Actually, tomorrow marks the day of my 1st full week since moving in.
Right now I'm currently sitting in the only air-conditioned room in the whole dorm building: a study lounge.
My roommate is sitting next to me currently, reading for one of her assignments.
Also, there's like a 2 person band in the room. Just one person playing the guitar and another singing. Coincidently the person singing I went to high school with.
They aren't too bad.
I'm bored, but I don't want to watch anything online because I want to listen to them, but I don't know what else to do.
Anyways, yesterday I made my first transgender friend. She's nice, and really blunt. She doesn't go around the bull shit and just tells the truth. I used to have a hard time saying my R's when I was a kid, and once in a while it comes back up again, especially if I talk a lot more than normal. And she kept asking questions and I was nervous and talking a lot, and so I started to slip in the whole speech problem again. She wasn't afraid to tell me that she noticed it. So that's interesting.
It's so hot here, and our dorm doesn't have air conditioning. We have 3 fans going constantly, yet you're always sticky with sweat. I cannot wait for the fall and winter to be here, because I really like blankets and I miss sleeping in them. I also really like sweaters and sweatshits.
Today was the first art club meeting. It was interesting. We met in a lounge-type place and then moved because part of the band was practicing there. So we went to the annex building, which was an artistically-cool place. First thing you should know about it: It smells like hot bees wax. Literally. A guy (I think his name is Steve) is a fabric artist and was doing some sort of technique where you do something with hot bees wax. Second thing you should know: It's getting torn down next year. So, the college has given us permission to use go ahead and paint everything: The walls, the floors, the ceilings. And people have already started this project. I'm just hoping I can get my hands on it. I want to paint the windows. We agreed that our slogan is "Listen to your art" so I want to paint that on the windows, backwards of course so when you look at it through the window you can read it. And then at the word "art" I want to do splatter paint or something.
Friday, August 22, 2014
Friday, August 8, 2014
The Benefits of being Home Alone
My family all just left for vacation, meaning I'm home alone for a few days. Today is Friday, I'm going camping Monday, coming back Wednesday, and then be home alone again for a couple more days until Friday.
I'm 18, but I've never been home alone for more than a day. Usually at least my sister is with me.
So, I decided to make a list of the benefits of being home alone.
I'm 18, but I've never been home alone for more than a day. Usually at least my sister is with me.
So, I decided to make a list of the benefits of being home alone.
- Playing music as loud as I want
- Staying in my PJ's all day without anyone complaining
- Scream at the top of my lungs
- Have breakfast for dinner, and vice versa.
- Pee with the bathroom door open.
- Run throughout the house
- Be able to go anywhere I please, without telling anyone
- Get the TV whenever I want
- Turn off the AC and leave the windows open.
That's all I can think of at the moment. Of course I do have a few responsibilities such as walking my sister's dogs once in a while. But that isn't a problem.
Going to see in a friend can hang out with me tomorrow.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
My Greatest Fear
If I didn't know you very well, and you asked me what my greatest fear was, I would say it was spiders. Because, let's be honest, they're creepy little things. But lately I've come to realize that my greatest fear isn't spiders, or tornados or heights, it's not belonging somewhere.
My family isn't the greatest family. In fact some days I hate them. I have my reasons. I'm not some rebellious teenage punk that just says that because they won't let me go to a concert. I am an 18 year old almost-college student that has had her trials and have seen how my family really is.
I don't belong with them. I almost don't really belong with anyone. What I really want is a group of friends that I can consider a family. And currently, I'm trying to squeeze my way in one.
This group of friends seem like they're a family. They have inside jokes and they can easily find time for one another. That's what I want. I've only out with them two times now, and we have a 3-day camping trip coming up. I have a couple friends that I've been friends with for a couple years and that's my "way in" I suppose you can put it.
I hope this camping trip goes well. I just want to have a family of friends that I can feel at home with.
My family isn't the greatest family. In fact some days I hate them. I have my reasons. I'm not some rebellious teenage punk that just says that because they won't let me go to a concert. I am an 18 year old almost-college student that has had her trials and have seen how my family really is.
I don't belong with them. I almost don't really belong with anyone. What I really want is a group of friends that I can consider a family. And currently, I'm trying to squeeze my way in one.
This group of friends seem like they're a family. They have inside jokes and they can easily find time for one another. That's what I want. I've only out with them two times now, and we have a 3-day camping trip coming up. I have a couple friends that I've been friends with for a couple years and that's my "way in" I suppose you can put it.
I hope this camping trip goes well. I just want to have a family of friends that I can feel at home with.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Life Ain't Fair: August
So I haven't really posted in a while, and I highly doubt anyone actually keeps up with these, but if you do thank you :)
I decided it's time to talk about what happened last August, since it's going to be the one year anniversary in a couple weeks.
