It's actually happening

So our move in date is September 6th. It's finally happening. I'm moving out of my parents' home. I'm living on my own for the first time ever. It's......it's scary, it's exciting, it's amazing. I'm really looking forward to it. Mom isn't but then again she doesn't have to. She didn't expect me to move so quickly. Well not move but get things movin' so quickly. I'm ready. I'm in a good place and I'm ready to move away from my parents. The atmosphere in the house is just.....I can't live here anymore. It hurts my heart that that's what it is, but life happens.

This weekend was good. Apparently I got beyond plastered Saturday. And apparently I get violent. I know I like to drunk dial and they wouldn't let me. So maybe that explains some of the behavior. I know I couldn't stand up straight. It was.....wild. Andrew has some bruises. For shame.

Jumbled minds

There's Dad stuff and growing up stuff and Andrew stuff and apartment stuff all jumbled around in my head. I'm a touch tired. I want to be able to say what I want to say about all of these different things, but I don't even know how to word things. So I can't write about life matters if I can't even think them out in my head. And that's frustrating. Because I want to be able to think them out. It's not sad, it just is.

I've made a decision concerning Nick. I'd like to talk to him about it first, but I'll discuss it here later. I know some people are looking forward to it. I considered your advice quite heavily people let me tell you. Yall made me think. Although Mama summed it up pretty well. Mama is the shit. Fo' sho.

Wowie woah good gracious

Guys can be funny. I've been talking to people and getting feedback and all sorts of things. I'm hanging out with Scott tomorrow. We're going mermaid hunting. (You'd have to be a photographer or Scott or I in order to get that.) It's going to be fun. I want his viewpoint on Nick. Scott is great people. I haven't talked to him face to face for the longest time. I'm excited about tomorrow.

Mom and I have talked a lot about guys in general. And specifically about Nick and Andrew and jealously and all sorts of things. It was...informative. I love when my mom just comes out with some wisdom that's just above and beyond what I expected. Hell I just love my mom. She's a great lady.

Explosion

It's like there's all this anger instead me and it keeps gushing out of me.

She's such a fucking bitch.

You Don't Know Me

I'm just....gah. I'm going to the club with Austin Howe the evening of my birthday. That and getting my industrial done are the only highlights of my birthday. The industrial is being slightly overshadowed by the fact that my mother is still trying to talk me out of it even though my birthday is on Friday. Less than a week away. It sucks. Everything sucks. I'm so sick of that bitch. Just tired. I am my own person. I will never be exactly who you want me to be. Don't be such a bitch about the fact that I'm a goddamn individual. I don't want to go to graduation. It's a fucking bogus ceremony for everyone else but me. I just want to chill and relax with fun people. I'm so over it. I'm ready to bash out some windows. I'm so fucking close to the edge. I'm ready to fuck somebody up in a serious way. I'm angry and I'm over the bullshit. SO SO SO over the bullshit. Fuck this shit. I have to do a series of things:

• Get a job.
• Get car insurance.
• Get car.
• Move the fuck out.

All of that is going to fall in the place once I get the job. Most jobs come with benefits so there's the health insurance (I didn't list that). With the check comes the place to live and the car and the insurance.

I can't take this anymore.

Some clarity and some concerns

Not just for whatever few readers I have, but for myself I need to really just lay some things out.

I went to the hospital late Saturday night/early Sunday morning. I had a severe migraine and a prolonged anxiety attack. I got dizzy, I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a few seconds. I remember my speech being a little slurred and just not being able to say what I wanted. I knew it but I couldn't get it out. It was scary and painful. I had dropped Andrew off at home and was unable to drive myself home. He didn't know I was ill and so he'd been drinking. It got to the point where I needed to go to the ER and Andrew couldn't drive me. It took about 3 hours to reach my mom. I didn't want to call an ambulance because I didn't want Tricare deciding I could have figured out a way there and charging me for it. I've learned from previous experience with Dad that it can be expensive. She came and got me and I went and they put drugs in me and sent me home. I missed work on Sunday.

It was so scary. Based on what happened to me I honestly think I had a small stroke. That's just going on what I know based on experience with my family and first aid training. When I pair that with some basic googling I did, I'm scared.

