F**k f**k f**k. I didn't take my antidepressant yesterday ( I forgot, dammit) and I didn't take today's until just a few hours ago. I guess it takes awhile to kick in. I feel so f**ked up. Ya know, this whole "journey" started out so good and now I'm just in this fucking shithole. But I wouldn't go back to my old life for all the money in the world. It would be even worse than this. Nothing ever goes right for me. People care about me but they never f**king show it. So where does that leave me? I swear to God, Jeannie shows more love for me than my mother. My mother doesn't give a shit. If she does, she sure has a funny way of showing it. Dammit. They'll be home any minute.
My stomach hurts. I feel like throwing up. I'm trying really hard not to cry. Okay, okay. Think of happy things. Think of baby rats and sunshine and libraries. No one is around and I'm bored out of my skull. James and Gina are out of town, Becky is at work. Oops. I'm outta friends! Nick is at work. Don't know about Jessie. Lets see, is there anyone f**king else? Maybe Gin wants to do something.
God forbid I should ever be like my mother. She doesn't realize that all my sister and I want is her time and attention. She never pays any attention to us, never tries to sit us down and get us to talk about what's going on in our heads. Never tries to understand. She doesn't realize that when we want her to watch a movie it isn't because we think she would enjoy herself, its because we want to spend time with her. She doesn't get that, though. I f**king hate it!
I had this whole journal I wanted to write, but so much for that. This whole day started out rotten. I went to the Stanley's party which turned out to be an M.J. and her friends from work party. Man, I hate ladies like that. It wasn't good that I hadn't had a Lexapro in awhile, so I got out. Church went smoothly. That was good. Lately I can't seem to walk out of church without feeling really pissed off. Like I just wasted my time. All the Adventist preachers are exactly the same. Seriously, they all speak the same way, have the same styles, move the same way, talk loud. They are like clones. And they all think that their sermon has some unusual twist to it, but they all have the same twist. So damn predictable. I can't stand it any more. Its all the same. And so different from the rest of the world. In a bad way, I think. Other people are always surprised by how loud Adventist preachers are.
Dammit, they're home.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
Keeps Me Going
Dammit, will my life ever slow down so I can breathe? Probably not. I’ve been asking that question for the past year and a half. Tomorrow is the worship service I’m worship team leader for. So far, almost everything has gone wrong that could. Hopefully tomorrow will be fine. It should. I know that God guards His worship time, and things have, of course, evened out without me having to do much. God still treats me as if I’m the most devout Christian in the world, even though I’m not. I really appreciate that. No one else will do that. Most people think you have to treat others according to their actions.
My sister is throwing another one of her parties. I don’t know exactly how many people are in the basement, but I’m going to guess about five or six, not including Gin. I’m holed up in my room trying to pretend there won’t be a tomorrow. I’m waking up early to go to the Stanley’s party, which starts at 9:30 AM for crying out loud. Then its straight to church for the showdown. Then after church I’m driving out of town to this lady’s house (he name is Lisa). She has 10 goats, about four horses and couple of dogs, some cats and a few bunnies. I’ll be taking care of them all next week. It will probably be fun, but right now it just looks like crap on my calendar that will hopefully turn itself into some good cash. Sunday isn’t much better. Babysitting all morning and all evening. Christmas eve somehow turned into my biggest work day. How did that happen? I think its another effect of being nineteen.
I have better feel better tomorrow, or I’m screwed. I had one of my episodes yesterday morning. Lasted over two hellish hours. Jeannie brought me over my Christmas present of lots of Sunrider. I’ve been eating it all day because I needed it to get through and because I want to get healthy enough to get through the weekend and Christmas.
Christina tells me she lost her job. I was surprised, but when I found out the reason I wasn’t. She was having some of her nightmares again and couldn’t sleep so her employers said she needed therapy. Man, that girl needs therapy for more than nightmares. I was a little ill at ease with her taking such a big job because I knew she didn’t have the mental health for it. She’s fine for things like the Grain Bin, but sheesh, that girl can’t get through the week without have all sorts of delusions and emotional breakdowns. Now that she’s gone I realize how crazy she really was. No wonder I got so exhausted talking to her. She is in all seriousness about as mature as I was at 13. And then you add all the crazy. But I dunno. I’m probably just as bad as she is. Except I have antidepressants and a sane past! Jeannie is trying to get her back to Lincoln. God help me.
