The other day, a very good friend of mine asked me what I was going to do with my life. I just looked at him, and said "I'll work here forever." He's been getting on me for years about going back to school. For those of you who don't know, I dropped out of college in my sophomore year. I had a 4.0 GPA and was ranked 2nd in the entire college. I won awards. People knew who I was. So why did I drop out? I hated it there. I never wanted to go to that school in the first place. In high school, I got accepted to every college and university I applied to. I received over a half million dollars in scholarships. I got accepted to Princeton. I could have gone anywhere I wanted to. Instead I was told by my family that I could not go away for school, which left Saint Peter's College as my only choice. I was miserable there from the start. I always had a perfect GPA, but I never worked for it. I was put it in a writing class with juniors who had repeatedly failed the class, in hopes that I could somehow teach them what the professors had been trying to teach them all along. I wanted to go to school to learn, not to have to teach others or to be held back from moving ahead because no one else could understand ANYTHING. After a year and a half, I finally gave up and left.
I never really explained my real reasons for leaving to anyone until recently. I didn't want people to think that I think I am better than anyone, because I don't think that at all. It was just extremely frustrating for me on many levels. I lost a lot of my faith in people during college. I realized that very few people were on my level, and I certainly couldn't find any there. Now, since I am 24, going to the Ivy League schools that I once dreamed of are out of the question. I don't want to be stuck in the same situation I was in before. That's why I haven't gone back.
But anyway, I don't think my friend is going to leave me alone until I go back to school. He insists that I am the most intelligent person at my job, even though I act like I am not. When I told him he was smart, too, he said "Sure I am, but I have to work my ass off for it. You don't even have to try. It's natural for you." In my heart, I know that he's right. I just don't want to accept it. My family has told me so many times that I need to stop thinking so highly of myself, that I'm just as dumb as everyone else. I guess I started to believe it.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
My Father
So, I guess I was lucky in the way that my parents never divorced and my father was always physically present, which is more than many others can say about their fathers. Then when I think about it, being physically present doesn't mean squat if the person is emotionally absent, as my father is and has been throughout my life.
When I was younger, my father worked a lot. Every holiday, he worked. After school and at night time, he worked. I never spent time with him, even as I got older. He never gave me hugs or kisses or showed any affection towards me. The only time he said anything to me was when he was yelling at me or making asinine comments about me or something I did. He was always an angry person, for as long as I can remember. If he said something incorrect and I would correct him, he called me stupid and told me I didn't know anything. When I was 14, I tried out for Varsity soccer. My father told me I was too fat and couldn't play for my life. I stopped going to practice. When I saw the coach at school, he asked me why I stopped coming to practice. I had made the team. In high school, when the guidance counselors called my parents and told them I was depressed, my father sat me in the corner and slapped me across the face, telling me he'd give me something to be depressed about. A few months ago, when I got a third job as a salesperson, my father told me I couldn't sell anything, and that I'd fail. I never went back.
So yes, sometimes I wish my father would have just left. In a way, I sympathize with him because he has had to deal with my mother this whole time, and that it the cause of most of his misery. My mother is even more physically and verbally violent than he is. I guess he just takes out his anger from her on other people, which most of the time is me. That is where my sympathy ends. He could have taken his anger out on someone else. He could have left my mother. Why didn't he protect me from my mother? He had to know what was happening, yet he didn't say anything. He just added on to the pain, and left me with no family to turn to. As horrible as it sounds, I do hate him. I just don't hate him as much as I hate my mother.
When I was younger, my father worked a lot. Every holiday, he worked. After school and at night time, he worked. I never spent time with him, even as I got older. He never gave me hugs or kisses or showed any affection towards me. The only time he said anything to me was when he was yelling at me or making asinine comments about me or something I did. He was always an angry person, for as long as I can remember. If he said something incorrect and I would correct him, he called me stupid and told me I didn't know anything. When I was 14, I tried out for Varsity soccer. My father told me I was too fat and couldn't play for my life. I stopped going to practice. When I saw the coach at school, he asked me why I stopped coming to practice. I had made the team. In high school, when the guidance counselors called my parents and told them I was depressed, my father sat me in the corner and slapped me across the face, telling me he'd give me something to be depressed about. A few months ago, when I got a third job as a salesperson, my father told me I couldn't sell anything, and that I'd fail. I never went back.
So yes, sometimes I wish my father would have just left. In a way, I sympathize with him because he has had to deal with my mother this whole time, and that it the cause of most of his misery. My mother is even more physically and verbally violent than he is. I guess he just takes out his anger from her on other people, which most of the time is me. That is where my sympathy ends. He could have taken his anger out on someone else. He could have left my mother. Why didn't he protect me from my mother? He had to know what was happening, yet he didn't say anything. He just added on to the pain, and left me with no family to turn to. As horrible as it sounds, I do hate him. I just don't hate him as much as I hate my mother.
