Today was bittersweet. And I don't mean my cookies.. Though they were named after this particular feeling raging inside me today. Which is ironic because when I walked into Angela's house tonight and handed her the bag of cookies that were for her, and she asked me what was bothering me, I thought for a minute my cookie name gave it away. But perhaps it was just more noticeable from my facial expression. Though now that I typed all this out here I suppose she'll read it and know. STALKER! Vampire stalker! /shrug I burned myself pretty bad while baking the cookies too. I was holding onto the cookie sheet after taking out my first batch. I reached with my right hand to grab something and all the cookies slid down to the side I wasn't holding. And as I reached to grab it before it fell the corner of the cookie sheet fell right on my arm! Ugh, another "Bella moment" as Amy calls them. Hope it goes away fast its an extremely obvious spot for a band-aid.
The sweet
Today was sweet because I got to spend time with Angela and Austin, Lori and Amy. I was actually able to open up to Angela a bit about how I feel with Patty. I even was able to talk to her about night terrors, she has them as well which is crazy because all my years dealing with it I have never met anybody who has. And I was able to completely understand her feelings on her relationship with Marq. I like that we have that one thing in common. I feel like Angela is at least one friend I have that understands me. Maybe not completely but more than most. However, it could have gone better if I wasn't shivering, burning with a fever and breaking out in sweat. Was that because I was uncomfortable like I always am in front of people? Or am I getting sick again? Who knows with me..
It was really good to be with Angela tonight though. She made me laugh and so did Austin. They really cheered me up. Austin in his little Jedi Cape with the crazy beard cracked me up. And Angela and I always seem to get sillier when we are around each other. Angela liked my cookies too that made me feel good. I don't think I'm very good at baking cookies but it is the only thing I dare to try really. Its the one thing I actually enjoy doing in the kitchen, ever since I was little. Maybe with practice I will get better? I'm also hoping that the more time I spend with Angela the more comfortable I'll get around her and maybe I'll be able to transfer that with others. Maybe I won't always be a freak around people.
Okay warning! Here comes the bitter, since its been building and hiding inside me for the past, God only knows how long, its going to be a long, F word filled, boring, angsty rant. You have been warned!
The Bitter
I keep replaying Val's words in my head. That there is no such thing as normal. That I'm unique and I should be glad about it. And truthfully I am, I don't want to be the same as everybody else. But my god, I want people to be able to relate to me. To understand me. I want to understand myself. I want to be able to get close to people. I want that so badly. No, I need that..I crave that. I crave this "normalness" that will make me be able to open up to people. To take down this stupid wall that's always been built around me. I want to be understood, loved and wanted..and needed. I'm tired of feeling alone and alien. I'm tired of feeling like the only thing I can fucking relate to and can relate to me is books, movies and my own imagination. I'm tired of feeling like a freak. I want to be able to be in a room with people without having a panic attack. I want to be able to hug people without feeling overly awkward or hyperventilating. I want to be able to sleep. And sleep without night terrors. I want to be able to go a fucking month without getting sick! I want to be able to wake up and look in the mirror and not loath myself for some reason or another. I want to be able to talk on the phone with somebody other than Patty without stuttering or hyperventilating or blushing a heat across my cheeks that burns the phone. To be able to look people in the eyes when I talk to them. To stop all my nervous fucking habits like biting my lip and running my hands through my hair. And not knowing what to do with my hands. Stuttering and stammering on sentences. Looking like a damn idiot all the time.
I feel stupid when people around me fear things that seem like normal, logical things to fear. Like flying on a plane, or driving a car, storms or I don't know guns or some shit! All of those things seem logical to fear. Why don't I fear those things? Even when Amy was scared shitless next to me on the plane and I tried to relate to her and understand her feelings. The most I could do was mock her by throwing my arms in the air and pretend it was a roller coaster, and hope it made her laugh and distract her enough. I went as far as to stare out the window and wonder what would happen if we crashed. I thought of everything that would happen in that situation. The little bags that would fall to help us breathe. The cushions being used as a flotation device. Knowing that we would literally fall to our deaths didn't even scare me. Honestly, it seems like a fun exhilarating way to die. Then on our flight back I thought maybe its the window that calms me? Maybe if I weren't by it I would feel panic like my sister. But I don't think so. I just don't fear things like that. Even when I'm driving extremely reckless and deep down I know if I were to get in an accident something very horrible could happen. I don't fear it. Storms as well, those just calm me. Even when a tornado literally went over our heads once, the most I could fucking think at the time was "Wow this will make a great story!" And guns.. /scoff What a joke! Guns are the least fearful thing to me. So what is it, what the hell is wrong with me? I don't fear death obviously. But that is for sure not fucking normal. And here when I use the word normal I'm not speaking as if I want to fear these things like everybody else. But I can't help but question it. I can't help but wonder, why don't I fear things that should be fearful? Something is obviously fucked in my head. More so than I thought.
