Monday, October 30, 2006

One day I'll go away and never come back.

I am all kinds of upset right now. So, if you will allow me to, I will vent.

You ask me what I want you to do about it.
I want you to take responsibility for your actions and choices.
I want you to be the parent.
I want you to support me.
I want you to turn back time until I no longer know what its like to go a week, no, even one night without running water or electricity.
I want you to pay your bills on time, before things get shut off.
I want you to make this a place I can live, so I can come home.
Thats what I want you to do.

I'm tired. I'm tired of driving hours everyday. I'm tired of doing my homework here and going someplace else to use the bathroom, shower, and sleep. I'm tired of eating out becasue the options in our kitchen are ravioli and peanut butter. I'm tired of being upset, dissapointed, and mad. I'm tired of watching you both drink and smoke while we flush the toilet with a bucket of water from your brothers house. I'm tired of being torn because I can't live here and I hate being a guest in someone elses house. I'm tired of your apathy. "What do you want me to do about it?" What do I want you to do about it?!?!?

This happens over and over again. I think its getting better, then everything goes downhill again. Whats going on here? I can't wait to move out but I cant do that until I graduate. I don't want to move in with my aunts, I would foverer be a guest, it would never be home. If I quit school, I will have the same life my parents have lived and I refuse to continue this way. I just feel like I'm trying my best to make a life for myself and I have no support. I feel like I'm going to topple over any minute and there will be nothing there to stop me. My parents act like I'm over-reacting, like they have no idea why I'm so upset.

That must be it. I'm over-reacting. I'm a completely irrational fool.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Boredom gives birth to:

Well, here I am again with time before my next class. Too much time to actually go there and not enough to do anything with.

Hey, did you know that today is World Pasta Day? It totally is. The End.

I should do homework now.

Yeah.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

*Click* Click? *Click*

Nika's wedding was today. This morning, I packed all of my stuff out to my car, got inside and turned the key. *click* Click? *click* It's not supposed to click. Its supposed to "vroom". Today? Come on, today? So, I went inside and hauled my father out of bed. He said it must be the battery. He then tries to jump my car and you know what it does? *click click click* What is that? We don't know. I called Nika and she sent someone to fetch me. I left my dad my keys and my credit card and asked him to fix it, somehow, before I had to go to school tomorrow. He did.

Apparently, the battery died. No, not run out of battery happy, but went bad or something. New battery, car works. Thats all I need to know. And it could have been so much worse, like me alone at Oxford.

And now I'm ready for bed. I just wanted to share the car drama.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

The Hollow Kingdom makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

So then, (then being last night) Wait! How many times have I started off a post with "So. . ." ? Its like I'm always staring in the middle of a conversation.

Last night, I dreamed I was walking along a road and I was weighed down by something that made every single step was a challenge. And I couldn't even see where I was going because I kept looking back at where I had been.
But then, *end bad dream* the road turned into a Forrest, the day into night, it started raining an icy rain and I was kidnapped by goblins. . . handsome goblins.

That's all I had to say. Unless you wanted to hear about how sleepy I am or how much homework I have. No, I didn't think so.

Love you!

Monday, October 16, 2006

I keep thinking about fun things we did before September.

I spent the whole day in bed. Okay, I did leave it for a while, but mostly. . . I guess that an evening of allergy-attack, and then crying caused my entire head to explode in confusion. This morning, my eyes were swollen, my ears and throat hurt, I had two blisters on my mouth, and I had a headache. Upon discovering all this, I decided to roll over and go back to sleep. That wasn't confusing at all.

But I'm okay now, well, minus the fever blisters.

I'm feeling lonely. I'm so busy with school and work and tutoring. I come home from school exhausted. I don't want to do anything or go anywhere when I'm not at school or work, but I have to go to the library and I have to do my homework and I have to make lesson plans. And more recently, I have to study for midterms, I have to work on group projects, I have to plan for field experience, I have to figure out my schedule. So, when I do have time to do nothing (and I'm not sick), I don't want to go out with friends. I don't have any money, I only work 12 hours a week. What could I do that doesn't cost money? Where could I drive that doesn't waste too much gas? And who would want to spend time with me when I don't call anyone, I don't talk to anyone? I'm feeling lonely.

I'm tired of worrying about things. I worry about everything, like worrying ever made anything better. Worrying is exhausting. I wish I could decide to stop. I know everything always works out in the end, but I can't help but worry that its not going to work this time. . .