Friday, July 9, 2010
From Zero to...Two Many?
Over a month ago, I was single and not even expecting to be with someone anytime soon. Then, I fell in love with SBMWSRN (Sexy Black Man Who Shall Remain Nameless). It's been a complicated situation because he has a girlfriend. I struggled for a little bit over whether I should continue the relationship, and decided WHY THE HELL NOT? I've been living as a quiet, safe, well behaving girl this whole time. I need a change.
I recently started talking to my ex again. I guess we made up, though never of us really apologized for what happened, it seemed like we were able to just pick up exactly where we left off, like nothing ever happened. I would have never thought I would talk to him again or even be able to forgive him, but I guess I have. I'm not sure why, but it seems I have a different attitude about a lot of things lately, especially relationships. So, now I'm seeing him again. And yes, I am also still seeing SBMWSRN. Neither of them know about the other. I'm not really sure what to do, or who to pick. I'm going to wait it out and see what happens. It's strange that SBMWSRN is seeing me behind his girlfriend's back, and I'm seeing my ex behind SBMWSRN's back, and ex is seeing me behind his girlfriend's back. Yes, I am the 'other woman' in both situations. A giant clusterfuck of lying...this has become my social life.
Oddly enough, I actually feel comfortable being the other woman instead of the girlfriend. I've been so fearful of relationships my whole life because I've never had a real, positive relationship with anyone (even familial).
The good thing about this is that I can stop it whenever I want. In reality, I'm in control of the situation. I decide what I do and don't do. I kind of like it that way.
I recently started talking to my ex again. I guess we made up, though never of us really apologized for what happened, it seemed like we were able to just pick up exactly where we left off, like nothing ever happened. I would have never thought I would talk to him again or even be able to forgive him, but I guess I have. I'm not sure why, but it seems I have a different attitude about a lot of things lately, especially relationships. So, now I'm seeing him again. And yes, I am also still seeing SBMWSRN. Neither of them know about the other. I'm not really sure what to do, or who to pick. I'm going to wait it out and see what happens. It's strange that SBMWSRN is seeing me behind his girlfriend's back, and I'm seeing my ex behind SBMWSRN's back, and ex is seeing me behind his girlfriend's back. Yes, I am the 'other woman' in both situations. A giant clusterfuck of lying...this has become my social life.
Oddly enough, I actually feel comfortable being the other woman instead of the girlfriend. I've been so fearful of relationships my whole life because I've never had a real, positive relationship with anyone (even familial).
The good thing about this is that I can stop it whenever I want. In reality, I'm in control of the situation. I decide what I do and don't do. I kind of like it that way.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Unwanted Advice
I hate when people try to give me advice. I hate it even more when I never ASKED for their advice.
The other day, I was sitting in my office on my break enjoying a Pop Tart and a diet Pepsi. One of the other guys came in and lectured me about how what I was eating wasn't healthy, that I shouldn't be eating and drinking these things that are bad for me, blah blah blah. I said "It's a fucking POPTART!" and shut the fucking door. This isn't the first occurrence, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Next time, I may knock the fucking shit out of him, even though he's old enough to be my grandfather.
I hate how people assume just because I'm unskinny, I sit around eating Twinkies and Mountain Dew all day. First of all, I have no health problems apart from my respiratory issues. My cholesterol is normal, I have no Diabetes or problems with my sugar, and my blood pressure is on the low to normal side. I know some skinny fucks that can't even say that. Second of all, I work a very physically demanding job. I work in areas that can reach up to 120 degrees with no air circulation, and I lift up to 200 lbs as a regular part of my job. I'm pretty sure whatever I eat, I'd be burning off in 2.5 seconds anyway. Lastly, I'm malnourished as it is. I'm lucky if I consume 1,000 calories in a day. I live on protein shakes and gummi vitamins most of the time.
So please, asshole, let me enjoy my goddamn Pop Tart and diet Pepsi. I'm actually considering purposely buying the most unhealthy shit I could think of and eat it in front of him, just so he could say something and I could knock him the fuck out. That is all.
The other day, I was sitting in my office on my break enjoying a Pop Tart and a diet Pepsi. One of the other guys came in and lectured me about how what I was eating wasn't healthy, that I shouldn't be eating and drinking these things that are bad for me, blah blah blah. I said "It's a fucking POPTART!" and shut the fucking door. This isn't the first occurrence, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Next time, I may knock the fucking shit out of him, even though he's old enough to be my grandfather.
I hate how people assume just because I'm unskinny, I sit around eating Twinkies and Mountain Dew all day. First of all, I have no health problems apart from my respiratory issues. My cholesterol is normal, I have no Diabetes or problems with my sugar, and my blood pressure is on the low to normal side. I know some skinny fucks that can't even say that. Second of all, I work a very physically demanding job. I work in areas that can reach up to 120 degrees with no air circulation, and I lift up to 200 lbs as a regular part of my job. I'm pretty sure whatever I eat, I'd be burning off in 2.5 seconds anyway. Lastly, I'm malnourished as it is. I'm lucky if I consume 1,000 calories in a day. I live on protein shakes and gummi vitamins most of the time.
