forsomeone

This is really just a general update about things because lately I have failed at writing in here. I haven’t really been in the mood to blog, which isn’t good because I used to love blogging. So, I’m going to start it back up again and I’m going to try my hardest to start catching you all up on my life. Not much has been going on, so it shouldn’t take too long, but I need to do it anyway.
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We are coming up on what I consider the “bad month”. I’m not breaking down in tears, nor am I go into fits of rage, but I feel… I feel numb basically. I want to cry because I know it would help, but I can’t, and the other part of me wishes to just scream. Only problem is, I really don’t even have the energy for that.

On August 6th of last year, my parents called me downstairs and my mom smiled at me as they told me they were going to get a separation. Twenty minutes later, my things were packed and I was walking down the road. There are things that I remember quite clearly from that day and the month that followed, and then there are big gaps where I don’t remember a thing. As I’m sitting in my bed though, I’ve come to the realization, that I haven’t actually talked about it in one sitting. Tahni knows the story, mostly because she sat with me for days, but I haven’t written it out which is odd for me since I write everything out. So, that is the task for now. The results will hopefully be a clearer mind and maybe some sort of emotion.

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So I was thinking about some things during work today and was trying to figure out what has really kept me going these past couple of months. What were the things that always could make me feel better without fail while I was going through all these changes and all these fights. It came down to a few things. The Beatles, Writing, and Queer As Folk.

Sooo... years from now, when my children ask me how I handled the divorce, what the heck am I supposed to tell them? I got through it by listening to songs that were written while on acid, by writing about disfunctional relationships and men who used the word fuck every chance they got, and by watching gay men on tv go at each other. That was my therapy.

Note to future self. Never share this with you children.

Dad is coming over here in less than twenty minutes to come and take me out to a movie and I can't help but dread this little get together despite the fact that I miss him. I just keep hitting this proverbial wall when it comes to the situation. I just want to scream and cry and ask my parents what the fuck they are doing but I know I can't. I'm trying not to break down at the thought of having to talk to dad at dinner and tell him about all the little things that he usually would know but has missed out on these past four weeks. Yes, it has been about four weeks since I've seen my father and he only lives fifteen minutes away. I just... I'm worried that I wont be able to stay strong tonight when he asks how school is going, how life is. What am I supposed to tell him? School is uninspiring, I'm lonley in life, and I'm entering the anger faze towards him and mom? I can't tell my father that. Granted, it may feel damn good at the moment to tell him exactly what I think of him and mom and how they're handeling all this, and tell him how much of a coward I feel he is at times, but I know in my heart that five minutes after I say it, I'll feel guiltier than all hell and in reality, will only make the situation so much worse for myself.

I just want to know, how I'm supposed to get through the night?

I was in the kitchen heating up some tea for myself when it hit me. This divorce has offered me a new found sense of freedom. I mean, I have a fucking bedroom door for crying out loud!!!! :) At my old home, I had what I used to call the loft area. It was wide open with no doorway at all, just stairs that went downwards and lead into the living room. When we first moved there, I thought to myself that this was perfect and opted for the loft that was right next to my parents bedroom (they at least had a door. Thank God) instead of the small little room downstairs that would eventually become our office. I thought that the loft would be perfect, sort of artsy. Artsy though soon went out the window as I discovered that I could not even paint my bedroom walls, but that I also had little to no privacy and was victim to hearing people tramps up and down the stairs when ever they felt like it, passing my room and getting to see whatever it was I was doing. I couldn’t even go up there to live in peace. But I took it because I wanted the space… that and I have a lot of crap. :) After four years of it, I didn’t even bat an eye. But now… oh, now I have a door and it’s one that I can shut and lock if I feel like it. That, and I have taken the artistic side of me and embraced it fully. My room is now painted to my liking. My back wall is a deep purple, one of my side walls is olive green with blue, orange and light blues squares scattered across it, and my last wall is a blue with a huge red peace sign right in the middle. :) It’s is amazing! LOL. I feel like me in here. It is my taste and no one can say anything about it because if they don’t want to look at it, they can shut the door. To make it better, I have my fourth wall just a complete closet area. Now, the doors are an eyesore, yes, but I have a plan. In a few weeks when I get paid, I plan to go out and buy ty dye fabric in order to pin them to the panels of my sliding doors. It will be fantastical and you all know it. LOL.

I am still loneley, but I’ve come to realize that maybe that’s okay. I’m going to school to further my education and I’m doing that. I have people I talk to there also, so it’s not like I’m completely alone. Besides, I always know there are friends I can fall back on when I need them. The city though is a great comfort to tell you the truth. I do miss the country side but today when I got home from school I just went walking. I didn’t end up going anywhere special, but to just walk and see the different sights instead of cows cows and more cows was something amazing all on its own. I even got caught in a down pour and came home soaked to the bone but smiling bigger then I had in a long while. I believe that the rain simply washes away all of your bad karma so it was therapeutic for me.

