Out Here on my Own

I'm so frustrated.

It's been months since I moved out on my own. I have covered every bill of my own besides phone (long story) and my medical bills. I bought all of the clothes I wear, I buy all of the gas I use, I bought the furniture (aside from the bed, which was given to me).

The thing is that I've always loved being a student. And I'm good at it. It really bothered me when my dad just decided to not pay for my school anymore.

I'm not trying to be dramatic, but I don't understand why I've always been the red headed stepchild of my family. To be fair, all of my blood related siblings are treated DRAMATICALLY differently than my stepsiblings. All of the money comes from my dad's pocket, but somehow my sister and I wear clothes from the thrift store and drive dumpy hand-me-down vans while my stepsiblings exclusively wear brand name clothing and all drive new cars. There is a ridiculous difference in our lives.

My little brother used to have it the worst. He has behavioral issues, and his anger clashed with my stepmom's bipolar lack of empathy. She eventually succeeded in pushing him out of the house. He now lives with my incredibly unstable mother, who lives with Borderline Personality Disorder and is barely there. Knowing what I know now, my brother should've had a consistent behavior plan and a stable home. But my dad has never allowed his own children to be the priority so long as my stepmom was speaking to him.

After my brother left, it was all me. I had a feeling that would happen, knowing my stepmom would need someone to hate. She always had to comment on how emotional and sensitive I was (since I'm a scorpio - OBVIOUSLY) and she knew how to rub me the wrong way.

For one, both my mother and my stepmom are hoarders (my dad's great at picking them). My mom, however, was especially disgusting. While my stepmom piles up things she doesn't need, it's never dirty. She piles up storage bins and leaves them sitting. My mom's house was filthy. I remember once she had let cooked beans spill on the porch and she let them mold there without bothering to clean them up. Living in a house like that taught me hygiene better than most would expect. My mom used to make fun of me for cleaning my room, but I kept everything organized and clean. It was my sanctuary. So I don't like people touching my things.

Of course, this means my stepmom comes in my room whenever she feels like it, looks through my stuff, opens my mail, rearranges my drawers, you name it. I was constantly pissed off in her presence because she was always doing things like this. She also leaves these condescending notes all over the house reminding you to do obvious things. She is the queen of speaking to you like you're a moron despite the fact that she is no representation of great intelligence herself.

Anyway, one day she had done something with my laundry and I asked her about it. She claimed I gave her attitude and started giving me her typical condescending shake down. I decided (stupidly- I had enough experience with mental illness to know better) to ask her why she randomly ignores me for days at a time when I did nothing wrong. Her response is, and I quote (how could I forget?): "Because Colleen, your personality is like a cactus, and some days I just don't want to deal with it." Beautiful. I wish I could say this was new to me, but I've heard much more and much worse from my own mother. It BAFFLES me that my dad doesn't realize he married my mother again with a different, uglier hairstyle. Anyway, after that, I decided I was done making an effort with her. Both my stepmom and my father make absolutely no effort in their relationships. If one of them screws up, they will not apologize or even acknowledge that it happened. It's your job to fix things, your job to grovel. I swear, that entire household functions on a five year old's emotional level. So once I stopped making an effort, we stopped having a relationship. In fact, we stopped talking. That's how little my stepmom will give - we didn't even have CONVERSATION. And I never even planned on that.

Things were already crappy before then, but after that they were horrid. All of my stepsiblings follow my stepmom around like a mother hen, so if you're not "in" with her, you're not "in" with them. It's so stupid. Since my sister was in school by this time and my brother had already moved out, I was the only one of my father's children in the house. And since I wasn't "in", I didn't really have a family. Since my stepbrother was given his own car and my younger stepsister was too young to drive, I did have a beat up, 20-year-old car to use. Despite the fact that my stepbrother was just handed whatever money he needed, my dad had to sneak me money for what little gas I used (or anything else).

Anyways, enough bitching about my past. Complaining annoys the crap out of me, so I'm sure it's no better to read.

