Day 4: Cloudy day but a clear mind.
Yesterday was a good day for me. Aside from finding about three spiders from the time I got home to going on my bed afterwards. I spent the day with my nana and papaw. Everybody knows I love going over there and talking my head off. I get teased from my papaw all the time that I talk too much. If he knew how much I talked at home he’d probably understand why I go over there and never shut up. I’m a very quiet person at home. I don’t talk much, but I sing a lot so it makes up for it. I also listen to my music very loud so it makes things even harder for me to talk over. If I don’t have things to talk about with my nana, then there’s two things that will happen. She’ll want to talk about Adam Lambert the entire time. When I talk about music and she pulls Adam out of her mouth, I usually ignore it. Sorry, nana! She probably ignores half of the conversation so it’s okay. The other thing if we don’t have anything to talk about, we’ll fall asleep on each other and that’s happened once or twice.
When my papaw leaves the kitchen, my side of talking about anything that’s been wrong in my head comes out of my mouth. Thankfully with her everything I tell her doesn’t go from one ear and out her mouth like somebody else I know. For example, I know something that I’m apparently not suppose to know. It’s suppose to be a secret, even though it involves me. When things like this happen, it freaks me out. I’d rather have a secret than me knowing about it and thinking about it until somebody tells me about it. I was told this last Friday, and for those who have been paying attention. That’s when I got into my depression bubble. I told my nana what was going through my head, not all of it because I didn’t want to freak her out. I told her enough that she got the story. If I get told good things, I usually prep myself for the rejection. I’m usually rejected anyways, so nothing new there. So I think my depression was started by this secret. I don’t give things the benefit of a doubt because I’ve always to come out as a bad thing. Failure has been the main option. I was prepping my mind and body for this rejection. I still have no clue on which I’m getting yet. If it’s a good thing or another failure in the making.
When I told my nana that I was doing this and got to talking about things like school. When I was junior in high school, I couldn’t do Geometry. The first day I was in there, I bawled. I don’t know what it was, but something wasn’t right at all. The second day of school, our teacher (who at that time was new, bless her heart for dealing with me on her first day) did small things and I didn’t know how to do them at all. I didn’t remember that for Algebra. I just felt stupid and got so low inside. By the third day, I wanted my schedule changed. There was a catch though, you had to take Geometry and Algebra 2 for complete to get a Core 40 diploma. It sucks to be in the that bubble where you don’t feel conformable doing something and when you try to change it something’s there in the middle of the road. I ended up changing my diploma from Core 40 to a standard. I got switched out of there into Business Math, as much as I hated that class too. I had to have that last Math class, so I kept my mouth shut and tears inside, until later.
Then when I became a senior, during second semester, now this class was an elective. I choose this class. I wanted to take Sports literature to get my mind back into sports. The first day I was in there, I expected some athletes in there. The entire class was nothing but students who played sports. I, once again, felt out-of-place. Thankfully this time around I didn’t bawl my eyes out and I only had to in there for one day. That was a lot better than the year before. I was put in Flim literature and actually grown to like that class. I didn’t feel like a failure in a sense, but I did feel out-of-place against all of my classmates who could play sports. Things like that can mess with your head very easily. When I was just starting to get things figured out for college, I started to feel that same feeling but in a different way than the last two times. Myself as a disabled person, I don’t like a lot of sympathy because of the way I am. When I had to order special stuff for college, it messed with my head so much. The second thing was I wasn’t going to have an aide for the few days so my cousin was going to help out. Another thing to mess with me, the burden of ruining somebody’s day. And last but not least, the day I was supposed to start and switched to online classes, worst day ever.
My nana and I were talking about all of these things. I’m at a place right now that those things don’t bother me as much as they use to. I hated the fact I had to go down to a standard diploma when the other boys were on a Core 40. Since I was the only girl in our group. I always felt like I had to prove myself wrong against the boys. I liked that, it pushed me to go forward with things, but when this happened it was like a let down that I hated with a passion. After I quit college, talking about it was always the hardest thing to do especially with my old counselors. The year after, I had gotten through my depression and talked about everything with my nana. Only her because she could let me cry, so it was easy to spill my guts and she’d get me through it. The first time I talked it over with somebody from school, was bad. I felt lost and pissed off on how somebody handled it. Not me, of course. I have a good way of hiding things, or I use to. I got through it and I’m better at telling people without wanting to cry or think I’m a failure all the time.
When my nana and I finally got back on track because trust me, this wasn’t the only thing we talked about yesterday. She told me I want to look forward to something, something good and intact. Something that’s not going to break while I’m in the middle of it. That’s all I need. Everything from the past, I always knew something wasn’t right. I would get myself so low to the ground, knowing things wouldn’t work out. I was prepping myself for the rejection of not being good enough. Truth be told, I thought I was over these depression bubbles. I hate feeling like everything has gone to hell and nothing can get me out of it. Like, I told my nana I would have rather go through five days of it than four months. Talking about it and letting it all out on the table, works wonders too. Not everything is supposed to work out but seems like everything that comes around me never works out. Then I go back to my trusty sidekick from hell to help me out. Then after it does fade away, I have nana to talk out the rest.