I want to make a note that this is kind of serious, and I know I need therapy for this (actually needed help with it a long time ago but I have parental issues) and am planning on seeing the campus therapist when school does start, which in only in a few weeks.
Okay, here we go.
My brother and I were pretty close. He helped shape me who I am today, with liking nerdy stuff like Legend of Zelda and Doctor Who. But after doing a bit of research, I learn that he was sexually abusive. Of course, I didn't even think about it until what happened.
He molested me.
He did it while our family was at vacation a couple hours from where we live. He was 30 at the time, and I was 17, a month shy of being 18. He did it to me several times, I want to say maybe 3 or 4 times, but I'm not sure.
I kept this a secret for a few months until about October or November, when I did tell a few friends. But no adults knew until late March, when I told someone at the High School I was attending. She then helped me tell the school officer. He told me that since I froze, instead of fighting back, then the only thing I could charge him with would probably be incest.
Since I was 18, I had the decision of telling my parents or not, otherwise they would have no choice but to tell. I set up a meeting with the officer and my dad, which was kind of frustrating because of cranky teachers and the officer being late back from his lunch break, but we did eventually get the chance to tell my dad. I had a friend come in with me for support, who was the first person I told about it. I wanted my dad to tell Mom because a.) it's hard for her to get off work, while my dad had the day off that day and b.) because Mom can be a bit... overreacting at times.
My dad was supportive - at first. He asked if I want therapy and I said I did. But that was it. I didn't get therapy.
Despite both of my parents knowing, they still allowed my brother to come home. He lives across the state.
In late April, I contacted the police about filing a report against him. It was a little tricky since it was technically out of the city limits and I had to deal with a different county, and it took about a week or two to actually make the report. They just had a police officer come to my house, and I filled out the report, then they faxed it over to the county. They county officer warned me earlier that since this was several months ago, there was no evidence. And if my brother says he didn't do it, case closed.
After I made my report, I waited for months for an update. I got nothing. I began to think that the police didn't even care about it. That they haven't even called my brother to ask if he did it. I've always blamed myself for it (and still do) but the blaming got worse. I convinced myself that they didn't call him because I was so much older than most people who get molested. I tell myself that if I would have just went to the hospital and have them do a DNA test of everything I wouldn't be in that position. I tell myself that I would have worn more clothes to bed, it wouldn't have happened. I tell myself that if I would have fought, instead of freezing in fear, this wouldn't have happened.
It wasn't until recently, at the beginning of July, when I asked my sister (who is 20) if the police ever called him. Surprisingly, she knew that they did. She told me that he called Mom after his conversation with the police, and he was freaked out. He lied. Case closed.
My friends nor I like the way my parents are reacting to this situation. They try to force me to talk and communicate with him when he's home. They don't tell me if he's coming sometimes till the day before, and sometimes it's a complete surprise.
But I'm trying to get help.
I decided it's time to talk about what happened last August, since it's going to be the one year anniversary in a couple weeks.
I want to make a note that this is kind of serious, and I know I need therapy for this (actually needed help with it a long time ago but I have parental issues) and am planning on seeing the campus therapist when school does start, which in only in a few weeks.
Okay, here we go.
My brother and I were pretty close. He helped shape me who I am today, with liking nerdy stuff like Legend of Zelda and Doctor Who. But after doing a bit of research, I learn that he was sexually abusive. Of course, I didn't even think about it until what happened.
He molested me.
He did it while our family was at vacation a couple hours from where we live. He was 30 at the time, and I was 17, a month shy of being 18. He did it to me several times, I want to say maybe 3 or 4 times, but I'm not sure.
I kept this a secret for a few months until about October or November, when I did tell a few friends. But no adults knew until late March, when I told someone at the High School I was attending. She then helped me tell the school officer. He told me that since I froze, instead of fighting back, then the only thing I could charge him with would probably be incest.
Since I was 18, I had the decision of telling my parents or not, otherwise they would have no choice but to tell. I set up a meeting with the officer and my dad, which was kind of frustrating because of cranky teachers and the officer being late back from his lunch break, but we did eventually get the chance to tell my dad. I had a friend come in with me for support, who was the first person I told about it. I wanted my dad to tell Mom because a.) it's hard for her to get off work, while my dad had the day off that day and b.) because Mom can be a bit... overreacting at times.
My dad was supportive - at first. He asked if I want therapy and I said I did. But that was it. I didn't get therapy.
Despite both of my parents knowing, they still allowed my brother to come home. He lives across the state.
In late April, I contacted the police about filing a report against him. It was a little tricky since it was technically out of the city limits and I had to deal with a different county, and it took about a week or two to actually make the report. They just had a police officer come to my house, and I filled out the report, then they faxed it over to the county. They county officer warned me earlier that since this was several months ago, there was no evidence. And if my brother says he didn't do it, case closed.
