Third Story - Not So Wise After All

Alright, so I ended up procrastinating about this blog entry - AGAIN.
I had meant to write some stuff down on Wednesday night, or Thursday during the day, but in all honesty, I had just gotten my wisdom teeth surgery done and I was in a LOT of pain, and mostly drugged up from my very strong pain medicine, so I ended up just sorta acting like a zombie the entire time, and didn't even finish packing for my trip until after my friends were already there to pick me up. I made them wait and felt super bad and what-not, but man... I simply cannot put into words what I felt when I saw them... really THERE.

In any case, it's already Sunday night (technically Monday morning, since it's past midnight, but in all honesty I get annoyed at that - it's not the next day until I sleep and wake up, damn it!), and I guess I've forgotten some details because so many days have passed, but I'll still try to re-tell what's happened since then.
(Btw, did you guys like the little "filler" poem I posted on wednesday? Hahaha. A friend of mines from the DAP forum wrote it, I believe, and posted it for us, and I loved it so much that I asked if I could re-post it here. I did it right before leaving the house to get my surgery done, btw.)

Alright, so... surgery didn't work on Monday, I have absolutely NO memory of what I did Tuesday - possibly because it was nothing at all aside from sitting on the computer and wasting my life away - and Wednesday came...
I woke up a bit later than what I had originally planned, about ten or fifteen minutes before 11am, but when I got up I only found Carlos, my sister's boyfriend, in her room. Upon asking where she was at, he said she had literally just walked out the door to go to work. I panicked a bit, cuz I was like... "Wait... she was supposed to take me to the dentist today. She told me she had the day off, too... wth?", to which Carlos shrugged and said he didn't know anything about that, just that she had left for work. I was like, "Great...", tried calling her, but she didn't pick up because she was probably already working, so I was already starting to panic, cuz I ONLY had that day to get the surgery done... but thankfully Carlos was nice enough to offer to take me.
I had already started to get frustrated and a bit angry at the fact that my sister would do that to me - I mean, she had the day off, I saw it on her schedule, I made sure... I checked with her Sunday night, which is when she gets her schedule changed every week. And after the whole Monday debacle, she DID tell me to re-schedule for Wednesday. Then all of a sudden she got work (I never even bothered to ask her about this), and she didn't even bother to let me know she wouldn't be able to take me. I mean, it's already bad enough that she didn't take my surgery seriously enough, but on top of that she didn't even care to give me any satisfaction. I mean, wth.
It bothered me, but by that point I was already so fed up with all of that, I didn't wanna have any more frustration, so when Carlos offered to take me, I just got the matter out of my head and simply forgot about it. Hey, wtf, as long as I was getting it done, I didn't give a damn how I was getting there.

In any case, I took my shower, got ready, went to the clinic at around 3pm, paid in advance (figured I probably wouldn't be in a stable enough condition to get it done afterwards), and had my phone out the entire time until we got started...
I'm not gonna get into many details about the process, just that I didn't get morphine, only local anesthesia, so I was awake throughout the whole thing... and I *hate* needles... and that I ended up making a fool of myself in that clinic and screamed quite a lot... but it was mostly cuz I was scared to death about the whole thing. -_-; Can't help some things.
Other than that, he worked pretty quickly. My entire jaw and lower lip were completely numb and I couldn't feel them at all, it was pretty uncomfortable. My lips got really dry and were bleeding for some reason, I'm thinking cuz I got so nervous o_O; Well, he got the teeth out pretty quickly, the right side was a bit more tricky, and he kept applying a LOT of pressure, which made my jaw hurt, and I complained and yelled a lot, haha... when the tooth came out, it slipped and I almost choked on it O_< But yea, both of them came out whole, he didn't have to crack them or part them in pieces or anything, so that was good. I guess it made everything easier.
I got my pain medication prescription from the doctor, a paper explaining how I should care for my mouth in the next week or so, etc etc, the nurse was suuuuuper nice. I was a bit out of it so I ended up hugging her before I left hahaha. Carlos took me back home cuz the meds had to be made and it would take 20+min. I was frustrated about that, cuz the anesthesia was slowly fading away and the pain from the two open wounds in my mouth was settling in pretty horribly. Now, I was never one to cry for physical pain, and I easily think emotional shit is worse, but having two holes freshly open in the back of my mouth did end up taking three or four tears outta me, I can't lie, hahaha.
The worst part of the whole thing was the blood - I didn't stop spitting out blood for about two days haha - and how bad my mouth smelled thanks to it. It was super annoying.
My sister was actually beginning to be nice to me and such, when I came home after my surgery. I couldn't really swallow the Tylenol she tried to give me until my meds were ready, so I just went to bed and passed out until around 9pm when she woke me up to eat, cuz I hadn't eaten anything since morning. I thought she had made the soup, but turned out her boyfriend was the one taking care of me again -_- I didn't mind, it was pretty sweet, and he seemed genuinely concerned, specially for someone whom he has no responsibility to. I sorta just skipped the thought that it made me feel like he was caring more for me than my sister was. I thought she was being nice and all, waking me up to make sure I was taking my pain medicine, but that actually didn't last for long. Bleh. I was expecting too much. By Thursday night (my friends weren't there to pick me up yet), she was already yelling at me and expecting me to do stuff, and calling me names (a.k.a. bitch)...
I don't even remember exactly what happened, it had something to do with my trip and her being mad that I was still going, but it's not worth trying to remember. It'll just frustrate me again.
But eventually I did get my meds - some powerful stuff, I tell ya - and I was pretty out of it for quite a while, so I never got to write in here the entry I had meant to. ~shrug~