I went home for ten days for "Christmas". I spent six of them at the camp I worked at over summer, and three of them at my best friend's house. My dad and his "family" did absolutely nothing for Christmas and I really didn't feel welcome. Last Christmas, my dad went off into a side room and bitched about me to my grandma and I got 0 gifts. It never even gets close to the true meaning of Christmas, either. It's all materialistic and stupid. I also found out that my dad is helping pay for essentially everything my sister is doing (renting an apartment, going to grad school, etc). She does not have a job. I have never had less than two jobs since I moved up here. My dad told me he "couldn't afford" my school anymore and that I was "going to need to go into the military to afford school".

First of all, are you fucking kidding me? You don't TELL someone to go into the military. That's a huge decision, and despite my attendance of a senior military college, after my best friend died I changed my mind about wanting to be in the military anymore.

Second, he can't afford my undergrad degree, where over half of my tuition is paid for with scholarships alone, but he can afford my sister's GRADUATE SCHOOL? So I don't even get the FUCKING OPTION of finishing my first degree, which she has obviously already done, but she gets covered through grad school? The WORST PART is that she mentioned taking time off like I was FORCED TO because it was too expensive, and he TOLD HER NOT TO.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN MY LIFE. IS MY DAD ACTUALLY FUNCTIONING WITH HALF OF A BRAIN OR IS HE JUST AN INCREDIBLE ASSHOLE? I've held all of these feelings in so that I don't hurt his, but why? He clearly doesn't care about mine. I can't even talk about this anymore because I'll fly off the handle. I need chocolate.

Thanksgiving

This is the second Thanksgiving in a row that I have spent away from home. Surprisingly enough, this year and last have been a lot less awkward than the many I have spent at home.

A lot of people are posting on their Facebooks about all of the things they're thankful for- obvious things; friends, family, and food... But all that's really bothered me this week to be thankful for is my boyfriend, Daniel. I'm actually writing this sitting right next to him, but he has no idea.

This is the second time I've dated Daniel. The first was secretive, short, and kind of immature. The second, however, caught us both completely off guard. I was actually in a relationship when it started (no I didn't cheat). I had spent two months struggling with a dark, binding secret that I just couldn't seem to tell anyone. Best friends, my ex boyfriend (not Daniel) who had been fervently attempting to reconnect with me, and definitely not family. Unfortunately, my boyfriend at the time was the source of the secret. Upon returning to school, I had essentially come to terms with the fact that it would only ever remain with me. But for whatever reason, despite our rough breakup, Daniel made the effort to come visit me the night I arrived at school.

It was the first time we had really spoken since the breakup, but Daniel and I connected again like no time had passed at all. I don't really know what happened that night- maybe it was the connection, maybe it was the way that Daniel had never let me down, or maybe it was the fact that he had been my friend, with or without a relationship. Somehow I managed to sputter the twisted words out of my mouth, choking and tearing up all the while. Regardless, I got it all out.

After that, I knew I had to end my relationship. And as time passed, I knew that I was falling for Daniel all over again. We took it slow, avoiding labels, the public eye, and societal standards. But eventually, we were together again, and nobody was really surprised.

But Daniel and I didn't really have a typical, honeymoon-esque start to our relationship. Just two months after we reconnected, my best friend suddenly died in her sleep. On top of that devastation, a recently-made "BFF" decided to show her horrible, snakelike personality off on the very same day, stopping by my room to let me know she "didn't care" and that I should "be more concerned about her feelings". Yeah, if you heard the story, you wouldn't even believe it. It happened over a year ago for me, And I still find myself trying to work my mind around the horrifically stupid and demonic existence and happenings of my former "BFF".

That night is one that will probably be engrained into my mind forever. Daniel had taken me out to dinner to spend time with me and make me feel better about the whole "BFF" thing (it started before I found out about my friend). He had just dropped me off at my dorm room and walked back to his own when my (other) best friend from home called me.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but Kaitlin died this morning in her sleep."

