I am in desperate need of a long rant.
Have I mentioned that I hate people? Yes, I find them fascinating, but why do they all have to be pricks? Everything is about them. Everyone has a selfish motivation behind everything they do.
I dreamed a half conscious dream last night as I was still falling asleep that I told off Kyle O'Day from the rugby team...finally. I just yelled and yelled and yelled right in his face about how everyone here pretends to be so good and holy and how the sports program claims to be superior because faith bonds the teams and respect and dignity is fostered in all the players and how it's all such bull shit. I asked him how people could bring themselves to play on a team "based" on those standard when all they want to do is exclude people, make fun of people, single people out, and do anything BUT encourage and applaud good efforts. I yelled about how people like him disgusted me and how it was wrong how he, and everyone else at this school, take the people that are a little different (and often at least one cut above them) like John (and me) and think it's FUNNY or even okay to single them out and treat them like SHIT - just because they're not them.
The whole time I was telling myself in my head to stay on topic or they were going to laugh at me for being an agnsty teenager who was pissed about things irrelevant to what I was actually "bitching" about.
I gathered quite a good crowed in my dream, everyone stopped playing so they could hear what was going on. I saw them all start giving John looks like they wanted him to stop me, but he just stood there and shrugged.
So now, my question today, as seen on my facebook is, "why do people you've just met stop talking to you after a few months? it's like, "what, I couldn't get to know you and be your friend FAST ENOUGH for you? So now you're just giving up?" wtf people. Maybe if YOU tried a little harder people would respond more...quickly?"
I thought of this as I was surfing around my home page and I saw someone's name whom I met here last semester. I thought he was a cool guy. He was friendly and we talked a lot before and after classes. Now this semester?
Nothing.
He doesn't even acknowledge me when I wave at him. And it's like this with basically everyone I've met here so far.
What the HELL did I do? Why does EVERYONE look at me like I have three heads? And if that's not bad enough, I have to watch people treat John the same way. Which in a way is worse. Because the way I see it is, I can take shit from people. It hurts, but I can deal. But I can't watch other people treat the people I care about in the same way. I can't stand up for myself, but I'd as soon shoot someone for a friend as I would let it go for myself.
When I am with John in the caf and I see a table of rugby players distinctly turn away when he gets near, or actually ignore him when he tries to say hi, I can't make up my mind if I just want to drop my food and start sobbing or if I want to go over there and punch them all in the head more.
Again, I ask: WHAT DID WE DO?
Before falling asleep last night I was thinking about how people used to say I was "such a nice girl." I've changed so much...really I have. So much so that I wonder why exactly they used to call me that? Was it because I was polite? Because I didn't cuss? Because I was quiet and always did what I was told?
That's not me anymore. Since I've been here, I've changed. I've become stronger. Maybe not necessarily in a good way though. More in the way of I'm so sick and tired of SHIT. Everything that comes at me is bull shit. Barely anything goes right for me anymore...and that 100 I get on a paper just isn't enough to outweigh the way people treat me - or don't treat me - here. The crap I put up with. The internal struggle I'm desperately trying not to face about everything that's going on at home; my relationship with my family, etc.
On the outside I act "stronger." I find myself doing things I wouldn't usually do. I'm braver. I vandalize, I risk drinking underage, I swear every other word, I blare my disgusting rap, I talk shit about people, I don't always go to church, I don't pray...And I have perfectly good reasons for all of them. Especially the things pertaining to religion. (Why would I buy into that bullshit? If it makes people the way my mom is, or the so called "Christians" here, why would I intentionally put myself through that? I want to be a good person....really I do. But my view of "good" is so warped and distorted right now, I have so much to sort out...and No. Praying is not going to help me figure my shit out. I tried. It only makes it worse.)
But at the same time, I feel more vulnerable. When someone IS nice to me, I feel like there has to be an ulterior motive to their actions. Sometimes I get mad at everyone around me for not giving me a chance, but the truth is, I'm scared to give myself the chance to get to know people. I like to pretend I'm all tough, but really, I am pathetic. I am that girl everyone looks at and says "wow, what a sheltered freak. she has no social skills."
