Dear Me.

Dear Me,

You're sixteen years old. You've just had the most awkward, non-traditional sweet sixteen birthday party ever, four months after your actual birthday. Your best friend is spending the summer with you, and you've just gotten your first job. Congratulations, you're going to love it.

You're also going to save up and buy your first cell phone this year, but be careful. Having a direct line to you isn't the smartest thing in the world. You're still going to be extremely insecure when school starts back, but that's okay. You'll loosen up a lot this year and become more independent. You'll try out for the volleyball team, that sport you never ever wanted to play because it was for ditzy valley girls, and you'll actually make varsity.

But dear me, I have a bone to pick with you. Stop lying to your parents so much. Stop staying out late after school and then lying about where you've been. It's not worth the pain and frustration it causes you when you get home - not to mention what it's going to do to your relationship with your parents. Trust is not something easily gained, and you're throwing out of the window as though it were confetti. Please, please understand that they're worried about you, and it's frightening to see you growing up so quickly - ten years from now, you'll feel the same way as you watch your niece grow up.

Two years from now, on your way to college, you'll meet a boy. He's going to look exactly like you've always imagined, tall with dark curly hair, and a skater, to boot. He's even going to like you, like you.

HE IS BAD NEWS.

Please walk away from him. Don't give him the time of day, don't let him walk you to the train station...don't. He's going to break your heart, and he's going to take a lot of things from you that you can never get back, your first year GPA being one of them. Please don't talk to him...

Dear me, you're going to argue with your mom, a lot. And let me tell you something. That's not going to have changed ten years into your future. But it's a learning process for the both of you; you asserting yourself, her learning to let go and allow you to be you. You'll figure it out eventually, more or less. At the very least, you'll learn which battles are worth fighting.

Dear me, what's with those brightly colored leather belts you're always wearing, and why don't you ever take the tag off? You'll outgrow the "everything must match my shoes" phase soon...I can't wait for that.

You should try wearing your hair in an afro more often...it looks good on you. Don't you remember all the compliments you got that one time you tried it? Don't let your fear of what others will think stop you from being you. People are going to think what they want to regardless, and why should you change who you are or want to be to make them happy? You're the one who has to live with yourself for your entire life. So stop being so concerned about fitting in, or looking cool, or what others think of you. It doesn't matter. You'll probably always struggle with that, but try to remember that God didn't make a world full of carbon copies.

Yes. Ten years from now, you will be quoting your mother.

In short, live your life, and enjoy yourself. Your teenage years might feel like they will last forever, but one day you'll look back on a memory that feels like yesterday and be shocked to realize that it happened over a decade ago.

So live. Laugh. Love...yes, you are capable of that. Just try to direct it at the right people, the ones who value you in return. When you do that, you can live a life that has a few less regrets in it.

And whatever you do, do it with all your heart.

Dear me,

I love you.

nothing is ever enough.

ever.

organizing

I do all my stuff here.

All my stuff.

You just don't see it.

*smiles*

Anyway.

Okay, so I've come across this really cool and helpful blog, that helps new and beginning bloggers to blog more bloggerifically.

(that made perfect sense in my head)

So I'm going to attempt to make a thing, for my thing, and I'm going to write down what sort of things I need in my thing.

(that also made perfect sense)

Ok. So for my nerdy stuff, here's what I need in a topic planner.

Main Section
Day it gets posted on
Research (bibliography)
topic
post number
title
ideas
tags
keyword phrase

checklist
spellcheck
feature image
add tags
categorize it
promote it

Social media section
feature image
condensed summary
bit.ly

Gosh but sometimes I just get lazy. And I'm hot.

=(

alright

So some people think I should be saving up to move out on my own.

Eh.

My priorities are different. When I really sit back and think about it with a level head, I can't support myself on my own yet, and I want to finish my master's degree. Why should I struggle to do that when I can have support? Why should I voluntarily push away support? And I'm not talking about monetary, only. I mean...well. Anyway.

So what I'm saving for is to pay off my stupid SB fall 2014 bill. So that I can go back. And then I can get the career that I want.

Yes.

And work on my entrepreneurial endeavors in the meanwhile.

Someone help me.

idek (I don't even know)

I don't know what's going on. I don't know how to make sense of it all, and it's all in this huge mess inside my head, so I'm just going to ramble on disjointedly, and hopefully it all comes out and I can purge it and get a clearer perspective.