So, I decided that even though I have a lot to write about, I'm just gonna go ahead and make separate posts for each thing. This one was so I could complete the wisdom teeth surgery story, then I'll just go ahead and write another one about this weekend where I don't need to worry about making it too damn long and write everything I need to.
I'm trying to write this all down tonight because tomorrow's already Monday, I'm going back to my place to get my stitches out and pick up my dog so I can head up to O-town, which, in my head, will be the start of a completely different story already.
And if I wait any longer, I'll just keep on piling up these stories and never writing them, haha.
There's also the fact that I'm not even sure when I'll have a chance to get to a computer again. I mean, my friend whose place I'm staying at probably has his computer, but it's probably in his room, and he lives with his girlfriend and all, so if that's the case, I won't be able to write at night like I am now, and I don't really plan on spending too much time at home during the day.
~shrug~
I get worried about so much shit so easily, ugh. I really need to stop that.
In any case, point made, I should really try to finish writing about this weekend by tonight, because I might not get another chance anytime soon.

So, yeah.
~twirls thumbs awkwardly~

Filler - I Am An American

I am the McDonald double Cheese Burger
I am the Starbucks white chocolate Mocha
I am the Strawberry tootsie roll pop

I am the Los Angeles Lakers
I am the New Orleans Saints
I am the New York Yankees

I am the Walmart when I save money
I am the Disneyland when I have fun
I am the Public University when I attain a higher education

I am a dreamer through love and hope
I am a public servant through loyalty and respect
I am a believer through faith and patience

I am the Eagle
I am the Democracy
And I am the resource

I am the land of opportunity
I am the water of freedom
I am the soil of knowledge

You see, I am who I am
I am an American



----- by Gateway89

Second Story - Post Breakdown

I meant to write here while I was still in a good mood, because I knew it wouldn't last for long, but I guess I epically failed at that. Sigh.
But, alas, here I am, and here's the beginning of a new post.

First things first. I know my first post in this blog was anything but conventional, and it doesn't make much sense at all unless you're really close friends with me. But what the hell. ~shrug~ I guess that the more I write, the clearer things will become. I always end up talking about one thing or another and bringing up important points and facts from my past. I'm thinking that if I don't abandon this project, little by little most of my life might even be on here - somewhat scattered and maybe a little confusing, throughout the posts I write. So... it's whatever.
I'm not really looking to have lots of readers or to put my personal life out there for the entire world to see... I actually want as little attention as possible, which might even be an oxymoron, because you might be asking to yourself, "Why would you even publish these things on a blog, then?"
Well, in all honesty. I'm not really sure myself.
I guess I felt that just writing these things to myself doesn't really count as "venting" or "letting it out". It's still bottled in, cuz I'm the only one reading it. =/
I just felt a little bit of need to. So I did it. ~shrug~ I don't have to have an explanation for everything I do... right?

Well. Right now I have a killer headache that refuses to go away, so I'm not in a good mood. You guys get another depressing/frustrated/somewhat angry post. Ah, well.



My weekend was actually good. So that's the good part I have to tell.
After the first story I wrote here, I managed to force myself to go do some stuff I knew needed to get done. Bathed the dog, took a shower myself, cooked some food, actually ATE some of it, (somewhat) cleaned my room, vacuumed, etc. Felt better.

On Friday, I was supposed to go get a quick exam from a Brazilian dentist who works at home (with a ghetto mini-clinic inside one of his rooms), a place that I didn't feel comfortable in at all, and you can't help those things, but at the same time he was the only dentist we knew of whom I could go to, to take care of my wisdom teeth problem. So I gave in and went along with the plan, cuz something is better than nothing, and beggars can't be choosers, I understand that well.
But we had been calling him and leaving him messages since the day before and he never answered or called back. By Friday early afternoon, when I was taking a nap thanks to the constantly-pounding headache I always seem to have these days, he finally called back. Sister and I talked to him, explained it was somewhat of an emergency and how I needed these teeth taken out as soon as possible, but he said he was going on a mini trip for some sort of holidays or whatnot, and that he had other people to see all of the week he comes back, so that I'd have to wait until after that to get examined and have an idea of how much it would even cost me to get these pulled out.
I gotta be honest, when I'm in pain I get very impatient and easily angered. This guy frustrated me too much, so I had to give the phone to my sister before I told him to go "tomar no cú" and that I was very well capable of finding some other dentist who'd be a better professional.
I stormed back to my computer, completely disillusioned and frustrated, because I honestly had no idea how I'd find an affordable dentist who wouldn't ask for insurance, or something like that... the place I live at really sucks for these things.
I started my search the most common way possible, and the only one I knew of, on Google, LoL. I looked all around, found more useful websites, got phone numbers, called several places, and as the hours passed by my headache only worsened and I only got more disheartened. I actually did end up finding a place eventually, and I guess that if you look at it and consider the rest, it wasn't so bad after all. A clinic down by the next city, $75 dollars for an exam and two x-rays, and $550 dollars for the extraction of two teeth, with local anesthesia. The lady I talked to over the phone was real nice and sweet, also said that if I come back for the actual surgery within two weeks of the day of my exam, they'll count the $75 dollars of the exam towards the $550 for the extraction, so I'll be paying $475 instead. She told me I won't find a better deal than that, and I believe her.

