightening and pointless. In money management we talked about jobs and getting a job, and about how work isn't fun, and 70% of Americans absolutely hate their jobs... how terrifying to hate the way you have to spend every day, to be miserable with no escape...
I will get all the education I can. I will escape that statistic. My parents did. I know I can. My brother did.
I didn't eat as much today. No matter how much I try to ignore my mother's comments, I totally agree with her. I do need to lose weight. But I do not believe I will ever be thin enough or smart enough or pretty enough for myself with the expectations I currently have. So either I will live my whole live striving for a goal I can never reach, or I will change my expectations. I'm not quite sure I'm capable of either.
I'm scared of abandonment by the only people that love me... I'm going to a play tonight with some friends. I hope that will help me rip out of this world I'm suffocating in.
I need to go run because I feel like cutting.
I will get all the education I can. I will escape that statistic. My parents did. I know I can. My brother did.
I didn't eat as much today. No matter how much I try to ignore my mother's comments, I totally agree with her. I do need to lose weight. But I do not believe I will ever be thin enough or smart enough or pretty enough for myself with the expectations I currently have. So either I will live my whole live striving for a goal I can never reach, or I will change my expectations. I'm not quite sure I'm capable of either.
I'm scared of abandonment by the only people that love me... I'm going to a play tonight with some friends. I hope that will help me rip out of this world I'm suffocating in.
I need to go run because I feel like cutting.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
But...
How do I sort it out? All the things she's called me? All those bad words, brat, dilitant, overwieght, rude, a witch, spoiled, selfish, not good enough, never quite good enough...
How do I take all those words and try to figure out which ones are true and which ones are not?
How do I take all those words and try to figure out which ones are true and which ones are not?
GRR stupid mom
I wish I understood what was wrong with me at the moment. I was so panicky and anxious again today I felt like I was on speed or something (not that I've ever tried speed... sounds interesting though). And in English I did the best out of everyone on my grammar test, and this girl next to me was crying because she flunked it, and I really, for a moment, intensely hated myself for always doing the best... 9 times out of 10 in all my classes I'm either the top score or the second top. It really, really annoys me. I just try to do my best. I don't want to try to do any worse. But I don't want to consistently do better than anyone else either. I started crying too. I couldn't help it.
And then we corrected this comma worksheet and I got a 90 because of a stupid mistake (B) and I totally beat myself up. When am I going to allow myself to be good enough for myself? And that scratch on my arm, I kept looking at it, kept saying, that's enough, this is enough, you don't need anymore. Do I?
At debate I didn't understand myself either. I'm so paranoid or something that I'll do horrible and Will will totally pass me up, which is totally irrational. I'm just scared of getting kicked off varsity. Amanda told me that too was irrational, as Brittany and I would always be the top two, but I was scared... what about the governor's kid who just had to move here? What if she abandons Brittany and me for the new novices? And how in the world will I ever be able to debate Nick, who is my friend, but who I have lately (as in the past year) been arguing with all the time for no reason just because I'm a jerk?
I don't know I don't know.
Mom called me a dilatant... that's definitely not the worst thing she's called me lately though. But I don't think it's true... I love debate and tennis so much, but more than anything debate. I'd die for debate to exist. I love it so much. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I live and go to school for debate. Brittany agrees with me on that one. I think we're both a bit nervous about being abandoned. I'm sure it's irrational. It's odd how I can be so rational about how irrational I am. A talent I guess.
Also my mom told me I'm getting "tubby"... I wanted to scream at her "NO I'M NOT!" probably because it is true, I have gained two pounds. I really need to lose that. I actually want to lose six pounds but I don't trust myself to start dieting because I get so carried away and I don't want to slide back into bulimia.
I want to go on an ice cream diet, gain fifty pounds. I could never handle that of course but I found out long ago the only way to fight my mom or get back at her is passive aggression.
What she said about me being tubby really hit a button though. Maybe I should start eating less. Maybe I should stop eating so much breakfast, and stop eating lunch entirely, and just eat dinner like last year.
And then we corrected this comma worksheet and I got a 90 because of a stupid mistake (B) and I totally beat myself up. When am I going to allow myself to be good enough for myself? And that scratch on my arm, I kept looking at it, kept saying, that's enough, this is enough, you don't need anymore. Do I?
At debate I didn't understand myself either. I'm so paranoid or something that I'll do horrible and Will will totally pass me up, which is totally irrational. I'm just scared of getting kicked off varsity. Amanda told me that too was irrational, as Brittany and I would always be the top two, but I was scared... what about the governor's kid who just had to move here? What if she abandons Brittany and me for the new novices? And how in the world will I ever be able to debate Nick, who is my friend, but who I have lately (as in the past year) been arguing with all the time for no reason just because I'm a jerk?
I don't know I don't know.
Mom called me a dilatant... that's definitely not the worst thing she's called me lately though. But I don't think it's true... I love debate and tennis so much, but more than anything debate. I'd die for debate to exist. I love it so much. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I live and go to school for debate. Brittany agrees with me on that one. I think we're both a bit nervous about being abandoned. I'm sure it's irrational. It's odd how I can be so rational about how irrational I am. A talent I guess.
Also my mom told me I'm getting "tubby"... I wanted to scream at her "NO I'M NOT!" probably because it is true, I have gained two pounds. I really need to lose that. I actually want to lose six pounds but I don't trust myself to start dieting because I get so carried away and I don't want to slide back into bulimia.
I want to go on an ice cream diet, gain fifty pounds. I could never handle that of course but I found out long ago the only way to fight my mom or get back at her is passive aggression.
What she said about me being tubby really hit a button though. Maybe I should start eating less. Maybe I should stop eating so much breakfast, and stop eating lunch entirely, and just eat dinner like last year.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
rambling
She is adorable... the cutest thing I've ever seen. I took one look at her, saw Sasha, and started sobbing in the airport. I am feeling the most complicated things... I love Zoey, but I miss Sasha so much... I really don't understand myself.
Anyway, I was rather miserable so I was on the verge of doing something stupid with a sharp object. I cut myself slightly, not really actually it didn't bleed, I scratched my arm, and then I thought, am I just going to throw away seven and a half months without a second thought? And I stopped... it was easier than I thought it would be, to stop. Before I couldn't (or wouldn't) have done it.
Well, main point: I need pull myself together, now. My homework and school needs me.
And if you're wondering why I'm posting at 12:05 A.M., I can't sleep again.
Anyway, I was rather miserable so I was on the verge of doing something stupid with a sharp object. I cut myself slightly, not really actually it didn't bleed, I scratched my arm, and then I thought, am I just going to throw away seven and a half months without a second thought? And I stopped... it was easier than I thought it would be, to stop. Before I couldn't (or wouldn't) have done it.
Well, main point: I need pull myself together, now. My homework and school needs me.
And if you're wondering why I'm posting at 12:05 A.M., I can't sleep again.
And I keep losing time... these blank places in my day, places I can't remember, but I know I was conscious because I took notes, I took tests... I can only hope whoever had control over my body at that time knew chemistry and polyatomic ions as well as I do.
