All About G

As if I didn’t have enough crap to deal with.

So, there’s pressure for me to take a summer class. Well… I don’t have much of a choice. It’s either take that class, or forget about my AT major, and if that was the case, I might as well drop out and reapply as a freshman AGAIN. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to do this because apparently it’s harder to get aid for summer courses, and I really don’t want to take out another loan. We’re having enough money trouble as it is. And it doesn’t help that it’s about $1000 for this one course, and I may have to take the other ANP course too, which is another $1000. Really, how the hell are we supposed to pay for that??? Especially with the flood repairs that still need to be done on the house, not to mention the fact that don’t we still own IC like, $400, so I can’t go back for my sophomore year? Plus there’s the car, and then there’s medical/dental stuff that needs to get taken care of…

Which leads me to my next thing; my clavicle. For all you retards who don’t know what the clavicle is, it’s your collarbone. After searching my archives, I’ve come to the conclusion that no, I didn’t inform anyone who reads this about it. So I’ll briefly inform you. My left clavicle, about a year ago (it happened last March… early March methinks), bent for an unknown reason. At the time it was hurting, I had to have it in a sling. I was gonna get referred, but I never was… stupid doctor… anyway, over time it stopped hurting. This lasted over the summer and a good ways into this semester. Now, though, it hurts. Not badly, but it’s tender, and it gets in the way of sleeping, sometimes track, lifting, and even sometimes it’ll just start randomly hurting and I won’t even be doing anything. I could be just sitting at my desk and reading or typing and it’ll start to hurt. I’ve given up trying to figure out the cause of this, but I’ve figured out that it’s looking like the only way to fix this would be to break my clavicle and reset it that way. And of all the things… I haven’t been to the hospital for any kind of emergency my whole life. I’ve never broken a bone. And now I have to do it on purpose?! COME THE FUCK ON. Having my bone INTENTIONALLY broken is one of the LAST things I’d want to do. Well… I suppose the only plus that comes out of this is that when they do it, they’ll knock me out cold with some drugs so I won’t feel it… initially. Guaranteed that I will most certainly be feeling it when I wake up. Of course, I have no idea when this is supposed to take place, because this will probably cost money… and at the moment, money is something we don’t have. So, forget fixing my clavicle, just like I may as well forget about getting braces too.

Oh, the sneakers I brought three weeks ago? There’s a tear. You would think RUNNING SNEAKERS could handle a game on indoor soccer, but I guess not. WTF. This was a waste of $20. I have no idea if the tear will turn into a hole, I don’t know how much more I can use them before they’re completely ruined. I don’t have the money to replace them; I still have to work on getting my dance costume together for the performance in a couple of weeks. What the hell am I supposed to do? Don’t even get me started on how the soccer game went…

And I don’t have the stuff needed to turn in for club soccer. I still owe them a pic, my signature, and $50. I have only one out of three of those things. :sigh: wtf… I don’t know. I really don’t.

I’m just tired of being here. I’m tired of all the work I have to put in. I’m tired of everything and I just want to come home, back to my comfortable bed, and the good/healthy food that I can actually eat. I want to play soccer or v-ball or anything with my friends Casey and Jess and Ethan. I want to kill demons of Nazis with my sister and whoever else wants to join us. But more than anything I just want to be home.

So this weekend wasn’t the best visit home I’ve ever had… I could probably say as of now it’s the worst visit home I’ve ever had. Mainly today was the worst.

Simply put, I got into another fight with my dad. This time I wasn’t even trying to be spiteful. I was trying to get a point across… obviously it didn’t work, and his issues got in the way… again. So he pissed me off… again. He was being a spiteful little bitch… again. I don’t particularly care that he thinks the last comment I told him was an insult; it was actually another point. But since HE’S a spiteful, immature little fucking brat, it doesn’t matter anymore because of the fucking shit he said.

Now I’m just so tired of it. I’m sick of it. I’m tired of his spiteful little comments that almost always hurts me to the point of tears (though this time around I’ve more or less kept the suppressed). I’m sick of him acting like the victim all the time and trying to get my sympathy especially at the times when some of the problems are his fault. I’m tired of him feeling like whenever I try to point out a fault for him to think about, I’m attacking him. And I hate it when he attacks me back just because he’s wrong and he knows it. I’m so very tired of his shit. So I’m done. I don’t need this extra stress and hurt in my life. I give up. I can’t even try to maintain this diminishing relationship with this crap, with him being a complete asshole.