My job is falling apart.
My family feels like it's falling apart.
I'm so utterly confused on the inside and the outside and well, no, not the outside because I have to put on a fake smile at work everyday and it's so godawful to pretend everything is okay and to smile and say I'm fine when really I'm not and I don't know what's important anymore or how to prioritize anything or what to do moving forward or if I even am moving forward or am I just going to be stuck for the rest of my life...do I need to make changes? What do I need to change? How can I be there for  my family and take care of myself at the same time?

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG???????

Tell me. Some one with authority, please, please tell me and I'll change. I promise. I just don't know what it is. I'm obviously doing something incorrectly. But everything is just a big mess.

Someone told me that they had the gift of prophecy (back in December, I think) and that very soon, a crap ton of things were going to happen to me within a six-month time period that was going to be so overwhelming. I'm starting to wonder if this is it.

Both directors at my job up and quit. Just like that. Like, wtf? And that is going to leave a sh**ton of work for me, and they kept me out of the loop so much when they were here that I don't know half of what is going on now or how to deal with the backlash that is going to happen. We're understaffed. I'm looking for another job.

My mom and I...just....gosh. I don't know who to listen to, who to believe. It's like, if so many people, literally everyone who comes into our lives, is telling me that the way she is behaving is destructive towards me and the family, mustn't it be true? Isn't she the one that needs to change? But she always makes me feel as though I'm the one who is not doing enough, who doesn't care, but like, why can't you take care of yourself? Why do you have to sit home for eight hours a day, while I'm at work, and then only eat one rice cake and tell me about it when I come home like "I'm so miserable, I'm so desperately tired, and hungry, I need to eat and sleep, all I've eaten today is one rice cake, please make me food, please buy food for me, please take me here and there and everywhere..." Like, it's not my fault you didn't eat all day. I wasn't there preventing you from eating. Don't tell me you don't have food to eat, because you say you want a raw diet, but when there is salad in the fridge you don't want to prepare it.

When I've been at work all day long, and I come home and need to relax, recharge (I'm an introvert. I really, really REALLY don't like interacting with people) then you need me to drive you all around. And we don't get back till eleven pm or so. That is SO incredibly draining. So tell me. Am I wrong? And yes I complain. WHO WOULDN'T?

But then there are other times where I try to do things before being asked to. Like I'll get up in the morning and put on hot water like she needs, and bring it up to her. Or I'll get stuff together and make a giant salad that should last a day or two. And I'll take care of the animals. Oh yeah, the animals. Good God. We have two cats, four fishes, and two turtles. Now here's what I should be doing EVERY DAY.

Cats: Feed them, morning, lunch break, evening when I come home, and night before bed. Also clean the litterbox each time as well. Or at least check to see if it needs cleaning. Also put them outside on the leashes once a day, sometimes twice, depending on the weather. And then brush them each time I bring them back in.

Turtles: We have a 55 gallon tank. It used to be half full, and I would clean it every single day, completely. Cause turtles STANKY. LIKE STINKY STANKY. Now we have a smaller container inside it with water, but the filter won't fit in there, so I should still clean that each day. And I also have to feed them three times a day (because mom freaks out if they don't eat that often) and take them out and put them in a giant basin filled with water in order for them to eat there so when they poop it doesn't go in their home tank water.

Fishes: Feed them 3x/day. Also clean out their filter each day.

Then I'm supposed to sweep the bathroom floors each day, and clean the sinks as well. And I have to pre make meals for my mom. But see the thing is, whenever I do that, she decides she "can't" eat it, for whatever reason. So why bother? But still I try. But it's not enough, it's never enough.

So if I'm at work from 10:30 to 6:30, and doing things for you and the house until around 11pm or midnight, then when do I sleep? Or if I'm beyond exhausted and have to sleep, when do I work on my YouTube? When do I write? When do I do my blogs? When can I relax and read...if I were in school, when would I do my homework, my research, conduct my interviews?

How does all this fit into one life without burning it out? I can't take it.

I've had to take one day off per week because my job is too poor to pay us workers. So now I'll be making less. And I freaking joined Postmates and should be making some money, and my parents tried to (and succeeded in) talking me out of it. Like, what. the. sludge. (I'm trying so hard not to curse. SO HARD)

So I said screw that; just because you think that since I have a degree I should be working my way up and not down the ladder...I'm not going down the ladder. I'm doing something on the side. Something I actually WANT to do. So I signed up for shifts again. I'm doing it. I don't give a rats tail what they say. My mom doesn't want me to get hit riding bikes in the city, my dad thinks I'll be moving down the economic ladder.

