Please disregard my pathetic last post, though, without re-reading it, I'm going to hazard a guess that I feel roughly the same though to a less extreme degree.
Vacation was to be expected. There were good parts, and there were bad parts. Lets break down the list of complaints into just that, a list:
- people wanting to pet the puppy every 30 seconds (literally)
- people's annoying children at the motel
- people's annoying children at the beach
- babies
- people
- tense situations with my family
- no internet
- bad reception to talk to Lauren
- maids
- upset stomach
- burnt tongue/sunburn
Is that all? Hm.
Well, not to go overboard on the bitching, we did find a cool place to swim and the water is super clear, and a raven said hi and gave me one of his feathers (which the cats tried to eat as soon as I got home). So that was good. And I have pictures to decorate my dorm room, and two pendants. So 50-50. Not too shabby, eh?
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Thursday, August 04, 2005
This Ruined Puzzle
When you are drinking you have a drink. When you're drunk the drink has you...
...this is what I was thinking about as I painted the kitchen. Granted, I only got the window and the door done before I quit. I was painting in my tanktop and underwear so that I wouldn't get paint on my shorts. I kept dunking my face in this bowl of water to cool off. Eventually I was so soaked with sweat and water that I had to stop.
Prior to this I did the dishes. During painting I tried to get drunk on rum and coke but I really don't like the taste of rum, maybe drank a third of it, and then dumped it down the sink. I had m&ms. I left the rum glass and m&m dish in the sink with a clean paintbrush, and you know, even though I've done some of the painting I was supposed to do, and all of the dishes, I'll bet you anything I'll get spoken to about the two dishes in there, and the paintbrush, or something asinine. I'll bet you. I'll fucking bet you.
I can't handle another day like this. I can't. If I see it coming, next time, I'm going to leave... I can't do this...
I can't do anything right. I was a horrible child... I know this because my brother is still traumatized by my tantrums as a child. All the screaming and the fights. And he's probably traumatized because I hit him when I was little. I hit him a lot, but then when he got bigger than me, he hit me a lot. I also told him mean stories. I screamed a lot. A lot. I shrieked. I remember one time when I was like 6 I was in my room screaming and throwing things. I remember mom brought me apple juice or water, maybe water, and I pitched it and screamed and screamed...
Mom said that I've screamed like that since after dad died. She thinks I'm full of rage that he died. Maybe she's right about the reason I'm full of rage. But I am, I know that...
As a child I would scream to get my way. Mom would tell me to do something, I'd pitch a fit, she'd do whatever it was to prevent confrontation, be it cleaning, or whatever, that she'd wanted me to do. She'd do it to keep me from screaming. My screaming and moms reactions cause her to think she's raised me wrong. My screaming traumatized my brother and ruined his life.
I've been a lazy bitch my whole life. I always make people get me shit. I'm lazy and I'm selfish and I've ruined my moms and brothers lives.
And this summer especially, I've fucked life up royally. I went to Massachusetts and didn't tell mom all the details she needed to know, I didn't announce that I was leaving in the appropriate manner, I terrified her on the phone joking about being murdered, I laughed at her fears, I made her insane, my brother had to witness this and is mad at me, I was a lazyass and made my brother fetch me shit, when I brought Lauren home I was all over him and he all over me, I was covered in hickies, we were too touchy feely at the beach, we over analyzed movies, I over analyzed gender roles in movies, I went away from home too much, I didn't do my chores, I didn't let the puppy out when he should have been let out, I didn't turn my phone on, I didn't answer my IMs, I pissed off my brother somehow, I've made everyone uncomfortable, and God knows what else, really.
This summer was hell for my family and it's my fault. It's just plain my fault, all that's going on, it's all my fault. I'm making my life hell, and then I run away. I always run away from problems apparently, I fuck shit up and then I run away. I don't have comversations well... they turn to fights... I scream... I'm such an asshole. I'm a bad person... I really am, and there's no convincing me otherwise at this point. I've ruined two lives at least. Two and counting.
I don't want to go camping. I dearly don't want to go camping. Not even like we're going camping, we're going moteling, and I don't want to go. I can't handle two weeks alone with my family. I want to go to Massachusetts or start school right now.
I am starting to think that I must deserve this verbal violence from my brother. If mom really lost it as bad as she says she did and Shawn witnessed it and it was my fault, then I guess he's getting me back for it? I don't know if I deserve it... maybe I do.
I've started, when mom starts in on me, I just agree, say I understand, go along with whatever it is just to get it over with. If it can be done in a few minutes that's what I want, even if it means accepting that its all my fault and not arguing... what's the point? I wouldn't win anyway, and this way I save myself a lot of shit. I can deal with the fact that I have poor morals and no decency and don't do what is expected of me. I can maybe change that. Maybe I can just fake that. My real motivation now, for doing chores and not being on Lauren all the time, and all that, is just to avoid being ripped into. I know I'm a shit, I don't need to be reminded.
Maybe I'm horribly confused. At this point all I'm sure of is that I'm miserable and keep crying, can't stand being at home, dread talking to my mother, my brother hates me, and I fuck everything up. It's my fault. I shouldn't be complaining.
...this is what I was thinking about as I painted the kitchen. Granted, I only got the window and the door done before I quit. I was painting in my tanktop and underwear so that I wouldn't get paint on my shorts. I kept dunking my face in this bowl of water to cool off. Eventually I was so soaked with sweat and water that I had to stop.