I can't help but wonder what my mother fears. Her mental state is just as bad as mine if not worse. I snorted out loud when I typed that and rolled my eyes. Who am I kidding? Her mental state is far fucking worse than mine. But for all I know I could be following in her footsteps. Does she fear death? Do storms, airplanes and guns cause her to freak out? I know for a fact car accidents couldn't because she has been in too many. But what does it mean when you think about death staring you in the face and you don't even flinch at the thought? Or when the thought of falling to your death even excites you a bit? You're fucking twisted is the best I can come up with.
And yet the idea of walking the halls of a building with a bunch of people makes me want to throw up the contents of my stomach. Or the thought of being in a hospital makes me feel dizzy. Oh God, I thought I wouldn't last when we had to go to the hospital to see Papa. I remember seeing Amy near tears so many times. Nana cried as well. And the relatives that surrounded me in that small hospital room were all sad with their facial expressions set with stress and depression. And even though seeing Papa sitting there weak and dying in the hospital bed made me beyond depressed.. I didn't get near tears once. My mind just kept going over how disgusted I was with being in a hospital. And all the horrible memories I have had in such horrible abnormally clean white rooms. I was sure in that moment that if I was ever put in the position where I knew I was going to die by cancer or some such illness, I would rather die in my house than a sick place like a hospital. I can't even cry over normal things. On that whole trip the only time I cried was when I was talking with Amy one night. And what brought it on was ridiculous! Amy and I were both stressed out, angry and upset with Mom. She called John crying and then called Kim and Stacy to talk to them about it. She was able to get out all her frustrations by social interactions with people that loved her. One being her husband. I envied that. I was so beyond jealous. I wanted that more than anything. Not just to have a husband and somebody to confide in like that. But to be physically and emotionally able to confide in somebody. Look at me? This is the best I can do. Confide in a fucking blog. Fuck you very much.
I can't help but feel the bitterness rising up in my throat threatening to choke me every time I'm not distracted. Even driving home from Angela's I could feel it. However, after now typing that huge rant while drinking chocolate milk and eating my Bittersweet Butterscotch Crinkle cookies I think I have..quite literally swallowed my bitterness today, in cookie form. Cookies do make life better. And hopefully make my ass bigger? Please, God? Come on!!!
The sweet
Today was sweet because I got to spend time with Angela and Austin, Lori and Amy. I was actually able to open up to Angela a bit about how I feel with Patty. I even was able to talk to her about night terrors, she has them as well which is crazy because all my years dealing with it I have never met anybody who has. And I was able to completely understand her feelings on her relationship with Marq. I like that we have that one thing in common. I feel like Angela is at least one friend I have that understands me. Maybe not completely but more than most. However, it could have gone better if I wasn't shivering, burning with a fever and breaking out in sweat. Was that because I was uncomfortable like I always am in front of people? Or am I getting sick again? Who knows with me..
It was really good to be with Angela tonight though. She made me laugh and so did Austin. They really cheered me up. Austin in his little Jedi Cape with the crazy beard cracked me up. And Angela and I always seem to get sillier when we are around each other. Angela liked my cookies too that made me feel good. I don't think I'm very good at baking cookies but it is the only thing I dare to try really. Its the one thing I actually enjoy doing in the kitchen, ever since I was little. Maybe with practice I will get better? I'm also hoping that the more time I spend with Angela the more comfortable I'll get around her and maybe I'll be able to transfer that with others. Maybe I won't always be a freak around people.
Okay warning! Here comes the bitter, since its been building and hiding inside me for the past, God only knows how long, its going to be a long, F word filled, boring, angsty rant. You have been warned!