SCREW IT ALL.

Why is so much of my life dictated by my parents and not wanting to disappoint/hurt/displease them? Why do I feel the need to run everything by them? It's because when I don't, I get made to feel bad about it. Like, FUKKKK. Can't I have my own life? You are NOT always going to be a part of it. Not to the extent that you have been for so long. Like I was literally afraid to move out because I worried who would be the mediator between my parents when they argued, and how would their marriage hold up without me? Well guess what? That's not my darn problem. I didn't ask you to get married. I didn't ask to be born. I could have done very well without existing. I would have been better off. So I'm not getting involved in their crap. They refuse to listen to me, they have deep seated issues from before I was even born that they're still holding onto and holding against each other, what am I supposed to do about that? NOTHING. I can't. I won't. I'm not being cruel or insensitive. I'm just doing my part, which is not to be involved in something that doesn't involve me.

I can't keep living my life like this. I need to live my dreams. And not answer to parents. My parents didn't answer to theirs by the time they were in their mid twenties. They lived in different countries by then. And I actually pointed this out to my mom today, and she said that she believes God sent her to America to teach her about Him.

I'm so done.

Really? So it's God's will and plan for me to be treated like a teenager my whole freaking life? NOT FCKING HAPPENING. I'd kill myself first. Sad, but quite probably true.

Although a less drastic option would be to move out, but honestly, I was away at campus and my mom would ask me to call her each night when I got back in the dorm. Needless to say, I didn't. And she used sound all wounded...like really, you're just needy. And I'm your only child and you don't want to let go of me. If you let me go, I'll come back. I'll want to be around you. If you tie a rope to me, I'll run and stay away the first chance I get.

Kind of like my cat.

I'm so tired. I need a plan.

You know what sucks, too? I don't feel any less upset or confused. Fudge. Writing usually helps.

Reminiscing and a Rant

I'm going to try this. I didn't do much of it last time, when I was going through everything. I don't know how I survived.

But I think I'm stronger this time. Or maybe I'm just numb. I'm not sure which...

How do you escape something? I'd like to run away.

You know, writing has always helped me, always been a part of who I am. I remember being four or five years old and in my parent's old Montecarlo that my dad paid a hundred bucks for. We were on the highway, on our way to church, I think, and I sat in the backseat next to my brother, scrawling away for all I was worth in my giant gray spiral notebook.

It was a story about a girl and her dog. A big, shaggy dog. Complete with illustrations.

*smiles fondly to self*

I was nine. We lived in a one bedroom apartment, all six of us. My mom, dad, brother, uncle, cousin, and me. The kitchen table was squeezed into a corner in front of the TV, and every night I'd perch on the old bar stool my dad had picked up and hammer away at my rustic typewriter. I loved that thing.

Somehow the feeling of creating lines and marks on a page that have meaning, that transport you from where you're sitting to another time, another place, another world entirely...somehow that's the best feeling there is.

So I'm going to try to do it more often.

I'm afraid. It doesn't make sense to tell people what's going on in my life, because it sounds like I'm looking for attention or pity. I'm not. I'd rather be quiet. I don't want to complain. But some days I feel like I'm going to burst, or like I want to hurl myself out of the window and find myself in an injured puddle on the asphalt. What do I do? Where is the outlet? How can I manage when I come home at six thirty in the evening and it's ten at night before I get to do anything for myself? How do I manage when my mom is constantly in pain, or depressed, or needy, or...I'm painting a bad picture of her.

She's going through so much. It's not all about me. I hate seeing her in pain, or upset. I don't know how to make it better. Why, why, why? Just, why? Is this supposed to prepare me for something later on in life? I hope not. I can't imagine what I'd have to face that would require me to be going through this now.

And while I'm at it, I might as well just pour out everything.

I think I'm a horrible person. No, really. I must be. I'm selfish (as is evidenced by my constantly complaining and wanting to be by myself when my mom needs help....

No. I can't take this. It's ten fourteen pm. It was ten oh six when I got out here to write. My mom just called me from where I dropped her off, and now I have to go pick her up, and drive her friends home.

Bye.