Somehow convinced my sister to take me there before the clinic closed at 5:30 (it was already 4 o'clock), because she was completely unwilling to go. Of course the entire trip there was nothing short of unpleasant, and the way back was even more because we always find a way to fight. I guess I should stop writing down so many useless details, the way there and back didn't really matter much. She just talked on about her son, her plans to find a way to bring him here, and how she was even willing to get to the point of paying someone to kill Roger (her son's father) so she could be able to have him with her. I didn't really have a comment to that. I guess that when you become a mother, you're willing to do a lot of stuff you wouldn't have done before. She commented about how she was "dried up" now, and how she didn't feel anything for anyone anymore (should I assume this somewhat explains her bestial behavior towards me? I don't know), and I simply and honestly commented that she shouldn't have waited until things were at such an extreme point before doing SOMETHING about it. She didn't have an answer.

Well, got to the clinic, it went pretty smoothly, got two x-rays of my bottom wisdom teeth, and found out they've grown in straight and pretty, making the extraction a fairly easy job. Paid %75 for the exam and got into a fight with my sister - still inside the clinic - about why I didn't want to get the extraction done right then and there, instead of waiting until next week.
My various points were that I needed to call my step father first to tell him about the price and how I'll be paying for it (he made me promise, and I guess that as long as it's just his spare money, I can accept the help), that one of my friends was coming to spend the weekend with me and would be there that same night, and well, my fear. It sounds simple, but I couldn't bring myself to explain it to her - not like she'd understand it anyway. I'm so freaked out about getting these teeth pulled, I can't understand it myself. I'm just really scared.
But she asked about my friend (let's call him N.) who was coming to see me, I reminded her I had told her beforehand and that she had been ok with it. She asked me if he had been the one who sent me roses, I answered yes. She then proceeded to tell me, without half a second to think about what she was saying, that I'd be sleeping in her room with her and not in the same room as him.

My response was nothing short of this, exactly:
"HAHAHA! Umm... excuse me?"

She babbled on about some more nonsense that I didn't bother to listen to - specially since she kept talking in English in a loud voice when I had already calmly asked her to speak in Portuguese so to not be ridiculous and make a scene for the whole clinic. I just turned my back to her and left. Long story short, she just kept pressing my buttons, specially about my friend (who really IS just a friend, and she didn't bother to consider that before assuming I'd be sleeping with him) and I had to remind her that I'm a healthy twenty-year-old woman who's no longer a virgin by a long shot, who's used to living on her own and who's had at least a few men sleep in bed by her, without the need to ask for permission from anyone. So clearly she'd not be the one to change my lifestyle and take away the freedom I grew up having.
The argument died soon after and the rest of the way home was silent.


I realize I should've probably not waited this long to write in my blog again, because now it feels like the daily events got cramped up and made the post longer than it should be. I guess it's a learning process after all. I need to get into the habit of writing more often.

Continuing, my friend N. got to my place at just two or three minutes past midnight, it was a four-hour long drive after all, and upon seeing him it dawned on me that I have, in fact, been in isolation for about four months and have not seen a single familiar face (besides my sister's) in that long.
We hugged, his first commented upon letting me go was how much thinner I looked and felt, and how the bags under my eyes had gotten just that much worse. The only thing he was missing to complete the package, really, was how pale I am too, haha! Sorta caught me by surprise because I guess it was still a bit of a shock to hear that from someone else's mouth other than my own.
Well, I get caught up in details too easily. Basically, it was a blessing to have N. here with me for those two days. I felt very embarrassed in the beginning, about my state of depression, but it wasn't hard to actually feel better with company around me. He hung out and talked a lot, went to the mall and I scored a new memory card for my phone (and now I can use it as an MP3 player! Yeah! I need to remember to upload more songs in it.), ate at Olive Gardens, just drove around. The next day we went to Publix, and cooked some delicious chicken legs at home. Driving around in his car made me feel like I had a little piece of my old life back with me. It saddened me, but I was also glad to remember what it felt like. And to let me know how much I want it back.
I'm still very confused about what to do with this situation. I'm still very tied down and my options are very limited.

All in all, N. left on Sunday night, it was a sad good-bye, but I told myself that I tried my best to make him feel like the long trips back and forth were worth it and that he was happy here. I feel happy and relieved to know that I have people like him in my life, who are willing to spend so much money and time on a long-distance trip for the exchange of seeing me again for two days.
I can only say that I must've done something right to deserve friends who'll help me in absolutely any way I might need. And with that thought in mind, I could keep a smile on my face.