I wish I could narrate some words for you here, but I didn't have any. I let out something of a wail and managed to inform my roommate and dial Daniel's number in between the shaking sobs taking over my body. I was so hysterical Daniel couldn't even tell what I said- he thought I said my cat had died.

Eventually, he discovered what I was saying, and was back in my room in seconds. I didn't do much talking that night, mostly just hyperventilating and crying enough to provide several hour's worth of ammunition for a large-scale hurricane.

From that day on, Daniel has essentially never left my side. For every day I spent crying about Kaitlin. For every evening I spent ranting about the evils of my former "BFF". For every panic attack about another test I felt ill-prepared for. For every glare, eye roll, and sideways glance. Daniel has been there. For every nightmare I jump awake from, every race I nearly collapse from, and every illness I suffer from, Daniel is by my side. We are often sarcastic and playful with each other, but I took a moment yesterday to remind Daniel how I really feel about him. How we don't spend enough time realizing how lucky we really are to have each other- two people who are somehow simultaneously best friends, siblings, teammates, and significant others. While many others waste their time dating useless, unrelatable losers who end up giving them nothing but a large expanse of lost time, we have been given the gift of each other not once, but twice.

And all that has run through my mind for the past few days is how much I adore all of the little things about Daniel. How he kisses my forehead without precedent. How he swears he loves me no matter what the circumstance. How he'll turn off the TV and ask me if we can just talk for awhile. How we turn off the radio in the car just so we can discuss how we feel about anything and everything. How I sometimes feel like a thirteen year old girl again when we share an inside joke. How even when the rest of the world moved on, Daniel never complained about how hard it has been for me to live in a world without Kaitlin. How when he sees a problem he can change, he doesn't argue about doing it. How he works hard at everything he does- and doesn't falter or slack off when everyone around him does. He has a very blue collar attitude about him, and having been raised in a white collar home, I respect him a great deal for it. And though I may not tell him these things (you have to keep SOME things to yourself, right?), I can't say that if he ever found this and read it, that I'd be upset.

So this Thanksgiving, though I have had many blessings in my life, I'm thankful for Daniel. Because without him, I swear I'd be in the madhouse by now. And he's truly been a gift to me- the only structure left standing in the crazy storm that is my life. So thank You, for always giving me that seemingly small yet monumental gift that I can't forget even when complaining.

Nosy.

So, I'm annoyed. The "house meeting" was about looking at a "contract" that all of the renters had to sign.

In case you didn't know, crappy home life, Dad stopped paying for school, moved by school because it was the only real escape I had. A large part was due to the fact that my boyfriend is still attending school. We're pretty much attached at the hip and do everything together.

So, here's the thing. The "contract" was largely an attack on me. And it irritated me. At first I just felt defensive/attacked (which I didn't voice), but then I got irritated, because I realized: I'm frickin' tired of apologizing for who I am.

Obviously when I came up here, I didn't know anyone and I wasn't there. So it was kind of hard to find a place. Luckily, I knew a woman from my church who rented rooms out to college students. So, naturally, I went there. Unfortunately, I knew from day one it would be an issue. A prior tenant, who I had many classes with the past year, had had horrible experiences living there in the past. I knew I was going to be judged, but I felt I didn't really have any other options at the time and I didn't think it could be anywhere as bad as living at home. For the record, it isn't anywhere as bad as living at home. But a lot of the issues I run into at home, I'm now running into here. For one, my stepmom is incredibly passive aggressive and nosy, and she feels it's appropriate not only to go into my room, but to rearrange things and leave irritatingly condescending notes for me. No. They drive me INSANE. I'm also 21 years old- I don't need reminders to wipe my own butt (they actually get that bad.) So imagine my delight when I'm waking up to obvious post-it notes yet again... home sweet home. Or when I come back to my room and someone has obviously been in it.

