Um… Here is hoping…

The hoping is that, if I try writing my thoughts out, something that I realized earlier today will come back to me. The eureka syndrome, I recollect, was brought about by my entry before the last one. Just in this past month, I’ve vaguely noticed things. Not dwelling, but making a faint note of old things I did in my past that are rearing their ugly heads.
Um… Things like the thought of cutting on Tuesday, thoughts about life and death (which had not happened for a long time), and then the final notice… I noticed I was venting in my journal. Not the simple vents, but the kind I did back when younger. The kind that I often cursed in and struggled to keep calm.
I saw an old thing surface in it. I was griping. I was showing agitation over doing things and not adding up to things I did to satisfy others. That threw me for a loop today. The thought came when I was vacuuming of all things, too.
I mean… Damn.
Also, just a while ago, talking with Kyle, I noticed an old line of thought I used to have come out. He was talking about his college days and how it never ends. I thought of that all the time in school and knew that college would be the same, and had the feeling life after college would have the same effect on me later on.
I see things at a limited view, I suppose. Bitch about school, get out. Bitch about college, get out. Bitch about work, get out. Then there is the question of if you’ll bitch about death when you are dead… Heh. I’m odd.
I guess I did remember. Yay for writing.

Anyway, this stuff makes me remember back when my mom and perhaps others constantly asked me what I wanted. I questioned that for a while. A thought was, “Have them leave me alone.” Then I wondered to what extent and what I particularly meant by alone. I thought, afterall, I’m the one doing this stuff willingly. If that is so, do I want such things I’m doing subconsciously? I thought, “Not really.”
As usual, I don’t care for the stuff, I’m just doing the rational thing. If that is the case, why am I doing it if I don’t care about it to begin with? I considered. It is not that I care about doing the necessary thing. It is that I care about doing what my family wants. Then does that mean my ultimate want is to please my family? I guess so.
Why do I get angry/frustrated/whatever? I figured… it is probably because I feel I cannot do anything right or they just cannot make up their minds on what they want from me. Likely, it could be both. I guess I know what I want then. I want them to leave me alone in terms of not constantly looking for…
Well, they say they want me to be happy. They want me to have a passion for once. I guess they want me to “enjoy” life. What I wonder is, what if what I was doing before was enjoying life? Afterall, I was not thinking about if my life mattered at and all decided it ultimately did not before all of this. I never had a thought of cutting before this. I did not get frustrated by not being able to conform.
I admit, I lacked in being passionate and I never said “I feel happy today.” Still, I was not leery of telling my mother things. I did not suddenly want to avoid things and stay in my room. I did not constantly feel pushed for time. Basically, I was at peace… and ultimately, I find peacefulness to be enjoyable. It makes me content, and though I am not saying happy, I think that is happiness for me. Sure, I’m not all energetic and passionate, but does that ultimately have to mean happiness and living?
Oh well. I’m sorry I am such a fuck-up.

How annoying…

Sigh… Things are getting tiresome again. Then again, I am doing things for practical, rational reasons rather than for what I’d rather. You must do that in life. My mom is worried though. Why? Well, I’ve been pulling my hair out. For a while I’ve been wondering about life and death and what the whole point of living is… blah… blah… What does life matter? Do I care if I die? Not really… blah… blah.
Then today I considered whether to tell her about wanting to cut again. Normally I wouldn’t. Why? Because I think not a damn thing will come from such thoughts, and if something does, I likely won’t care. I told her though. Why? – because of obligation. She would want to know. That, and I figure it would take some explaining if I do end up losing control and do something. Might as well give her the precaution she’d rather have. Peh.

She wonders if I should cut down on my volunteering or eventually just stop. I tell her that it is not necessary. She is torn because, well, my things acted up again not long after I started. I tell her, do I like the job? I don’t think so, but I don’t HATE it. Thus, I don’t mind doing it. It is like school to me again, just not all of the stress: Struggle to get up, go, do work, leave, struggle to stay awake for the rest of the day and then go to sleep if able to. For some reason they (my mom and the therapist) hope that I’ll find something that gives me a feeling of accomplishment, enjoyment or something. I more or less look at them blankly.
Again, I don’t really care. I’m not the sort who aspires for things. I doubt I ever have been. I don’t have goals. I’m sorry that troubles them, but I’m just dandy with that. I guess they are worried that I have no strive for life. I guess I don’t, but just because I don’t, it does not mean I lack the will to live. I merely lack in seeing the point… hum… maybe I just now proved something in regards to what they are worried about.