I don't want this to be happening right now... I can't handle this right now in my school life, losing control for these few odd hours every day, no stopping it... D*mn it why did they do this to me? If they hadn't abused me I wouldn't be crazy like this.
We have vanilla upstairs. Dad says vanilla can get you drunk. Maybe I'll drink it tonight. It tastes like crap, but I can down it... and if I can't I'll just throw up, which would make me happy too.
WHY WHY WHY?
I don't want this to be happening right now... I can't handle this right now in my school life, losing control for these few odd hours every day, no stopping it... D*mn it why did they do this to me? If they hadn't abused me I wouldn't be crazy like this.
We have vanilla upstairs. Dad says vanilla can get you drunk. Maybe I'll drink it tonight. It tastes like crap, but I can down it... and if I can't I'll just throw up, which would make me happy too.
WHY WHY WHY?
Today was slightly better. Not quite as many crazy things going on, but a definitely imbalance, and a definite feeling that something was... wrong. I keep having these random moments of really deep suicidal depression, and the next I am laughing my head off and feeling so happy...
My mom has this really deep resentment towards my therapist, which makes sharing any sort of progress with her difficult. My mom thinks my therapist is taking over her role as mother, and that if "Terry says it" I'll do it.
Isn't this a good thing? Me finally opening up to her? Because it took almost ten years (I started with this therapist when I was seven... before that I had some weird guy that I remember feeling really uncomfortable with). Because without my therapist there's no way I'd be as happy as I am right now (well, usually am on days when I am not a hurtling human rollercoaster).
My mom resents her, deep down, we both know, for having her call social services, for having her move out... my mom knows what she was doing was wrong, but still, illogically she resents her. It sucks.
My new dog is coming tonight. We're picking her up at the airport at 11 p.m. I'm really apprehensive. Although I wasn't as psychotic today, I was extremely anxious, like really, really panicky. I hate feeling like that. I just started this new med, Buspar, for anxiety, and it's supposed to take a while to help. My psychiatrist was going to put me on Xanax, which my mom is on, but he said he wanted that to be a second option because it's so addictive. I'll say. I'm already addicted to it and I only take it every once in a while, stealing my mom's. It works, FAST. In fact I think I'll take one tonight so I'm better tomorrow...
Then again, I recognize myself becoming dependant on a drug I am definitely not prescribed, which is probably not a good thing, especially since I want more and more, make this anxiety and panic go away... maybe it would be good to go on Xanax so I would be able to take it all the time instead of randomly, in increasing dosages.
Hmm... I wonder why the notion that I am (and have been for a while, I know) abusing drugs STILL doesn't really bother me...
My mom has this really deep resentment towards my therapist, which makes sharing any sort of progress with her difficult. My mom thinks my therapist is taking over her role as mother, and that if "Terry says it" I'll do it.
Isn't this a good thing? Me finally opening up to her? Because it took almost ten years (I started with this therapist when I was seven... before that I had some weird guy that I remember feeling really uncomfortable with). Because without my therapist there's no way I'd be as happy as I am right now (well, usually am on days when I am not a hurtling human rollercoaster).
My mom resents her, deep down, we both know, for having her call social services, for having her move out... my mom knows what she was doing was wrong, but still, illogically she resents her. It sucks.
My new dog is coming tonight. We're picking her up at the airport at 11 p.m. I'm really apprehensive. Although I wasn't as psychotic today, I was extremely anxious, like really, really panicky. I hate feeling like that. I just started this new med, Buspar, for anxiety, and it's supposed to take a while to help. My psychiatrist was going to put me on Xanax, which my mom is on, but he said he wanted that to be a second option because it's so addictive. I'll say. I'm already addicted to it and I only take it every once in a while, stealing my mom's. It works, FAST. In fact I think I'll take one tonight so I'm better tomorrow...
Then again, I recognize myself becoming dependant on a drug I am definitely not prescribed, which is probably not a good thing, especially since I want more and more, make this anxiety and panic go away... maybe it would be good to go on Xanax so I would be able to take it all the time instead of randomly, in increasing dosages.
Hmm... I wonder why the notion that I am (and have been for a while, I know) abusing drugs STILL doesn't really bother me...
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Just a little impared
I hate how everything hits me when I get tired, emotionally exhausted. The psychosis is starting to creep in, slowly. Today I was sitting first in biology and they were talking about slaves and I just had this flash where I was like there on that ship and I saw this slave and I tried to get back to reality but I couldn't. And in chemistry I was looking across the room and I saw the air ripple. I literally saw it... these ripples in the air, and I felt for a moment some sort of infinity complex, something tearing me open and I almost screamed because I thought my chest was open and everything in the world was pouring out. And in English he was talking about grammar and I suddenly saw all the words coming out of his mouth diagrammed and labeled and I panicked because it was all so infinite, so forever, all that horrible grammer in blue dots around his head, swallowing him, swallowing anyone who talked, and I knew I couldn't talk anymore because I would be choked and drowned.
And things keep changing when I look at them... flickering into something else for a while and then flickering back... and I keep seeing these things that aren't really there. Hallucinations I guess.
This all comes from the bipolar, somehow... I have really severe bipolar, it comes with psychosis, but it hasn't happened in a while, I've been taking my pills (I have to take eight a day to keep me grounded to reality), but I'm tired, and my dog died, and I broke up with my boyfriend of eight months, and I can feel my mind breaking down, buckling, allowing these visions to creep in, these enlightenments (these discoveries... it really feels as if you have found out something important, something you have to tell the world, even if it is something you realize later is stupid, like that grammar thing, it seemed groundbreaking to me). The last really bad episode I had was three years ago, I was hearing voices then, and I'm not now, but I am seeing things, panicking, feeling the delusions, and I hate it. People make fun of people who have psychosis, but it's terrifying, really, not knowing what is real and what isn't...
And because this blog is the only place I swore I'd told the whole truth, not even a tiny bit of a lie, so I could have myself, all of me, in one place, complete, I suppose I'd better mention that at times like these the DID sets in... well I don't have DID, I have DDNOS or mid-continum, depending on which idiotic psychiatrist you ask. Anyway, the separation is starting inside of me again, the seperate voices and parts of my personality, squeezing out like parts of an amoeba, slowly defining themselves into personalities...
Oh, God, please stop it, I hate all of it... the DID, those people in my head, they saved my life, and I missed them when they went away from my last sort of episode because they weren't safe, but I feel so much more sane when I am one person, one personality, and I am not seeing things and feeling infinity tear open my chest...
I hate feeling crazy. I hate it I hate it.
And things keep changing when I look at them... flickering into something else for a while and then flickering back... and I keep seeing these things that aren't really there. Hallucinations I guess.