That Sunday night my sister got home from work with her new schedule, and we settled that the next day, Monday, we'd go to get this surgery done. It was the most convenient time, since it would give me at least a few days to recover before my road trip Thursday night.
I woke up and called the clinic, to let them know I'd be coming in a bit later for my surgery, and they said whichever time would be fine. Went to get sister out of bed, to which I did not receive a good reaction and had her snap at me. She was in a bad mood because it turned out that it was the day of her son's birthday, who's still in Brazil. I understood her pain and said nothing back. She replied she would get ready to take me only later on, so I left and didn't bother her again. Took my shower, did my thing as slowly as I could. By three thirty pm I found her sitting outside still in her pajamas, laptop on her legs, cigarette in one hand, cellphone on the other. I told myself to not get annoyed and act as polite and as nice as possible. In a soft voice I asked if she'd be getting ready soon. Her response was still quite snappy but I disregarded it. Said she'd only go get ready at about four thirty. I argued that'd be too late, seeing as the clinic closes at five thirty, and the surgery takes anywhere from one hour to possibly three. She tried to argue with me that it wouldn't matter to get there late, and I tried to explain that didn't make sense, we couldn't simply expect the doctor to stay after hours, that's very rude and unprofessional, besides they'd probably reschedule the surgery if we got there so late. She didn't really stop to listen to me, just went on to say, in a higher volume, that it was her son's birthday and that she was going to talk to him. I didn't answer, closed the door, and went back to my room.
About a good half to an hour later, she opens my door (still in her pajamas) to accuse me of not caring about my only nephew's birthday, guilt trip me about the situation, and of course, call me selfish and self centered, pointing out that I thought the world revolved around my bellybutton.
I gave her my best "WTF" look, complete with hand gesture and all, because I simply didn't have words to answer her. She left that note, and a guilt-filled me behind.
I changed back into my stay-at-home attire and pondered my mood and everything that had happened so far, when at about 5:15pm she asked me if I was ready to go. I answered there was no more time, the clinic was closing in fifteen minutes, I mean, really? She tried to argue with me about it, so I just answered that I had called them and they had said it was too late. That shut her up and I went to walk my dog in peace.

I always end up asking myself all these questions, specially if all this is really my fault. If I really am as uncaring, as dry, as selfish, as useless, as they tell me I am. If I really do look at only myself and forget about others, without even realizing.
I couldn't help but remember the time when she got her wisdom teeth pulled, and how she had someone to pay all the costs for her, and someone to take care of her every second of the post-surgery complications, and how everything was her way for about two weeks, and how she used that time to be in as bad a mood as she pleased without anyone to say a word against it.
Sigh.
Of course things can't be the same, or fair. They are never that way in life.


I am left to wait for Wednesday to get my surgery done, and pray that I will be well enough to travel by Thursday night, because God knows I'll be leaving whether I am healthy enough to leave my bed or not. I -need- to.
On that note, later that same Monday night my sister called me into her room to launch one last spiteful comment at me. Asked me if I was still up for my trip, if I knew how this surgery would go, and if I knew that there was a chance of my mouth opening back up and me getting hemorrhage. Also not failing to mention that that she "almost died" when she got hers pulled out. No lie, I had to contain myself from rolling my eyes at that absurd comment. In the end she made a point to add that I should not even THINK about calling her in case anything were to happen to me in my trip.
I gave her my thumbs up and walked back into my room, sighing to myself.

I slept the rest of that afternoon away thanks to the pounding and incessant headache, but at least that was a good way to make time pass by faster.

Today nothing much else happened, she worked all day and I procrastinated about all the little things I had to do, like making sure everything for the trip is ready and set to go.

Talked to my friend S. about some psychology (the subject I want to major in college) and the default pattern and behaviors of dysfunctional families around the globe, and heard, not for the first time, that I should probably leave my family's influence as soon as possible if I have any hopes of getting better and progressing in life. Specially if I'm this unhappy and I've made such severe stepping back thanks to them.



Now, I actually gave some few very close in-real-life friends access to this blog and to my first post. One of them is the friend who's picking me up Thursday, R.
I wasn't exactly prepared for her reaction, so I didn't know how to act.

How can I put this.

She wants me to throw everything I own in the back of her car, take my puppy in my arms, say my goodbyes, and leave her for good to never come back.
But the thing is that she is 110% serious about that plan.

Tonight I called her and we talked a bit more about this situation. I feel awkward. I can't help it. I was asking myself what reason I had to share this blog with my close friends, that was like bluntly asking for help. And now...

I'm scared.


I want to get out of here so bad. I know I need to. I know how much I want to say goodbye to never look back.
But how is that any close to possible at the time? I'm so tied down.
I don't have a job in the city where I came from. I obviously will be very short on money by tomorrow, seeing as I'm paying for my own surgery, and I can't count on my step father's help. If he doesn't have the money he doesn't have the money, and God knows I'm the last person who'd ask for any.