Then again, I am merely thinking that is what they believe merely due to observation. I could be wrong.
I will say this, from observations on what I have noticed in my “mood” is that I am now wishing to just hide out in my room more. I don’t want to leave my room to watch television shows with my mother anymore, but go merely because I’d hate to stop watching them. Does that sound contradictory? Yes. I like the shows, but I simply do not wish to “waste” time on them. What sort of time am I letting it waste then? Things most people would consider wasting time.
What is that then? It is reading, writing, researching, listening to music, getting things that I wish to get done and yet no longer have the time to. Basically, it is what I consider alone time. I’m a loner. I need little interaction. I’d like it better if I did not have to deal with the people at my “job”.
I could be just fine scanning in the books and putting them up alone. I could do that nonstop. It preoccupies my head and that is all I need in terms of functioning at a job. The problem is, I need some people skills or something. I need experience. Do I give a damn? Not particularly, but obviously some since I have considered it intellectually.

As mentioned, my mom questions if I should cut down on my days. I argue. Why? I would not mind, but “moral” wise, I am against it. I obviously do a great deal in there. To suddenly cut down would be unfair to the lady I help. It would be like a worker suddenly telling the employer he or she is quitting without a notice before hand – or at least, that is my take. That goes along with the whole dropping the job if it just does not work. I started. I will continue unless something drastic happens that knocks me upside the head. I am a person of obligation.
Shouldn’t the sudden apathy about life, the hair pulling, frustration, annoyance and consideration of cutting be drastic signs? For me it is not. For my mom it is yes. I am pretty indifferent about most things. The hair pulling feels good. The frustration and annoyance is a bother, but it is tolerating… everyone feels that stuff. The cutting is just considered for now. It is not like I intend to kill myself. I just want to break the skin.
Ah… and the whole cutting thing… it occurred while at “work”. I had an impulse. I was rational enough not to. One, I did not have scissors or a knife of my own. Two, I would not use the scissors on the desk – I think that would be disrespectful. Three, it is an elementary school – can’t do that with little kids around. I had considered about doing it at home, but was a bit against it because my mom would notice eventually. The other reason was that I was too bloody tired to really think of such when I was home.
Sigh. Well, that is the update pretty much. The point of writing this… is just to get out something. I mean, what do they want from me? Jeez… I’m fine, or I was fine. Either way, I am not going all suicidal on them and I am trying to work my way into being able to live like one of the “normal” people. I am trying to go out into the world and all of that shit. They are worried for me. Well I am trying, damn it! Now they are worried for me in a different way. Jeez… I’m sorry that both sides of the coin are not dandy for you, but I am just this way.
Huh…
Ah… right. This is why I am writing this. I am getting frustrated about doing things for them and just fucking it up or something. Yeah, rationally I am making it a bigger deal and perhaps my mind is presenting it in a twisted form. Well, I cannot change that. It is just… damn annoying.
I try, but… damn it… No matter what I do… Jeez…
I’m getting off. I’m venting now. Hah…

Life is… stupid… I think…

I’m tired, it is hot and I cannot fall asleep. My dad came down on Friday. Saturday my mother came home not long after my dad and I got groceries. She was crying. Her dog, Shawnie, might have cancer. If he does, he will not last much longer. He will likely be put down if the results are positive.
I’m rather numb on the whole thing. I don’t really bond with dogs. I mainly felt for my mom. When my father and brother talked about the idea of what to do about getting a new dog, however, I told them that Shawnie was not dead yet and they should not be talking about such.
Sigh.
At “work” I still get morning headaches. The whole job makes me feel misplaced and isolated. That is to be expected though. The school is for those under puberty. Sometimes I cannot understand what they say. Some ask questions I cannot answer. Some just irk me some. They are okay… but… Meh.
The teachers are mainly mothers and any other volunteer is a parent. They talk about their kids and identify each other by said kid. They speak of such, and while intellectually, I understand, but practicality in me says things a parent would consider wrong. I feel more uncofortable with them than the kids.
Other than that, I do my job and then go home at 1:30. Sleep is still an irritation. Yeah, I am sleeping at night, manage to function well enough at the “job” and get home safely… but… Damn…
Sigh.
That is life. Go along with it, deal, and go to bed. Complain, sigh, and then hide off to recuperate. Bah.
My head hurts.