Last night I had a dream that I was trying to get to this cabin on a hill. I knew that once I got to that cabin, I could relax. So, I started climbing this hill. It kept getting steeper and steeper and I could not longer walk because every step landed in the same place as I slid backward, so I crawled and eventually there were handholds because it was so steep and the concrete was so slick and then it was a wall and I couldn't climb anymore. It was a water-slide and I was falling, tumbling, sliding back down to the bottom again. And I was thinking, I can't do that again. I can't do that again. I'm tired. I can't do that again.

And I woke up all gross and fever-blistery.

Good morning.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Wondering

I wonder why the trees don't move
or speak aloud like me and you
or why the lose their leaves each fall
or why they grow those leaves at all?
I wonder why the bark is rough
and just how tall is tall enough
and do the trees have secret dreams
of paper mills and ceiling beams?
And what about those twisting roots,
are they just tree-like hiking boots?
I wonder if trees are girls or boys
or if they prefer quiet to noise?
I wonder so very many things
like what makes trees have all those rings?
How long can an old tree grow?
So many things I want to know.
Oh, if trees could speak like me and you
perhaps they would have some questions too.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Writing is my happy.

I decided that the last post and this one should be separate, even though its exaclty the same time. I just have happy thoughts now.

Katelyn (my friend, not the toddler) and I are writing a childrens book together called, I HATE Lettuce. You will never guess what its about. Maybe it will be so good that it will be published and then we will be famous authors touring the country doing book signings. Or maybe it will be "cute" and we will lose interest and never send it to a publisher anyway. Hmm. I love to write, it would be wonderful to make a career of it, or at least a profitable diversion. I do not think I could write a novel, but childrens literature I could definately do. I have learned so much this semester in Lit block, I should put it to good use.

Then, I wrote a cute poem about trees and I'll have to share it with you when I'm at home and have access to it. As it is, I am at school in the something center on a Mac. Okay, I know the Mac part is not important but I am proud of my self for using one effectively.

Class starts in twenty minutes.

Oh! You should join loowa.com and be my friend.

One day, there will be a starbucks in this library and that will be a happy day indeed.

Class starts in nineteen minutes.

We get our test grades and essays back in the next class. I want to know how I did. Did I understand what she was looking for? Did I miss the mark completely?

Professor Drewes is so motherly and excited and caring I just want to hug her. Maybe I will.

In seventeen minutes.

I believe this might be the most constructive thing I've accomplished in my break today. Does expressing oneself count as being productive?

Sixteen minutes.

I'm sure if I didn't express myself, all these extra words, I wouldn't be a very fun person to be around. Once I get all the sad down on paper, there is more room for the happy.

Fifteen.

And it will take me that long to get back.

Thanks for listening.

Sarah Jo
(fourteen)

Complaining Follows:

I would like to take this opportunity to complain profusely about every single little thing until either: A.) I feel better, B.) I run out of things to say, C.) My fingers start hurting, or D.) I run out of time.

So, last night was the catalyst for this rant. I came home to find a package with someone Else's name and our address on it. When I mentioned this to my dad, he informed me that it was indeed our package; it contained the modem for the new Internet service. The reason the name on it was different was because my dad MADE UP a name and social security number for the phone bill. I get extremely upset for obvious reasons and he said he had a bill in his name, did I want to have Internet or not? Oh, so somehow that's a good reason to engage in illegal activities.

Next, my brother left a box of items on the front porch unattended and they were stolen. My mother says it was probably one of her friends, because, you know, they are just that kind of people. Chris is angry because he feels he should be able to leave valuable things out in the open on his own front porch, its not like we have ever been robbed before. Oh, but wait, we have been robbed before. Several times. (By my moms "friends"?) One can only blame other people for so much.

Then, my brother, who is currently under suspension and does not have legal license plates or car insurance, wanted to drive to his friends house so that he would have a ride home in the morning. My mother agreed with him, my father did not. Commence argument.

I really don't know where to begin. One day, yes, one day not too far away, I will live in my own house with my own rules and no illegal activity. One day, I won't have to worry about random services being shut off for non-payment. One day, I won't have to worry about what questionable people will be entering my home. One day, I won't have to wonder which one of the people I live with are addicted to what substance. Once day, I won't have to worry about who may or may not be arrested or have court appearances. But until that day. . .