I kept thinking and worrying about things. Although I felt shy and bad about being a huge burden on my friends, I did talk to R. on the phone about it a bit. I explained how it's unrealistic to expect to stay at any friends' houses for an indefinite period of time without the guarantee of a job, or even a way around town to find one. So as much as I want to throw my entire room in the back of her car and just beat it, I know I need to be more sensible. This is a delicate situation... I constantly feel like I'm stuck in quicksand and my next move could either save me or finish drowning me.

She's assertive, though, and sounds like she knows exactly what should be done and how. She had no doubts in her voice when I asked if I should bring my puppy to Orlando with me and the answer was absolutely. That I should at least bring as much as I could fit in a large suitcase, so that I'll at least have my necessities in Orlando with me, in case I find a way to be able to stay. Make things easier for them to help me get away from... this, whatever it could be called.

At some point, she voiced her concern for my well-being and her willingness to help, move, drive, pick me up, anything, to get me out of this situation and back into a city where I'll be close to people I know, people who love me and who'll make sure I'm alright and care for me.

We hung up soon after that, but.



I actually sat down and cried. Hugged my legs close to me, my head on my knees, and just... cried.

Like I haven't done in a while, actually.

Because she said "where you'll be close to people you know, people who love you and who'll make sure you're alright and take care of you".
And what hurts the most is remembering my sister's words, how she said that friends won't help me or feed me or take care of me.


And my inner question, then.

If my friends won't care for me, and my family even less, then who?...



It felt good to cry. To feel vulnerability in the tears rolling down my cheeks. And the comfort of being alone and unwatched, protected from being reached in such a weak state. Being able to BE that weak, for that instant.


My worries are far from faded. My problems far from solved. My mind... far from fixed.

But my hope is still far from being gone, and I think that I will feel much better when I'm in the company of the people I love and miss so much.

I'm sorry for clinging. I'm sorry for yet once again, needing to be helped. I'm sorry for my weakness, for my vulnerability, for my complete lack of capacity to fix and control my own life by myself.

I can only hope and fight for a better tomorrow when I'll be able to be the person I want to be, and show my gratitude for everything my friends have ever done for me.


Because I would be a huge block of nothing without them.

First Story - Follow Up

Note: This is only going to make sense if you've already read the previous post.

Why is it almost nighttime already? It feels like the entire day was wasted.
Well, at least it passed by so quickly. That's a rarity these days, when time seems to be stopped, and I constantly wake up wishing for the next day to be over already.

I wasn't expecting my sister to be home so early. I thought she was working until at least eight or nine, but I guess I got her schedule wrong.
I was in the middle of washing the dishes - HER dishes - because of this morning and how bad and useless I felt, when she walked in the door carrying a box of pizza (ew...).
I was sorta caught by surprise, cuz honestly the last thing I wanted was to be caught doing the dishes, I can't really explain why. I just didn't want her to see me doing them. Plus I felt oh so very awkward, so I guess I might've looked sorta weird when I said a sheepish "hi".

Well, anyway, enough of useless details. The point is that shortly after she got home, while I was still working on the sink, she started nagging me about a job again. Said she was trying to get me a job at the same place she's working at, an Italian restaurant not so far from here, which I find very improbable, because they don't hire without papers there (and my sister's in process for Residency, so she can actually work).
We ended up fighting about it.
"We're low on money, you know", she said.

"And how is that even my fault?", I replied. I don't buy shit for myself. I don't go out places. I don't spend any money AT ALL. Hell, I don't even fucking eat that much.

"I'm not saying it is, but... How about if I don't wanna pay for your stuff anymore? What if I refuse?"

I was SO baffled when I heard that, I couldn't believe my ears. At least I didn't stay quiet out of surprise, and actually let out:
"Excuse me? What SHIT do you pay for me?"

And she pauses for just a split second, but nonetheless long enough for me to notice the hesitation, and replies.
"Well, I was going to pay for your dentist tomorrow!"

"HAH! Really? You can't be fucking serious."
What I actually mean when I said that, is "You can't be fucking serious you're playing that card with me NOW, after everything I've heard you say this morning. You're not really gonna pay for shit for me, and even if you were, I wouldn't want it, because you'll just throw it in my face later on."
Besides, how much does she think the surgery's gonna be, anyway? A hundred bucks? Please. Whatever.

She continues.
"I really was!"

"Well, too bad, because I've already made up my mind to pay for it MYSELF, so thanks but no thanks."

As to which she doesn't answer and storms back into her room.

I finish washing the dishes with frustration, and end my job actually feeling worse than when I started it.

And to think that I had started it in hopes of feeling better.

First Story

How far can someone go with complete and absolute self neglect?


Without studying.

Without working.

Without exercising.

Without friends.

Without family.

Without medicine.

Without leaving the house.

Without showering.

Without eating.

With very little water.

And even then it is drank almost automatically, the body's last effort to keep a soul from falling headfirst into some, I don't know, dark... endless abyss... to simply and purely meet death itself.
If anyone out there has the answer for that question (which I am sure -somebody- in this wide world must), and if you by some miracle happen to stumble by these words I'm mindlessly typing down, I would hope you'd share with me.

