1.29.2010
Girlfriend In a Coma
Is it pathetic to say that I've been throughly searching out my 'perfect' engagement ring, when in reality it won't be for awhile? That is to say, if it happens at all. I can't help it, but I love the idea of having that beautiful ring on my finger that says "yes, I'm all his." Yes, I am vain, and I can't pretend to be the modern girl that thinks she doesn't need something to symbolize love and trust. I simply want something to show off how wonderfully happy I am. All in due time, but really, a girl can dream :)
1.27.2010
Good Looking Man About Town
I don't understand the relationship I have with my father right now, considering how much it's changed over the years. I remember being about 5 years old, having him play dollhouse with me and loving every minute of it. I remember him picking me up with one hand, holding me high above his head.
My father is a typical renaissance man, a loving father and provider. He takes care of his wife and four children, along with the family dog. He completely renovated our house: carpets, hardwood flooring, deck, walkway, painting, new walls, new bathrooms, and the list goes on. But I wonder if he's ever happy.
There was only one time I really ever saw my father drunk, and to this day I can't figure out why it bothers me so much. My sister ran to get me, crying that my mother was trying to help me father to the bathroom. We snuck up to the bedroom door and listened in on our parents' conversation. My father was completely humiliated and wanted my mother to leave him. Not just leave him there, actually leave him. I remember him saying "Why are you still with me?" And that broke my heart.
During my high school years, my father treated me like the family outcast. We weren't close at all. I always had a boyfriend, and I never felt approval. And I always wanted approval. But I wasn't the athletic, overachieving daughter I think he wanted. I danced, and was in the school orchestra and band. I felt that he was unapproachable, and was always afraid of his towering figure.
But through all of that, I always knew he loved me. He told me all the time. But I didn't understand why he treated me that why; why I treated him the same way back. I still don't have an answer.
Once I left for school my freshman year, my father and I talked regularly on the phone. More than regularly you could say. Sometimes more than once a day. It was wonderful, and I loved having him back in my life. But it was always the same when I went home; I was the brunt of every joke. Atleast I felt that way.
I'm sure my father sees himself as the glue of the family. He's the one that's meant to keep everyone disciplined and in line. I don't know if he saw my self-harm as something he did wrong, or something that he just didn't know how to fix. Or maybe it was both?
The night before the clinic, I remembering him telling me there was "something wrong with me" and after my time there he told me I was "tearing the family apart." These words cut me harder than any knife could have ever.
But besides these comments, I don't remember having a terrible relationship with him during this time. I remember wanting to be alone most of the time, trying to fix myself. I remember wanting my parents to read books on the psychology of self-harm and they wouldn't. I'm still upset for them thinking they understood me and not trying harder. But my parents have always been set in their ways.
Now I barely speak to my father. I asked him to call me today, but am still waiting for a reply. My relationship with my mother had become very strong, but I am longing to have my father back in my life. I hate to say it, but I feel helpless without him. He is my rock and my protection.
I understand that he must feel helpless as well, not being to help his own daughter; not being able to protect her from her personal demons. But I want so bad for us to be close again.
The worst is not understanding why our relationship is so dysfunctional. I want to understand, I mean maybe I could come to some conclusion, make some sense of this mess. But for now I must wait, wait for a phone call that won't come.
My father is a typical renaissance man, a loving father and provider. He takes care of his wife and four children, along with the family dog. He completely renovated our house: carpets, hardwood flooring, deck, walkway, painting, new walls, new bathrooms, and the list goes on. But I wonder if he's ever happy.
There was only one time I really ever saw my father drunk, and to this day I can't figure out why it bothers me so much. My sister ran to get me, crying that my mother was trying to help me father to the bathroom. We snuck up to the bedroom door and listened in on our parents' conversation. My father was completely humiliated and wanted my mother to leave him. Not just leave him there, actually leave him. I remember him saying "Why are you still with me?" And that broke my heart.
During my high school years, my father treated me like the family outcast. We weren't close at all. I always had a boyfriend, and I never felt approval. And I always wanted approval. But I wasn't the athletic, overachieving daughter I think he wanted. I danced, and was in the school orchestra and band. I felt that he was unapproachable, and was always afraid of his towering figure.
But through all of that, I always knew he loved me. He told me all the time. But I didn't understand why he treated me that why; why I treated him the same way back. I still don't have an answer.
Once I left for school my freshman year, my father and I talked regularly on the phone. More than regularly you could say. Sometimes more than once a day. It was wonderful, and I loved having him back in my life. But it was always the same when I went home; I was the brunt of every joke. Atleast I felt that way.
I'm sure my father sees himself as the glue of the family. He's the one that's meant to keep everyone disciplined and in line. I don't know if he saw my self-harm as something he did wrong, or something that he just didn't know how to fix. Or maybe it was both?
