urg
02/02/2004 06:36 a.m.
Ack. Today my brain feels dry of poetry. Too bad too. It was the superbowl today. More entertaining than I thought it would be. The half time show was corny. Kid Rock was the best there. I got a black eye today. My parents dropped me off at jordans, then called me back to the car, and as I bent my head to look inside the car my mother opened the door. The corner clipped me nicely in the eye and broke a blood vessel, swelling it nicely. Perfect, the day before school. I sat at Jordan's with an icepack. It was enjoyable though. Went frolfing with him and his dad and this other guy I'd met before.... john? Anyways, it was good. I still suck. I think I'm getting worse rather than better. Oh well, there go my hopes and dreams of being an all-star frolfer I guess. Right out the window. too bad. I wish I could writer poetry right now, but theres nothing. unless I wanted to write out my pissed offed ness at my father. We fought (again) on the way home from Jordans. I don't even know how we get into it anymore. We dont know who starts it. All I know is it's never ever his fault, and always somehow comes around to how I don't give a shit about anything he does. Or so he says. He makes me feel like this terrible kid that doesn't care about anything her father does for her right up until I realize, hey, I'm a pretty fucking great kid compared to the kinds of kids there are out there. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I'm not a druggie. I'm no whore. I'm a straight A student. I was MVP. But it all amounts to the same damn thing. I could spiral back into not feeling good enough for him.... permanently, not temporarily the way it always goes when we fight. That's just the thing. I try really hard to please him. I left Jordans 5 minutes early when I could have left him sitting in the driveway for a while. Instead of that amounting to anything, I end up in tears by the time I get home because we've been screaming at eachother in the car, and not for the first time. It tends to happen on the way back from Jordans. Not that it has anything to do with Jordan at all, it's just at that time we're alone, it's quiet, it's dark, and I guess thoughts just brew. Either way, I got home in tears. My mother tended to my purple eyes and didn't acknowledge the tears until we were alone in the bathroom, which I thank her for. I guess she knows the way dad can be. He never hits me but sometimes I wish he would just so I'd have a better reason to end up in tears when we pull in the driveway. That way when mom said "Why are you crying" I could say "Dad hit me" and it'd mean something. I know that's wrong, and people in that situation reading this probably WANT to hit me. Instead the only thing that comes to mind when she asks is "Dad pointed out everything I don't do for him, everything I'm not, everything I guess he wishes I could be. Dad pointed out just how much all of me doing my best is worth. Not enough." And that doesn't seem like enough to cry over. It always feels like not enough. I give my all and they ask why there is no more. I try to balance everything, school, soccer, friends, a boyfriend, family, time for myself and no matter how I try to balance it feels like I topple one thing or another every way. If one thing is going stellar, another is always suffering. I'm trying to keep getting As, keep saving goals, keep a good relationship with my friends and my boyfriend, keep my family pleased and keep myself sane. Usually it's my sanity I let slack... If it weren't for the recooperating my friends and Jordan offer I'd probably burn right out. You guys keep me going. Sometimes there's just this enormous feeling of fatigue, wanting to let go of everything. It feels like pressure, pressure, pressure.... everywhere I look until it's like I'm not even here. My tired robotbody goes throught the motions and I'm dead somewhere until my head feels like it can cope again. The world goes under, and instead of putting it on the outside for people to see I cram it all in and act like it's nothing. I guess that's the difference. Some people take their swings and cut things with them. Friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, school... me, I take it in and nullify it on the inside until i can breathe again. It's like letting the pressure crush you and slowly building back up. Like letting the undertow get you... It's weird... I know I'll feel better after some sleep. I know in the morning I won't feel like another burnout is on the way. This'll just be a bad mood and I'll be fine. I might even be fine at the end of writing this. You all know how writing soothes you.First day of new classes tomorrow... I need to clean out my binders... I need sleep.