Because I'm afraid I am finding it out all on my own.

And it is a long, slow, painful process.
Not only for me, but for those weaker ones who depend on me, whom I somehow managed to neglect a tiny bit less than myself.

I mean, the dog eats and drinks more than I do.



My entire body aches. I feel this sharp pang in my upper back that for some reason makes breathing just a tidbit hard too, for about a second... I have not eaten. I have not drank any water, and my mouth is dry and it's hard to move my lips. My teeth still hurt thanks to my wisdom coming in but that is possibly the pain I've been neglecting the most in the past month.
I went outside ignoring the unusual cold that we Floridians are not used to, still sporting my sleeping shorts and wifebeater shirt, along with my usual flip flops. I didn't bother to brush my hair, or to even look in the mirror to check the state of the mess. I don't need to; I know I am pale, and the circles under my eyes have only gotten worse, and that I look considerably skinnier than before, having lost over 13lbs in little over a month (but that in itself is a positive remark, if you're anything like me... which I hope you aren't). The hair just completes the look.
I couldn't waste my time with any of those things before sitting at the computer and writing this... the words would've vanished from my mind in a flash if I had neglected THEM, too.




I am very well aware that everything I type down here will come off sounding as nothing more or nothing less than depressive, dramatic, emotional bullshit, yes. Yet I can't find out how to change it. I can't change it.


This morning I woke up all on my own (Considering most mornings my 4 month old puppy wakes me up to take him outside to do his business). Something prompted me to stay exactly where I was, arm over forehead, closed eyes, deep breathing. There was conversation outside. I don't remember what was the first thing I heard, or even if it was already about me or if they started on the subject just a couple seconds after I was awake and listening.
Mother and sister both speaking, one from over the laptop probably through Skype, and the other in her room, with the door open. Afterwards I wondered to myself if she meant for me to listen after all, or if she really did think I was asleep and ignorant. Sounds mean for me to say, but I have reasons to strongly believe in the latter.

And it is so hard to make sense of it all, after it was said and done, to try to lay it all down in the form of written words. I barely know how to explain it.
That's how I end up sitting here for fifteen minutes straight, staring at the screen like it will magically show me how.
Ah... I guess it's best I just write down what I heard without trying to explain my side of the story or my point of view at this time. I mean... I don't even know who's gonna be reading this anyway... so this is a very irrational worry.


It started with them complaining about me not wanting to get a new job. Quickly turning into them complaining about me spending all my days at home, sitting at the computer and doing not much else at all. Not even the things I could and SHOULD do, like washing some dishes, or vacuumming the carpet, or caring much for my personal hygiene. Even my neglect to eat or drink angered them.
My sister would say she can't take it anymore. That I am leeching off of her. Drying her out.
She said that for as long as I have someone who will pay my bills and let me live under their roof, I won't change. That she doesn't know what to do anymore.
My mother asked why won't I look for a job. My sister answered that I simply didn't want to. The tone of her voice was nothing short of exasperated. My mother tried to suggest she talks to me about it, my sister said it was no good, no good. It made no difference.
"And to top it all off", that's how she started her next sentence, to go on to talk about my wisdom teeth coming in and pushing the rest against each other, and how much damage it's done already, to the point where some of my teeth have already turned crooked and the front bottom one is almost completely sideways. It's been getting worse by the day, but of course I neglected it. Well, yeah, it hurts, but... I just don't have the motivation to do anything about it. I don't even complain about the pain (out loud, that is, because I surely have told people online). My sister found out about it when it was already this way and it's 100% sure I'll need some sort of braces put in. Sigh.
Her argument is that a surgery to get my wisdom teeth removed is expensive, specially now that it's gotten bad and it'll cost even more to fix the damage. And she is angry that I expect my mother to pay for it. They continue... my mother sounds angry, too, of course, and asks my sister, almost matter-of-factly, why can't I just wait for a better time to get the surgery. My sister responds there's really no way, because if I wait any longer, the damage will just get worse, and it'll just be even more money. An endless waiting cycle, in my opinion. My sister mentions the small amount of money I somehow managed to save up on my own, before losing the job I had until recently, and mentions how I'm not willing to pay for my own surgery with the only money I have, and again how I expect my mother to help with that.
Then my mother almost yells out, angrily, for her to tell me straight to my face that she doesn't have any spare money and she's not going to pay for any surgery shit, and that I can keep my pain and my crooked teeth if I want. They mention my step father (whom, I MUST mention, has been recently electrocuted at work and spent three days in the hospital, and is now facing court for his illegal status in the country and possible deportation, along with the fact that he still has a 10,000+ debt on his shoulders for the apartment that was on his name that my mother forced him to leave overnight, threatening to call ICE on him [that's the Immigration police], and the international phone bill my aunt abused when she was here for christmas and new years, also on his name), and they mentioned why couldn't I or my sister call him and demand he pay for my surgery. My mother complains how he won't answer her phonecalls, and my sister argues that he probably won't answer hers, either. They get angrier at the shared knowledge they have that the only person he'll willingly talk to, really, is me. And that I refuse to call him to ask for anything at all, even a cup of water if ever I'm dying of dehydration. The truth is that I'd refuse to call anyone at all, even them. They feel like they are in the position where I'm asking something out of them, because they KNOW I need it. And because of other more complicated issues, too, like the fact I know my step father would skip on eating to pay for something I needed, while my mother would never give up her life of luxuries (many which she calls "needs"), to do something her daughter needed. The irony of blood connections and whatnot.
They went on about pretty much the same subjects for a little longer, stuff like how I should use my own money for the surgery, because to them it is simply unbelievable that I expect anyone else to pay for anything for me. And a little more about my neglect to do anything around the house. And not much else that I remember.
They changed the subject for a bit, to bash on other things while my sister got ready for work, and I used the time to pretend my dog had finally woken me up, got up, put him on a leash, and stepped outside as quickly as I could, without even grabbing a jacket. I felt like I couldn't hear any more of it. I had no idea what my reaction would be like if I were to look at my sister at that moment.
So I walked around outside for about twenty minutes, in sort of a daze and not thinking much about anything, just replaying the conversation in my head, while waiting for my sister to leave the house.


