Ivy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ivybgreenflower) wrote2005-04-23 09:56 pm
ivybgreenflower) wrote2005-04-23 09:56 pm
Let me explain.
Okay, so, the last entry was a bit over the edge, drama-wise. The lyrics came from various Julian Lennon songs off of the Photograph Smile cd, THE most emo cd EVER. (He's a very emo person, really.)
But a lot of things have been going on in my life right now, most of them extremely stressful, depressing, and making me want to run away screaming to Alaska or someplace very far away where they speak English and I can live off of 80 dollars or whatever I have. It's just... hard. It really is.
It's hard to be put down and torn apart by people who supposedly love you. It's hard to have AP classes and try to live up to what's expected of you when all you want to do is crawl under the covers and sleep, and not be yelled at for your sleeping habits, or the state of the room you're sleeping in. You know what it's like when no matter what happens you'll pick the wrong choice. These things are constantly running through my mind, like, if I don't wear this shirt she'll be upset that I never wear it, but if I do she'll complain I look fat in it. If I excersize I look stupid; if I don't, I'm a "lump". If I wear nice clothes I look like crap in them; if I don't, I'm a slob. These aren't even my feelings, this is what I'm told. If I clean my room, I "stuffed everything all over"; if I don't, I'm a "disgrace", the word which made me hate my name so very, very much. My grandparents act like they're my parents, and my mother doesn't help; she brings up something like "And her ROOM is a MESS" and suddenly my grandmother and grandfather are yelling at me. And my father is no help at all since he's never, EVER home. He doesn't know me at all. I'm not totally sure he knows how old I am. Everything I do is "so cute" like I'm a five year old who learned a new word. I'm seventeen years old, it shouldn't be cute any more. I shouldn't have to take sides, either; my parents fight constantly. They don't like each other any more. I'm not exaggerating, this is what they've been telling me. It's like their marriage is falling apart and they don't care.
I've been keeping all of my negative feelings inside because people always either tell me that their lives are worse, that I'm being emo, or that I'm telling them that my life is worse. I can't help it, I feel like I have no one to talk to. I mean, I have my boyfriend, but that's online. And by the time I get online I'm too tired to rile myself up again, too tired to type, too tired to bring it all up to the surface after I spent all day trying to push it away, carefully hiding it. I'm sick of being so aggressive, and angry, and hateful.
I really hate myself. I annoy myself to no end. I have such horrible anxiety problems and they're annoying. I'm so ugly and I am getting fat, and don't you dare contradict me because I won't listen. I'm sick of my life, I'm sick of being me. I hate me.
My grandmother was supposed to go up to New York with her sister and meet their other sister and go to a party, and then fly to Las Vegas for awhile and have fun and be happy. My grandmother never gets to go anywhere except when someone dies, and since her sisters always get to go away she was excited about finally getting to do something, to. Only she had an eye operation, and her doctor told her she could fly, so she did, only something in her eye exploded, or something, and she's about lost eyesight in that eye (she'll eventually regain it, I think.) But she almost died. So she's stuck in New York, miserable and lonely crammed into my uncle's tiny, very, very messy apartment, half-blind and bored out of her mind with a red eye. All while her sisters were in Las Vegas, having a wonderful time. My poor grandmother was looking forward to this for weeks, about a month, really, and she was more excited than I've ever seen her. But instead her eye died and she's stuck in New York for a very long time. (Also, if we sue her doctor, we could get tons of money, which is nice, except for the ALMOST LOST HER EYESIGHT and ALMOST DIED parts.) But the point of this story is that my grandfather is still here. And he's annoying. Usually I have to go be annoyed in his house, but now he's coming HERE, every DAY, complaining about how I eat, dress, live, do anything at all. Get the hell out of my house, you annoying old man, or at least stop talking to me (and STOP SLURPING YOUR EFFING SOUP.)
And things with my boyfriend are rocky at best. We keep fighting, mostly my fault, and really because I'm too lazy/stupid/aggressive to really deal with anything.
And so last night we had a fight, and I figured I'd post an emo entry using dear Julian's words instead of my own to express my feelings about everything concerning that, and I'd use lyrics for all of these other feelings except no one sings about grandfathers who slurp soup and grandmothers who hate messy bedrooms, and bitchy mothers and clueless fathers.
Also, one of my grandmother's two brothers got into a car accident, but is apparently miraculously fine, and I'm waiting for news on that.
So that's everything, condensed; there's more, much more, but I don't feel like dragging any more up.
One more thing: Stop telling me to cut my hair, I WILL NOT DO IT STOP SUGGESTING IT ARGH. It kind of hurts my feelings.
Alright, so, that's the end of it all.
Oh, one last thing: DO NOT CALL ME NO MORE RINGING PHONES ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Ivyette @ 11:03 PM, xoxoxo, <3. Good night.
OMG PS:
But a lot of things have been going on in my life right now, most of them extremely stressful, depressing, and making me want to run away screaming to Alaska or someplace very far away where they speak English and I can live off of 80 dollars or whatever I have. It's just... hard. It really is.