Prior to this I did the dishes. During painting I tried to get drunk on rum and coke but I really don't like the taste of rum, maybe drank a third of it, and then dumped it down the sink. I had m&ms. I left the rum glass and m&m dish in the sink with a clean paintbrush, and you know, even though I've done some of the painting I was supposed to do, and all of the dishes, I'll bet you anything I'll get spoken to about the two dishes in there, and the paintbrush, or something asinine. I'll bet you. I'll fucking bet you.
I can't handle another day like this. I can't. If I see it coming, next time, I'm going to leave... I can't do this...
I can't do anything right. I was a horrible child... I know this because my brother is still traumatized by my tantrums as a child. All the screaming and the fights. And he's probably traumatized because I hit him when I was little. I hit him a lot, but then when he got bigger than me, he hit me a lot. I also told him mean stories. I screamed a lot. A lot. I shrieked. I remember one time when I was like 6 I was in my room screaming and throwing things. I remember mom brought me apple juice or water, maybe water, and I pitched it and screamed and screamed...
Mom said that I've screamed like that since after dad died. She thinks I'm full of rage that he died. Maybe she's right about the reason I'm full of rage. But I am, I know that...
As a child I would scream to get my way. Mom would tell me to do something, I'd pitch a fit, she'd do whatever it was to prevent confrontation, be it cleaning, or whatever, that she'd wanted me to do. She'd do it to keep me from screaming. My screaming and moms reactions cause her to think she's raised me wrong. My screaming traumatized my brother and ruined his life.
I've been a lazy bitch my whole life. I always make people get me shit. I'm lazy and I'm selfish and I've ruined my moms and brothers lives.
And this summer especially, I've fucked life up royally. I went to Massachusetts and didn't tell mom all the details she needed to know, I didn't announce that I was leaving in the appropriate manner, I terrified her on the phone joking about being murdered, I laughed at her fears, I made her insane, my brother had to witness this and is mad at me, I was a lazyass and made my brother fetch me shit, when I brought Lauren home I was all over him and he all over me, I was covered in hickies, we were too touchy feely at the beach, we over analyzed movies, I over analyzed gender roles in movies, I went away from home too much, I didn't do my chores, I didn't let the puppy out when he should have been let out, I didn't turn my phone on, I didn't answer my IMs, I pissed off my brother somehow, I've made everyone uncomfortable, and God knows what else, really.
This summer was hell for my family and it's my fault. It's just plain my fault, all that's going on, it's all my fault. I'm making my life hell, and then I run away. I always run away from problems apparently, I fuck shit up and then I run away. I don't have comversations well... they turn to fights... I scream... I'm such an asshole. I'm a bad person... I really am, and there's no convincing me otherwise at this point. I've ruined two lives at least. Two and counting.
I don't want to go camping. I dearly don't want to go camping. Not even like we're going camping, we're going moteling, and I don't want to go. I can't handle two weeks alone with my family. I want to go to Massachusetts or start school right now.
I am starting to think that I must deserve this verbal violence from my brother. If mom really lost it as bad as she says she did and Shawn witnessed it and it was my fault, then I guess he's getting me back for it? I don't know if I deserve it... maybe I do.
I've started, when mom starts in on me, I just agree, say I understand, go along with whatever it is just to get it over with. If it can be done in a few minutes that's what I want, even if it means accepting that its all my fault and not arguing... what's the point? I wouldn't win anyway, and this way I save myself a lot of shit. I can deal with the fact that I have poor morals and no decency and don't do what is expected of me. I can maybe change that. Maybe I can just fake that. My real motivation now, for doing chores and not being on Lauren all the time, and all that, is just to avoid being ripped into. I know I'm a shit, I don't need to be reminded.
Maybe I'm horribly confused. At this point all I'm sure of is that I'm miserable and keep crying, can't stand being at home, dread talking to my mother, my brother hates me, and I fuck everything up. It's my fault. I shouldn't be complaining.
Monday, August 01, 2005
:/
I don't really know what to say.
Lets do stream of consciousness. Begin.
I was outside in the street laying on my back looking at the sky and there were almost no stars out. Earlier I'd been doing dishes and mom informs me that its not appropriate to make out in the back field while they're gone because its public and that's not appropriate in public. Also its a problem when Lauren sits on my lap because the chairs are old and it makes my family think we're making out so that they just avoid us.
No one was outside though, except some people down the road and who really cares? I don't know. Maybe I'm just rediculous, maybe I'm totally oblivious, but I don't see why we can't at least make out outside when no ones around.
This is really frustrating. This is the kind of shit that makes me want to go back to Massachusetts or go back to college or run away from home barefoot and with no money.
To those who are about to die for free love, I salute you.
Lets do stream of consciousness. Begin.
I was outside in the street laying on my back looking at the sky and there were almost no stars out. Earlier I'd been doing dishes and mom informs me that its not appropriate to make out in the back field while they're gone because its public and that's not appropriate in public. Also its a problem when Lauren sits on my lap because the chairs are old and it makes my family think we're making out so that they just avoid us.
No one was outside though, except some people down the road and who really cares? I don't know. Maybe I'm just rediculous, maybe I'm totally oblivious, but I don't see why we can't at least make out outside when no ones around.
This is really frustrating. This is the kind of shit that makes me want to go back to Massachusetts or go back to college or run away from home barefoot and with no money.
To those who are about to die for free love, I salute you.
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