I didn't know what to make of all of this then, and I still don't really know any better now.
My first reaction to everything I heard was, I think naturally, anger and frustration. But that was short-lived in the face of the complete and absolute sense of uselessness and dependance.

My first reaction went something like this...

How do they expect me to get a job? I mean, I know it's true I don't -want- to work, but even if I did, how do they expect me to go about it. On top of the fact that I'm undocumented and have no papers to allow me to work, which makes FINDING one already that hard, how do they expect me to keep up with it? My sister just recently got herself a job, just a little before I was out of my last one. She's the only one who can drive, which means she'd be the one dropping me off and picking me up from work, just like we were doing before, when I was working and she stayed home. Her schedule changes every week (which I really don't get, her managers must be psycho), and she's full of days when she leaves the house early in the morning to not come back until 10 or 11 at night, even because her breaks are not long enough. And even with that crazy schedule and how much she complains about how much she's been working & tiring herself out recently, she still never fails to get home complaining about how little money she's made. How do they expect me to find a job that will: employ an undocumented person, adjust my schedule along with my sister's instead of how they need it, and deal with me not having my own way there and possibly being always late or not even making to work on some days? (which is pretty much what got me fired from my last job in the first place) This shithole of a city doesn't even have any public means of transportation I could use, like I did in Orlando. And that's not even counting the fact that it would probably be more of an expense on gas to drop me off and pick me
up from work than I could possibly make up for with the little money I'd make in those under-the-table on-the-side illegal jobs who treat undocumented kids like shit and pay below minimum wage because we can't do anything about it anyway. We're not even supposed to be working.
If anyone has a solution or a way, please tell me. Because I honestly don't see how I could at the moment.

And...

I'm sorry I actually expected my own mother, or anyone else in my family, for that matter, to pay for a surgery for me. But this hardly came at me as surprising... considering the fact she actually never DID pay for anything medical for me and I STILL, at 20 years of life, have never had a single most basic blood test, and just three months ago was my very first visit to a gynecologist ever... but of course SHE wasn't the one who paid for THAT. I had to use the money my step father had sent me to pay for my martial arts classes, because my sister convinced me to do so, saying just one month out was worth my health. Ending result, I haven't gone back to classes ever since.
Nevermind the fact I'm barely 20 years old with just a high school diploma in my hands and absolutely no way of starting college anytime soon, with very little working experience to get a decent job that would enable me to support myself and pay for my own doctor visits and medical needs. Of course I should act like a completely capable adult and use the only money I had saved up in hopes of moving back out and starting my life somewhere else where I'll be happier and able to pursue some more opportunities to better my life and find my independence. I should just act responsible and use the "at least eight hundred dollars she has in her account", as my sister put it. Which amount, I feel I must add, she is very wrong about, because she forgot to consider that even after I lost my job I still helped pay for the phone & electric bills we had. I still have two years of taxes to pay. I was going to help with the rent, too, if she hadn't received that bank offer that gives you $100 dollars when you open a new account. Oh, that's right, not mentioning as well how she still owes me about $210 more dollars out of the $500 she asked me to lend her so she could put on her fake mega hair. And to top it, she's asking me to open a new bank account for myself and count the $100 dollars the bank will give me as $100 off on the amount SHE owes me. Funny, huh?
So I gotta say that I will consider myself lucky if I even have $500 dollars left in my account.
But no matter. I am going to pay for it myself anyway. It's not like I have a choice, and I know it could get serious if I don't get them pulled out. It'll most likely take the rest of the money I have, which will ruin any chances of me going back to Orlando by myself anytime soon, or doing anything else I was planning to do. But health is health, and what I can do?
Nevermind I actually wish I -could- save up to pay for my own college, but circumstances have never let me. Not even two months into my very first job, I was forced to move out and live with roommates I found on the internet, so that I'd be able to afford my rent, bills, transportation, food, and etc., leaving absolutely no way I could've saved up any money - not making the measly $600 to $650 I made a month.
I'm not making excuses. I hate making excuses. I don't wanna hear anyone pointing the finger at me and telling me I'm making excuses. God, all-powerful and omnipotent in the heavens above, if there even IS a heaven, knows what's inside my heart and KNOWS that, BY GOD, if I had the MEANS, I'd be working hard and paying for absolutely everything I need. Even if it was just the basics, like living and medical expenses, because GOD KNOWS that I can do just fine without some more luxurious or un-needed things, like a big apartment, or expensive food, or new clothes, or a new car, or an mp3 player, or a laptop, or anything else that's not a "need"... because that's exactly how I was living when I was by myself in Orlando... and even though I could afford my living, I didn't have enough for my medical, but even that didn't bother me and I didn't complain about it, because... I was HAPPY... and I was FREE... and I had my job, and my little money, and my bike I used to go to work with, and my friends who were by my side...
I feel like just putting my head down on my arms and crying, because I feel like I made such a huge mistake in my life, and there's no way to erase it, no way to turn back time, no way to re-think my choices. This was a one-way street with no U-turns, but I had no idea it was going to be this way. And now I just don't know what to do.
I was naive to the max. I trusted the people who had abandoned me and mistreated me in the first place. I threw my entire life away because I trusted them.
And now what?