After I made my report, I waited for months for an update. I got nothing. I began to think that the police didn't even care about it. That they haven't even called my brother to ask if he did it. I've always blamed myself for it (and still do) but the blaming got worse. I convinced myself that they didn't call him because I was so much older than most people who get molested. I tell myself that if I would have just went to the hospital and have them do a DNA test of everything I wouldn't be in that position. I tell myself that I would have worn more clothes to bed, it wouldn't have happened. I tell myself that if I would have fought, instead of freezing in fear, this wouldn't have happened.
It wasn't until recently, at the beginning of July, when I asked my sister (who is 20) if the police ever called him. Surprisingly, she knew that they did. She told me that he called Mom after his conversation with the police, and he was freaked out. He lied. Case closed.
My friends nor I like the way my parents are reacting to this situation. They try to force me to talk and communicate with him when he's home. They don't tell me if he's coming sometimes till the day before, and sometimes it's a complete surprise.
But I'm trying to get help.
Friday, May 9, 2014
Just Random Thoughts
I doubt anyone actually reads my blog (mostly because I created this yesterday and hadn't told anyone about it...) but it's a quarter till 11, and I just got done babysitting. But I'm a little confused, because we (me and the people I babysit for) have an unspoken rule that I get paid for about $5 an hour. In some places that's low, but I live on the west side so it's pretty normal, haha. So I babysat for a little less than 4 hours, which mean I shouldv'e gotten $20, but instead I got $40. I don't check how much money they give me until I get home (because they give me a ride home and I feel rude for checking it in the car) so I didn't notice it till it was too late. So I'll probably mention about it Sunday during church, possibly text her tomorrow and ask about it. Gah, I don't know what to do.
I feel... weird... at the moment. I'm sitting at the desk, but I feel as if I'm standing up, and I'm high above the ground. I don't know why sometimes I feel this way. I just feel like I'm balancing on a giant platform with only one support column.
A lot of the time I will be sitting in class or whatever and then I get this weird feeling like, "What is life?" and I just feel all weird and everything. Then I start thinking about how a weird species humans are and I'm confused and I just question everything I do. I don't know if anyone else does this but maybe I'm a little crazy.
The other day I finished This Star Won't Go Out by Esther Earl. It's sort of an autobiography of a teenage girl who has cancer. She dies young (she just turned 16) but it has some journal entries and her parents wrote some stuff and people that love her wrote some stuff and John Green wrote an introduction. It was sad. I technically didn't finish it because I have about 80 pages left. I got to the point where she dies, and then I couldn't handle it anymore and I was crying and everything and so I just put it back on my shelf. Maybe someday I will read the rest.
I guess that's the reason I decided to start a blog. Someday, maybe when I'm dead and gone, people will find this blog and remember me. Idk, probably not.
I don't know what else to write, so I'm going to go.
I feel... weird... at the moment. I'm sitting at the desk, but I feel as if I'm standing up, and I'm high above the ground. I don't know why sometimes I feel this way. I just feel like I'm balancing on a giant platform with only one support column.
A lot of the time I will be sitting in class or whatever and then I get this weird feeling like, "What is life?" and I just feel all weird and everything. Then I start thinking about how a weird species humans are and I'm confused and I just question everything I do. I don't know if anyone else does this but maybe I'm a little crazy.
The other day I finished This Star Won't Go Out by Esther Earl. It's sort of an autobiography of a teenage girl who has cancer. She dies young (she just turned 16) but it has some journal entries and her parents wrote some stuff and people that love her wrote some stuff and John Green wrote an introduction. It was sad. I technically didn't finish it because I have about 80 pages left. I got to the point where she dies, and then I couldn't handle it anymore and I was crying and everything and so I just put it back on my shelf. Maybe someday I will read the rest.
I guess that's the reason I decided to start a blog. Someday, maybe when I'm dead and gone, people will find this blog and remember me. Idk, probably not.
I don't know what else to write, so I'm going to go.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
The First
I used to own a blog about 2 years ago. I don't mean like a normal Tumblr blog where I reblog pictures of cats and Harry Potter stuff. I mean the kind where I talked about my deepest thoughts. I shared the blog link to my Facebook, and didn't think anybody really cared or kept an eye on it. So eventually, when I was developing severe depression, I started sharing those thoughts on my blog. I would talk about how I was self-harming, how I was starving myself (note: I didn't develop anorexia or bulimia) and how I wanted to die. Some days I went really in detail.
