2001-10-24
1:27 a.m.

Is it wrong of me to be tired of "bumps in the road" as my mom likes to put it? I know it's all a part of life, and without them, good times wouldn't be so good. I don't know, it just seems like I am getting too many of them at the moment. I'm begining to feel that icky feeling of depression sneaking back into my life. I am going to fight the crap out of it, because I don't want to ever feel like that again. It's like I lose control of my thoughts, and emotions, and that scares me. I don't like that feeling.

I know, that without most of the events of my past, I wouldn't be who I am today. I like me. I really do. I guess I just feel like I missed out on being a teenager. I don't have fanciful tales of high school, because I never made it past tenth grade. I think that that aspect of my life has bothered me more than I ever let anyone know. I was a straight A student, I was in the "smart classes," I wasn't supposed to have a problem. I wasn't supposed to be so overwhelmed by some invisible fear, that I couldn't even make it out of the car to go to school. Girls like me don't "drop out." All my fancy little plans took a one way route to the local garbage can. I wasn't going to get the HOPE scholorship, I wasn't going to get to go to the college of my choice, I may not even make it into vet school. I'm not going to have a senior prom, or homecoming. No graduation photos for me. I never really let anyone know how much this stuff killed me. I hide behind jokes of getting to sleep late, and such as that, but the truth, it hurts. In a small way, I did enjoy school, no, I didn't like homework, or tests, but school was always something I was good at. When my step-father would complain about all my "faults" he could never complain about school, because that was my domain. I was "perfect" there. Then I lost that. Now, I keep thinking I am better, that I can finally get on with my life, and then, it's like someone kicks me down again, and I find myself failing. I don't like to fail. I try so hard, I push myself to the limits, and still I fail. Fail at something I used to be good at, something I used to enjoy. I don't know what to do.

Now, I'm working, trying desperately to bring in enough money to keep my mom and I afloat. My donation drive brought in a hundred and twenty two dollars, which believe me, has helped, but it's no where near enough to keep my house. I am so afraid. I don't want to lose this place. My mom is being swallowed by depression, feeling responsible for all of our problems. She thinks she is a terrible mother, a terrible person. I try to convince her that I haven't turned out half bad, she had to have done it right. I hate to see her hurt, but I can't fix it. I can't seem to fix anything anymore.

Then, if that wasn't enough, my dogs dug a new hole under the fence, just in time to bark at some grumpy old man who was walking by the house. The man thought the dogs were going to bite him. He came by, and instead of waiting three seconds to talk to my mom, he yelled at me, said he had called the police, and animal control, and wasn't going to stop until my dogs were all taken away. Then, he sped off. With everything that has been bothering me lately, pent up inside, it all just came out. It started with a tear drop out of the corner of my eyes, and ended with my mom holding me while I cried. I don't know if I can continue to try and be the strong one. Acting as if things don't bother me when, each thing is another stab directly at my heart. Even simple words seem to hurt me now.

I seem to go back and forth from having my heart so locked up that no one can reach it, to wearing it on my sleeve, where it's fair game for hurt.

I really do love my life. My relationship with my mom is wonderful. I've always got support when I need it. I've had chances that a lot of people haven't. I've always had food on the table, and a roof over my head. I just get sick of these bumps in the road, which have begun to really give me a headache. Somehow, I'll make it through.



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