This all comes from the bipolar, somehow... I have really severe bipolar, it comes with psychosis, but it hasn't happened in a while, I've been taking my pills (I have to take eight a day to keep me grounded to reality), but I'm tired, and my dog died, and I broke up with my boyfriend of eight months, and I can feel my mind breaking down, buckling, allowing these visions to creep in, these enlightenments (these discoveries... it really feels as if you have found out something important, something you have to tell the world, even if it is something you realize later is stupid, like that grammar thing, it seemed groundbreaking to me). The last really bad episode I had was three years ago, I was hearing voices then, and I'm not now, but I am seeing things, panicking, feeling the delusions, and I hate it. People make fun of people who have psychosis, but it's terrifying, really, not knowing what is real and what isn't...
And because this blog is the only place I swore I'd told the whole truth, not even a tiny bit of a lie, so I could have myself, all of me, in one place, complete, I suppose I'd better mention that at times like these the DID sets in... well I don't have DID, I have DDNOS or mid-continum, depending on which idiotic psychiatrist you ask. Anyway, the separation is starting inside of me again, the seperate voices and parts of my personality, squeezing out like parts of an amoeba, slowly defining themselves into personalities...
Oh, God, please stop it, I hate all of it... the DID, those people in my head, they saved my life, and I missed them when they went away from my last sort of episode because they weren't safe, but I feel so much more sane when I am one person, one personality, and I am not seeing things and feeling infinity tear open my chest...
I hate feeling crazy. I hate it I hate it.
Monday, September 12, 2005
relationships times two
Wow. I'm single. It's so weird. I feel so weird. It's sad. I was remembering all these good times with Matt. We had a lot of them. We had a lot of romantic moments I will always remember. I will never forget what some things felt like...
But I guess it had to end. Our sexual desires were very different. I am in total and complete love with another guy. His morals are just so different from mine. And I guess it came to this. So now... we can be good friends. It wasn't one of those awkward, horrible breakups where you'll never be friends again. I think we can still be close.
It is odd to think I will never kiss him again, never... well I won't get into that. But a part of me will always love him, and miss that. Like, I still love him enough right now that if one of my friends were to go out with him, I would kill them both. I think love, love like we had for probably six months before it started fading, love like that will never die.
I've already started flirting with this other guy... maybe it is a bit early for that and I should slow down, give myself some time to grieve, to recover, but I don't know... I also feel this sort of excitement... I'm single again! I can flirt with whoever I want to!
I'm really in the mood for a random fling at the moment. And I think I know a perfect guy, if I can get him.
But I also need to make myself wait. A lot of times I cover up the aftermath of things with new things... and a I've been going out with Matt for almost nine months, so I think it'll take a little longer to get over that relationship.
But I guess it had to end. Our sexual desires were very different. I am in total and complete love with another guy. His morals are just so different from mine. And I guess it came to this. So now... we can be good friends. It wasn't one of those awkward, horrible breakups where you'll never be friends again. I think we can still be close.
It is odd to think I will never kiss him again, never... well I won't get into that. But a part of me will always love him, and miss that. Like, I still love him enough right now that if one of my friends were to go out with him, I would kill them both. I think love, love like we had for probably six months before it started fading, love like that will never die.
I've already started flirting with this other guy... maybe it is a bit early for that and I should slow down, give myself some time to grieve, to recover, but I don't know... I also feel this sort of excitement... I'm single again! I can flirt with whoever I want to!
I'm really in the mood for a random fling at the moment. And I think I know a perfect guy, if I can get him.
But I also need to make myself wait. A lot of times I cover up the aftermath of things with new things... and a I've been going out with Matt for almost nine months, so I think it'll take a little longer to get over that relationship.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
relationship
So I have been going out with Matt for almost nine months, and we are on the point of breaking up, mainly because he wants to have sex and watch R-rated movies and hang out with people that are high, and I don't. And a part of me really, really hates him for that... maybe hate isn't the word... I guess I can't resent him for having different morals and values than me, but still it is hard. And it is hard for me to accept that I am losing someone I love because of my religion and my convictions. But maybe it just can't work between people with very different value-systems. I guess it can't.
He wants sex, I can't do that... he isn't opposed to drugs, I am. I guess that it just can't work anymore.
Sad. I feel sad. But there is a sense of relief...
He wants sex, I can't do that... he isn't opposed to drugs, I am. I guess that it just can't work anymore.
Sad. I feel sad. But there is a sense of relief...
assumptions
I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ASSUME THINGS. Hasn't anyone figured out by now that that's really stupid and potentially dangerous?
In church today, they were talking about this girl I know, saying how we should be our friend because she's been through things we could not possibly ever imagine, we have no idea how hard it was for her. And thanks to my father, who knew their family, I happen to know I have been through quite a bit of what she has, thank you.
I don't want this to sound like a competition... what I'm saying is, people at my church assume things. They see a nice family, smart kid, another kid doiong really successfully (even if they know my brother's background in drugs), perfect family. People at church are always telling me how lucky I am.
Well NEWS FLASH. It's not always what you'd expect. It's not always the alcoholic father, the codependent mother, the neglected children. It is, quite often, but it is also that respectable, wonderful family you envy and think is perfect... it's that smart girl who you'd never believe had gone through hell like that.
Stereotypes can be so damaging and it just makes me so freaking mad... that nobody at my church, nobody, knows who I am or what I've been through, but they're happy to make assumptions about me based on superficial things.
Come on, people, wake up, families like mine keep secrets, secrets that the kids don't tell, that the spouse wouldn't dare reveal, generations of secrets so you never find out...
It's not always blaringly obvious. I'm so freaking sick of secrets, of people believing my life is easy and perfect and I am lucky. How can people be so blind?!!?!?!!!?!!!!!
In church today, they were talking about this girl I know, saying how we should be our friend because she's been through things we could not possibly ever imagine, we have no idea how hard it was for her. And thanks to my father, who knew their family, I happen to know I have been through quite a bit of what she has, thank you.
I don't want this to sound like a competition... what I'm saying is, people at my church assume things. They see a nice family, smart kid, another kid doiong really successfully (even if they know my brother's background in drugs), perfect family. People at church are always telling me how lucky I am.
Well NEWS FLASH. It's not always what you'd expect. It's not always the alcoholic father, the codependent mother, the neglected children. It is, quite often, but it is also that respectable, wonderful family you envy and think is perfect... it's that smart girl who you'd never believe had gone through hell like that.
Stereotypes can be so damaging and it just makes me so freaking mad... that nobody at my church, nobody, knows who I am or what I've been through, but they're happy to make assumptions about me based on superficial things.
Come on, people, wake up, families like mine keep secrets, secrets that the kids don't tell, that the spouse wouldn't dare reveal, generations of secrets so you never find out...
It's not always blaringly obvious. I'm so freaking sick of secrets, of people believing my life is easy and perfect and I am lucky. How can people be so blind?!!?!?!!!?!!!!!
Saturday, September 10, 2005
while i quietly go insane...
I do believe I will go crazy any moment. My mom has been so horrible yesterday and today. I think maybe she's changed/forgotten her medication, but it would be suicidal to ask her. She has been yelling at me all day, and sent me to the store four times while I was trying to do my homework to get her pop while she was lounging about watching TV.
