Why the fuck can't I just fucking kill myself and get this fucking shit over with? Why the fuck can't I just let the fuck go of these fucking assholes who make my life so fucking miserable and just fucking let myself fucking DIE? That's all I fucking want, I just want to die but I can't fucking kill myself because it would fucking hurt people. I don't WANT to care about this, I don't WANT to give a shit about their feelings, I want to fucking die and end this fucking piece of shit called my life.
I went to New York with my father again last weekend and stayed with his friends in Port Jeff, where we went on a boat to Fire Island. It was a beautiful place that inspired recollections of childhood vacations and distant scenes of Dutch beaches. I encountered a deer who came very close to me in exchange for a few Cheetos. They were probably very bad for the deer, but at least I got to meet it. It started getting cloudy, so we took the boat back in the rain and it felt like it nearly flipped at one point. I loved every part of it.
Today was an interesting day for me, good and a bit weird.
School's been back for a week now and I ran into Nick, one of my friends that I haven't seen since the last day of school a few months ago. He's one of the two friends that didn't respond back to me about the text mom send outing me and Colin.
Nick and I don't have any classes together and have different lunch times so we never really cross paths, and unfortunately it's the same with Colin too. At least we get to hang out before school and at Cross Country practice.
(First of all, this not having the journals on the sidebar is annoying me more and more. Now I have to go to a whole other page to see what the new journals, the life of the party, are.)
Well another day, another wasted 24 hours spent anguishing over where my life is going.
You probably have all seen the original video of 19-year-old Daniel Pierce being rejected and ejected from his home by his family.
Very troubling! Here is his story in a live interview with local TV:
It's already been a year since the time of long lasting genuine happyness and prosperity I enjoyed. I still hold onto my relationships and family even through the storms, we're all stronger for that in the end even if we don't see it at first. Things are continuing to change, I don't know how many times I mention change but it's something I need to live with.
Linden, I'm proud of YOU!
I've been busy since I last wrote on here, but now I finally have time to do a update that isn't rushed.
I think anyone who has been reading my journals knows my relationship with my mom is over, but part of me is hanging to to hope that there's something wrong with her that's causing her irrational behavior. I've talked to everyone in my family about this, and they all are shocked that I would even feel this way. Dad told me that's he's proud of me...and he's also told me that he doesn't want me to get hurt.
Empty halls and empty heads,
empty rooms with empty beds;
all those people, all nowhere,
an ambulance once took me there.
They told me they could make me feel
better, help me know what’s real-
then took me to an empty room
with iron door and sense of doom.
they told me that I had to strip
and searched me with cold, harsh, gloved grip
I spread my legs just like they said,
despite my shame and hate and dread.
They shoved me in a crowded space
with nary a familiar face;
Fear and trembling was the rule,
but never could I lose my cool
for fear of being placed again
I wrote before that I'm now home schooled, and I'm now going to write about the realities of it, both good and bad.
I'm enrolled as a student at my hometown middle school and I take the same classes as my friends, using the same books. The biggest difference is the amount of time I spend, which is around 4-5 hours a day. I also have the option of moving at a faster or slower pace, but I'm actually ahead of my peers now and school just started for them. There's a minimum number of days I have to be in school (180) but I go beyond that.
I have this nice journal with beautiful, naturally made paper and I have nothing to write in it because I'm not sad now. I kind of wish I had something to write in there about, but I'm not used to expressing happiness, so it's difficult thinking of words.
I went to the Renaissance fair yesterday, and saw some things. I also got a handmade journal with actual paper, instead of that gross machine-made acidic stuff, so I've started writing my poems in there rather than the other old book I was using. I'll possibly go back to that one after this new one's filled up, but that may be a while. I'd post some poems here, but there are a lot of them, and they borrow a lot of phrases from each other, so it's sort of like I'm just revising, compiling, and expanding on them, and I don't know what I'll end up with.
Last time I wrote about how I move with my Mom every 13 weeks as she starts a new assignment as a travel nurse, and now I want to go into some of the realities of this kind of lifestyle. Believe it or not, it's not as bad as it may seem.
I was just at province town for four days. The day before that I was talking to my mom about the four of us going (mom, dad, sister, me) and she told me she she had bad news, that my sister couldn't come. She's been depressed for two years so she's really behind in school so (as a punishment?) she had to stay home and do school work. Me; I want to be in school it distracts me from being depressed. But there was good news, my best friend (i'll just say Ari for privacy) was coming. The one who i can't figure out if I should tell her I'm lesbian or not.