The only downside of all of this is that I miss my dad. I hate to think of him in that big house all by himself. It’s hurts every time I do think of it. I also hate playign the divorced child and having to call up dad when I want to see him. Luckily though, this is keeping dad and I from fighting (he never really did agree with the things I said or did. I think he just didn’t understand). So, if we’re not fighting, then maybeour relationship will be strenghtend? I don’t know. Only time will tell. I worry for my mom too. I worry about how lonely she is and I’m starting to wonder if she felt like this all throughout the last years of her marriage. But those thoughts are a little to scary for me right now while all of this is still fresh and raw.

Things though seem to be getting better. No, they are not perfect, but who has a perfect life anyway? It’s our harships that build character. So, as the person that I am, I am going to take this in and use it in whatever shape of art it calls to be. Whether that be a painting, or a story, or a theatrical part, I don’t know yet. But, I think we feel these things for a reason. If we walk through life numb, I think we’re missing out on the beauty of everything else around us.

I’m sitting in the middle of a living room that is not familiar to me, my tv that has now become the families is blaring Ghost Hunters in the background, and the makeshift mattress that I have made to sleep on is right behind me since the cable wire to my internet doesn’t reach all the way to it. I guess I could pull it over to me but honestly I’m exhausted and don’t really want to move.

I’ve been living in my new “home” now since Saturday. During the weekend, it wasn’t so bad. I had Tahni with me and we began to paint my room and then we watched the last season of Queer As Folk. To say that I bawled during those episodes is probably an understatement. But, if you think about it, the night I started this whole series was the night that mom and dad told me they were divorcing. Then, when I ended it, it turned out to be the turning point in my life that I moved out. Poetic irony I guess.

It is lonely here though. I can’t ever remember being this lonely in my whole life. Mom is still living back at the house and her and dad keep telling me that I can come home, but I just can’t do it. I can’t face it. So instead I’m living in an apartment without even my things. All of my books and knickknacks, the things that are what I consider to be home, are all packed up in boxes, while my bed and furniture remain at the house. So instead I’m sleeping on an air mattress in the living room, one that deflates completely in two hours. Needless to say, my body is a mass of aches and bruises. I haven’t been sleeping well because of it too. I’m uncomfortable, and then in the middle of the night I wake up and don’t know where I am and it scares me. I ended up skipping classes today because I was so exhausted. I slept for thirteen hours straight.

Dad calls me every night, and at times it makes me feel good, but sure enough, every time I get off the phone with him, I cry. He’s lonely also I think and just the fact that I don’t get to see him every day is hurting in ways that I didn’t think was possible. And while I can’t make it through a day without breaking down and crying, I know that me crying is probably a good thing. I just want to feel like I’m living in a home again though. I want something in my life to make me smile and make me happy. Right now though all I seem to have going for me is work. I love that place and never want to leave when I go there on Saturdays.

It’s just hard. I’m sure anyone that’s ever gone through a divorce knows this. I just hate sitting here in this apartment knowing that I can never return home. And I know that everyone says that home is where the heart is but I’m sorry, my heart is not here. It won’t be for a long while I suspect. It’s times like this that I really wish that I had a boyfriend in life. Everything is so new right now, I have school, I have a new place, and I have to make time for my father now. I just wish I had someone in my life who I loved and who loved me back, and someone that I could lean on. Because right now, I feel so cut off from the rest of the world. I feel like everything that is happening isn’t touching me and no matter what I do, nothing seems to make me feel better except for that old familiarity of sitting on the sofa with my friends and watching TV. Maybe that’s why I was okay this weekend when Tahni and I were watching Queer As Folk (even though those last few episodes played with my emotions more then I’ll admit in the future. LOL). In fact, maybe I’ll turn that on right now, relive the good days of Brian and Justin’s relationship. The show at least allows me for a while to slip away from it all.

I know that I’m meant to be here. I understand that. And oddly enough, it was me listening to the Beatles that made me realize that. I was washing the dishes yesterday, listening to my favorite John songs since it was his birthday, when All You Need Is Love came on. The line “There isn’t nowhere you can be that isn’t where your meant to be” made me stop what I was doing and just stand there for a minute. I’m meant to be here. I may not like it at the moment, but it’s for the better. Yes, things suck right now. I can’t morph into the Pollyanna philosophy and say that everything is good, but I can recognize the fact that maybe if I had stayed put where I am, worse things could have happened. Every major event in life happens for a reason and I have to believe that this whole ordeal was to prevent something so much worse. That’s what I’m going to cling on to for the moment.