She always mimics me (and it sounds nothing like me, she just sounds stupid but it makes me so mad), and laughs when I am very angry (when she doesn't yell or call me a bitch). I have told her for years that that just makes the situation worse because it really presses my buttons, but she's never been open to it or agreed to try to stop or anything.
I just feel so angry right now. I feel like either throwing myself off a cliff or punching my mom's face in. I don't know how to deal with this. I feel like cutting, but I won't, because I know I can get through this without it. I hate anger. I just get so mad at my mom. Sometimes I just want so, so badly to hurt her the way she's hurt me. Not necessarily physically, although I have those fantasies. No, she's hurt me way, way worse emotionally and mentally. That's how I want to destroy her. Make her feel as angry and hurt and beat up emotionally as she's made me feel. Reduce her to what she so often reduces me to. See how she feels when someone laughs in her face when she's crying and trying to talk calmly. Imitate her in high pitched voices. When she's very mad and screaming at me, make her sit on a chair for two hours without talking or making noises (noises mean more time). Make fun of her with my grandma while she is upset and needs validation. Scream at her that she is a bitch and has ruined my life. Tell her she can never do some things because she is not good enough. Make her do all of the cleaning. Tell her she's a hypochondriac and is making things up. Ass bitch little shit jerk. And I guess hit her. Hit her hit her hit her, shake her, slap her.
These are all things she has regularly done to me. I can't really imagine doing them to her, but when I am mad, they are so appealing. I know that I am the one that is allowing her to still make me angry with these (and more that I didn't mention) devastating things. But how can I not? How can I not let her get to me when she has been emotionally destroying me my whole life?
Some days she's so much better. Some days it's like all this progress we've both made never happened.
She always mimics me (and it sounds nothing like me, she just sounds stupid but it makes me so mad), and laughs when I am very angry (when she doesn't yell or call me a bitch). I have told her for years that that just makes the situation worse because it really presses my buttons, but she's never been open to it or agreed to try to stop or anything.
I just feel so angry right now. I feel like either throwing myself off a cliff or punching my mom's face in. I don't know how to deal with this. I feel like cutting, but I won't, because I know I can get through this without it. I hate anger. I just get so mad at my mom. Sometimes I just want so, so badly to hurt her the way she's hurt me. Not necessarily physically, although I have those fantasies. No, she's hurt me way, way worse emotionally and mentally. That's how I want to destroy her. Make her feel as angry and hurt and beat up emotionally as she's made me feel. Reduce her to what she so often reduces me to. See how she feels when someone laughs in her face when she's crying and trying to talk calmly. Imitate her in high pitched voices. When she's very mad and screaming at me, make her sit on a chair for two hours without talking or making noises (noises mean more time). Make fun of her with my grandma while she is upset and needs validation. Scream at her that she is a bitch and has ruined my life. Tell her she can never do some things because she is not good enough. Make her do all of the cleaning. Tell her she's a hypochondriac and is making things up. Ass bitch little shit jerk. And I guess hit her. Hit her hit her hit her, shake her, slap her.
These are all things she has regularly done to me. I can't really imagine doing them to her, but when I am mad, they are so appealing. I know that I am the one that is allowing her to still make me angry with these (and more that I didn't mention) devastating things. But how can I not? How can I not let her get to me when she has been emotionally destroying me my whole life?
Some days she's so much better. Some days it's like all this progress we've both made never happened.
Friday, September 09, 2005
random questions
If you take a baseball, and have it start ten feet from a wall, and continually move half the distance to the wall every five seconds, you'd think that it would never reach the wall... but what about when the radius of the baseball is bigger than the distance to the wall?
Nuclei (of atoms) are infinitely divisible... but nothing could ever infinitely cut them. Eventually, the size of the blade (which would be finite) would be way to big to cut the atom. So we would never see an infinite division.
What if people really don't have enough in common with their perceptions about reality (what is reality, anyway, but some projection of our consciousness? And what is consciousness but some bizarre way of making matter into nothing?) to have anything universal? An inch, a pound? What if our experiences really are too unique to possibly share anything in common? Are we living a lie? Is it possible for us to ever share an identical experience?
If the universe is expanding, what is it expanding into?
How can an electron (or any atomic/subatomic particle) be in two places at once? How can it collide with itself? At what point, what size, to quantum mechanics stop applying? Is it an abrupt termination of those laws, or gradual?
Are we all made of vacuums, considering that is mostly what atoms are made of?
Nuclei (of atoms) are infinitely divisible... but nothing could ever infinitely cut them. Eventually, the size of the blade (which would be finite) would be way to big to cut the atom. So we would never see an infinite division.
What if people really don't have enough in common with their perceptions about reality (what is reality, anyway, but some projection of our consciousness? And what is consciousness but some bizarre way of making matter into nothing?) to have anything universal? An inch, a pound? What if our experiences really are too unique to possibly share anything in common? Are we living a lie? Is it possible for us to ever share an identical experience?
If the universe is expanding, what is it expanding into?
How can an electron (or any atomic/subatomic particle) be in two places at once? How can it collide with itself? At what point, what size, to quantum mechanics stop applying? Is it an abrupt termination of those laws, or gradual?
Are we all made of vacuums, considering that is mostly what atoms are made of?
Thursday, September 08, 2005
significant events
Something of horrifying, dire significance has taken place in my life: I have discovered I like cold black olives on cold pizza. I have always hated olives, and suddenly, this bizarre twist of fate... I think it has divine significance.
Also I've been interrogating people, and most people have had their favorite color for their whole lives, while mine changed abruptly from blue to yellow in sixth grade, actually at about the time my life really started changing. I have drawn two possible conclusions from this: 1. Most people tend to make up their minds and then remain closed-minded. Even if they realize that they are changing, that their tastes are changing, they are afraid to change something as significant as a favorite color or 2. Most people's favorite colors actually do not change, and I am the outlier.
So this girl moved her from Wyoming, her name is Erin. She's in a bunch of my classes and is better at violin than I am (with some people this really bothers me... with others, like Erin, I am perfectly content to bow down). So I've sorta befriended her because I think she will fit into our friend group really well. She's SO SO nice.
Anyway, I must get back to chemistry and math and AP history and biology 2.... my teachers have decided that we are capable of bending physiological necessities such as sleeping and realizing they are actually non-mandatory functions. So, because I am so busy, I have given up my biggest schedule conflict-causing activity: sleeping.
Also I've been interrogating people, and most people have had their favorite color for their whole lives, while mine changed abruptly from blue to yellow in sixth grade, actually at about the time my life really started changing. I have drawn two possible conclusions from this: 1. Most people tend to make up their minds and then remain closed-minded. Even if they realize that they are changing, that their tastes are changing, they are afraid to change something as significant as a favorite color or 2. Most people's favorite colors actually do not change, and I am the outlier.
So this girl moved her from Wyoming, her name is Erin. She's in a bunch of my classes and is better at violin than I am (with some people this really bothers me... with others, like Erin, I am perfectly content to bow down). So I've sorta befriended her because I think she will fit into our friend group really well. She's SO SO nice.