I'm crying too much to finish this now. Later.

when we shatter we form pretty patterns on the sidewalk

Well......just well. Since the last time I wrote I have talked much with many people. Actually I haven't really. I stil haven't completely tackled the way I let Stever down and I might not for a while. But it's out there and I feel a little less fake. And that's a good thing. Being or feeling fake is neither fun nor easy.

I like my job. It fits me. It's about the only thing that actually does. But hey it's still something. I just have to be on time. Being on time is going to be the bane of my existence. Truly it is. But I shall do it. It's going to take work.

As usual Andrew is Andrew. And things with Andrew are things with Andrew. I don't like them but I don't hate them either. They just are. It's the way my life has always been. Things just are. I can't have any control over anything because everyone else has to have it.

There are more and more instances popping up where I wish I was a little less stupid. A little smarter. Better. I just want to be better. Less of a slut. Less of an idiot. Less of a bad daughter. You know, despite my many many complaints, I love my parents. I'd just like to be right once in a while. I'd like to do/say the right thing. I'd like just for once to be looked at as right. Maybe I never will. That's depressing when you think about it. Which is why I don't. At least I try not to. But every now and again it pops up.

wishes

I wish I were strong enough to approach everyone I've ever disappointed and say I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry. I mean it. Can't you tell I mean it?

I know I've always fallen short. And I know I've lied. And I know I've been selfish. But damn it I'm sorry. I really am.

RMS

How do you say you can't help someone anymore because you're afraid of putting yourself in harm's way again?

Addictions are terrible things. I'm partially free of mine. I'm so proud of that. And I worked so hard for it. I don't think it's possible to be completely free from an addiction. There's always the possibility that a trigger will rear its ugly head. There's always the possibility of relapse. Always. You reach a point I like to call the functioning point and then you're through. It's the point where you've not only gotten to where you can function without your crutch physically but you're ok with that mentally.

I guess my wonder, my question, my fear is that I'm not as close to that point as I thought if I feel unsure of my ability to cope with RMS and her complete lack of will to quit. We share the same addiction. It's like she's glad that she has a problem. Which in a twisted way makes sense because everyone in her family has some kind of concrete problem that is all official and well-known and there's medication available and.....I wonder if amongst the eating disorder and the bipolar disease, the alcoholism, the ADD (complete with INSANE anger) and the Superman complex that's resulted in an inability to cope with mistakes if she just felt lost and decided she needed to stand out. I'm not saying that's why she started, I'm saying I think that's why she doesn't want to stop. Because despite verbiage to the contrary it's like she's unwilling to stop. She doesn't even really try. Believe I know it's hard. Self-injury is a bitch to fight with. But....you have to at least try to fight. When she has a couple of good days, she's not happy about the good days but seeking a trigger and excuse to wreck the good streak. Yes she saying she wants to quit but not truly trying has been going on a very long time. Maybe it's the length of time I've been exposed and not the behaviors I'm exposed to that make me feel like I can't handle it anymore without risking my recovery.

It's valid. But I still feel like a selfish bitch.

I can't afford to sacrifice my recovery. I've got too much at risk. My job, my schooling (especially in light of the VT massacre), people. I think. I'm not all together sure of where I stand with some people. But I can't risk it. And as a responsible person don't I owe it to myself to remove myself from these possible triggers? I feel like I'm backsliding. When I hit a rough patch (there have been quite a few lately) it's the first thing that pops to mind. It's like I'm taking steps backwards.

It's valid. But I still feel like a selfish bitch.

It hurts my feelings to think I'm not as far as I originally thought. I know any progress is good and I should be glad with what I have. But still.

How do you tell the friend that's been so good to you that you can't help like you said you would. How do I tell him it's gotten bigger than I can manage when I told him I'd handle it?

Hallmark Cards and Doctor Visits

Hallmark has a new collection of cards out for the occasions that are new to our time. Three examples of things you could give cards from this collection for are: someone adopting a new baby, someone reaching a year of sobriety or a new divorcee. While it is interesting that they have created cards for situations such as these, it is even more interesting that people would want to give cards in these situations in the first place. Someone manages to be sober for a year and all you can do is grab a card from Wal-Mart and sign it? What the fuck? That's a bit cheap, emotionally and hell financially speaking.