I've been thinking that a small dose of loneliness is what keeps me going. I think that is I wasn't lonely at all I would have nothing. That would be it. I would lose all poetry, all artistry and the eyes at which I look at the world. I actually try not to look at the world through any eyes because that suggests conformity, being one thing with limits. I am this and that and this is my identity, therefore this is how I look at things. Pisses me off. Because I get tired of one thing really easily. I have one of the shortest attention spans. No, I try to look at the world for the world. To see it as it is, for what is there, what is happening. No eyes, no shrouds. It would suck beyond all to be with someone. Then I would have part of me spoken for. My every action would be governed by it. I wouldn't be lonely, I would have reached the top, where I m supposed to be happy. So I wouldn't be. I would be miserable because there would be nothing left. See, God is so much better because He knows and He is everything. And I'm having a hell of a time trying to explain myself and it doesn't feel better to write it all out so I'll just let it swirl inside me where I completely understand it. And the someday it will all make itself known in perfect words. Thank God there is still something in this world to write about.
I was sleepy all day and now I'm not and I should go to bed in a couple hours. Crap.
My sister is throwing another one of her parties. I don’t know exactly how many people are in the basement, but I’m going to guess about five or six, not including Gin. I’m holed up in my room trying to pretend there won’t be a tomorrow. I’m waking up early to go to the Stanley’s party, which starts at 9:30 AM for crying out loud. Then its straight to church for the showdown. Then after church I’m driving out of town to this lady’s house (he name is Lisa). She has 10 goats, about four horses and couple of dogs, some cats and a few bunnies. I’ll be taking care of them all next week. It will probably be fun, but right now it just looks like crap on my calendar that will hopefully turn itself into some good cash. Sunday isn’t much better. Babysitting all morning and all evening. Christmas eve somehow turned into my biggest work day. How did that happen? I think its another effect of being nineteen.
I have better feel better tomorrow, or I’m screwed. I had one of my episodes yesterday morning. Lasted over two hellish hours. Jeannie brought me over my Christmas present of lots of Sunrider. I’ve been eating it all day because I needed it to get through and because I want to get healthy enough to get through the weekend and Christmas.
Christina tells me she lost her job. I was surprised, but when I found out the reason I wasn’t. She was having some of her nightmares again and couldn’t sleep so her employers said she needed therapy. Man, that girl needs therapy for more than nightmares. I was a little ill at ease with her taking such a big job because I knew she didn’t have the mental health for it. She’s fine for things like the Grain Bin, but sheesh, that girl can’t get through the week without have all sorts of delusions and emotional breakdowns. Now that she’s gone I realize how crazy she really was. No wonder I got so exhausted talking to her. She is in all seriousness about as mature as I was at 13. And then you add all the crazy. But I dunno. I’m probably just as bad as she is. Except I have antidepressants and a sane past! Jeannie is trying to get her back to Lincoln. God help me.
I've been thinking that a small dose of loneliness is what keeps me going. I think that is I wasn't lonely at all I would have nothing. That would be it. I would lose all poetry, all artistry and the eyes at which I look at the world. I actually try not to look at the world through any eyes because that suggests conformity, being one thing with limits. I am this and that and this is my identity, therefore this is how I look at things. Pisses me off. Because I get tired of one thing really easily. I have one of the shortest attention spans. No, I try to look at the world for the world. To see it as it is, for what is there, what is happening. No eyes, no shrouds. It would suck beyond all to be with someone. Then I would have part of me spoken for. My every action would be governed by it. I wouldn't be lonely, I would have reached the top, where I m supposed to be happy. So I wouldn't be. I would be miserable because there would be nothing left. See, God is so much better because He knows and He is everything. And I'm having a hell of a time trying to explain myself and it doesn't feel better to write it all out so I'll just let it swirl inside me where I completely understand it. And the someday it will all make itself known in perfect words. Thank God there is still something in this world to write about.
I was sleepy all day and now I'm not and I should go to bed in a couple hours. Crap.
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