(no subject)
So I'm sitting here, eating kiwi with a spoon. Fantastic. Well, not really. Since I've come home from school, I've already eaten a tortilla with onions and cheese, a granola bar, and now kiwi. I don't think I eat when I'm depressed, but when I'm frustrated. I've just had another chasing episode with my dog... she's such a brat. But what an adorable little manipulative brat she is. We've had her for about 2 and 1/2 months now, and she's still not 'socialized'. My mother thinks she was abused before she went to the SPCA, and there may be some psychological factors involved as well. I don't know. In some ways, I'm so much like her. Am I 'socialized'? Is that the main goal during adolescence? To become 'well-adjusted' and comfortable with your surroundings? Sounds like something out of the numerous teen psychology books on my mother's shelves; "How To Talk To Your Kids", "Beyond The Birds And The Bees", "Making the Transition", "Talking To Your Teen" among others...
On a similar note - I might be getting a shrink. Lovely. I'll probably be diagnosed with manic depression or something of the sort. It's ironic that I'm getting 'help' just as I'm feeling more motivated. Talking to people only seems to make me feel worse about myself as they try to diagnose me with stereotyped adolescent disorders. Ms. Greenberg, the broadcasting guidance counsellor, decided that I must be suffering from one of these ill fates. Thinking she was doing me a great favour, she booked me an appointment with a social worker. Oooh scary. Of course, there is an ominous label attached to 'social worker', but it wasn't half bad. She tried to diagnose me with some catalogued disorder just like everyone else has, but she was much more attentive than Ms. Grenberg. I guess she was trying to catch some note of abuse or something...
I went ahead with my promise and joined the theatre tech crew for the dance show. We've already had a practice on Saturday and Sunday, both from 10am - 4pm. It felt really strange coming back to school after being there almost the entire weekend. I didn't go to Salima's party, but apparently it thinned out around 11pm anyway. I have another tech rehearsal tomorrow after school from 4pm - 9pm, meaning I'll have to do two days worth of homework tonight, as well as study for my history and flute tests. I really don't want to do it. Somehow, I just managed to fit this short bit of writing into my endless schedule of procrastination. Meh. I'm feeling better already... more kiwi...
On a similar note - I might be getting a shrink. Lovely. I'll probably be diagnosed with manic depression or something of the sort. It's ironic that I'm getting 'help' just as I'm feeling more motivated. Talking to people only seems to make me feel worse about myself as they try to diagnose me with stereotyped adolescent disorders. Ms. Greenberg, the broadcasting guidance counsellor, decided that I must be suffering from one of these ill fates. Thinking she was doing me a great favour, she booked me an appointment with a social worker. Oooh scary. Of course, there is an ominous label attached to 'social worker', but it wasn't half bad. She tried to diagnose me with some catalogued disorder just like everyone else has, but she was much more attentive than Ms. Grenberg. I guess she was trying to catch some note of abuse or something...
I went ahead with my promise and joined the theatre tech crew for the dance show. We've already had a practice on Saturday and Sunday, both from 10am - 4pm. It felt really strange coming back to school after being there almost the entire weekend. I didn't go to Salima's party, but apparently it thinned out around 11pm anyway. I have another tech rehearsal tomorrow after school from 4pm - 9pm, meaning I'll have to do two days worth of homework tonight, as well as study for my history and flute tests. I really don't want to do it. Somehow, I just managed to fit this short bit of writing into my endless schedule of procrastination. Meh. I'm feeling better already... more kiwi...