- Created By stars go bye
I know this...it's me...it truly is, me.
No, seriously. Last night, I was trying to distract myself by going on Google and typing in random things into the search bar, and I came across this website.
http://www.queendom.com/advices/advice.htm?advice=222
It surprised me a tad bit, and in some parts of it, I recognized a bit of myself. Although, I'm pretty sure that a whole lot of people could relate to that, so who ever reads this, I strongly recommend looking at it and see if you could relate.
Anyways, after some thinking, crying, and abusing myself, I've come to...well, not crying and abusing myself for one thing. However, I've been thinking, a lot. Ever since my reluctance to get out of bed this morning, I've been thinking...my eyes were even leaking on the way to school. I really didn't want to go to school today, but I figured that I needed to be away from home for awhile, and school was my only reasonable alternate. Physics was torture. I failed a test. It was so cold in the room, that my ankle I had sprained several times began to hurt and my head began to throb (my body gets crazy when I've been cold for a certain period of time). I could barely focus on anything, and when I tried to focus on the problem right in front of me, all I could think about was the most dramatic thing in my life's list of current events. Truth is, I'm still really shaken by what happened. I'm so afraid to approach.
Last night I painted my nails blue. Blue is supposed to release calming hormones into the brain. I also have a blue hair band that I've been wearing around my wrist, so that if I go nuts inside my mind I simply pull it by the metal clasp several times so that it slaps me back to earth. I also cut myself, but don't be alarmed. That was a complete accident, but a rather interesting one, in fact. I was working on an art project that just so happens to be scratchboard. This is where the paper (or board) that you are working with is black (darkness), and you have to scratch away the white, or whatever color is underneath the black (lightness). In order for me to scratch it away, I need to use sharp things, one of which (and my favorite one to use) is this scratching tool that looks like a "mini spear", although my friends tend to call it my "artistic shank". Let's just say that while the hand that was holding my mini spear went to go on my lap, it collided with my other hand, thus scratching my flesh. I examined my cut, and was oddly fascinated by it. The cut was perfect, as though I had scratched into my own flesh, which, in reality I did. But it looked just like the way it would on scratchboard, minus the blood. I checked the mini spear and saw that it had taken my flesh with it, since a wad of it was on it, and when I presented my findings to everyone, they all thought it was weird.
Well...back to my thoughts now that I've talked about my methods of coping with this...
I was so surprised to find that my male parental still acknowledges me. I was surprised really, and one of the reasons why my eyes were leaking this morning, was that I had come to the conclusion that I could have possibly given them a tremendous amount of pain and disappointment. If there's anything that I've learned from them, it's to always give people the benefit of the doubt, and to walk in their shoes for awhile, because no one knows exactly what anyone else goes through. Lately, I have been a selfish child. Yes, even though I wanted so badly for them to listen, I guess they thought that I was going to throw away everything that we had worked towards. Besides that point, my female parental still terrifies me, and after what she said last night, I don't think I can handle facing her, or even hearing her voice...at least, not now. Such cruelty, accusations, everything was so loud. Naturally he would side with her, although he didn't say much. But, this morning, I didn't even have to wake him up to bring me to school. And when I finally forced myself to get out of the house, he had packed a breakfast for me to eat. I didn't have dinner last night. I've noticed lately that whenever we would have silent car rides, he would try to break the silence by saying a little thing here and there. And this morning, he was checking on me, and was nice enough to not say anything to me when tears began to break through my somewhat emotionless treatment I was giving him and despite that, he was still patient with me when I would just shake my head at the questions he'd ask. I feel like such a terrible person. After I got my rejection letter, the next morning, taking me to school, he offered me sympathy. This makes me think of this quote I had come across a few years ago.
"Practice random acts of kindness. They will strengthen the fainthearted, confuse the hardhearted, and comfort the disheartened."
I suppose, my heart falls within every single one of those categories and my dad has been trying his best in little ways to let me know that he's there for me, and I've just been too wrapped up in trying to figure out my life that I haven't really taken the time to really stop and observe what's been happening until this morning. I'm such a horrible daughter.
End
