Try This On, Straightjacket Feeling, So Maybe I Won't Be Alone

Ahhh, sighs can mean so many things. Sometimes they are in relief, frustration, sadness, tiredness, anger, love, anticipation. Right now I keep on sighing because I am just so damn tired. And sad. I feel utterly lost, suddenly thrown into swirling waters that won't let me get to shore. But there's a problem with this idea, because, in all honesty, I threw myself in, so I shouldn't really complain or blame. Yes, so it was me, but what if I made a mistake? People make mistakes all the time. Mine just happens to be a really bad mistake, one that is very easy to make, and not so easy to get out of. It grips you for years. I don't really know what my point is, or if I have one, or what I'm trying to say. I'm not even sure I'm all that coherent, but on I ramble nonetheless. I'm not trying to prove a point, or make a statement, or seek attention, or see how far one can push the envelope on physical limits. I'm just stuck. Stuck and tired but I keep on running anyway. It makes no sense, and I'm a logical person. My next test of how incompetent some of the white coats are is on Thursday. What fun. Everytime I go I feel like a stuck pig; I've got bruises where they've poked and prodded. I guess we'll go at it again. I'm tired of this game.

I Know They're My Parents, But...

Spending the majority of your weekend in a waiting room in the hospital that smells like old people and bad soup is not my first choice when it comes to having fun. Oh no. Being poked and prodded and asked questions all because your parents think you should be there because they think you're going to keel over at any minute - Even though you've calmly stated that you're absolutely peachy-friggin'-keen about a bazillion times - is great. What fun!!! Now I'm home because that was the biggest waste of time ever - there's 2 days of my life I'll never get back. Gosh. The 'rents were so hopeful that what followed being holed up in the waiting room would be my salvation, my magic bullet, my miracle pill. That wish almost came true for them, but they were subsequently bereft and found no such miracle cure. They were angry. I was a little sad, but mostly indifferent as we headed home. I was just so tired. They won't even let me walk anywhere anymore. Hence I'm not at school as they keep vigil over me, watching to see that my heart doesn't give out or something stupid like that (they have strange ideas, I swear) - as I tell them time and time again that they should just leave me alone. To be completely honest, I have no idea what to do, so I tell them to go away. I've said this before and I'm saying it again now: I hate ambivalence. I hate it now more than ever. The vast majority of me is indifferent, the other little sliver is a little confused. Personally I think that their fears are vastly overblown, but that's just one girl's opinion. They say, "You're going to die," and I say, "I'm fine. Really. I swear to God." How come parents think they're always right? They're not correct in this instance. I just want to sleep.

I hate that this sounds so completely overdramatic. I hate the theatrics, because really, I'm more of an introvert. I guess the theatre is where I sit for now, watching this strange little production play out in mirrors and shouts and silence until something pops up and says Surprise!

It's CRAPTASTIC!

I hate when moms cry. Especially when you're mom is the one crying. Makes you feel like crap.
The crap is still quite fresh and it's freaking craptastic. I hate when moms cry as they argue with you. I hate arguing. She sat at the foot of my bad, and I turned away, my back to her as I stared at the wall. I felt so heartless and cold - who does that? Who doesn't give a damn when they're mom is crying and begging? I thought, "I'm a terrible person," after she left. She asked questions in her high-pitched, trying-not-to-cry voice, and I answered in short spurts, in sarcasm, in indifference, in defence. I thought, "This is not me," and yet I didn't even care. I didn't even apologize. Apologies will come when this is all over. Apologies for her anger and for my stupidity and blind walk into a place in the mind she wishes I wouldn't go. She just doesn't understand. And this is far from over. She wishes it was over, tried so hard for it to be over, but only I can call it off and that scares her something terrible. She can't do anything to save the situation, to reverse time, to mend things, things she can't fix, and for that I am sorry. I'm not sure when this will be done - don't really care at the moment - but I'm sure it'll end in some sort of big bang or another...

I AM IN DEEP SHITTTT.

OH boy. I am in deep shit. Apologizing for my language seems useless. I am in deep shit and I have no idea how I am gonna talk my way out of this one. This may seem terribly dramatic, but I'm not trying to sound stupid. Anyone have any idea how I can get out of here in one piece? I can't do what my parents want me to do. I just can't. I CAN'T. But now I'm stuck and they're pinning me in a corner and I'm screwed and I don't know where this is going. Actually, I know where THEY want this to go, but I don't want to go there. It's stupid. It's completely UNNECESSARY and totally traumatic. I had fooled myself into thinking I'd flown under the radar but was sadly, horribly mistaken - not that I'd done anything bad (just to be clear). The next couple of days should be interesting and should make me want to punch a baby. And for her information, I'm not packing to go anywhere. I'm staying here because everything's ok and I'm fine and everything's fine and I'm staying home and working and babysitting and doing homework and going out because it's all fine. I'm not freakin' packing because I'm not gonna do what they want. And technically, they can't really do anything anyway. They can't physically pick me up and shove me in the car. That's stupid.

Sorry if this sounds completely crazy and such, I just needed to freak out somewhere.

152 hours and counting

My hands are freezing - it's hard to grasp my pencil or even type this out. My nails are blue - what the heck!? I feel the need to blog, about what I'm not quite sure. I hate school right now. I hate SOCIAL. I get so ansty sitting in class all day. All I wanna do is jump up and run out of the room and scream and never come back because I hate it.

I need a friggin' break!

Plus, I can't seem to climb out of this hole. But it's confusing because part of me is content to sit there, in the dirt. At the bottom that seems to get deeper by the day. I'm not trying to sound depressing or anything, I'm just rambling. But seriously... argh.

I'm hoping that I can grab a bus ticket in November when we have a break and I'll go out to see Rachel and Nick and Luke. Only a couple more weeks is all I have to stand. Only 3 more weeks. I can doooo iitt!

Woot woot on Wednesday I'm going to the city to have coffee with one of the coolest girls I know (besides Jess, of course). I'm so freaking excited it's not even funny. I feel a little better already. Mmmmm Starbucks and a person not from Dalmeny.

It's just too little too late, a little too wrong, and I can't wait...

I can't take it anymore!!! All this pressure and plop! Down down down I fall through the rabbit hole. I hate Social - thank you Mr. Millette and Thomas - both of you are asses. (and yes I know I have a dirty mouth but you'd be pissed too!) And now we have soooo much social homework it's sickening. I hate this.

On top of all that wonderful homework, most of what I'm freaking out about has nothing to do with school. I hate the word cancer - it' s so ominous, foreboding. I hate it even more when you have to wait to find out if someone in your family has it. It makes being stressed about social look stupid. I can't concentrate to save my life - how can someone NOT freak when they're scared they might lose somebody? Argh. On top of that, there are so many other things I can't mention. How about someone knocks me out with a hammer so I can sleep and not think for a little while? That would be lovely.

The only good thing about today is that it's Friday and mom isn't on my back about things that shall remain nameless.

Here's to the weekend, sleep, and benign spots on x-rays.