My whole life I have had problems with making friends. I would become friends with someone on the last day of school then I would never see them again. I don’t think that I am not approachable. At least, I think that I am approachable? I could be wrong, but I am always nice to people. I just want to know if I am socially inept, or if people assume that I don’t want to talk to anyone? Why am I like this?! I want friends. Period. Don’t assume anything.
Here I am. In my bed at midnight. My sisters are across the room from me arguing about who is more messed up. Their bickering brings my blood to a low boil. Why is everything in life a competition? I am the only one in this house that has been sent away and put on medication, yet I don’t matter. With all of my insecurities and regrets I don’t feel much different here. Still just waiting on my happy family to suddenly raise from the dead. But they are all still fighting and glaring at one another as they pass through the kitchen. I just want to come home and not feel as if I am on my guard…if only my utopia would become my reality. Maybe tonight in my dreams it will.
I am a new Blogger. I have always wanted to blog, but I have never realized that the world of Blogging was so large and diverse. I wanted to write about my past, present, and future without my family and friends reading it. I have nothing hide, but I have never set myself out in the open so exposed before. I normally play it safe, and keep everyone happy. My insurance stopped covering for my therapy, and I always wrote in journals before to read to my therapist. But of course that was before I realized that my parents were reading it…stupid, huh? Yes, people will be reading this, but I don’t care what anyone thinks of me as long as you do not know my family. I have a reputation to withhold. I am the oldest, I am in college making straight A’s, I haven’t been in trouble with anyone since my freshman year of high school. I am inside of a shell. Banging against the walls hoping that one day I will be strong enough to crack it open and show the world who I am…Slowly, but surely it is happening..
In my case, the step child is black headed. Even though he has been in our family for nearly nine years, he still annoys me. He picks at my nerves until I explode. He never means to do this, I don’t understand how he does this, but it just happens. Like today, he says, “Angie, Frankie won’t take me to Hibbitt’s. Will you?” I said yes because I knew that it would only take a minute, but here I am 3 hours later avoiding him because I don’t want to take him to fucking store. How come it is so hard to accept a step child into your heart? I know that sounds messed up, but he still to this day makes me feel awkward and pissy..
We need everything around us in our environment in order to survive..