I think it’s a law or something that if I’m having a good day, someone, somewhere, has to find a way to bring me down. I slept most of today away since I’m still tired from my trip, and I managed to feel relaxed all day. Now, my end of my vacation was good and bad at the same time. Good because I went on a shopping spree, bad because my grandma kept hinting that my mom and Ross would be good together (not to mention the numerous amounts of e-mails that got send back and forth between Travis and I. Yeah. That was fun). But then I got home and I figured that things would be better. But dad just came in here and told me that he can only take three cats to his new house, meaning I have to choose on which pet I want to get rid of. I don’t want to get rid of any of them. I can’t choose which animal to send away. I mean, what the fuck? They all sleep with me. They were presents to me from my parents at one point in time and I was already having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that they’d have to all live with my dad since mom and I are moving into an apartment, but now I have to get rid of one? That’s not fair. You can’t ask me to get rid of my animals. The thing is, they’re only asking me to get rid of one of mine. Dad’s cat isn’t up for question and neither is moms. It’s my animals that they go to directly and so that leaves me with basically having to get rid of Nermy, the cat that I got and bottle fed when it was little because my other cat got hit by a car. I spent night after night with this cat and now they want me to get rid of it. I just don’t understand why this has to happen along with everything else. Why can’t my parents just get the fucking divorce, move out and leave everything else alone?

Then, now to top it off, one of my dearest freinds in the whole world is mad at me because I sided with her mom on something instead of her. That somehow translates into me just being mad at her because I dont' like her boyfriend. The real reason why she's made at me? Because of decisions I've made in the past few weeks. (Only two of you will get what I'm saying there). What I did goes against her religious beleifs (her boyfriends a minister so I'm sure that doesn't help) and therefor I think she's kind of wanting to distance herself from me. Which I'm not sure how I can deal with this. There's not many friends of mine that I do talk to. Lisa was one of the very few. And now she's pulling out on me? Plus, how am I supposed to talk to her when she gets mad at me and then doesn't want to be friends when I tell her my problems. She can be mad at me. I probably deserve that and so much more. But it was my choice, it was my mistake, and in the end, it doens't affect her life. So why should she be angry at me and not want to be friends based on a mistake that doesn't involve her?

Sometimes, I just wonder why I even bother getting out of bed anymore.

California is… I don’t know. One minute I’m having fun and laughing, the next I’m irritated, and then I’m ready to burst into tears. I’m not sure what to think of this whole entire ordeal.

Before we got on the plane, mom told dad that she loved him and that kind of set the whole mood for the vacation it seemed. I know they’re going to get a divorce but hearing mom talk about it all the time with grandma, saying “when Dana and I move into the apartment…” or showing me something in a magazine and telling us we should get it for the apartment… I’m trying to be mature and I’m trying to be agreeable with mom, telling her that something is nice when she points it out or something, but I just want to cry so bad. I was out by the pool today and I just started tearing up as I was listening to Beatles because Hey Jude came on. I’ve been trying to avoid that song like the plague because of the story behind it, but when it came on, I couldn’t bring myself to change it and it just got to me today. I know I can’t let my parents lives to affect mine but I don’t know how to separate these feelings. I can’t seem to get my emotions over everything that is going on to just disappear and I can’t seem to even accept them. I don’t want to cry so I’m trying not to but I don’t know if that’s good or not. And while ignoring seems to be the best thing for me to do at times, at other times I can’t help but believe that it is the most unhealthy thing for me to do as well.

Times used to be simple you know. There was a time that I wasn’t having to deal with picking out new furniture for the apartment and pretending to mom that I’m okay with it all finally, that I’ve gotten past my angry stage and am now simply accepting. I have to do this. I can’t be the immature adolescent. I’m not thirteen anymore. It’s time for me to grow up. Besides, getting upset solves nothing for me. I know everyone always says that crying helps things but it doesn’t ever seem to for me. All it seems to accomplish is making me sick and making me feel like such a little kid all over again.

Okay, on to better things.

Mom and I went out to antique shops today and I bought an old coffee add from the fifties so I can hang it over the coffee machine at home, two old Beatle prints that I plan to get framed, and two new records. One of John’s and one of Paul’s. I made a plan today though. When I finally get a place of my own I plan to make a music/library room. On the walls will be all of my Beatles prints and painting, along with the old records that I refuse to play. Then, I’ll have all of my bookshelves with all my old classics on it. One bookcase will simply be filled with my “mind candy” books, basically the romance novels by Nicholas Sparks and my ghost stories that I love to read. Then, the other one will be filled with my beat poets, Keroac and Ginsberg where they will sit along side Chaucers Canterbury Tales and my all time favorite book… Wrinkle In Time. :) It’s right up there along with the greats in my opinion.

I can’t wait to get a place of my own to decorate how I see fit. It’s going to be full of color and music and even though it’ll probably be old and run down it will still be a home. That’s the most important thing to me now that mom and dad are getting divorced. I want to build a home. As I get older, my priorities in life seem to be changing, and that is starting to move up to the top of the list now that I don’t have one of my own.

