Oh, how I want this horrible week to end.
I need to rant. This entire week has just been so. awful. Honestly? I no longer wonder why people get depressed and suicidal. Not that I am, of course, suicidal. Still.
I've spent most nights this week crying. Sobbing, even. And who even gave a damn about that? No one. Obviously. Everything is just going so wrong lately, and I've been so upset. This whole moving business is stressful. I've barely seen Jaymee all week. I probably won't see him tomorrow, either, unless God decides to take pity on me.
I think I'm slowly going insane from all of this. I'm losing it. Completely. I can't think straight. I hardly remember eating. Or drinking anything, for that matter. We have to be out in a week. A week. Which, it seems, we knew for a month or two. Oh, yeah, real bright. We're not even packed yet. We haven't even found a house yet.
I'm so prone to tears right now. In fact, my eyes are so watery I cannot see the screen. What did I do to deserve karma like this? I started crying in front of my mom, right? She pulled a "my problems are greater and more important than yours" act. I have Kari telling me to go to bed. Why go to bed when all I'll wake up to is more stress? It just makes time go faster. And I'll cry more. Then there's...everyone else. I go off by myself at lunch, and it takes people quite a while to notice. Those who do notice are people I highly dislike. People who got extremely close to my face and said, "You're such a loner Hannah. It's funny. Haha. Emo." Well. Person.
I really hate life right now, you know? I wish I could just...leave it all behind, sometimes. Everything I'm tied to. My friends, my family...everything. Everything that gives me emotion.
And the people who don't even realize that I'm crying over them right now. Well. Him. I've been so miserable this week, mainly because of one person. I really hate that I can let a single boy dictate my emotions like that. Not even anything that's his fault, either. I'm sure he's blissfully unaware that I'm finding it harder and harder to function normally or think as I usually do or even dress normally. I'm just so tired and stressed and everything is working against me. Everything. Even me, possibly.
To top it all off, the best friend I've ever had is moving in a week. I don't even know if I'll see her again. Either way, it won't be the same.
It's just...right when I thought my life was finally going to be good for once, it turns around and bites me, sharply reminding me of who I am: Hannah St. John, the girl who is loved by few and understood by fewer, the loner with the high IQ, that one girl you see in the hallway who never looks the same twice. That's me. I'm rarely happy, frequently apathetic. The times when I am happy are ripped away like seashells in the tide, like...like a house is destroyed under heavy machinery. No moment of joy is ever enough, and I always wonder why it can't last forever. Just a single moment where I'm really, truly happy--I'd like to bottle and stopper it and keep it on a shelf to take out in weeks like this when I feel as though my heart may explode in my chest and my spine may twist, bend, crumble and my lungs may collapse in on themselves and to make matters worse I can't think enough to make that coherent or not a run-on or even grammatically correct.
Goes back to my previous idea. I'm going completely fucking batshit.
I'm still not done, though, so have another listen.
It isn't enough that I can't see my boyfriend. It has to be because we're searching for houses. We should've done this ages ago. Honestly, I thought we'd found one. But they haven't contacted us. So tomorrow I'm being dragged out of bed early to look at yet another house. One which, I am certain, I will have no opinion whatever on. Just like the others. You see, it doesn't matter to me what the house is like as long as I'm near the ones I love. Outside my family, which has yet to realize that I haven't been very happy lately--indeed, they still haven't noticed that I've ruined my makeup with tears nearly every day this week. Or that I have obligations. School related, too. Jim may end up doing our whole project, for example, because we've no means of getting together.
Additionally. My mother has been pressing me to get friends for ages now. I finally do have said friends, and she complains. She complains that she has to drive me everywhere (after she said she'd be willing to take me to their houses) and why can't I think about her feelings. Her feelings? I'm sorry, but in my world, my happiness comes first. I can't drive yet. One of the many pleasures of being Just Fourteen. So she complains about taking me places. Just like she weasled out of taking me to Pleasanton in a week, like she promised in September. It's not fair at all. I can't even trust her anymore, thanks to that.