I know that I am not responsible for, nor do I have any control over any of these things. I shouldn't worry about them. I shouldn't get upset. But I cannot help but want to live in a safe, stable, and secure environment where my parents are positive role models. I know, how ridiculous. One can dream.

Friday, October 06, 2006

I am a strange creature.

I always imagine that people only like me because they don't know me very well. They must only see the good parts about me. If they really knew how awful I really am, they wouldn't really want to be my friends. I know, everyone has their faults, and I've been afraid to come to terms with mine. I thought, maybe if I ignored them, they would go away or something. So, I had these random fragments of things I hate about me, and I decided to list them, because, if I can look at them, maybe they would not seem so daunting. And I did. And then after that, I decided to list the things I like about me too, because, well, I do like me too. And I won't pretend those flaws aren't there, lurking beneath the surface like some dark secret, but rather, acknowledge them and try to be better. So, here goes:

  • I am lazy.
  • I am selfish.
  • I lie (by not saying anything at all.)
  • I am VERY grumpy in the morning.
  • I am particular.
  • I am demanding.
  • I am fat, unhealthy, and unattractive.
  • I am joyful.
  • I smile at strangers.
  • I am kind.
  • I am resilient and strong.
  • I am devout and faithful and earnest in seeking a relationship with God.
  • I accentuate the positive.
  • I am agreeable.
  • I am intelligent.
  • I am successful.
  • I have a beautiful smile and voice and eyes.
  • I am good with children.
  • I am a writer.
  • I am a poet.
  • I am inspired and inspiring.
  • I am affectionate.
  • I am enthusiastic.
  • I am passionate.
  • I am slow to anger.
  • I am determined to grow.

Looking at this list comforts me. I will probably always be grumpy in the morning. I will probably always be particular. I will have to consciously work at improving the other things. And then, after that, I will find something else. . . But even if I am always all those bad things I listed there, I will still always be all the good things I listed there as well.

In my head, there is always this voice that says that only people who really know me, good and bad, are my family and that they have to love me. But really, if anyone else got close enough, they wouldn't love me, they wouldn't have to. All those little fragments of flaws slicing at me are really pieces of a bigger, more frightening statement: I am unlovable. I can even sift through and find the reason this statement was born, look at it in all its terrible wonder, and dismiss it as absurd and untrue. Unfortunately, its not as easy as all that, for doubts have a way of sneaking back in when we think we have banished them.

I know who I am. I know Who made me. I know how awful and wonderful I can be.

But I don't know where to go from here.

the circle of life?

I have been wondering if everyone else wrestles with the differences between who they are and who they should be. This is certainly a struggle for me.
Humph.
The words aren't coming out own their own like they usually do. I'm doing this for my own benefit. I feel better when I've verbalized things.

Okay, here goes: As I get closer to God, He changes me, and that makes perfect sense because He is perfect and I am not and He knows what I can and should be and He nudges me in that direction. So, rationally, all makes sense. But, I do not usually react rationally. This big, angry part of me is screaming inside that He said He loves me completely, why do I have to change? I'm afraid that I'll lose who I am in becoming what He wants me to be. And I'm happy. I don't want to be better, that takes work, and I'm tired and lazy and scared. I just want to be me and be loved for who that is and it wears me down to continually feel the need to work on my character, to try to be more compassionate, more generous, more loving, more forgiving, more diligent, more. . . and every time, every single time, I give up completely and walk away and ignore God until I can't anymore. Because no matter what I do I spend my days thinking about how I haven't talked to Him today, even though He is right next to me, nay, inside of me. I feel guilty because I didn't go to church, because I didn't want to go to church. I feel angry because I shouldn't have to feel guilty about what I choose to do. I feel like a liar because I'm walking around pretending to myself that I don't need God, pretending I feel okay inside, and pretending to everyone else that I'm the same today as I was when my heart was on fire for God. I don't know how to be Sarah without Him.

And even now, being in this place, I know that I have been here before, and that it will pass. But I still feel like I'm lost forever and I don't know how to get back. And I don't know how I can be so sure some days and so doubtful other days. And I don't know if anyone else feels this way. I always feel that everyone else must know something I don't know, and that's why I stumble along.

I just wish I could see His face and ask Him all my questions and really feel His arms around me. But for today, I am sticking to my secret, silent protest.
(every relationship has its quarrels, right?)