Anyway, I must get back to chemistry and math and AP history and biology 2.... my teachers have decided that we are capable of bending physiological necessities such as sleeping and realizing they are actually non-mandatory functions. So, because I am so busy, I have given up my biggest schedule conflict-causing activity: sleeping.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
wake of grief
It's interesting, sifting through the wake of loss. Last night I got like four hours of sleep again... that crying yourself to sleep stuff is crap. It's impossible to sleep when you're crying.
I shouldn't be writing this as I am supposed to be writing my essay about how society's definition of altruism is flawed, that people are innately selfish, that the zoological definition of altruism allows for natural selfishness, that human logic and thought corrupted a natural process by deeming it "bad". It's very reminiscent of Ayn Rand... I find myself adopting some of her milder cynicism when bad things happen to me. I just don't want to offend my English teacher, who is Buddhist.
Anyway, today I sat down in the library before school, and should have been studying history or chem, but instead felt the fullness in me, and had to write, had to purge it all out... I wrote seven pages about what happened Monday morning, about the last few moments of her life. I felt a lot better after that. School is so wonderfully distracting. I find I can laugh when I am thinking of English colonization (1607?) or atomic numbers.
It's funny, thinking about loss, what it does. Everyone is so sorry... people will do anything for me right now, just because they know what happened... it's such an oppurtunity for manipulation, but everyone with an opportunity like this feels to miserable to utilize it. I keep making people look at my pictures of Zoe and Sasha... I don't care if they don't care. It's impossible for me right now to accept that the only people who really care about what happened on Monday are me and my parents.
Shauna's reaction, oddly, made the most sense to me. I told her Sasha died and she started laughing. It's really the same response as crying. I knew when she laughed that she cared more than most everyone else did. It meant a lot to me.
I shouldn't be writing this as I am supposed to be writing my essay about how society's definition of altruism is flawed, that people are innately selfish, that the zoological definition of altruism allows for natural selfishness, that human logic and thought corrupted a natural process by deeming it "bad". It's very reminiscent of Ayn Rand... I find myself adopting some of her milder cynicism when bad things happen to me. I just don't want to offend my English teacher, who is Buddhist.
Anyway, today I sat down in the library before school, and should have been studying history or chem, but instead felt the fullness in me, and had to write, had to purge it all out... I wrote seven pages about what happened Monday morning, about the last few moments of her life. I felt a lot better after that. School is so wonderfully distracting. I find I can laugh when I am thinking of English colonization (1607?) or atomic numbers.
It's funny, thinking about loss, what it does. Everyone is so sorry... people will do anything for me right now, just because they know what happened... it's such an oppurtunity for manipulation, but everyone with an opportunity like this feels to miserable to utilize it. I keep making people look at my pictures of Zoe and Sasha... I don't care if they don't care. It's impossible for me right now to accept that the only people who really care about what happened on Monday are me and my parents.
Shauna's reaction, oddly, made the most sense to me. I told her Sasha died and she started laughing. It's really the same response as crying. I knew when she laughed that she cared more than most everyone else did. It meant a lot to me.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
I didn't get much sleep last night... but I thought a lot about strength, and pain. The world has hurt me so much. The only thing I can really control is myself. So why should I go and hurt myself even more? I know who I am. I KNOW I AM BETTER THAN THAT. I don't need to self injure to feel alive or to alleviate pain. There are better ways. I did a lot of them yesterday.
It helped to be at school today. A little. I saw Amanda three times but couldn't talk to her. I kept ducking behing people or water fountains. I don't understand why, I just couldn't. But being distracted kept my mind off of the pain. Just as being busy will do. When I am alone, drving in my car, it comes back and I start crying... but at least I have avoided crying in front of anyone. It's just hte alloneness and stillness that hurts, when I start remembering again. I have pictures of her all over...
I keep thinking that if I hadn't loved her, then it wouldn't hurt this badly. But love is worth it. Love is always worth it no matter what horrible pain I am going through right now. And my demons can no longer control me. Because I have a life now and I know what I am capable of and I won't settle for less any longer.
I was looking at pictures of our new puppy. Her name is Zoe. She's really cute. She's coming next Wednesday. It will be hard... but it will help too, I think.
Sometime I'll post a pictures of her. Zoe, I mean. She looks like Sasha. Maybe even cuter. But nothing can EVER replace Sasha.
It helped to be at school today. A little. I saw Amanda three times but couldn't talk to her. I kept ducking behing people or water fountains. I don't understand why, I just couldn't. But being distracted kept my mind off of the pain. Just as being busy will do. When I am alone, drving in my car, it comes back and I start crying... but at least I have avoided crying in front of anyone. It's just hte alloneness and stillness that hurts, when I start remembering again. I have pictures of her all over...
I keep thinking that if I hadn't loved her, then it wouldn't hurt this badly. But love is worth it. Love is always worth it no matter what horrible pain I am going through right now. And my demons can no longer control me. Because I have a life now and I know what I am capable of and I won't settle for less any longer.
I was looking at pictures of our new puppy. Her name is Zoe. She's really cute. She's coming next Wednesday. It will be hard... but it will help too, I think.
Sometime I'll post a pictures of her. Zoe, I mean. She looks like Sasha. Maybe even cuter. But nothing can EVER replace Sasha.
Monday, September 05, 2005
insomnia
I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I start remembering and then I start crying again. I must go ask for a xanax. I want to go drink the vanilla in our spice cabinet. My father said it's nearly pure alcohol. Anything to make this go away.
I haven't cut yet.
I talked to my boyfriend tonight about sex and how I can't do it because of my past... he said that was hard but more importantly he wanted me to be happy. It was a distraction... but when I came home everything just hit me again.
I need something to knock me out.
Time
I'm just going to keep writing because the only way I can think of to get through this is to just get through today, and then maybe tomorrow will be a little bit easier...
My contacts are so fogged up from crying I can barely see. I probably look like a zombie I don't care. I put her doggie bed in my room with her favorite toy in it and the bandana she was wearing when she died around the toy and a picture of her above the whole thing and I was just lying there with my head in her bed... I can't stop remembering.
Time must be the only salve. With time it won't hurt as bad. I must keep reminding myself of this.
My contacts are so fogged up from crying I can barely see. I probably look like a zombie I don't care. I put her doggie bed in my room with her favorite toy in it and the bandana she was wearing when she died around the toy and a picture of her above the whole thing and I was just lying there with my head in her bed... I can't stop remembering.
Time must be the only salve. With time it won't hurt as bad. I must keep reminding myself of this.
I collapsed again playing the piano... I just started sobbing so loudly, and screaming, screaming how I wanted her back, she couldn't be dead... I'm still crying but I've calmed down a little... I haven't cut yet... maybe I'll make it...
Every time I get distracted or start to forget I see something that makes me remember, and it's just as horrible as this morning when my dad screamed "SHE'S DEAD!" and was sobbing and I saw her in his arms, flopped over... it feels like that moment every time... these waves of hurt... they just won't end...
Every time I get distracted or start to forget I see something that makes me remember, and it's just as horrible as this morning when my dad screamed "SHE'S DEAD!" and was sobbing and I saw her in his arms, flopped over... it feels like that moment every time... these waves of hurt... they just won't end...