But is it my fault?
I didn't chose this.
I tried taking drugs.
I considered going to counseling (...I still am). But how do I know I can trust the counselor?
When it comes down to it, my REAL motto in life is "Don't trust anyone but yourself, and even then, be careful."
Oh, what am I do do?
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Is it possible for me to even start a post without "Life" being at least in the first sentence if not the first word? I'm tired of making generalizations about how "horrible" life is. Everything is such a drag and I hate it. I just want to be happy. How about some good news for once? Or something to look forward to?
You know what's really hard? Being brave. Having to be brave, forcing yourself not to cry in front of teachers when there's this huge lump in your throat. It's like "Either I don't talk and don't cry, or I start sobbing the second I open my mouth."
That lump fricking hurts too.
I guess I just need a good long rant...I'm not going to do it here though, because crying in a computer lab is totally....well, you know.
Someone should call me....
You know what's really hard? Being brave. Having to be brave, forcing yourself not to cry in front of teachers when there's this huge lump in your throat. It's like "Either I don't talk and don't cry, or I start sobbing the second I open my mouth."
That lump fricking hurts too.
I guess I just need a good long rant...I'm not going to do it here though, because crying in a computer lab is totally....well, you know.
Someone should call me....
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Long time, no post.
But I think it's time for me to once again, attempt to organize my thoughts.
As an update, break was okay. Parts of it were actually good, surprisingly. The actual Christmas holiday wasn't that great, mom was drunk again, as usual and we didn't see much of her or dad amidst the bobbing about between relatives. I went to three masses. It was weird. But I went because of Brian and Rachael.
I guess a lot of stuff happened over break. I finally kindled an actual friendship with Brian. I remember writing close to a year ago about how he was just one more roll model that had let me down. I don't know what happened; I suppose I changed. We both did. He is still very opinionated, but now that I've seen more of the world, I'm not so disappointed in him. Sure, I may not agree with him on everything, but how often do you find someone who you can talk to for 6 hours straight with out ever getting up off the couch?
That's rare.
Hanging out with him over break was strange, but he ended up being a life-saver. Not just because he drove me to the bus station when my mom was too drunk to walk, but talking to him helped me sort a lot of things out. It made me realize that I can't give a damn about what people here think about me. If they want to think I'm a badass, let them. If they want to think I'm just bad, I don't care. I am who I am. I don't do thinks without reason. If they think what I'm doing is wrong, screw them. I don't. If I think something is wrong, I don't do it. Plain and simple.
"...when it comes down to it, I let them think what they want. If they care enough to bother with what I do, then I'm already better than them anyways."
I can't let these people get to me. Of course, that's always easier said than done. A lot of things about this school really irritate me, but I've learned to laugh at them.
I decided that I don't have to ride the fence if I don't want to. No one, no situation, nothing can make me choose a side and nothing can make me stay in the middle. I'm making my own side: I am going to force this two sided fence into a triangle. And who's to stop me?
I don't have to drink a lot and do weed just because I don't want to go to mass or join a household. And I don't have to go on mission trips and go to Praise and Worship just because I don't want to smoke and have sex. I think I'm slowly starting to find my core again: Those few friends that are looking to have a good time but not do anything ridiculously stupid. [Note I said "ridiculously." Sneaking beer into a hotel room full of minors probably only just barely falls short of ridiculously stupid. :P]
But we didn't get mad drunk...we just hung out and watched Comedy Central and Family Guy and eventually fell asleep.
But anyway, back on topic. I'm making my own side now. I'm not so desperate to feel accepted as I was last semester. Of course my confidence level in the classroom is a totally different story. Don't even get me started on Spanish. I actually started crying in class today....
Moving on....
I've also realized that I attract the oddest mish-mash of people as my friends. I love how we're all so different though. [And I mean that in both senses of the word. ;D] I feel like my social group consists of all the people that don't really fit in anywhere else. Of course, this is not to say that we're all losers who can't make other friends, but what I mean is there is something different about us. Something that doesn't prevent us from blending in, but definitely sets us apart. It's 2:00 in the morning and I'm beginning to wonder if I am making any sense.
