The best and worst day of my life.....
I love how everything was just shit yesterday, and at the same time it was fantastic too. At least at night it was, when something would happen that would distract me from shit and just make me laugh. I really can't describe enough how much I love my friends, and I never realized how much I sort of take them for granted, not like, in the worst way but that, I've always just known that they were there, but I never realized how much comfort that gives me. Even if they are not actually there in front of me, they exist. But last night when I was as upset as I possibly could be, I still decided to go out to dinner with everyone for Wilo's birthday. I wanted to be there for his birthday, so I promised myself I would put on a brave face for him because I know what it feels like to have people upset on your birthday, especially a close friend, when I was in that situation, I felt guilty for being happy, and it's just not fun. But anyway, the day started off with an early morning fight with my mother. Ever since the first week of May, things have been shit with my parents. I came home on a friday that I was planning to go to Ben's prom, then to Wilo's for a sleepover with Gabi. We stopped at the mall on the way home and I was talking to Gabi and she reminded me that I forgot to get Ben a boutonier. I called my mom to ask her if she could run out and find one for me, since I needed to get home and get ready. She automatically flipped out at me because my journalism teacher sent her my progress report saying I'm failing. I tried to explain to her my side and everything, but there's no talking to her calmly when she gets upset. She screams and its frustrating because I don't like screaming at her, but I have to just to get her to listen and even then she doesn't. Then I get in trouble for yelling or swearing or being rude, but they don't listen to me when I'm polite so I have no choice if I want to get my point through. I try all the time to explain how I feel about journalism, calmly, but it always leads to an argument because she tries to tell me what I'm thinking. I'll tell her I can't do journalism, that I'm no good at it, at least not to Ms. Hags standards of it, and there's just so much work that I don't have time for, and the work I get done gets bad grades. She tells me not to say that, that I can do anything, that I'm so smart, and she just doesn't get it. I know I'm smart, but only at certain things, journalism is not one of them. She expects me to be good at everything I do, and every time I try to explain to her how stressful it is when she says that she just doesn't get it. In her mind, if I get a bad grade, I'm not trying. I've asked her time and time again if it's ever crossed her mind that MAYBE I'm not as perfect as she likes to pretend I am, and every time she says "I don't expect you to be perfect, I just want you to try." How the fuck does that work, she just wants me to try, but I have to be perfect to prove that I'm trying? And even worse, I'm doing better in my major classes, than I have my entire High School career so far. But one F in an ELECTIVE and suddenly none of my other classes matter because I'm still a failure. Yesterday during our argument, I said to her "I'm doing well in all my other classes, my lowest grade was a C" and her reaction was "I don't care about your other classes. You still failed!" Thank you, Mother Dearest. You are just so sweet and make me feel so good about myself. Beyond that, while we were having this argument, I was texting with Michael. We were talking about how he was going to come to Natick later that day to hang out with me, and before he had to stop texting he said "I love you, feel better. Everything with be okay." And for the first time in my life, I believed it. I usually hate when people say that, I've never believed it because they never know for sure. But I believed it because I love him and everything WAS going to be okay because later I would be with him. The thought of seeing him was what got me through the day. Wilo invited me to his birthday dinner at TGIF and I said I had plans with Mike be we would probably come. I had a priv last so I walked down town with TJ and at around three o'clock I called Mike to ask him what the plan was. Straight to voicemail. I thought maybe he was on the phone, called back a few minutes later. Straight to voicemail. Again, again, and again, straight to voicemail. Called his house, he wasn't home. Went online, he wasn't online, nor did he sign on at all for the entire night, if he had, he would have called me because when I went to dinner I put up an away message for him to call me. I still haven't heard from him. I went to dinner angry and abandoned. He knew he was the only one that could make me feel better at that point, that I needed him there to tell me everything would be okay so I could know it was true. And he didn't even bother to call and tell me he couldn't make it. I started getting worried because I was so scared that something happened to him. Would his parents call me if he was hospitalized? Would they call me to tell me he had gone missing? I have no idea, but i'm so scared that he's hurt of upset or something bad happened, and I'm also scared because I depend on him more than anyone and I don't know what I would do without him. Steve gave me a ride home and talked to me in the car, I cried. It's come to a point where I don't know what to do. I can't handle being with him, I can't live without him, and every time I think i can finally let go, I don't, and I go back, because I'm so in love with him. Then last night I finally got a chance to talk to my mom calmly, I told her how stressed I am, and how much I tried in journalism even though I didn't like it, because it made me feel like shit when she called me a failure. And how I feel like I don't get credit for what I do right because I always do something wrong. She tried to tell me how I "don't understand what it feels like to look at my childs report card and see a big fat F" and I told her that, no I don't, but I do know what it feels like to look at my own report card, and know that I'm doing better in my other classes, but still be a failure in my mothers eyes.