It's hard to be put down and torn apart by people who supposedly love you. It's hard to have AP classes and try to live up to what's expected of you when all you want to do is crawl under the covers and sleep, and not be yelled at for your sleeping habits, or the state of the room you're sleeping in. You know what it's like when no matter what happens you'll pick the wrong choice. These things are constantly running through my mind, like, if I don't wear this shirt she'll be upset that I never wear it, but if I do she'll complain I look fat in it. If I excersize I look stupid; if I don't, I'm a "lump". If I wear nice clothes I look like crap in them; if I don't, I'm a slob. These aren't even my feelings, this is what I'm told. If I clean my room, I "stuffed everything all over"; if I don't, I'm a "disgrace", the word which made me hate my name so very, very much. My grandparents act like they're my parents, and my mother doesn't help; she brings up something like "And her ROOM is a MESS" and suddenly my grandmother and grandfather are yelling at me. And my father is no help at all since he's never, EVER home. He doesn't know me at all. I'm not totally sure he knows how old I am. Everything I do is "so cute" like I'm a five year old who learned a new word. I'm seventeen years old, it shouldn't be cute any more. I shouldn't have to take sides, either; my parents fight constantly. They don't like each other any more. I'm not exaggerating, this is what they've been telling me. It's like their marriage is falling apart and they don't care.
I've been keeping all of my negative feelings inside because people always either tell me that their lives are worse, that I'm being emo, or that I'm telling them that my life is worse. I can't help it, I feel like I have no one to talk to. I mean, I have my boyfriend, but that's online. And by the time I get online I'm too tired to rile myself up again, too tired to type, too tired to bring it all up to the surface after I spent all day trying to push it away, carefully hiding it. I'm sick of being so aggressive, and angry, and hateful.
I really hate myself. I annoy myself to no end. I have such horrible anxiety problems and they're annoying. I'm so ugly and I am getting fat, and don't you dare contradict me because I won't listen. I'm sick of my life, I'm sick of being me. I hate me.
My grandmother was supposed to go up to New York with her sister and meet their other sister and go to a party, and then fly to Las Vegas for awhile and have fun and be happy. My grandmother never gets to go anywhere except when someone dies, and since her sisters always get to go away she was excited about finally getting to do something, to. Only she had an eye operation, and her doctor told her she could fly, so she did, only something in her eye exploded, or something, and she's about lost eyesight in that eye (she'll eventually regain it, I think.) But she almost died. So she's stuck in New York, miserable and lonely crammed into my uncle's tiny, very, very messy apartment, half-blind and bored out of her mind with a red eye. All while her sisters were in Las Vegas, having a wonderful time. My poor grandmother was looking forward to this for weeks, about a month, really, and she was more excited than I've ever seen her. But instead her eye died and she's stuck in New York for a very long time. (Also, if we sue her doctor, we could get tons of money, which is nice, except for the ALMOST LOST HER EYESIGHT and ALMOST DIED parts.) But the point of this story is that my grandfather is still here. And he's annoying. Usually I have to go be annoyed in his house, but now he's coming HERE, every DAY, complaining about how I eat, dress, live, do anything at all. Get the hell out of my house, you annoying old man, or at least stop talking to me (and STOP SLURPING YOUR EFFING SOUP.)
And things with my boyfriend are rocky at best. We keep fighting, mostly my fault, and really because I'm too lazy/stupid/aggressive to really deal with anything.
And so last night we had a fight, and I figured I'd post an emo entry using dear Julian's words instead of my own to express my feelings about everything concerning that, and I'd use lyrics for all of these other feelings except no one sings about grandfathers who slurp soup and grandmothers who hate messy bedrooms, and bitchy mothers and clueless fathers.
Also, one of my grandmother's two brothers got into a car accident, but is apparently miraculously fine, and I'm waiting for news on that.
So that's everything, condensed; there's more, much more, but I don't feel like dragging any more up.
One more thing: Stop telling me to cut my hair, I WILL NOT DO IT STOP SUGGESTING IT ARGH. It kind of hurts my feelings.
Alright, so, that's the end of it all.
Oh, one last thing: DO NOT CALL ME NO MORE RINGING PHONES ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Ivyette @ 11:03 PM, xoxoxo, <3. Good night.
OMG PS:
 | You scored as Kablam!.
Which Old School Nickelodeon Show Are You? created with QuizFarm.com |
no subject
I don't think I've ever said any of that to you...
1. that's supra shitty that you feel this way
2. i feel supra shitty because you think you can't talk to me...?
Oh, and if the hair comment was directed towards Bianca and I, we were being facetious.
I mean, you poke fun at our short hair.
You know I like your hair, Grace.
I used to grab it all the time and brush it in 8th/10th grade.
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+ I bet I could find you a song about bitchy mothers/clueless dads if you need me to. Dunno about the slurping soup thing, though, sorry.
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Like...the old Blink. I'm not sure. The one song I heard didn't suck so much. I was impressed.
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I'm sorry I can't help at all.
And you aren't emo at all, People that think that are wrong. Just don't believe them.
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