I went to the doctor Thursday. I was supposed to go on Wednesday but Mom told me the wrong date. So I was there on Thursday. I had to wait an hour to get a standby appointment and it was with a different doctor. I wasn't happy. I have Mom schedule my appointments because if they need further permission to treat, they need her because I'm 17. She didn't show. Talked to someone over the phone. I feel like she's not interested in my life because I'm not living it her way. That's fucked up if you ask me. She's my mom. I want and need her around in the appropiate amount. It's gay that she's pulling back on that because I'm not doing what she wants. I'm still living well. Getting my education. What's her deal? Anyway, I had to have x-rays of my legs. The tech complimented my legs which apparently are long enough to warrant being x-rayed in sections because my whole leg doesn't fit in a screen. Cool.

When I said I'm through, basically I'm through with you

Yes you. All of you. I'm struggling and instead of doing it under the pretense of being alone, I'm going to actually be alone. No more of this unreachable people bullshit. Fuck that. Call or im if you like, I doubt I'll answer. Comments here are appreciated, they always have been, but don't expect me to take your outreached hand and crawl out of the darkness into the light. Fuck that and fuck you.

I'm done. With all of it.

Sharing is supposed to be caring

I care, so why can't I share? I don't understand it. I like to talk. Love it actually. But when it comes to telling the people I care about that I'm struggling, I can't seem to really do it. At least not directly. I'm not sure why that is. I think it's that I don't want to hurt feelings. How do you step to someone and say, I feel abandoned. Don't they feel hurt? Especially if they feel like lately they've been doing great as far as supporting you goes.

When I'm in pain is when it bothers me the most to hurt others. But that doesn't help me. I feel like I'm bleeding on the inside. I hurt. Not just emotionally, but it's coming out physically. I have back pain and wretched leg cramps. It hurts to walk and it hurts to sit. So basically I can lay down and sleep. And I'm so so so awesomely tired. And my stomach is just constantly churning. I feel and I'm sure look like shit.

I'm craving it

It's like meth for me.

I want it so bad. I can feel the bite of the knife as my flesh opens up and blood spills out washing away the irritation, the agitation, the hurt feelings.

I can feel the heat of the lighter as fire burns away the disappointment and the pain.

And yet I am unharmed. I've cried a lot today (I haven't gone to sleep yet so my day is not over) but I am essentially unharmed.

Why you ask?

• Stevie
• Mommy
• Andrew

Not that the bottom two give two shits about me right now. One is wrapped up in her husband and her son, the other in some new chick that will surely fuck him over and use him and leave me to clean up the mess and put sweet pea back together again. It's all very Humpty-Dumpty. I am the king's horses AND his men.....and it's a fight to put him back together again.

It'd be really nice if someone took care of me for once.

Peekabo!

So it's been a while since I've been on here to write something. I have been reading the blogs of others, but I've also been very busy. That and my father fucked up the internet at my house. I barely get any internet time. It sucks. But then again lots of things suck. I've been spending a lot of time at Andrew's place so that has something to do with it too. My job at Farm Fresh is sucking right now. I mean really really sucking. I have to find a new one. Let's hope that the job I'm trying to get with FedEx goes through. Cross fingers and all that shit. My head hurts a shit load right now. I mean like someone sharpened a standard sized pipe and stabbed me right above my left eye with it. It hurts so so so damn bad. Today is Valentine's Day. I personally think it's a pointless commercial holiday. I mean totally pointless. But maybe that's just because I never ever get anything and I'm horribly bitter. That probably has a good deal to do with it. I do so much for people and I get shit. Shit as in nothing what so ever. I might be moving out of my house and getting an apartment with Andrew. Well that's not all true. I will most definitely move out of my house. I MIGHT move in with Andrew. That's....interesting and complicated. I'm going to go try to remove my head now because it's bothering me. Actually I'm going to finish the rest of what I needed to do online so I can hurry up and leave Andrew's. Cause that's where I am now. If I could only cast off what offends me.....there'd be no me left. A lot of me and the people around me offend me. Eh whatever.

