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.