"And all my instincts, they return. And the grand facade, so soon will burn."
All right. I've been avoiding my livejournal because I felt so guilty using it as a completely self centered dumping place, but the way I see it, I need a place to dump where I can get support and advice from people who want to give it, and where the people who don't want to give it can ignore it. So I'm going to post a completely self-centered post right now. If you don't care, don't read it. If you do, read it. It's your decision.
I guess it all started in junior year. My grades were falling as a result of an inability to keep up with the work in my classes, and my mother hounded me and screamed at me on a daily basis, until the combination of my own failure and her pressure drove me to near insanity. I became suicidal, and I took up a less than healthy addiction. By the end of the year, I had tackled the schoolwork, and my mom stopped pressuring me so much. I stopped being suicidal.
Senior year, my problems were no longer school oriented. My classes were easy enough that I could pull off nearly straight As without any major effort. I found several schools that I liked and that I could get into, even with my junior year grades, and I got accepted into the only two schools I ended up applying to- Wells and Franklin and Marshall. This was all by mid December.
But that doesn't mean I was much better off. Every day, in concert choir, my self esteem dropped a little bit lower. It wasn't just that I felt like I wasn't good enough to be in it. It was also that I didn't feel comfortable with any of the people in the class, and my ever increasing insecurity made it even more difficult for me to even try to make friends there. Drama club was the same way, almost every day, except there, the guy who I believed was my best friend had already made friends (from the play that I had wanted to get into more than any other play I had ever tried out for, and I didn't get into it), and so I felt even more insecure. My less than healthy addiction continued.
Finally, the year ended. My last day of school before graduation, I finally talked to the guy who I believed was my best friend. He made it clear that I was no longer his "best friend," and that he can barely tolerate being around me anymore, because I'm painfully insecure, and all I do is dump on him. So in a way, I drove away the one person I tried to cling onto when everything kept getting worse by getting worse in the first place. After that, I tried to throw my rose petal collection out the window of my car when leaving the school, as a testament to leaving it. I crashed the car into the curb, gain a flat tire and a useless wheel covering, and then was grounded for a week because my cell phone had no power when this happened.
This week, I've been isolated from most of my friends, who haven't called me, and who I haven't tried to call. I've been home every day- sometimes with Kelsey, sometimes alone. I've slept late, rarely bothering to even change pajamas before going back to sleep in the evening. I've wandered around the house, reading and watching tv. I've had no energy to do anything, and I never cared that the car was gone for the week, because I didn't want to go anywhere. My less than healthy addiction has only gotten worse.
Then, two days ago I tried to work on Self Help Generation and found that my character, Alexis, has reached a standstill. I can't fix her problems without fixing my own problems, because I don't know how to fix her problems yet. This was my turning point, if there was one.
Now, a year later, a week later, a day later, a life later, I'm trying to get myself back together. I gave my mother the number for a therapist, because I want to get better. Trouble is, I don't know how much I can actually tell this therapist without her being legally obligated to tell my mother- namely about the less than healthy addiction, which my mother thinks I abandoned after junior year. And I really don't know how I can heal if I can't tell her about what I need to heal from.
Sorry for ranting. Thank you for listening, if you did. I'm done now.
I guess it all started in junior year. My grades were falling as a result of an inability to keep up with the work in my classes, and my mother hounded me and screamed at me on a daily basis, until the combination of my own failure and her pressure drove me to near insanity. I became suicidal, and I took up a less than healthy addiction. By the end of the year, I had tackled the schoolwork, and my mom stopped pressuring me so much. I stopped being suicidal.
Senior year, my problems were no longer school oriented. My classes were easy enough that I could pull off nearly straight As without any major effort. I found several schools that I liked and that I could get into, even with my junior year grades, and I got accepted into the only two schools I ended up applying to- Wells and Franklin and Marshall. This was all by mid December.
But that doesn't mean I was much better off. Every day, in concert choir, my self esteem dropped a little bit lower. It wasn't just that I felt like I wasn't good enough to be in it. It was also that I didn't feel comfortable with any of the people in the class, and my ever increasing insecurity made it even more difficult for me to even try to make friends there. Drama club was the same way, almost every day, except there, the guy who I believed was my best friend had already made friends (from the play that I had wanted to get into more than any other play I had ever tried out for, and I didn't get into it), and so I felt even more insecure. My less than healthy addiction continued.
Finally, the year ended. My last day of school before graduation, I finally talked to the guy who I believed was my best friend. He made it clear that I was no longer his "best friend," and that he can barely tolerate being around me anymore, because I'm painfully insecure, and all I do is dump on him. So in a way, I drove away the one person I tried to cling onto when everything kept getting worse by getting worse in the first place. After that, I tried to throw my rose petal collection out the window of my car when leaving the school, as a testament to leaving it. I crashed the car into the curb, gain a flat tire and a useless wheel covering, and then was grounded for a week because my cell phone had no power when this happened.
This week, I've been isolated from most of my friends, who haven't called me, and who I haven't tried to call. I've been home every day- sometimes with Kelsey, sometimes alone. I've slept late, rarely bothering to even change pajamas before going back to sleep in the evening. I've wandered around the house, reading and watching tv. I've had no energy to do anything, and I never cared that the car was gone for the week, because I didn't want to go anywhere. My less than healthy addiction has only gotten worse.
Then, two days ago I tried to work on Self Help Generation and found that my character, Alexis, has reached a standstill. I can't fix her problems without fixing my own problems, because I don't know how to fix her problems yet. This was my turning point, if there was one.
Now, a year later, a week later, a day later, a life later, I'm trying to get myself back together. I gave my mother the number for a therapist, because I want to get better. Trouble is, I don't know how much I can actually tell this therapist without her being legally obligated to tell my mother- namely about the less than healthy addiction, which my mother thinks I abandoned after junior year. And I really don't know how I can heal if I can't tell her about what I need to heal from.
Sorry for ranting. Thank you for listening, if you did. I'm done now.