OPERATION DON'T SELF IJURE
I'm not going to cut. I want to, so badly. But I won't. What have all these months been for. Not for throwing away.
I walk in the kitchen and step on her toys and feel as if the whole world is withering and dying around me. I see her bed and remembering putting her in it last night. I remember playing with her yesterday, throwing her stuffed tiger (which I have been caring around hugging all morning... her saliva is still on it somewhere in that matted cotton), held her on my lap, took her out potty in the rain...
I can't keep remembering.
It hurts too badly.
First in the operation I flung ice cubes into the bathtub. I watched the shatter. Picked them up and threw them harder if they didn't.
Oh my gosh it hurts so bad I can't do this I have to cut make it go away...
I CAN DO THIS...
Wow I think I'm turning schizophrenic... if it hurts this bad forever I can't live...
I can go to school tomorrow and drown myself in work and forget it, distract myself... but should I? What is the healthy thing to do? To suffer? To scream? To throw icecubes? I'd much rather drown in busyness.
I walk in the kitchen and step on her toys and feel as if the whole world is withering and dying around me. I see her bed and remembering putting her in it last night. I remember playing with her yesterday, throwing her stuffed tiger (which I have been caring around hugging all morning... her saliva is still on it somewhere in that matted cotton), held her on my lap, took her out potty in the rain...
I can't keep remembering.
It hurts too badly.
First in the operation I flung ice cubes into the bathtub. I watched the shatter. Picked them up and threw them harder if they didn't.
Oh my gosh it hurts so bad I can't do this I have to cut make it go away...
I CAN DO THIS...
Wow I think I'm turning schizophrenic... if it hurts this bad forever I can't live...
I can go to school tomorrow and drown myself in work and forget it, distract myself... but should I? What is the healthy thing to do? To suffer? To scream? To throw icecubes? I'd much rather drown in busyness.
i can't ever feel again
my baby my baby girl my doggy my puppy my angel the one i waited for so long the one i loved so much the one that was to start sleeping in bed with me tonight ran out in the street and was hit by a car and my dad tried to give her mouth to mouth the whole way my mom drove 60 in town and ran red lights but we got to the vet and they shook they're head htey didn't even TRY ANYTHING fuc* them they didn't even try
and my dad was sobbing it's the first time i've ever seen that through all our family has been through it was the death of our angel we were all crying so hard i kept imagining smashing everything in that room they put us in throwing the phone and seeing the insides split open.
i don' think i will ever feel again. i kept remembering playing with her, kept remembering holding her on my lap and hugging her and loving her and it feels like a white hot poker is driving into me.
i've stood up against so much these past seven months wind water waves but i can't get through this without cutting... i have the feeling that the real strength would be to do that and maybe i'll try but i can't be strong anymore i've been crying all morning nad i want so badly to die inside i can't live with these memories of my best friend my dog i can't live knowing i held her when she was going cold and her head flopped i can't live i can't live i want to die
everything horrible happens at once
and my dad was sobbing it's the first time i've ever seen that through all our family has been through it was the death of our angel we were all crying so hard i kept imagining smashing everything in that room they put us in throwing the phone and seeing the insides split open.
i don' think i will ever feel again. i kept remembering playing with her, kept remembering holding her on my lap and hugging her and loving her and it feels like a white hot poker is driving into me.
i've stood up against so much these past seven months wind water waves but i can't get through this without cutting... i have the feeling that the real strength would be to do that and maybe i'll try but i can't be strong anymore i've been crying all morning nad i want so badly to die inside i can't live with these memories of my best friend my dog i can't live knowing i held her when she was going cold and her head flopped i can't live i can't live i want to die
everything horrible happens at once
Sunday, September 04, 2005
falling
How will I sleep tonight, with everything happening, with all these nightmares pounding in my head, with something severed I can't find and don't know how to fix anyway... how will I ever sleep again the way I did last night like a brick trying so hard to escape from the world. I can't stop thinking about everything...
I tried watching Finding Nemo, and I couldn't even laugh at Dory, it just made me hurt I forgot how badly things can hurt... these things happen, and they're not really what happened so long ago, but they feel like they are, your mind can't tell the difference after a while, and everything from back then starts creeping from the past into the now, where it can be real, where it can eat you alive.
Oh gosh I think I feel suicidal it's been so long since I felt like this I even took the pills this morning I just kept edging away from everyone I think that if you touched me right now I would become something unspeakable something that cannot be allowed in a world like this, no matter how horrible things are when you go to sleep at night. At least you can sleep. I'll sit here and I don't know what I'll do I need to escape I'm being devoured. I need someone with me and I'm all alone and the only people that understand are separated from me by an unbreakable film. That's good I hope it protects them from the horror I create.
I tried watching Finding Nemo, and I couldn't even laugh at Dory, it just made me hurt I forgot how badly things can hurt... these things happen, and they're not really what happened so long ago, but they feel like they are, your mind can't tell the difference after a while, and everything from back then starts creeping from the past into the now, where it can be real, where it can eat you alive.
Oh gosh I think I feel suicidal it's been so long since I felt like this I even took the pills this morning I just kept edging away from everyone I think that if you touched me right now I would become something unspeakable something that cannot be allowed in a world like this, no matter how horrible things are when you go to sleep at night. At least you can sleep. I'll sit here and I don't know what I'll do I need to escape I'm being devoured. I need someone with me and I'm all alone and the only people that understand are separated from me by an unbreakable film. That's good I hope it protects them from the horror I create.
Something has happened. I have curled back into myself, lost. All day at church I felt like crying, felt the tears burn, and was ashamed of them and how dirty they were, how dirty I am, how horrible for being concrete when I needed so badly to stop something.
I have disconnected. I am floating away. It is raining big drops and I am floating away again and everything is going numb and the world is white noise muffled by raindrops.
I have disconnected. I am floating away. It is raining big drops and I am floating away again and everything is going numb and the world is white noise muffled by raindrops.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
teenage angst
I'm going to read all day today. It will be my last chance, really. From here on out it's all frantic homework and sleepless nights for nine months. Well at least I'm interested in it all.
I've been thinking about myself. I've never really fit in. I've had a lot of friends always, especially since middle school, but when I am with them there is a disconnection, something in the way. Maybe because I think so much, am so sensitive, and read so much. Maybe because I am afraid of getting close to people. But nobody's really understood me until this year, and most of my friends, though they love me dearly and I love them, seem miles and miles away.
I wonder if I will ever find a place to fit in. I fit in with my debate friends, because they are so smart and think about the things that I think about. I fit in pretty well with my boyfriend for that reason. But where will I possibly fit in the world? And what is so wrong with me that I cannot fit in?
I've been thinking about myself. I've never really fit in. I've had a lot of friends always, especially since middle school, but when I am with them there is a disconnection, something in the way. Maybe because I think so much, am so sensitive, and read so much. Maybe because I am afraid of getting close to people. But nobody's really understood me until this year, and most of my friends, though they love me dearly and I love them, seem miles and miles away.