Let me say one more thing just to be safe. lol
Every day I walk into the caf, or I'm wandering about in various buildings and I see many different groups of people. There are the "Pre-The's", the household groups, the jocks, the preps, the "virginity rocks" girls, the "why the fuck are you at a Catholic college?" people, etc. Then there is this one group of people that is so...odd. They're like the left-overs. Some of them are really pretty, some of them are really ugly, some are smart, some are stupid. I don't really see HOW they fit together other than the fact that there is something...weird about all of them (and I think it's more than just they're clothes); they definitely stand out. My group isn't like that. We are the invisibles. We're the ones that no one notices. We're the kids who constantly get asked "do you go here?" and "Hey are you...? Oh, no, sorry. You just look like someone else." lol
But you know what? We're awesome. And to everyone who thinks we're not I have one thing to say to you:
"Screw you guys, I'm goin' home."
Night all.
Friday, November 20, 2009
I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed right now. I usually cry when I'm overwhelmed but I'm attempting to suppress it, as I usually do.
Tod...Yesterday was my birthday. I went to bed much past midnight and as I walked down the dorm hall from the bathroom to my own room I couldn't help but notice decorated doors. One was plastered in colorful signs with a big "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banner hanging over the door way. Another was completely covered in Post-Its bearing the same message. I had watched them get decorated. I watched as girls from all over the dorm snuck up and one-by-one left their mark on the doorway. I didn't participated because I didn't know any of the girl's who's birthday it was. But secretly I was jealous.
At 1:00 in the morning I walked down the empty hall to my room. I tried to ignore the fact that my door was completely unadorned. I noticed that someone had taken the newspaper article I had clipped and posted on my cork board and put it under my room-mate's household (catholic sorority) status sign as if it were more important. I wondered if she had done it, or if a gust of wind caused by a hurried student late for class had blown it that way.
As I laid in bed I wanted to cry. I didn't want to be 18. 17 was scary enough. I didn't want the responsibility of being that old but it was utterly unavoidable. What of the freedom? I asked myself. What is the point of having freedom when it is only to be restricted even more when I go home for break? I tried to block out these thoughts with thoughts of what the day would bring. Nate would be coming in from New York. That thought allowed me to fall asleep.
The next morning I was in for a surprise. Roughly 6 pieces of paper had been hung on my door wishing me a happy birthday from all the RA's in my dorm. I tried to smile when I saw it, but it was hard. The thought was sweet, but they weren't my friends. They were the RA's. The stupid, annoying RA's that yell at John and I and constantly fine people for no good reason. They make up the rules as they go. They're the boss and we, the lowly freshmen, are their servants. I tried not to compare my door to those of the girl's down the hall. I tried to force back the hopeful thought attempting to break through my conscious control and tell me maybe once the other girls saw it was my birthday, they too would leave me notes. My rational, logical side argued differently. Once again I filled my mind with thoughts of Nate's visit.
I was so excited I could hardly sit still through my morning classes. I flew about cleaning my room in record time in preparation. I showered, did my hair and even got a little homework done.
It was so good to see him again. As soon as I saw his face that rush of security flowed over me. I recognized the familiar feeling of regularity and consistency from my days at camp. I couldn't believe he'd come to see me. Something like how he said "Hey Lady. Happy Birthday!" made me so happy. He even wished me a happy birthday twice. John and him and myself all went out to get Greek food for dinner after a grand tour of the school. After showing him around and telling him a bit about the school, I thought his mind was going to explode. He's so funny when small eyes try to bug out of his little head. The way he worded things made me laugh outwardly, but inwardly they reminded me just how bad this school is. He bugged me all night about the "chastity light" concept. He came up with some pretty funny jokes about it but it was still embarrassing. I never feel like I can explain properly to people why I'm here. They all look at me like I'm crazy for not leaving. But they don't understand why I don't, and I don't know how to explain it. I can't find a good way to say I'm doing this for John. Because I love him and I swore to myself (first) and him (second) that I would never, ever, abandon him again.