Ever since he became depressed, this relationship all has been going to shit. And I can’t do anything about it, so I give up. I can’t try and give him tips to try changing his horrific lifestyle habits and make him feel better and get healthier, so I’ll let him slowly kill him self. I can’t talk to him and give him things to think about and improve, so I’ll forget about having those kinds of intelligent conversations at all, and let him assume that absolutely everyone’s fucking after him and that he’s forced to do everything when it really isn’t that way at all. I can’t interact with him while he’s in this state, so I’ll wait and hope he’ll get better, even though it looks like he probably won’t. I can’t pull him out of his own fucked up little world and let him take a look at reality, so I’ll let him live and suffer in his own world. I can’t try and help him and give him hope, so I’ll give up on him just like he’s seemed to have given up on him self.

I don’t want to have much, if anything at all, to do with him until he gets his fucking head straightened out. Let him come to my games and meets and whatever he wants to if he really wants to see me. It’s appreciated. But until he’s back to the dad that I can actually deal with without getting upset every other fucking time I talk to him, I just can’t be that close to him.

Maybe this may actually inspire him to get his head out of his fucking ass and do something with him self. But I kind of doubt it, because Dad never seemed to be the type of person to try and fix things, regardless of the negative consequences afterwards… at least until he didn’t have a choice. THEN he would try to fix it, after major amounts of damaged had been done.

And Dad, eventually you may say sorry about this little episode too. You’ll say something like “I wasn’t thinking when I said that,” or, “I was angry so I just didn’t care if what I said was hurting your feelings,” or even, “I didn’t mean any of that.” Of course, I may be wrong and you’re just going to assume this was all my fault and are waiting for me to apologize. But I’m not gonna, because I didn’t really do anything wrong. I wasn’t the one being spiteful and immature, and I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, now was I, hm? I was trying to bring up a fucking point. Besides that, I’m not going to believe you’re sorry anymore, because this happens EVERY FUCKING TIME. Nothing’s changed; nothing ever changes, and nothing ever will change. We’ll fight, again, you’ll apologize for hurting my feelings, again, and then you’ll do it a few weeks or a couple of months later… again. If you’re really sorry, prove it.

After all, actions speak louder than words.

Haha, the first time I’ve used something from a song/song title for a blog post title. But anyway, I guess I can say that that’s what the cause of my depression. To be a little more clearer, loneliness.

I believe my whole life, I’ve never really had true friends. Or, to give those credit, I’ve had very few. Mainly Jess and Casey and Ethan and Anthony (if I ever see him more than once a year), plus a couple others, are the only real friends I have. Before them, there were people whom I thought were my friends, but in reality, they did nothing but use me and hurt me. And I stuck with them for years.

See, it’s really hard for me to make friends in the first place. One of the major problems is I can’t find people that I can connect with. There are people that I can just click with, and for my entire life, I’ve only come across a handful of people that I’ve clicked with. The other part is, I wanted to be accepted by my peers, even though I was different—I thought that by being accepted, I would be able to make more friends.

I don’t know if I look it or not, but I have such a hard time trying to fit in among those I actually want to be friends with—my peers. But I can’t really do it, because I don’t know how they think. I don’t think like most people, so I can’t really fit in no matter what, now can I? For the longest time I couldn’t really understand why I felt so weird compared to the rest of my age group, so deviant, so out of the circle. I felt almost like I didn’t belong, and they didn’t want me there. The people that actually became my “friends,” I attached myself to them, desperate to have someone to be with so I wouldn’t be alone anymore. I was so desperate, I let them walk all over me, do what they want. We’d get into fights, or I’d get mad at them, but I couldn’t stay away from them because they were, seriously, all that I had.

I eventually dumped the people with whom I had relationships that didn’t give me any kind of gain or benefit. What’s the point of being friends with somebody if they don’t make you happy? I graduate, I make new friends in the forms of the four names I mentioned at the top of this entry. But it isn’t quite the same, because I really don’t think they know me, like me. But it’s really hard to truly be myself, because I’m terrified that they’ll immediately think I’m crazy and not want to hang out with me.