Of course I blame myself for all of this. I'm the one who's lazy and uncaring. I don't even try anymore, when I should.

The cold, hard, absolute truth is that no one has had it easy, everyone is going through something different, and at the same time that no one bothers to try to understand what the next is going through, they all just keep on struggling by, while I feel like I've given up completely. A dead weight to add to the problems and shortcomings of everyone else.


A few times already, through the moments spent outside, or walking back in to the now empty apartment, or writing this all down, I thought I'd shed some tears. The familiar knot in my throat and the white of the eyes burning, yet I didn't come even close to actually crying any.



But even after all of this, I gotta admit that I *am* thankful to God, or to whatever omnipotent force out there that might make things happen for a reason, for waking me up at the exact needed moment to listen to everything I heard this morning.

It hurt.

It made me feel like the lowest and most pathetic creature to walk this earth.

It angered me, yeah. I don't think there's any way it couldn't have.

But, and don't ask me how my brain even managed to work this way in the midst of all the other irrational emotions, as I walked outside and killed time until she left the house, for fear of looking into her eyes and being simply unable to lie, I realized that what I heard was needed. I think more than needed.
If anything, just to give me a bigger awareness, perspective of exactly WHAT kind of situation I am truly in.

Because it is so easy to get lost inside my own head and emotions.
So easy to block practically everything else out, to deny the reality that surrounds me.
I don't know if it would be easy for anybody else, but sometimes I guess I do feel like I can't deal with it all. But then I end up feeling like I just live inside my own little fairy tale.
And that worries me.

The same questions arise every time, without fail.

What will become of me.

What is my future like.

Is it just as miserable as I am feeling right now, or does it get even worse?

Sometimes I worry I might end up in a mental institution somewhere around the globe, given that I probably wouldn't be able to stay in this country.

Ah, well... if I lose my mind, I pray that at least I turn crazy enough to not remember any of this at all. You know, the kind of crazy where the person is happy inside their own minds, however insane they might be to the people observing.
Non-conforming to seemingly normal rules that society thrusts upon us from birth.

I'm afraid, I'm alone, tired, hungry and totally useless.



----------------



Let's get fucked up and die.
I'm speaking figuratively, of course.
Like the last time that I committed suicide,
Social suicide.
Yeah so I'm already dead, on the inside,
But I can still pretend.
With my memories and photographs,
I have learned to love the lie.

I wanna know what it's like to be awkward and innocent, not belligerent.
I wanna know how it feels to be useful and pertinent and have common sense, yeah.
Let me in,
Let me in to the club.
Cause I wanna belong,
And I need to get strong.
And if memory serves,
I'm addicted to words and they're useless.


Let's get fucked up and die.
I'm riding hard on the last legs of every lie.
And the BMX bike of my life is about to explode,
I'm about to explode.
I'm a mess, I'm a wreck.
I am perfect and I have learned to accept
All my problems and short comings,
Cause I'm so visceral, yet deeply inept.

I want to thank you for being a part of my Forget-Me-Nots and Marigolds,
And all the things that don't get old.
Is it legal to do this?
I surely don't know.
It's the only way I have learned to express myself.
Through other peoples' descriptions of life.
I'm afraid I'm alone and entirely useless.


Let's get fucked up and die.
For the last time with feeling,
I'll try not to smile.
As I cover my head and drink heavily into the night,
That’s no shock and surprise.
I believe that I can overcome this and beat everything in the end.
But I choose to abuse for the time being.
Maybe I'll win, but for now I've decided to die.

Sister Soldier you’ve been such a positive influence on my mental frame.
If I could ever repay you I would but I'm hard up for cash,
And my memory lacks initiative.
Goddamn the liquor store's closed.
I was so close to scoring.
It hurts, it destroys, 'till it kills.
I am tired and hungry and totally useless.