I wonder if I will ever find a place to fit in. I fit in with my debate friends, because they are so smart and think about the things that I think about. I fit in pretty well with my boyfriend for that reason. But where will I possibly fit in the world? And what is so wrong with me that I cannot fit in?
Friday, September 02, 2005
why I will like school this year...
I thought I could handle it... those boys behind me all talking about getting stoned... everyone so braindead and stupid... (I don't mean to be mean about them, but I just don't get how they can not understand things or not care about learning at all).
I thought I could do it even though all period I felt this clawing inside me, this horrible feeling, mainly like panic, like this huge panic was welling up inside of me. And then we did this thing where we said something interesting about ourselves, and everyone said, "I worked over the summer", and this cheerleader said, "I color-coordinate my closet", and I said, "I love debate and reading philosophy" and everyone stared at me. Just like in money management yesterday when I said I wanted to maybe be a quantum physicist... they just stared. Like people like me only exist on TV. And I knew, in American history, with everyone staring at me like I was an alien, I couldn't do it.
I switched into AP American history during lunch. Matt can always help me. He's so brilliant at history. But now I have three humongous history books and like sixty (literally) pages to read from text books over the weekend. But I just heaved this huge inner sigh of relief. I guess I'm just too cut out for honors to ever be happy in a class full of stoners and cheerleaders.
In history today we took these personality tests though (before we did that interesting fact thing), and my answers ALL pointed towards rational, analytical, systematic, debating, critical, cynical etc. Basically, me. And it had a list of people with that personality type, and there were a bunch of philosophers on it... Ayn Rand, Nietzsche, Aristotle, and Hume. I thought that was interesting. But then they had these other people that they called the "Dionysans". And I thought those were the people Nietzsche was advocating, but they were the artisans, who I thought Nietzsche didn't totally like... I guess he liked them better than scientists anyway. Well I asked the teacher about that and everyone stared at me again. Intellegence is very rare in that classroom I think. But in bio today we were talking about innate behaviors (crying etc.) and I asked if violence was an innate behavior or learned. That was a cool discussion. We eventually decided that that first act of violence is innate, but the rest is learned, because someone realizes the effectiveness... sort of a trial and error. I'm still wondering if kissing is innate or learned though (I didn't dare ask), becuase if it's sexual it's innate but if it's a sign of affection like calling someone "honey" then it is learned.
In English today we got this quote: "There are things you should learn. Your past is a skeleton walking one step behind you, and your futures is a skeleton walking one step in front of you. Maybe you don't wear a watch, but your skeletons do, and they always know what time it is. Now these skeletons are made up of memories, dreams, and voices, and these can tell you the in-between, between touching and becoming. But, no matter what they do, keep walking, keep moving. And don't wear a watch... see, it is always now... the past, the future, all of it is wrapped up in the now. That's how we are, always trapped in the now." And I thought that was a really, really interesting quote. It means... you can never reach the future or the past. They don't even exist. All that concretely exists is the now. The future and the past exist entirely as structures of the mind. Which makes them possible to manipulate, as a part of ourselves, if we ever realize that we can... but we cannot live for the past, or for the future. Because they will NEVER exist. Then we are living in a dream world, in a fictional place, in the inconsistencies of our minds... all that is real is the now. And that is the only time we will gain real (not imagined or created) satisfaction to live for.
A lot of things in my life lately have all been pointing me towards this... this concept of the now being the only unchangable, constant, reliable thing, and the past and the future being malleable figments of... not our imagination... our experience I suppose. What is that immaterial part of the mind that Aristotle talks about that makes the only flaw in a material world? How can physical things like brain cells and seratonin combine into this fantastic dance and produce something... something what? Something... immaterial? It's amazing. It's... making nothing out of something. Or maybe the other way around. It's so hard to put into words. It's so... weird.
A lot of people don't realize these things I am beginning to figure out. Maybe that means I have a power to change my past and future. I understand they are not concrete. I understand that they are controlled and producted by my mind. How, I don't understand... how immateriality comes to exist.
Anyway, I love my classes this year because we can have all of these philosophical discussions (even if some people do view me as a debate freak who can't handle stupid people or easy classes). In every class but money management there are intelligent teachers willing to be all introspective with me. And that's what I've always dreamed of. And money management will be okay because Sam transferred into it. And we took a pretest today and my gosh I know NOTHING about credit cards or loans or interest or house payments and all that stuff. I think I got a 10% on that test, if not lower.
But I think this year will be better because I can think. And that keeps me engaged and interested. And I don't have to be scared of asking cool questions or saying smart things.
I thought I could do it even though all period I felt this clawing inside me, this horrible feeling, mainly like panic, like this huge panic was welling up inside of me. And then we did this thing where we said something interesting about ourselves, and everyone said, "I worked over the summer", and this cheerleader said, "I color-coordinate my closet", and I said, "I love debate and reading philosophy" and everyone stared at me. Just like in money management yesterday when I said I wanted to maybe be a quantum physicist... they just stared. Like people like me only exist on TV. And I knew, in American history, with everyone staring at me like I was an alien, I couldn't do it.
I switched into AP American history during lunch. Matt can always help me. He's so brilliant at history. But now I have three humongous history books and like sixty (literally) pages to read from text books over the weekend. But I just heaved this huge inner sigh of relief. I guess I'm just too cut out for honors to ever be happy in a class full of stoners and cheerleaders.
In history today we took these personality tests though (before we did that interesting fact thing), and my answers ALL pointed towards rational, analytical, systematic, debating, critical, cynical etc. Basically, me. And it had a list of people with that personality type, and there were a bunch of philosophers on it... Ayn Rand, Nietzsche, Aristotle, and Hume. I thought that was interesting. But then they had these other people that they called the "Dionysans". And I thought those were the people Nietzsche was advocating, but they were the artisans, who I thought Nietzsche didn't totally like... I guess he liked them better than scientists anyway. Well I asked the teacher about that and everyone stared at me again. Intellegence is very rare in that classroom I think. But in bio today we were talking about innate behaviors (crying etc.) and I asked if violence was an innate behavior or learned. That was a cool discussion. We eventually decided that that first act of violence is innate, but the rest is learned, because someone realizes the effectiveness... sort of a trial and error. I'm still wondering if kissing is innate or learned though (I didn't dare ask), becuase if it's sexual it's innate but if it's a sign of affection like calling someone "honey" then it is learned.
In English today we got this quote: "There are things you should learn. Your past is a skeleton walking one step behind you, and your futures is a skeleton walking one step in front of you. Maybe you don't wear a watch, but your skeletons do, and they always know what time it is. Now these skeletons are made up of memories, dreams, and voices, and these can tell you the in-between, between touching and becoming. But, no matter what they do, keep walking, keep moving. And don't wear a watch... see, it is always now... the past, the future, all of it is wrapped up in the now. That's how we are, always trapped in the now." And I thought that was a really, really interesting quote. It means... you can never reach the future or the past. They don't even exist. All that concretely exists is the now. The future and the past exist entirely as structures of the mind. Which makes them possible to manipulate, as a part of ourselves, if we ever realize that we can... but we cannot live for the past, or for the future. Because they will NEVER exist. Then we are living in a dream world, in a fictional place, in the inconsistencies of our minds... all that is real is the now. And that is the only time we will gain real (not imagined or created) satisfaction to live for.