*Mondays suck…

I did not go in on *Monday due to being bedridden for the day. When my dentisit appointment rolled around, I went, but was miserable. It seems my teeth are undergoing erosion. The reason is likely due to the amount of soda I drink. Cut back on the soda then? I do not drink that much, just about two to three a day. That is not much compared to some people I know. Still the acid is effecting my teeth horrendously.
Tuesday, I went to my “job” as usual. It felt clammy, sick and what-not during the morning, but it calmed down later on. I was rather irritable… thus when a lady was being cheerful I was thinking, “Get the hell away from me.” I’m sure there were subconscious things as well… they were likely far more vile, though.
Wednesday, today, was all fine. I was in better shape and actually slept rather decently the night before, which is a rarity lately. I walked home as usual, did some chores, ate something finally and ended up crashing around three. I awoke again at five when my mother peeped her head into my room.
Anyway… tomorrow is my day off, thus I will mainly do chores and dusting. There is something scheduled tomorrow for 2 o’clock… something about my social security. Anything else? Nah.

Um…

I’ve gone a whole week for volunteering. A schedule has been made up. All school days, minus Thursday, I go from 8-1:30. Do I like it? I don’t know. Do I hate it? No. I guess it will continue onwards. I’ve managed to wake up and stay up each day there. I seem to get headaches around 9 though. I wonder if that will continue to be consistent? Well, when the day is over I then walk home.
I would usually stay up for a short time, maybe get some food in me and then crash. I’d sleep until around four or five and then continue on the day until I deemed it time to try to sleep again. It is annoying. I finally had been able to get decent sleep after so many years and now it is back to square one.
This weekend I crashed. I mean I CRASHED. I slept all day yesterday. I slept last night. I got up slightly less than an hour ago. Rather reminds me of my middle school days. Oh, well. It is frustrating though.
Well… anyway…
Tomorrow I will be seeing the denist. I think something is happening on the 20th, but I am not certain. Perhaps I am wrong on that.
I have nothing else that comes to mind.

Sigh…

I went, I did, and I left. I walked home, was parched, guzzled two sodas and crashed. I got up four hours later and saw the therapist. How was my day? I survived.
I would have thought I would have written more, since it is my first volunteer day. No. No, I am not in the mood. Do I like it? Well, I do not hate it. Might I come to like it once I get settled? Here is hoping. So I will be going back? Sadly, yes. That does not sound too hopeful. Of course not.
I hope it gets better.

Well, wow…

I just got back from a small meeting. I was roused by slumber by my father. He told me I was to have a meeting with the school I had considered volunteering at. Simply put, I was surprised. It was out of the blue, after all. Me being me, I easily got ready in just some few minutes and waited slightly less than half an hour for my mom to come along.
The case was that my mother never had time to call them back on the volunteer thing until today. She called and they set up a meeting. Therefore, this was just as surprising for my mom likely.
She came, we left and entered into a very crowded parking lot. School was let out or something. We were led to the library. I met the librarian. We talked some, she told us what she did, mentioned things I recollected doing as a child, and introduced us to some of her family members who were students of the facility.
Things went well, we believe. I’ll be starting on Monday morning. The schedule decided on by my mother and I is to go all the times there is openings. One day is covered completely, therefore I will skip that day. I will be taking half of Monday during the morning half, all of Tuesday and Wednesday and the morning half of Friday if all things work out. If this does work, maybe I’ll be able to keep a “forced” sleep schedule. Scary.
Anyway, I am still somewhat out of it. As said, my father woke me from a nap. It was around 2:30, I believe. I had gone to sleep a few hours earlier. Before that I had been up since nine the previous night after recieving three hours of sleep due to taking a nap starting at six. Therefore, I am still trying to “wake up” or something.
Things that have gone on this week… my Father arrived here on Saturday. On Labor Day, my relatives came over. We ate dinner together and my sister dragged me off with her to look at furnishings. She bought some things from Pier 1 Imports. We came back home and I ended up crashing. By the time I woke everyone had left. The rest of the week is a blur more or less.
Other things… My father will likely be leaving this Sunday. As said, I’ll start my first day as a volunteer here. I will later see Cindy in the afternoon. On Monday the 18th I had a dental appointment. If there is anything else I need to jot down as a rweminder, I cannot think of it.