The Bitter
I keep replaying Val's words in my head. That there is no such thing as normal. That I'm unique and I should be glad about it. And truthfully I am, I don't want to be the same as everybody else. But my god, I want people to be able to relate to me. To understand me. I want to understand myself. I want to be able to get close to people. I want that so badly. No, I need that..I crave that. I crave this "normalness" that will make me be able to open up to people. To take down this stupid wall that's always been built around me. I want to be understood, loved and wanted..and needed. I'm tired of feeling alone and alien. I'm tired of feeling like the only thing I can fucking relate to and can relate to me is books, movies and my own imagination. I'm tired of feeling like a freak. I want to be able to be in a room with people without having a panic attack. I want to be able to hug people without feeling overly awkward or hyperventilating. I want to be able to sleep. And sleep without night terrors. I want to be able to go a fucking month without getting sick! I want to be able to wake up and look in the mirror and not loath myself for some reason or another. I want to be able to talk on the phone with somebody other than Patty without stuttering or hyperventilating or blushing a heat across my cheeks that burns the phone. To be able to look people in the eyes when I talk to them. To stop all my nervous fucking habits like biting my lip and running my hands through my hair. And not knowing what to do with my hands. Stuttering and stammering on sentences. Looking like a damn idiot all the time.
I feel stupid when people around me fear things that seem like normal, logical things to fear. Like flying on a plane, or driving a car, storms or I don't know guns or some shit! All of those things seem logical to fear. Why don't I fear those things? Even when Amy was scared shitless next to me on the plane and I tried to relate to her and understand her feelings. The most I could do was mock her by throwing my arms in the air and pretend it was a roller coaster, and hope it made her laugh and distract her enough. I went as far as to stare out the window and wonder what would happen if we crashed. I thought of everything that would happen in that situation. The little bags that would fall to help us breathe. The cushions being used as a flotation device. Knowing that we would literally fall to our deaths didn't even scare me. Honestly, it seems like a fun exhilarating way to die. Then on our flight back I thought maybe its the window that calms me? Maybe if I weren't by it I would feel panic like my sister. But I don't think so. I just don't fear things like that. Even when I'm driving extremely reckless and deep down I know if I were to get in an accident something very horrible could happen. I don't fear it. Storms as well, those just calm me. Even when a tornado literally went over our heads once, the most I could fucking think at the time was "Wow this will make a great story!" And guns.. /scoff What a joke! Guns are the least fearful thing to me. So what is it, what the hell is wrong with me? I don't fear death obviously. But that is for sure not fucking normal. And here when I use the word normal I'm not speaking as if I want to fear these things like everybody else. But I can't help but question it. I can't help but wonder, why don't I fear things that should be fearful? Something is obviously fucked in my head. More so than I thought.
I can't help but wonder what my mother fears. Her mental state is just as bad as mine if not worse. I snorted out loud when I typed that and rolled my eyes. Who am I kidding? Her mental state is far fucking worse than mine. But for all I know I could be following in her footsteps. Does she fear death? Do storms, airplanes and guns cause her to freak out? I know for a fact car accidents couldn't because she has been in too many. But what does it mean when you think about death staring you in the face and you don't even flinch at the thought? Or when the thought of falling to your death even excites you a bit? You're fucking twisted is the best I can come up with.
And yet the idea of walking the halls of a building with a bunch of people makes me want to throw up the contents of my stomach. Or the thought of being in a hospital makes me feel dizzy. Oh God, I thought I wouldn't last when we had to go to the hospital to see Papa. I remember seeing Amy near tears so many times. Nana cried as well. And the relatives that surrounded me in that small hospital room were all sad with their facial expressions set with stress and depression. And even though seeing Papa sitting there weak and dying in the hospital bed made me beyond depressed.. I didn't get near tears once. My mind just kept going over how disgusted I was with being in a hospital. And all the horrible memories I have had in such horrible abnormally clean white rooms. I was sure in that moment that if I was ever put in the position where I knew I was going to die by cancer or some such illness, I would rather die in my house than a sick place like a hospital. I can't even cry over normal things. On that whole trip the only time I cried was when I was talking with Amy one night. And what brought it on was ridiculous! Amy and I were both stressed out, angry and upset with Mom. She called John crying and then called Kim and Stacy to talk to them about it. She was able to get out all her frustrations by social interactions with people that loved her. One being her husband. I envied that. I was so beyond jealous. I wanted that more than anything. Not just to have a husband and somebody to confide in like that. But to be physically and emotionally able to confide in somebody. Look at me? This is the best I can do. Confide in a fucking blog. Fuck you very much.
I can't help but feel the bitterness rising up in my throat threatening to choke me every time I'm not distracted. Even driving home from Angela's I could feel it. However, after now typing that huge rant while drinking chocolate milk and eating my Bittersweet Butterscotch Crinkle cookies I think I have..quite literally swallowed my bitterness today, in cookie form. Cookies do make life better. And hopefully make my ass bigger? Please, God? Come on!!!
so, since i can now post on your blogs... i will need to say... dang good coooooookies!
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