I was looking forward to college, you know? Everyone was telling me “Oh, it’s a whole new experience,” “The best thing that’s ever happened in my life,” “You’ll make so many new friends there.” I go to college expecting everything to be different—for once, I wanted someone to like me and get to know me, not my facade. I was wrong. Nothing changed. Nobody really talks to me here, or, to give them credit, they have very short conversations with me, and then they leave. So, I’m still alone, and I’m still lonely. No one to truly talk to, nobody who can relate with and understand me, nobody to connect with. It’s kind of painful. That empty feeling in my chest has come back, and I know I was supposed to celebrate Imbolc (part of my religion), but I’ve been in a daze and I have no motivation to do anything (I’m so sorry, Brighid). I want to sleep forever, so that I won’t be bothered by this sadness. Sleeping is something I like to do, and if it weren’t for that fact that I’d still need to eat and bathe and whatnot, sleeping forever would have been something I would have seriously thought about. I’m not always depressed like this; especially when I’m at home with my family—people who know me and like me for me. But when I think about just how I have no one to talk to at all unless I’m at home with my family, it really hurts, because it feels like it’ll only be my family that’ll accept me.

I don’t really know why it’s so hard for me to deal with being lonely, because I’ve been alone pretty much forever. The “Gina” that everyone likes is the Gina I fabricated in order to fit in; no one would like the real me. They would think I was a freak or something. Or perhaps they already did and I wasn’t aware of it.

Remember a while ago just after that flood, when I was depressed? Well, I’m starting to feel like that again. But this time I know why. It’s cause I’m really lonely, and I wish I had some friends to talk to.

I’m really low on motivation. I barely feel like running track, and running doesn’t cheer me up anymore. The only reason why I don’t skip practices is because I’m obliged to go. All I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep for a year. And this template still ticks me off. I just might revert back to the old one, because this one SUCKS.

What’s worse is that there’s nothing I can really do, because I don’t really have money to spare, and I can’t randomly go out and make friends. I’m weird when it comes to that. Not only do I have a hard time talking to people, but I need to click with someone. I can’t force myself to; I’ve tried, and it doesn’t work. And it’s just not the same. :sigh: I really wish I would stop going into these funks. They’re so damn exhausting. And it throws me off. I’ve been walking around in a daze for nearly a week. If I’m not careful I’m gonna really screw up my semester.

I need advice.

I’m sorry I can’t be a better sister and wait for you to change on your own.

I’m sorry that the only thing I can do is lose my patience and pressure you to move faster, when the only thing that does is make you feel more guilty and upset.

I’m sorry that I can’t do anything to help you because I just can’t do it.

I’m sorry that I’m aware that you’re hurting, but I don’t do the right things that will make you feel better.

I really love you Kimmie, you’re my little sister, and you’re one of my best and closest friends. I hate having to watch you do this to yourself, but whenever I start helping I can’t go about it the right way. I really wish I could just wave my hand and make everything better just like that, but I can’t.Or, wave a magic wand which will give me understanding and a solution to your problem. I wish I was more patient so I could tolerate some of the things you tells me (which sometimes really scares me what you say).

I’m so sorry Kimmie, that I’ve practically failed you as a sister and as a friend.

So… I performed in Ithaca Idol.

I’m never ever singing in front of someone not related to me, EVER AGAIN.

I had a feeling I should have changed the song I first picked, but I didn’t. Sure, I made it my own, but that wasn’t gonna stop the judges from comparing it to the original. I should have switched to something like “Fighter” or “Deja Vu” or even freakin’ “Irreplaceable.”

I’ve never felt so humiliated in my entire life.

So forget a public performance people, because Gina here isn’t good enough of a singer to actually do a good one.

This is my official freakin emo rant.

Basically, I’m pissed off at practically everything right now, and I really don’t want to be here right now. What “here” stands for, I don’t freakin know, but I just don’t want to be here right now.