Not much has been going on in my life although it seems like I haven’t gotten a chance to breathe since Monday.
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I am once more back to the wonderful world of minimum wage! Yay! Today I got a small job at a flower shop running the cashier, arranging flowers, and cleaning out buckets. It’s not that big. It’ll be every Saturday from 9-6 and a few pick up hours here and there on the weekdays, but it is enough to give me about $150 a month which will be a nice little amount of both play money and something that can go into my savings for England. The great part about it is that it doesn’t interfere with school at all and I’m guaranteed my Sundays always off. This is a huge deal to me because at Gatehouse I was going to school all week and then having to deal with the horrors of working all weekend. Plus, my new boss seems really nice. She was very understanding that I’m a student and said that if I needed time off just to come and talk to her. This is looking up to be so much better than Gatehouse. Yes, the hours are a bit longer a day, but that’s okay. It’s only one day a week. I start though on Thursday to get my training in but I think this will still be good.

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So as I sit here, holding my stuffed animal turtle that I have named Paulie, I’m reflecting on my day and trying to figure something out.


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So as I sit here on yet another late and restless night, my new cat curled at the edge of my bed, I think of what I’ve been through this past week. As with any trial in my life I have receive the inevitable standards from friends and family, all of them asking the questions they’re supposed to and giving off the due amount of grief you are meant to feel in a situation such as this. “Are you okay?” “How are you holding up?” “Is there anything I can do?” And I find that I always give off a mixture of the same responses. “Yes” “Fine” and “No, but thanks anyway.” And what conclusion have I reached after all of this?

I’m not okay.

I’ve accepted this, I’ve embraced it, and next should be the part where I say that I’ve moved on as well. Only… I can’t. Mom and dad aren’t making it any easier to do so either as they sit and act nicer towards each other now than they have all year. They watch movies together, they go out shopping with one another, and they actually laugh and joke around. I didn’t know that getting a divorce meant that you rekindled a friendship. It’s not like I’m about to point this out to them though because just because I’m miserable, doesn’t mean they have to be.

Now I am trying not to be the bitter cynic that usually comes out to play in these kinds of situations but it’s getting harder and harder to day after day. Have I mentioned anything to my parents yet? No. Frankly, my thoughts and feelings on this matter were stated long ago and I feel like announcing them to them once more would be something more akin to beating a dead horse over the head with a stick. And since I’m against abuse to animals, I think I’ll keep my feelings out of mind and out of sight, at least for my parents. And even though a week has went by and the talks of getting an apartment in town and leaving a house that I have just recently come to consider my home are becoming more frequent, I still can’t grasp it. I still can’t believe that this is over and I still can’t believe that I’m going to have to readjust to a life that I in no way want. Am I being a bitter teen chalked full of that oh so wonderful emotional angst? Yeah. Probably. I’m not even going to deny it. But hey, as long as I’m not sitting back writing angst filled poetry and wearing black twenty four seven I’d say that I’ve set myself a part from most depressed teens who think the only thing worth living for is the pain.

I want my parents to be happy. I just wish that their happiness didn’t have to be a part. I also wish some what begrudgingly, that my happiness didn’t seem to rely so heavily on theirs. I’m trying not to let this get to me, trying to look for the good in it all, but I can’t seem to find it just yet. I’m about to be shoved into an apartment with my mother who I have less than fuzzy feelings for at the moment and then forced to split up my animals where even though dad says I’ll see them all the time when I come and visit, I can’t help but think its an empty promise. Because we all know that once school starts and I get a new job, going out in the country to visit my father is going to be one of the last things to do on my list unfortunately. That’s not even me being angry. That’s just the way life works. And while I’m trying to be nice to them, trying to put on a brave face so I can hopefully make things a little bit easier for them, I’m still screaming. I didn’t even think I was going to be able to make it through dinner the other night, watching them joke around, without bursting into tears. Luckily I managed to save them until we got back home and I could retreat into the safety of my own bed which I probably won’t even get to keep come October.

So as I in vain try to enjoy life, I find that with it comes a price. In order to make it through the day as of late, it has consisted of barely eating so as I won’t throw up, and sleeping half of the day away so I don’t have to see my parents false pretences more than necessary. The thought only becomes now, how deep am I willing to let myself get before I finally admit that this is all happening and there is nothing I can do to stop it?

My parents just told me about thirty minutes ago that they're divorcing. I'm not going to be home for a while

I know you can love and hate your parents at the same time but right now having those feelings just confuses me and I wish my heart would just simply pick one feeling or the other. Now, I’ve been having a good summer, a great one in fact. When your eighteen years old, have just graduated from high school, and you’re spending almost every single day with your friends, how can you not? But I guess with any sort of happiness, also comes the inevitable let down.

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