Didja know that? I'm seventeen today. Seventeen years.
My parents are yelling at each other, as I speak. My brother thinks it's hilarious because he wanted to take a shower but he wanted to wait and play xbox and not do his homework. My dad says obviously no shower tonight, my mom says go now because he's a lazy little assnugget and when I'm leaving to go to school in the morning? He hasn't even opened his eyes yet. My mother has work and he makes her late every day. But that is no concern of his. He's literally laughing like it's the funniest thing in the world that he didn't have to do his homework, gets a shower, xbox, made my parents argue more so they fight each other and not him, and tomorrow he will sleep him. Like every day.
I wore a dress and a tiara to school today. I figured the tiara would be a dead beacon, but I guess my school thinks I'm such a strange bird that I would wear a tiara to school on any normal day? Oh well. Maybe this was the most times I've heard happy birthday ON my birthday, in atleast the last 7 years. It wasn't a bad birthday.
Steve made me a pie! I haven't eaten it yet though. Wish I had. But in class I didn't have a fork, I didn't want to bring it to YAP and not be able to finish it or have it break or mash or something, and I didn't get to eat it after because I needed to eat my dinner and then cake and cake and apple pie don't mix.
I feel a little bit outcast. And not because of the tiara. Just in general.
I went to YAP and we got a new girl and this kid from the other group. As far as the other group goes, this kid is probably the one I would choose to bring to our group, but he still acts like he's in the other group. Not like our group. I don't like it. Hopefully he'll catch on. Maybe we are getting a little cliquey, you know? I didn't talk to Fran. I was going to, but the moment never was right and I didn't know what to say and it was just, well what would I tell her? How would I explain to my mom? I don't know. I'll call her maybe. She called me, after YAP. Because Shei asked if I wanted to talk to Fran? And Fran saw me hesitate. I liked being called. I felt kinda important. Like it mattered and I was right- that something's wrong and I'm not losing my mind. That other people can see it and I'm not just dramatic.
This other kid Cody is gay and he likes to tell us that and it's very radical. I want to yell out, hey, me too! But I wouldn't do that. Too much to figure out. Too many "It's ok, we accept you" looks. Pitying eyes. I don't need that. We put secrets on the wall today and had to guess who's was who's. I felt like I could guess them, but I felt like a ******* because I had a meltdown when I had to come up with one. There was nothing and Shei was trying to help but I'm not ready to share. I wouldn't know how to share. I'm getting close to ready, I think. But I didn't know- I wasn't going to put something personal if no one else was. But then other people were- but what could I share? I'm not that interesting.
We talked about abuse. And that it's common that a lot of kids in group were abused. In all different ways. A few talked openly about it, but most kids got very quiet. And I almost felt that spoke just as loudly as words.
I have not got the will power to open up about anything. I want to. I'm working myself up to it. But it's just all so deeply part of me. I feel a need to think everything ten steps ahead. People hate when I do it but I know what they will say before they talk, and they have no problem telling me I'm stupid because of it. Fine. They're only mad because I'm right and that's exactly what they WERE going to say. I'm not that interesting and I need to keep something secret. I plan all the things out- all the random, unimportant things I make extra effort to share with EVERYONE I come across. And so the details, you won't even notice you don't know them. Anything other people consider annoying. I'm trying to work out telling people how I feel when I'm feeling it- not a month later. Not years later. Not never. I wanna tell them now, and fix it. I will not stew. But I just can't. Words get stuck in my mouth and I just gag.
I just want to say. Since I'm much braver in words than in speech. And really, I use backspace for spelling errors, not changing what I'm writing. I don't like to scribble things out on paper. But when I talk I stutter and stumble and in words, sure I make mistakes, but I can get the point across. There are things I think about so much but have never told a soul. Isn't that teenage of me? But maybe one day I will be sharing things and I'll think back and say that was way back when I was sixteen. And they'll say No it wasn't, you told me that in your 20's. Etc. Well here you go, and you'll know it was real. You'll know I was real. I won't ever forget.
Hi, my name is Kristina and I'm a little gay. I can't remember the glorious details, but I was molested as a child. I could never tell anyone that because to tell them that would be betraying so much trust and that's not the kindof person I am. I wonder if that's what makes me a little bit prone to making sex a manipulative thing. I care more about people than I care to admit, and I miss everyone I've ever lost contact with. Even if I didn't like them. I have a lot of little health issues and I wonder if it's all in my head. The pain is real, but do I just worry myself sick about it? I'm extremely negative and I know it. It's not that I want to put everyone down, it's just my personality. I don't really lie because it's much funnier to me to just tell the truth and watch no one believe you. Then again, I can lie to myself and believe it's true, and then I'm not really lying to everyone else. Because to me, it is true. Most of my friends are people that don't see me everyday because, well, then they might actually make connections and I wouldn't be who I am to them. I am confused that I live in a closet in so many points of my life, but I get embarrassed about things I shouldn't be embarrassed about, then anxious and I turn red. And it's all down hill from there. I have an eating disorder. And it feels very real to say that again and feel like it's true. I am suicidal. And I can't say that out loud unless I'm under the influence. I worry about money when it isn't a worry. My priorities are just plain skewed.
My birthday cake is delicious.
Happy birthday to me :P
(Part of me says one day a year that everyone is glad you're born, please don't let it end. Part of me wishes it never happened so I didn't have to worry about how I'm supposed to feel. I panic whenever I see the date. But now my heart hurts knowing it's almost over.)