The night before the clinic, I remembering him telling me there was "something wrong with me" and after my time there he told me I was "tearing the family apart." These words cut me harder than any knife could have ever.
But besides these comments, I don't remember having a terrible relationship with him during this time. I remember wanting to be alone most of the time, trying to fix myself. I remember wanting my parents to read books on the psychology of self-harm and they wouldn't. I'm still upset for them thinking they understood me and not trying harder. But my parents have always been set in their ways.
Now I barely speak to my father. I asked him to call me today, but am still waiting for a reply. My relationship with my mother had become very strong, but I am longing to have my father back in my life. I hate to say it, but I feel helpless without him. He is my rock and my protection.
I understand that he must feel helpless as well, not being to help his own daughter; not being able to protect her from her personal demons. But I want so bad for us to be close again.
The worst is not understanding why our relationship is so dysfunctional. I want to understand, I mean maybe I could come to some conclusion, make some sense of this mess. But for now I must wait, wait for a phone call that won't come.
1.26.2010
Half a Person
It's the ambiance of winter days such as these that give me a horrible feeling. The gloom from the overcast days seem to force itself on everyone, oppressing any chance of happiness. And ofcourse, I am no exception. The days seem longer- never-ending, as if mother nature realizes people are praying for just a small glimpse of the sun, and she decides to hold out on us instead.
It's days like these that do not help a recoverer. It feels like some energy is pushing me back, back into what I was. Although at many times I feel like indulging myself in past habits, I am repeatedly reminding myself that it isn't worth it. Hopefully my reminders will be enough.
It's days like these that do not help a recoverer. It feels like some energy is pushing me back, back into what I was. Although at many times I feel like indulging myself in past habits, I am repeatedly reminding myself that it isn't worth it. Hopefully my reminders will be enough.
1.25.2010
I Just Want to See the Boy Happy
Lately, I feel like I've been digging myself in a hole. Relationship wise. I don't know when to cut it out, and just be content, when to say what I'm feeling, and when to hold it back. I keep referring to past relationships when any of these issues arise, and I come to the same conclusion- just shut your mouth. I don't think it's working the way I planned.
I do a really good job at making any situation a catch-22. If I don't say what I want, I make myself upset, but if I do say what I want, I feel like a complete and utter bitch. If asked what I'd like to do that day, I usually end up saying something along the lines of, "Anything, it doesn't matter" or "Whatever you'd like, I don't care" when I actually do care. But who's a poor girl to talk when she won't be the one paying for any excursions or activities? So I stay quiet.
But then I'm too quiet- then somethings wrong. And then I cry, and ruin everything. Sometimes I wish I could push rewind, and just start over. But I keep digging further and further until I'm going to end up falling. Hard.
And I'm telling you, I don't want to fall. Everything is perfect, and I have a wonderful way of creating a tragedy where there shouldn't be one. So, my plan? Tell my feelings within reason and go with the flow. I love him too much to screw things up. I will not be having a repeat of hell anytime soon.
I do a really good job at making any situation a catch-22. If I don't say what I want, I make myself upset, but if I do say what I want, I feel like a complete and utter bitch. If asked what I'd like to do that day, I usually end up saying something along the lines of, "Anything, it doesn't matter" or "Whatever you'd like, I don't care" when I actually do care. But who's a poor girl to talk when she won't be the one paying for any excursions or activities? So I stay quiet.
But then I'm too quiet- then somethings wrong. And then I cry, and ruin everything. Sometimes I wish I could push rewind, and just start over. But I keep digging further and further until I'm going to end up falling. Hard.
And I'm telling you, I don't want to fall. Everything is perfect, and I have a wonderful way of creating a tragedy where there shouldn't be one. So, my plan? Tell my feelings within reason and go with the flow. I love him too much to screw things up. I will not be having a repeat of hell anytime soon.
1.21.2010
I Know It's Gonna Happen Someday
The first few days of classes have been relatively calm. Either that means I've got everything together, or there really isn't that much work at all. Could it be the calm before the storm? I'm praying it isn't. My life has been traveling by smoothly, and I am planning on keeping it this way. I am getting enough sleep and still making enough time for school and friends. It's rather nice getting out, especially when living in a 4x4 room, with little ventilation and almost no windows. This calm is such a relief, considering my apprehension before classes started. All is well.
1.12.2010
Dear God Please Help Me
Tomorrow starts my re-do of spring 09 classes. Am I worried? Definitely. After everything that's happened how can I not be? But something is different this time; I am completely confident in my ability to succeed. I just need to stay focused and keep my priorities straight. Tomorrow will be the start of 'designer' Danielle. It's exciting to start doing what I love again :)
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