And, finally, to make matters even more wonderful: I'm failing math.
No cut for you. You don't want to read, skip over the entry.
I've spent most nights this week crying. Sobbing, even. And who even gave a damn about that? No one. Obviously. Everything is just going so wrong lately, and I've been so upset. This whole moving business is stressful. I've barely seen Jaymee all week. I probably won't see him tomorrow, either, unless God decides to take pity on me.
I think I'm slowly going insane from all of this. I'm losing it. Completely. I can't think straight. I hardly remember eating. Or drinking anything, for that matter. We have to be out in a week. A week. Which, it seems, we knew for a month or two. Oh, yeah, real bright. We're not even packed yet. We haven't even found a house yet.
I'm so prone to tears right now. In fact, my eyes are so watery I cannot see the screen. What did I do to deserve karma like this? I started crying in front of my mom, right? She pulled a "my problems are greater and more important than yours" act. I have Kari telling me to go to bed. Why go to bed when all I'll wake up to is more stress? It just makes time go faster. And I'll cry more. Then there's...everyone else. I go off by myself at lunch, and it takes people quite a while to notice. Those who do notice are people I highly dislike. People who got extremely close to my face and said, "You're such a loner Hannah. It's funny. Haha. Emo." Well. Person.
I really hate life right now, you know? I wish I could just...leave it all behind, sometimes. Everything I'm tied to. My friends, my family...everything. Everything that gives me emotion.
And the people who don't even realize that I'm crying over them right now. Well. Him. I've been so miserable this week, mainly because of one person. I really hate that I can let a single boy dictate my emotions like that. Not even anything that's his fault, either. I'm sure he's blissfully unaware that I'm finding it harder and harder to function normally or think as I usually do or even dress normally. I'm just so tired and stressed and everything is working against me. Everything. Even me, possibly.
To top it all off, the best friend I've ever had is moving in a week. I don't even know if I'll see her again. Either way, it won't be the same.
It's just...right when I thought my life was finally going to be good for once, it turns around and bites me, sharply reminding me of who I am: Hannah St. John, the girl who is loved by few and understood by fewer, the loner with the high IQ, that one girl you see in the hallway who never looks the same twice. That's me. I'm rarely happy, frequently apathetic. The times when I am happy are ripped away like seashells in the tide, like...like a house is destroyed under heavy machinery. No moment of joy is ever enough, and I always wonder why it can't last forever. Just a single moment where I'm really, truly happy--I'd like to bottle and stopper it and keep it on a shelf to take out in weeks like this when I feel as though my heart may explode in my chest and my spine may twist, bend, crumble and my lungs may collapse in on themselves and to make matters worse I can't think enough to make that coherent or not a run-on or even grammatically correct.
Goes back to my previous idea. I'm going completely fucking batshit.
I'm still not done, though, so have another listen.
It isn't enough that I can't see my boyfriend. It has to be because we're searching for houses. We should've done this ages ago. Honestly, I thought we'd found one. But they haven't contacted us. So tomorrow I'm being dragged out of bed early to look at yet another house. One which, I am certain, I will have no opinion whatever on. Just like the others. You see, it doesn't matter to me what the house is like as long as I'm near the ones I love. Outside my family, which has yet to realize that I haven't been very happy lately--indeed, they still haven't noticed that I've ruined my makeup with tears nearly every day this week. Or that I have obligations. School related, too. Jim may end up doing our whole project, for example, because we've no means of getting together.
Additionally. My mother has been pressing me to get friends for ages now. I finally do have said friends, and she complains. She complains that she has to drive me everywhere (after she said she'd be willing to take me to their houses) and why can't I think about her feelings. Her feelings? I'm sorry, but in my world, my happiness comes first. I can't drive yet. One of the many pleasures of being Just Fourteen. So she complains about taking me places. Just like she weasled out of taking me to Pleasanton in a week, like she promised in September. It's not fair at all. I can't even trust her anymore, thanks to that.
And, finally, to make matters even more wonderful: I'm failing math.
No cut for you. You don't want to read, skip over the entry.