So please, asshole, let me enjoy my goddamn Pop Tart and diet Pepsi. I'm actually considering purposely buying the most unhealthy shit I could think of and eat it in front of him, just so he could say something and I could knock him the fuck out. That is all.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
You're Insulting Me?
This week went by so quickly.
Since I got my old position back at work, I now work Monday through Friday and have the weekends off. It's good, but during the week I have almost no energy to do anything but work and sleep. I've also been fighting off a cold this past week, thanks to Sexy Black Man Who Shall Remain Nameless sticking his tongue down my throat and infecting it with his germs. He owes me big time.
Anyway, since I have a semi-hectic work schedule, I can't run errands like I used to be able to during the week. I had a $50 pair of Crocs I'd been meaning to return, but hadn't gotten the chance to. My brother said he was going to the mall, so I asked if he could return them for me. He said it would be no problem.
After I came home from work last night and settled down, I asked my mother (since my brother was asleep) where my $50 was. Her response? "I lent it to your brother." I stood there speechless, literally speechless. It was my money. It wasn't her money to lend. The way she said it bothered me, too, like she didn't even understand what was so bad about it. After a minute or two, I finally found the words to tell her that I really needed the money for bills (which happen to be her bills I have to pay, ironically enough). So, even more surprising than her original response, my mother says she will pay me back $20 next week, but that's all she owes me. When I asked her where the other money went, she said since she bought me some vitamins from Walmart that it's only fair that she deducts the amount. Gummy Princess vitamins from Walmart do not cost $30, AND I had picked up some things for her from Walmart a few days prior and didn't ask her for the money. I was enraged. I had to walk away or I would have blown up.
What's even worse is that my mother was offended by the way I handled the situation, and took it out on me the rest of the night, flinging insults at every opportunity. Normally I am good at ignoring her, but the combination of me being physically sick and exhausted from working made me extra sensitive, and her comments were genuinely hurting me. It's not easy to ignore comments from your own family. People tell me "Oh just ignore it" but you can't. You grow up being told to listen to your parents no matter what. Why stop now? I can recall every insult my mother has ever told me: ugly, fat, stupid, bitch, worthless, asshole, daughter of the Devil, failure and even a whore several times, which seems to hurt me the most out of all of the insults.
I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to ignore everything completely. No matter what happens, I always seem to hear her voice in my head, calling me a whore, whenever I do anything remotely sexual. It's ruining my life.
Since I got my old position back at work, I now work Monday through Friday and have the weekends off. It's good, but during the week I have almost no energy to do anything but work and sleep. I've also been fighting off a cold this past week, thanks to Sexy Black Man Who Shall Remain Nameless sticking his tongue down my throat and infecting it with his germs. He owes me big time.
Anyway, since I have a semi-hectic work schedule, I can't run errands like I used to be able to during the week. I had a $50 pair of Crocs I'd been meaning to return, but hadn't gotten the chance to. My brother said he was going to the mall, so I asked if he could return them for me. He said it would be no problem.
After I came home from work last night and settled down, I asked my mother (since my brother was asleep) where my $50 was. Her response? "I lent it to your brother." I stood there speechless, literally speechless. It was my money. It wasn't her money to lend. The way she said it bothered me, too, like she didn't even understand what was so bad about it. After a minute or two, I finally found the words to tell her that I really needed the money for bills (which happen to be her bills I have to pay, ironically enough). So, even more surprising than her original response, my mother says she will pay me back $20 next week, but that's all she owes me. When I asked her where the other money went, she said since she bought me some vitamins from Walmart that it's only fair that she deducts the amount. Gummy Princess vitamins from Walmart do not cost $30, AND I had picked up some things for her from Walmart a few days prior and didn't ask her for the money. I was enraged. I had to walk away or I would have blown up.
What's even worse is that my mother was offended by the way I handled the situation, and took it out on me the rest of the night, flinging insults at every opportunity. Normally I am good at ignoring her, but the combination of me being physically sick and exhausted from working made me extra sensitive, and her comments were genuinely hurting me. It's not easy to ignore comments from your own family. People tell me "Oh just ignore it" but you can't. You grow up being told to listen to your parents no matter what. Why stop now? I can recall every insult my mother has ever told me: ugly, fat, stupid, bitch, worthless, asshole, daughter of the Devil, failure and even a whore several times, which seems to hurt me the most out of all of the insults.
I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to ignore everything completely. No matter what happens, I always seem to hear her voice in my head, calling me a whore, whenever I do anything remotely sexual. It's ruining my life.
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