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- ... February 18, 2006
hate living here. i've spent the last two weeks smiling like mad, and if you know me, this means i am at my peak of dangerous insanity. i don't naturally smile all the time unless i am getting too close to going over the edge. also, i can't stop laughing when i'm really scared and i sob uncontrolably when i'm really angry. it's always been this way for me.
because of my unusual expressions for emotions, i got in the habit of keeping them very, very suppressed. people don't understand why you can't stop laughing when they're scared of something and YOU should be scared of it, too. they think you're laughing at them for being scared. people think you're weak if you sob uncontrollably when they're expecting you to be yelling at them. it's funny about that, too. i never FEEL sad when i angry-sob. i WANT to yell. i want to raise my fists and beat someone up, but through the sobs, the snot, the tears, the chest muscles contracting, it's all i can do to breath. i smile like a maniac when i'm most unhappy. and i've been smiling for two weeks straight now.
trust me, i KNOW that supressing emotions is a straight and narrow path to the nut-house, but expressing your emotions incorrectly can be a short-cut to that selfsame nuthouse, as well. people don't understand. if i can't have normalcy, whatever THAT is, i'll take funtionality. i suppress so that i can at least function, for now. the biggest problem with suppression is that, eventually, you DO have to let the pressure off, let the trapped steam escape, or you end up with a messy explosion. i've been putting off the pressure dump too long. trying to defer when i would let all those bottled emotions go for a time when i wasn't forced to depend on my parents for a job, for a home, for a car. they get REALLY upset just seeing me frown. they make me explain every tic and twitch that looks like it might indicate i feel something negative. i HAVE to smile all the time. i HAVE to convince them i'm happy or they make me explain and explain and explain why i'm NOT sad, NOT needing medical attention, NOT going crazy. the explaining is what is MAKING me crazy. i can't tell them i'm bored with my job, my living arrangements, my stifling lack of nearby friends or even acquaintances. i need medications that are expensive and without these medications, i would be dead in less than a week. i can't afford to buy these meds on my own. i need my parents right now, or i die. there is not really any other option, or i'd be doing it, right now. tried real work, bad economy got me laid off, tried college, but without the financial support that the government and college expected of my parents, with my parents refusing to get a parent loan or even co-sign on a bank loan for me, i simply didn't have enough money to live well enough to concentrate on something like school. i starved, i had to go every other day on my medication. they said, "we told you so." when i had to come crawling back to them, needing my medication, needing food, half dead. i thought "you told me i'd fail and you made it so by not helping me, " and then i smiled and SAID, "yeah, you did tell me so." what could i say? when you're crawling back to someone, you HAVE to let them be right, you HAVE to play the part of the repentant prodigal son if you want to get fed and not tossed out on your ass.
the only reason i'm even IN this situation is because my mom raided my savings account when i was a kid. by the time i was 10, i had 6,000 saved up. 10 years of birthday and christmas and easter money, of coin change i'd picked up off the street, whatver. all of that was there, $6k. my mom needed it because she'd gone too deep into debt in her efforts to keep up with the joneses and now the business suddenly wasn't doing so hot. told me she'd pay it back. never did. lost my heart to save after that. would have had twice the ammount of money i need to pay off my current student loans if she'd paid me back. would be debt free. would have my degree and be working a real job by now.
but now the only option is to enter into the family cancer...i mean business. the business already sucked my poor dad clean and dry of his creative instinct. now, they want to let it do the same thing to me. they want to trap me here in the midwest, working in a one-horse watch and jewelry repair shop, where most people's idea of custom designed, creative, original jewelry is picking out the stone (a diamond or cheap colored stone) and the already made-up mounting/ring (yellow gold, 100,000 pieces made) from a supplier catalogue. i think they secretly enjoy it when me, with my partially completed college education that they advised so heavily against, has to vaccume the floor, windex the display cases, change watch batteries like any trained monkey could do.
i'm going crazy. my parents need to realize what they're doing to me. i really don't think they've thought too deeply about why they do things like refuse to help me go to college. they say, "we WANT you to go to college, but why don't you try taking one class at a time?" yeah. and graduate just in time that it'll be time to retire. I'M 23, NOT 18. I'm getting too fucking old to be messing around with one class at a time. I'll be fucking 35 when i graduate! NO!
that's it, where's my gun. i'm going on a shooting spree.
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