What the frick am I paying rent for? I'm being treated as if I'm a child/unpaying tenant as opposed to someone who has been working two jobs to cover everything myself. I'm actually on my own, besides my boyfriend. And the fact that she borrows food from me that she never replaces, eats food she never asked about, and promises repayment I never receive for babysitting her daughter just boils over when I get attacked by a moronic contract.

I rarely even come out of my room... So what am I doing that's so goddamn wrong? I do my own laundry, I pay my own rent, I do my own dishes and others without being asked... I share whatever they might need without question...

So if I want to have my frickin' boyfriend spend the night on the anniversary of my best friend's death, or leave a small energy-saving bulb on because I can't see anything when I come back to my room, or have extra freaking biscuits in the fridge because I used a stupid coupon... Why do I have to feel like a goddamn criminal?

It seems as if no matter where you go, people are expecting you to apologize for who you are. And my answer is no. Because even when you do, people still aren't happy. And they never will be, regardless of how many hoops you jump through. So why deny yourself happiness just so other people can still be unhappy with you?

All I have to say is no.

Stronger.

It kills me how you can just bounce back. It hurts me. I see you act like nothing's wrong, like you're just living life. Like I was never there.

I was there. I was there when you kissed me for the first time. I was there all of the times you pulled me into you and held me tight. I can't pretend that I wasn't. My stomach drops a little every time I have to see another of your updates, full of excitement and happiness. I'm here. You're there. I feel more alone than ever. It hurts my heart to watch this stupid movie, with teenagers taking their time for granted. Loving each other without boundary. While I'm forgotten.

Well I'm leaving too. I'm starting a new life too. I'm going to be faster. Stronger. And better. Because I am and always will be unforgettable. And the fact that you try to deny that only makes you easier to forget.

it's so much more than you and I.

let's face it. I don't mean enough to you.

When I look into your eyes, I see feelings. Feelings you deny, twist, and destroy. Feelings I'm probably not supposed to see.

There was a time that I thought I loved you. Things are different now. That was before you changed to me. What is it that has you so afraid? Your quiet words slip past me, and with every breath I feel another abrasion upon my skin. You fill the silence with empty words, as if you hope I will forget all you have done if you cloud the air with shallow observation.

The thing is, that I am not nobody. Let's just be honest about it. There isn't another me in this world. I am stronger than you could imagine. There will always be another side of me to discover. The fact that I smile that smile you claim to love, is a miracle. There was a time when my smile was much of a rarity. I have every reason to be different. Angry. Upset. Dark. But I'm not. When I share my world with you, it's a big deal. I wish you saw that. You don't appreciate what of me I have opened up to you. You don't appreciate who I am. You don't love me the way you should. And as much as it may have hurt me at one time, now I only wish that you would leave my sight. I have other people to share my world with. People who will appreciate how much it means to be a part of it. I'm sorry that you're not a deep enough person to be who you once were to me. I'm sorry that you think I'm weak. Or that I'm going to miss you. My mind interpreted the situation, my body shut itself off from you, and my heart healed. I will allow no one to make me feel unimportant. Not special. Because I am. I don't need you to tell me so, I need you to know so. And unfortunately, you don't. Fortunately enough, I will say goodbye soon. Or will I? Perhaps you'd be better off left lonely and confused. All I have left to say to you is good riddance.

Incredibad

Does anybody see what America has become? There was a point when America was the underdog. As oppressed citizens, we fought for the freedom we now take for granted. Sitting on the top for so long, Americans became lazy. Quietly, and gradually, other nations took our slumber as a sign to move forward. As other nations progress and and advance in just about everything, America is now known for "stepping into conflicts they have no part in" and being flat out obese. I understand that this is a gross simplification of a vast democratic nation, however, unfortunately, it is still true.