So, here we go. I’m pissed off at myself for cutting my arm rather nicely after my big fight with Dad. Mom says it’s ‘ineffective,’ but it calmed me down when I did it, so I guess it works a little bit. There you go. Andy’s proof that I’m psychotic and really need to be locked up. I probably do belong in some insane asylum somewhere or something. Regardless of whether or not cutting myself works, I still feel dumb for doing it, though I’m extremely pissed off and wouldn’t mind doing it again. Stupid me of course. One wonders why everyone doesn’t hate me. No wonder everyone thinks I’m fucking incompetent, because I AM.

I’m pissed off at Steve Walker, because he doesn’t even really say goodbye. He sent me an email saying “I’m leaving. Don’t write back.” And now he’s gone! Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t come by to han gout once more with me before he left, because he never seemed to want me around. I guess he thought I was just a loser too, like the rest of the world seems to.

I’m pissed off at the Tracfone company, because they’re fucking retarded and screwed up my phone so I can’t use either my old phone or my new one until the number gets completely transferred, which can take up to two fucking weeks. Stupid company representatives who can barely talk understandable english and who are too retarded to answer a simple fucking question the right fucking way. Though they can’t possble be as retarded as me.

I’m pissed off a little bit at Dad still, because of the shit he had to say to me duirng the argument we got into. He apologized and everything, but does anyone really think saying sorry is going to make me feel all better? What he said is still getting to me, and I don’t like it. PS - the fight with Dad proves that he thinks I’m incompetent, plus it also proves that I’m just a little girl that has a fucking attitude problem and shouldn’t deserve anything because she’ll just take advantage of it.

I’m pissed off at Derek because of the shit he says about me behind my back, though I guess it isn’t really shit because it’s probably true. Perhaps I do have something against guys and perhaps I do bite their heads off whenever they blink wrong. Maybe I should turn dyke or something. The more time I spend around girls, the less time I spend being a bitch to males, because I must have something against them. Oh yea, and I’m just a moody bitchy little girl who doesn’t know how to be mature and not snap at people because I’m just a loser like that. Oh yea, he thinks I’m incompetent too.

I’m pissed off at Kimmie for not staying out of my fucking business, and for trying to give me advice because that doesn’t do anything except kill whatever self-esteem I happen to fucking have. Not to mention the fact that whenever I piss her off, she starts talking to herself about how stupid I am. See, more proof. I’M FUCKING INCOMPETENT AND A COMPLETE LOSER.

I’m also pissed at her and mom for humiliating me just a few minutes ago. It hurts to talk about someone behind their back, but talking about whatever flaw they have right while they’re lying there and treating it like a freakin conversation really is mortifying. I wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear because of that.

And now I’m getting even more pissed at myself because I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m not good enough to find anyone to go out with, because I’m too much of a fucking loser for anyone to deal with. One wonders how I managed to make friends and whatnot. I wonder if my newer friends are just dealing with me because Jessica can’t get up there without me, and they want to hang out with her because she’s actually cool and likeable. And I’m just saying all of this fucking shit and looking more and more like and idiot, but for all I know I could be right. I probably look like a retard right now saying all of this crap. My head’s starting to freakin hurt, and I hate it. And now I’m getting pissed because my eyes keep watering and it’s fucking pissing me off that I’m beginning to cry because that would mean that I’m just being a big baby. No wonder I have a hard time making friends, or getting people to like me. That’s probably why I’ve been single for almost two years straight. That’s also why I can’t seem to keep any friends who are my age and I end up having friend up to 2 years younger than me. And it always ends up that I look younger than them because I’m too dumb to know how to make myself look somewhat attractive, or least, make myself look attractive to the guys I want to actually attract.

God, why the fuck am I ranting? I’m a fucking tard. I really need to get out of here. It’s funny how all this fucking shit has to start happening RIGHT before I’m fucking leave. Well I guess that’ll be good for everyone. At least they won’t have to fucking deal with me and they can get on with their without me getting in the way. If I could scream and bitch my frustrations away, I would, but then I’d get the cops called on me for distrubing the peace. Maybe I’ll do it anyway. ‘Cause I’m stupid.

(I didn’t really scream. I’ll just hold it in and go on with my life, cause me being pissy doesn’t do anything except burdens everyone else. Noone will notice a different by… later this morning It’s 1:30am guarenteed.)