I haven't been spending a lot of time at home lately as I'm sure you can tell. I'm very unhappy working at Kat's but it's still better than my house and so I chill there a lot. I'm not unhappy because her kids are all that difficult. It's just that I don't get paid enough to do what I do for them. I do a lot of shit. But it's dependable money so I do it. I'm getting to resent the FUCK out of it though. I mean the fuck. Aggravated by like everything. That's what I am at this point. Anywho, my family misses me, the extra driver. Not me, the sister or the daughter. Which is some shit. But I digress. Actually I don't. My headache that I got like ten minutes ago has very quickly progressed into a migraine. Which sucks because I can not drive myself home now. Motherfuckin sonofagoddamnbitch. I wanted to go home. I actually wanted to be at my house for once. That's so rare. And instead I'm stuck here. Nice. Grr. The point of this new paragraph though was that my mother either wants me to spend more time at home and "contribute" more (whatever the fuck that means) or pay storage fees for my shit. HA!! Fuck that. Fuck that in the ass.

maybe i am violent?

Payback...it's a bitch

My brother got his permit yesterday.

My mother thought I was difficult. She'd whine and complain about me driving. I told her Matt would be ten times worse and she'd be sorry about bitchin'.

And now the time has come. HaHa!!!!

I'm lazy what else is there to say?

Some real shit has gone down over the past couple of days. And while I'm tempted to get into all of it and discuss it, I did all of that in my head. And maybe full disclosure isn't really the best course of action all of the time. Basically though, it's be forcefully brought to my attention that I really need to learn how to stand alone. I'm really just cutting out the crap. Doing a little bit more for me. Cause I really am my best resource.
I hate driving sometimes. I mean really really hate it. It makes me homicidal. And I don't really need any help with that. We all know that.
I'm starting to resent my family more and more as my senior year goes by. I'm really developing a hate. My senior year is just...shitty. I'm not having any memories to go to college with. We're not doing anything really for Thanksgiving. It's just....Momma wouldn't get it. So I'm just gonna shut up about it.

You're so demanding

I try.

Really really hard. Quit asking me for more than I'm capable of. Just stop already. You're killing me.

In a box

Oftentimes I feel like the world is trying to box me in with a variety of things. Negative words, mean words.....I guess you could say words in general.

I'm just tired. My mother's a bitch. Sorry to say. Just because your asshole of a husband is sick doesn't mean you get to be bitchy to me. In fact you should be nicer to make it a little easier to ignore his bitch ass. Because I can't stand him really sometimes.

I'm just full of anger right now at a bunch of small shit. And the problem with that is that people keep shoving me into these fucking itty bitty boxes and so the anger is smothering me. I'm tired of hyperventilating until I pass out because I'm trying to hold my rage in so I don't break anything. That gets old. Quickly. Very quickly.

I'm still fat. Still unlovable. Still displeased.

I do believe it's time for some retail therapy, no?

I hung out with Alyssa and Joanie tonight and it was fun. The only fun of the day really. Thank God I quit Sonic. If I hadn't I would have quit now.

Maybe...

I'm not as sick of the status quo as I like to think that I am. After all, if I were, I'd like to think I would have changed it by now. So, I guess I'm quite complacent and I just don't know it.

I have been reassured of something recently so that's good I guess. It's good to be aware of stuff. Also it makes it easier to share things with you guys. You three lone people. I haven't met anyone through this particular blog. I do tons of things that should result in stables of new friends and I still end up lonely. Cause apparently I'm a bitch. But if being honest makes me a bitch then I'm not changing for anyone. Cause I enjoy being a bitch. So yeah. Suck it.

There's this cute guy. His name is Brandon. I wasn't upfront with him and so he's not speaking to me. And I'm saddened by this because he was cute and funny and really easy to talk to. I haven't known him very long at all, but based on our few conversations, I really want to get to know him better. And I fucked that up. Much like I fuck up everything else.

I've made an important college decision. I'm going to get an apartment and go straight to work. To allow myself and my mother to save up more money so she can get some bills paid up. We were in no way shape or form prepared for a rainy day such as this. A couple of thousand dollars worth of bills got slammed on my mother from hidden credit cards my father got. So I'm just going to wait.

Only in my house

Last night. Or Monday morning to be as accurate as possible. It was around one am. I'd been upstairs looking for a flash drive so I could set up the new wireless network since I can't seem to find all the right codes to access the one we have here. Plus I figure if I set it up then I'll just know everything and can get everyone on track. We have two desktops and two laptops, it'd be nice if everyone could get online at the same time. Anyway, I come downstairs after doing that to just hack into my neighbor's wireless and show some love to my new laptop, which I'm on, and my mother is in the kitchen. She is making (and drinking) mimosas. At one in the morning.

Only at my house. Only at my house.