Summer!
It's finally here.
My last final ended on Thursday. I packed and moved out last Saturday. For the past two days (until Wednesday), Adrian is staying with us. He's headed to London for the next 4 months, then back to California.
My summer, unfortunately, isn't herely as exciting. I'm going to Athens in mid-September (God will, that I get this insane visa process done). I'm going to summer school from June 22-August 5th (IF the grants comes through).
The rest of the time...
*sighs*
I've only been home a few days, and I'm already starting to look for escape routes. My family and I have never really gotten along. We're all too insane...but we're insane in a way that isnt' compatible with one another. Already, I've averaged a fight a day with my parents...on everything from what time I go to bed (darling mother, I'm TWENTY years old!), to the temperature the apartment needs to be set at (she absolutely refuses to set it for lower then 80-82 degrees. I'm about to move into the freezer).
It hasn't been a good start at all...and there's nothing to suggest that things will get any better. The problem, I think...is that my parents love me, but they know so little about me. They're convinced that they know what is best for me...without having any real sense of who I am. I wish I could tell them, show them...but all my attempts have ended in either denial on their part, or rather badly. Take the depression. I told them during my senior year of high school that I was depressed. It should have come as no surprise, considering in the two years prior to my announcement, I went from being a straight-A, outgoing girl into a self-imposed isolation...while failing school and dating an abusive 22-year-old. My parents took me to the doctor's...who prescribed anti-depressents. I'm not a big fan of popping pills, but even I could tell that my situation was extreme...and counseling alone wouldn't be enough.
My mother took the medication away from me, citing some shoddy research from an herbal company that they were dangerous--despite my efforts to show her a mountain of peer-reviewed research in prestigious journals otherwise. *sighs* Looking back, it's almost comical. Back in high school, I was deeply depressed, dealing with an eating disorder, and occasional suicidal. I was far more dangeorus to myself.
I was 17 while I raged on this debate with my parents. They technically won: but my family doctor (whom I still adore), continued to give me samples of the medication until I no longer needed them. Even though I disliked going behind my parent's back, I still stand by the decision I made--there are times when I kno what's right for me. At the very least, I have the right to choose, now that I'm able to be responsible for the consequences of my choices.
But my parents...my mom especially...never really understood that. She has a very set view of what's "best" for me. She wants me to find the boyfriend that SHE wanted for herself 25 years ago, while she was in college. She doesn't realize that so many of the traits that she values means little to me...that I wouldn't be happy with her choice. She loves me dearly--I've never doubted that, but she can't understand me at all except in relation to herself...
*sighs* The issue is too complicated (and frankly, too depression) for me to dive into on a public journal. It's sufficent to say that I've pretty much given up on trying for a mutrually respectful relationship with my parents. Perhaps one day, when enough time has passed so that we can laugh as we look back, I can sit down and tell her everything (well, ALMOST everything). But for now, the face I present to her--the face I'm forced to present is almost entirely different who I am I really am. And it drains me.
I can't spend the next 6 weeks here, counting off the days until summer school starts. I've buried myself in books--just about a novel a night...but it's still not sufficent. I feel guilty for feeling this way...but I NEED to get out of here. Champaign doesn't feel like home--I'll never be here long enough for it to start feeling like home.
I might visit Blythe in Evansville, if things work out. We were roomates--if we can tolerate each other for a semester and a half while sharing our tiny room, I think we can get along for a few weeks.
I want to visit Naperville...I have friends there that I haven't seen in months, or years. But trying if I'm going to do that, I'll need a place to stay...and our house is already up on the market.
In the meantime, while I'm waiting for the dice to fall...
I curl up under the blankets (yes, even in the sweltering heat) and read.
My last final ended on Thursday. I packed and moved out last Saturday. For the past two days (until Wednesday), Adrian is staying with us. He's headed to London for the next 4 months, then back to California.
My summer, unfortunately, isn't herely as exciting. I'm going to Athens in mid-September (God will, that I get this insane visa process done). I'm going to summer school from June 22-August 5th (IF the grants comes through).
The rest of the time...
*sighs*
I've only been home a few days, and I'm already starting to look for escape routes. My family and I have never really gotten along. We're all too insane...but we're insane in a way that isnt' compatible with one another. Already, I've averaged a fight a day with my parents...on everything from what time I go to bed (darling mother, I'm TWENTY years old!), to the temperature the apartment needs to be set at (she absolutely refuses to set it for lower then 80-82 degrees. I'm about to move into the freezer).
It hasn't been a good start at all...and there's nothing to suggest that things will get any better. The problem, I think...is that my parents love me, but they know so little about me. They're convinced that they know what is best for me...without having any real sense of who I am. I wish I could tell them, show them...but all my attempts have ended in either denial on their part, or rather badly. Take the depression. I told them during my senior year of high school that I was depressed. It should have come as no surprise, considering in the two years prior to my announcement, I went from being a straight-A, outgoing girl into a self-imposed isolation...while failing school and dating an abusive 22-year-old. My parents took me to the doctor's...who prescribed anti-depressents. I'm not a big fan of popping pills, but even I could tell that my situation was extreme...and counseling alone wouldn't be enough.
My mother took the medication away from me, citing some shoddy research from an herbal company that they were dangerous--despite my efforts to show her a mountain of peer-reviewed research in prestigious journals otherwise. *sighs* Looking back, it's almost comical. Back in high school, I was deeply depressed, dealing with an eating disorder, and occasional suicidal. I was far more dangeorus to myself.
I was 17 while I raged on this debate with my parents. They technically won: but my family doctor (whom I still adore), continued to give me samples of the medication until I no longer needed them. Even though I disliked going behind my parent's back, I still stand by the decision I made--there are times when I kno what's right for me. At the very least, I have the right to choose, now that I'm able to be responsible for the consequences of my choices.
But my parents...my mom especially...never really understood that. She has a very set view of what's "best" for me. She wants me to find the boyfriend that SHE wanted for herself 25 years ago, while she was in college. She doesn't realize that so many of the traits that she values means little to me...that I wouldn't be happy with her choice. She loves me dearly--I've never doubted that, but she can't understand me at all except in relation to herself...
*sighs* The issue is too complicated (and frankly, too depression) for me to dive into on a public journal. It's sufficent to say that I've pretty much given up on trying for a mutrually respectful relationship with my parents. Perhaps one day, when enough time has passed so that we can laugh as we look back, I can sit down and tell her everything (well, ALMOST everything). But for now, the face I present to her--the face I'm forced to present is almost entirely different who I am I really am. And it drains me.
I can't spend the next 6 weeks here, counting off the days until summer school starts. I've buried myself in books--just about a novel a night...but it's still not sufficent. I feel guilty for feeling this way...but I NEED to get out of here. Champaign doesn't feel like home--I'll never be here long enough for it to start feeling like home.
I might visit Blythe in Evansville, if things work out. We were roomates--if we can tolerate each other for a semester and a half while sharing our tiny room, I think we can get along for a few weeks.
I want to visit Naperville...I have friends there that I haven't seen in months, or years. But trying if I'm going to do that, I'll need a place to stay...and our house is already up on the market.
In the meantime, while I'm waiting for the dice to fall...
I curl up under the blankets (yes, even in the sweltering heat) and read.