Do Americans truly find pride in their nation? According to my AP Government book, the majority of American citizens don't even understand their government. In fact, they vote without actually knowing what they are voting for far too often. This isn't entirely out of reason, for between the media we don't trust and the politicians we trust even less, how can we know if what we research is even true? And if that is the case, why even research when either way we're receiving slanted information? It is my belief that we just have to decide what the least slanted information is, and utilize it in the search for our own opinion on the matter. If you truly don't trust your government, than become involved in it and CHANGE something. All too often there is an argument set forth regarding the fact that one is simply ONE person, and change is merely unattainable through these means. Should I even address this? That view only furthers America's LAZINESS. Karl Marx was one person. So was Hitler. So were each of the men who participated in the Boston Tea Party. Gandhi. Napoleon. Socrates. Albert Einstein. Thomas Edison. William Shakespeare. Charles Dickens. The list is unending, and although each of these people's actions are viewed from positively horrific to pure genius, the fact is that each is ONE. Abraham Lincoln once said, "The probability that we may fail ought not to deter us from a cause we believe to be just." If you truly believed in something, you would find no issue in supporting it. You're probably saying, I don't KNOW what I believe. That, my friend, is because you're afraid to find out. Too often humans do themselves a great disservice in blocking themselves off from who they truly are. I will show you a prime example.

It is true that in growing up, many young people consider it a great struggle to discover "who they are", for others, the question is not of discovering themselves, but in creating themselves. Either way, people are going in the wrong direction.

High school stereotypes. They are incredible in number, and knowledge of most of them is relatively universal. Many high school students use them as insults, even though they probably adhere to one themselves. When elementary school becomes middle school, people change. Girls who were once friends with each other become so incapable of dealing with each other that they cannot even be left in the same room. Guys distance themselves from each other and find a new "clique". Girls start considering their personal appearance more important, which includes the friends they are surrounded with. Guys start to notice. Upon first glance, this looks like the first step the children have in creating themselves, and for some it is. However, that "some" is very, very few. For the rest of the children, they merely overproject an image they have either seen before or heard of. The emo-goth-scene kids want attention, so they wear bright colors and/or shocking jewelry and makeup. The "popular" kids (which have many facets of stereotype in themselves) want to be "on top" of the social groups- which in most cases means you are rich, beautiful, and have a good knowledge of who/what is also rich and beautiful. Obvious example: Hollister. Hollister clothes really aren't original nor are they of incredible quality, but they burn such a hole in your pocket that wearing Hollister every day will clearly convey that you have a lot of money to spend- money that, if you are a student, probably wasn't yours to begin with. I'm not exactly sure how it started that Hollister was stylish, but since then, it has only heightened price and sickening attempts at "popularity". Then there are the "alternatives". For middle schoolers, this means Tripp pants and Pantera shirts. The general attitude for the younger alternatives is anger at the world for "sucking in general" and dislike of parents. Some people will only experience one of these groups, some will experience all. As high school rolls around, the stereotypes ALMOST disappear as the years go by. However, one should not be fooled, the stereotypes have merely expanded to accomodate a more diverse loss of self. For some reason, the "popular/prettier than you" girls start wearing sweatpants what seems like all the time. I haven't entirely figured this out. Is it because they feel they already cemented their spot on the social pyramid that they stop trying? And if they have stopped trying, why are they still frying themselves in the tanning bed? The emo kids find new ways to express themselves, the "alternatives" just become more... alternative. I haven't had the experience of seeing these "lifestyles" develop in college, but to be quite honest, I'm not really interested to, because in all honesty the best thing for everyone would be for the entire system to just STOP. These stereotypes, combined with the drinking and drug use that from my point of view just seems to get worse every year, only provide an escape. Instead of discovering who we truly are, which does require facing ourselves numerous times, we just project some image that a bunch of other people also decided to project. So in reality, you are just becoming the same person as... a huge amount of other people.

I find this so pathetic that I'm not even insulting the action, I pity the people who partake in it. Where are the parents anymore? Where are the good examples? Where is the motivation? And where is the happiness people used to find in THEMSELVES? I just find it really hard to enjoy people when they don't even enjoy themselves.