After Nate left I watched a movie with John while eating chocolate truffles and started doing my hair for formal tomorrow. After John left I got ready for bed. The room was quite. Laura was already in her bed watching a movie on her laptop. I finally let myself think. Once I did so, a rush of emotions came over me. I was so overwhelming I just wanted to break down and cry. But I hate crying in my room. It's not private here. So instead I decided to write.
I thought about how Mike had forgotten my birthday. How I hadn't gotten a single card in the mail. I thought about how very few friends I have here. Then, how very few friends I have anywhere. I thought about how those same six, lonely signs still hung on my door. I wondered how many times the girls I do know walked by them, saw them, and still never wished me a happy birthday. I tried to convince myself that birthdays weren't that big of a deal and that I hadn't ever really wanted to have this birthday in the first place. Then I realized something. My whole life has been spent searching for the attention I feel I never got as a child. Ever since I started high school I had been at a constant battle with myself. I strove for the thing I hated the most; attention. I hated it when people put me on the spot. I hated being in the spotlight. The worst was in class. I always wanted to be part of group conversations, but never had the guts to speak up because I didn't want people to look at me, to analyze what I had said. But what I realized tonight was that I don't want just attention. This whole time I have merely been searching for the love and attention I never got from my dad and I somehow, somewhere along the line, managed to convince myself that getting attention from everyone else would fill that hole if I got enough of it. I would beat myself up when I didn't get enough to fill that hole. I'd tell myself it was my fault. "If I wasn't so awkward...If only I was more outgoing....If I could just find a way to be confident..." But having Nate here helped me realize that I never will have a lot of friends, but the ones who I do have would do anything for me. Even drive out of their way to come see me on my birthday. Why? Because they love me. And having a few people love me is so much more fulfilling than having a hundred people pay attention to me. Honestly? I would rather sit around and eat gyros and drink eggnog in silence with people who love me than have a whole room full of people sing happy birthday and shower me with gifts.
I'm going to do what Mrs. D yelled at us this morning for doing and end this post abruptly.
Goodnight world.
PS: Thanks everyone who though leaving me a note on my facebook gave you free-pass not to say anything to my face today. You guys are the best ever.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
So I was just pondering the fact that in exactly 30 minutes I will no longer be a minor. This is something I have been putting off thinking about all day. Why? This should be exciting should it not? But I over think things. Instead of being exciting about my new "legal freedom" and the privileges that come along with that, I'm scared. Scared of the new responsibilities, the accountability. Being a minor is so....safe. So easy. It's like I'm on the brink of a cliff and a truck is coming full speed at me and there's no way to stop what's going to happen.
How can you stop time?
PS:
Birthday suck. I tried to get myself excited because this is my first birthday I'll be able to spend with John. But really, I can't make up my mind if I'd rather have people give me lots of attention or just ignore me completely. Every year, I have myself just about convinced that I wouldn't mind the attention (even though I hate being in the spotlight if it requires saying something) I have to face the fact that no one really knows Beth Palmer well enough to know...or care...when her birthday is. Actually, most people could care less that I was born.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Really random ramblings of a rather unstable mind
So I just need to get some stuff out.
First of all...I don't even know where to start. I'm not even going to try to go in order.
One of my best friends had sex with his girlfriend. People keep telling me it's not a big deal and it shouldn't affect our friendship at all but for some reason, I'm having a really hard time getting over it. He was the last of my BEST friends who hadn't done it. I just feel so...on my own now. It's hard to explain and I obviously am getting nowhere trying. It's just...I'm scared. When my best friend did it, he barely talked to me for months because he was so infatuated by the girl he was with at the time. They broke up and it nearly killed him. Then, the whole thing that ruined my friendship with Stephanie was her sleeping with her boyfriend. After that she totally changed. I mean like she did a complete 180. She used me, she used her other friends - just for more sex. And then she broke up with him because he said he loved her. That was NOT the girl I was best friends with.