One day, I was angry at one of my sisters for something, and wrote how I self-harmed myself for it. That's when my cousin told my parents. Only I'm not exactly sure about what happened. My mother told me my aunt called (my cousin's mom) and said my aunt found it, but my cousin also wrote me a Facebook message for me to stay strong. To this day I still never found out what really happened.
Anyways, my parents found out about my blog. Only they didn't really seem angry at me being depressed. They were basically angry at me for talking crap about my sister. My mom pulled me into my room and explained how I couldn't write on a blog because I can't write how I feel about my family (Or something like that, remember this was over two years ago) and she also mentioned that if I starved myself it will only screw up my metabolism and I will get a big tummy like the kids in Africa. (????)
So I stopped and kept everything in, and of course it only got worse. Eventually I took 50 IBProfin and tried to kill myself, wouldv'e taken more if they hadn't stopped me. I don't want to go into too much detail, but they took me to the hospital where I stayed there for two days until I could go in-patient hospital for mental illness nearby.
That was my Sophomore year of High School. Now I'm a Senior, and less than two weeks from graduation. I can't say life itself got any easier, but my mental health is a lot healthier. When I was severely depressed, I really didn't have a reason to be. I guess that's the reason why my parents thought I did it for attention. That does not mean that I was, it means I had a chemical imbalance, and because of it, it made me want to die.
This year has been really hard. I don't want to talk about what happened just yet, but maybe I will in the future. (If so, the title will probably be titled something mentioning August, in case you're curious) But unlike Sophomore year, I am more healthy. I'm trying to get help with the thing that happened, but it's frustrating because the police won't do much. I've been expecting a call back from them, but they're a week late. And I'm trying to get back into therapy, but I've always felt nervous driving and therefore don't have a driver's license. I have better coping skills now, which is a plus.
A couple weeks ago when I was talking to Tisha* about the whole August thing she was saying how if this happened a couple years ago, I probably wouldn't have told anyone and kept it all bottled up. And I have to say I agree with her.
I've been thinking about creating this blog for a long time, just to get some of my thoughts out once in a while.
Whelp, that's all I got for now.
I'll try to make a new post everyday, but no promises.
*Tisha is a chick that comes from the Juvenile Court System. I swear I've never been in trouble with them, but they come to our school and does Girls Group, which is how I know her since... Freshmen or Sophomore year? I'm not sure. She's the person I've asked for help with the whole August thing, and it's just a roller-coaster since.
One day, I was angry at one of my sisters for something, and wrote how I self-harmed myself for it. That's when my cousin told my parents. Only I'm not exactly sure about what happened. My mother told me my aunt called (my cousin's mom) and said my aunt found it, but my cousin also wrote me a Facebook message for me to stay strong. To this day I still never found out what really happened.
Anyways, my parents found out about my blog. Only they didn't really seem angry at me being depressed. They were basically angry at me for talking crap about my sister. My mom pulled me into my room and explained how I couldn't write on a blog because I can't write how I feel about my family (Or something like that, remember this was over two years ago) and she also mentioned that if I starved myself it will only screw up my metabolism and I will get a big tummy like the kids in Africa. (????)
So I stopped and kept everything in, and of course it only got worse. Eventually I took 50 IBProfin and tried to kill myself, wouldv'e taken more if they hadn't stopped me. I don't want to go into too much detail, but they took me to the hospital where I stayed there for two days until I could go in-patient hospital for mental illness nearby.
That was my Sophomore year of High School. Now I'm a Senior, and less than two weeks from graduation. I can't say life itself got any easier, but my mental health is a lot healthier. When I was severely depressed, I really didn't have a reason to be. I guess that's the reason why my parents thought I did it for attention. That does not mean that I was, it means I had a chemical imbalance, and because of it, it made me want to die.
This year has been really hard. I don't want to talk about what happened just yet, but maybe I will in the future. (If so, the title will probably be titled something mentioning August, in case you're curious) But unlike Sophomore year, I am more healthy. I'm trying to get help with the thing that happened, but it's frustrating because the police won't do much. I've been expecting a call back from them, but they're a week late. And I'm trying to get back into therapy, but I've always felt nervous driving and therefore don't have a driver's license. I have better coping skills now, which is a plus.
A couple weeks ago when I was talking to Tisha* about the whole August thing she was saying how if this happened a couple years ago, I probably wouldn't have told anyone and kept it all bottled up. And I have to say I agree with her.
I've been thinking about creating this blog for a long time, just to get some of my thoughts out once in a while.
Whelp, that's all I got for now.
I'll try to make a new post everyday, but no promises.
*Tisha is a chick that comes from the Juvenile Court System. I swear I've never been in trouble with them, but they come to our school and does Girls Group, which is how I know her since... Freshmen or Sophomore year? I'm not sure. She's the person I've asked for help with the whole August thing, and it's just a roller-coaster since.
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