A lot of things in my life lately have all been pointing me towards this... this concept of the now being the only unchangable, constant, reliable thing, and the past and the future being malleable figments of... not our imagination... our experience I suppose. What is that immaterial part of the mind that Aristotle talks about that makes the only flaw in a material world? How can physical things like brain cells and seratonin combine into this fantastic dance and produce something... something what? Something... immaterial? It's amazing. It's... making nothing out of something. Or maybe the other way around. It's so hard to put into words. It's so... weird.
A lot of people don't realize these things I am beginning to figure out. Maybe that means I have a power to change my past and future. I understand they are not concrete. I understand that they are controlled and producted by my mind. How, I don't understand... how immateriality comes to exist.
Anyway, I love my classes this year because we can have all of these philosophical discussions (even if some people do view me as a debate freak who can't handle stupid people or easy classes). In every class but money management there are intelligent teachers willing to be all introspective with me. And that's what I've always dreamed of. And money management will be okay because Sam transferred into it. And we took a pretest today and my gosh I know NOTHING about credit cards or loans or interest or house payments and all that stuff. I think I got a 10% on that test, if not lower.
But I think this year will be better because I can think. And that keeps me engaged and interested. And I don't have to be scared of asking cool questions or saying smart things.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
hmph
Remarkably, I am still alive. The first day of school is always the most boring. Also, I don't think it's hit me yet, not really. It still feels like a camp I'm going to. It will be over in a week and then I will go back to sleeping in and sitting around at coffee shops with random people for days on end. It feels so unreal to me, that I have like 180 (79?) days left of this.
I really like all my teachers, especially my English teacher. He is really, really, really good. I could tell I was going to love his class after ten minutes. He is definitely not an idiot like my old English teacher. And I have the same math teacher as last year... I like him a lot. And also I have a new chem teacher, he's really loud and scary, kind of like my mom, but Shauna's in that class with me so I'll survive, and at some point Amanda's student teaching. American history I have with a bunch of stoners... the boys behind me were going on the whole time about how many MIP's they got this summer, like it's some sort of contest to see who can get the most. It looks like it's going to be really easy. I'm tempted (very tempted) to switch into AP, no matter how hard it is, but I realize that it'll be a challenge to me to allow myself to not be challenged. Also my money management class will be easy, but looking at the course syllabus (sp?) I think it will help me a lot, because I'm rather clueless when it comes to finances.
I got into all-state orchestra playing bass... the weird thing is Mallory and Shauna didn't get in on violin, and some people that are not as good as them did. It's horrible how random the world is, and how unfair auditions can be, if you're having an off-day. Shauna/Mallory are consistently really good... the people that got in just had a random brilliant, lucky day of playing. It's what we all pray for.
I have a lot of friends in my classes which will help a lot. Except for US history... but I've already sort of made a friend in there, an aquaintance I had who also has no friends in there. And the teacher's really nice.
Today after school I had to get this pathetic $106.75 math text book at the Carroll bookstore, and it's only the first of three math books I'll need this year. And it's not even hardcover. Pathetic.
Also I had to take my calculator back to Staples (who took it back bless their hearts) because Carroll has to be all elite, and require Voyager 200's, even if they're the same freaking thing as the TI-89 titaniums. Pathetic, all of it... man college is so expensive. And I got this class for a third of the student price, and it was 1000 something... but if I actually went to Carroll, I could get a scholarship and not have to pay for it.
Mr. George, my math teacher, told me though that becuase I'm so advanced in math and I have a 4.0 and I'm involved in activities and I am taking AP classes and I scored pretty high on the ACT that I will probably get a full ride scholarship no matter where I go (unless it's like MIT or some other place I actually want to go), which is nice.
Well... school could have been worse. The world only half ended. I really think it will be better than last year though because I really like all my teachers, and I'm really interested in everything I'm taking.
We're dissecting cats the whole second semester of bio 2 though... I couldn't even handle the frogs last year, I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
And in May I have to take the AP bio test. Maybe I will take the AP American History test and just randomly study like crazy right before hand without taking the AP class... I don't know.
I must get back to glaring at this expensive math book that probably cost 10 dollars to publish.
I really like all my teachers, especially my English teacher. He is really, really, really good. I could tell I was going to love his class after ten minutes. He is definitely not an idiot like my old English teacher. And I have the same math teacher as last year... I like him a lot. And also I have a new chem teacher, he's really loud and scary, kind of like my mom, but Shauna's in that class with me so I'll survive, and at some point Amanda's student teaching. American history I have with a bunch of stoners... the boys behind me were going on the whole time about how many MIP's they got this summer, like it's some sort of contest to see who can get the most. It looks like it's going to be really easy. I'm tempted (very tempted) to switch into AP, no matter how hard it is, but I realize that it'll be a challenge to me to allow myself to not be challenged. Also my money management class will be easy, but looking at the course syllabus (sp?) I think it will help me a lot, because I'm rather clueless when it comes to finances.
I got into all-state orchestra playing bass... the weird thing is Mallory and Shauna didn't get in on violin, and some people that are not as good as them did. It's horrible how random the world is, and how unfair auditions can be, if you're having an off-day. Shauna/Mallory are consistently really good... the people that got in just had a random brilliant, lucky day of playing. It's what we all pray for.
I have a lot of friends in my classes which will help a lot. Except for US history... but I've already sort of made a friend in there, an aquaintance I had who also has no friends in there. And the teacher's really nice.
Today after school I had to get this pathetic $106.75 math text book at the Carroll bookstore, and it's only the first of three math books I'll need this year. And it's not even hardcover. Pathetic.
Also I had to take my calculator back to Staples (who took it back bless their hearts) because Carroll has to be all elite, and require Voyager 200's, even if they're the same freaking thing as the TI-89 titaniums. Pathetic, all of it... man college is so expensive. And I got this class for a third of the student price, and it was 1000 something... but if I actually went to Carroll, I could get a scholarship and not have to pay for it.
Mr. George, my math teacher, told me though that becuase I'm so advanced in math and I have a 4.0 and I'm involved in activities and I am taking AP classes and I scored pretty high on the ACT that I will probably get a full ride scholarship no matter where I go (unless it's like MIT or some other place I actually want to go), which is nice.
Well... school could have been worse. The world only half ended. I really think it will be better than last year though because I really like all my teachers, and I'm really interested in everything I'm taking.
We're dissecting cats the whole second semester of bio 2 though... I couldn't even handle the frogs last year, I'm not sure what I'm going to do.
And in May I have to take the AP bio test. Maybe I will take the AP American History test and just randomly study like crazy right before hand without taking the AP class... I don't know.
I must get back to glaring at this expensive math book that probably cost 10 dollars to publish.
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