Every time something like this happened, it was harder and harder for me because they were like my support group. They all decided they were going to "wait" and then just gave up. But every time they wanted to, I'd be there to support them and remind them of their decision. And vice versa. Then of course, bad stuff happened and I was glad I didn't give in when I wanted to even though it was uber difficult. Yorrick was my last friend who's life...who's relationship with me...hadn't been scarred by sex. Now I'm just scared. Scared for both of us.
---
So Friday was TWLOHA day. That day always moves me so much. Some people were asking me what it was, I explained but I realized I had trouble remembering the exact story behind the organization. So I decided to look it up online. That's when I stumbled across their intern program. Honestly? I feel like I'm meant to do it. I don't know why, or how. Gosh, it's in Florida, takes 3 or 4 months and it's unpaid. How the heck is that going to work out? I don't know. But I feel like it's supposed to. It's one of those things where I know will and I just have to sit back and let it happen because I know it will work itself out. That's one really amazing thing about my life. Somethings are revealed to me a head of time. I used to worry my ass off about them and freak out and think "OMG HOW WILL I MAKE THIS HAPPEN?" and then I started to realize that I don't make it happen. These things that are "meant to be" just somehow happen. I don't know how.
---
Speaking of that...or well, kind of speaking of that. I was going to go see Mike for Thanksgiving, right? Well, that didn't really work out. So I spent forever on the phone trying to convince him to come to my house instead but he was being a stubborn-ass about it because that's the way he is. So I told him to think about it and I would call him in a few days. Well he NEVER answers calls or texts and now there are no more tickets. Why? Why why why? What the HELL is wrong with me wanting to see Mike after like a fricking year, huh? This paragraph seems to completely contradict the last one. Wtf. I'm not even going to try to understand/explain this.
---
So I feel like I'm kind of starting to find my few friends here. I know I'm not meant to have many, I could complain, but I shouldn't. It's just not...meant to be? Meh. There's goes that whole thing again. But at least I know my personality type. The Meyers-Briggs workshop really helped me with that. And it helped me realize that I'm not the kind of person who's going to make friends with everyone on campus, and most importantly it helped me realize that that's okay. Brian (a kid in my Spanish class) is really great. I have to be careful though, because even though my intentions are quite innocent I don't want to be stepping on any toes when his girlfriend comes next semester. I know how I would be if I were in her position. I also really like Zach...this kid from the rugby team. He's super weird but maybe that's why I like him. He's really easy to tease, but he takes it so well. lol John and I sit with him at dinner almost every day and tease him about his weird eating habits. (When I say he eats everything on his plate, I mean Everything. Chicken bones included?) But he's kind of a loner, you know? Maybe that's what makes me so comfortable around him. Because I don't feel like he's going to ditch me, or John for that matter, when someone else he knows comes along. That's what everyone else here does. (Except for Brian.) Like today, we saw a bunch of guys from the rugby team after mass and they were all standing around talking, John and I walked over to say hey they all...well, most of them, a few didn't, said hi to him, completely ignored me, and then made this closed circle to John and I. It didn't bother me too much, they aren't really my friends, but John just stood there. Watching. I hate it when he does that. It's like he's in denial. I can't imagine how much it must hurt him. It just makes me awkward. At times like that I just want to grab his hand and run far far away and tell him that no one else matters. Fuck everyone else. We have each other and we don't need anyone else. And then people have the audacity to say we're "attached at the hip" or we're "too codependent" like it's OUR fault they leave us no choice. I don't know, maybe if they CONSISTENTLY acted like friends we wouldn't feel the need to cling to each other? Bastards.
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This is a very long post.
Have I mentioned my grades kind of suck and I'm not actually possitive I'm going to pass this semester?
There, I said it.
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I was going to end but I felt the need to mention that I don't want to go home for winter break. I hate home. Thinking about going back to that psychotic hypocritical environment filled with screaming, yelling, fighting, and curfew makes me want to jump off a cliff.
I do miss Becca though.
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