I'm just so tired...

Won't you sing me to sleep?
I don't know if it's the awful week or just that I'm worn out.  I am exhausted though.  No one stops to think: I get one day a week.  One day.  Everyone else gets two, sometimes three.  In her case, four.  And my one day is filled with homework.
And now, a fucking dinner party.  And a bratty kid's birthday party.


No one said I'm helping.

Get your precious Chelsea to help you.  You tune me out when  I talk, and I am sick of listening to the same bitching over and over.

Adam and  I will be gone.  


Good luck!

I love your love the most.

Another week gone horribly terrible.  Constant nightmares, bratty children, and a bitchy sister later I feel like I want to be dead.  I think of how sad other people's lives our and I feel guilty.  I have three four classes to make up.  I have a boyfriend that I don't think is the one.  My best friend is getting married and totally excluding.  And a family that excludes me.  I'm feeling dragged around, beaten, and washed up against a rock.  How do I pick myself up from here?

Speak but a whisper..

I have decided not to talk for a while.  I despise everything about my life right now.  Mother is an insufferable bitch.  It's very frustrating.  I wish to just not communicate with anyone in this house for a while.  She makes my life miserable.  He has not one intelligent word to say.  I'm done.

I'm leavin', never comin' back again...

Fight last night.  Again.  She lives on lies and hypocrisy.
And I'm always wrong.
And Chelsea is always perfect.

I had an escape today, but it fell through unfortunately.  I did discover though, I lost 9 pounds.  I am almost ten pounds lighter than I was two weeks ago.  I feel good about that.  It's been three days on Herbalife.  My pride wants me to say that I was eating healthily, just too much sugar.  I am Adventist after all.  However, I had gotten out of hand.  This is a nice way to control my excessive eating.  And, aside from how gritty the shakes are, it's delicious.  This  morning I had a peach mango smoothie.  Best shake yet!

I am trying to work on three things at once though.
1.  Getting to a size 14.
2. Not biting my nails
3.  My compulsive shopping.

Wish me luck!!

On another note, I miss my sister.  She's not Chelsea anymore.  I knew living together again would be a stretch, but she's just constantly a bitch.  And of course, I'm the one who's fault it is.  Last night, Rochelle took a picture of us.  "Pretend you like each other," she said.  Cindy interjected, "Well they do, they're good sisters." 

Correction, we were good sisters.  We hardly talk now.  And I feel like I'm constantly on thin ice with her.  It's like a second Mom in the house, except it's a mom that can't make me do stuff and that hates me.  It's very discouraging.

I found a very nice apartment today.  I figured it all out- if my parents would just give me access to the money they have saved for my college, I could move out and never come back.  I'd need roughly $48,000 to complete my education and live out of the house.  I'd have to work of course, but I have no problem with that.  I realize that's a huge amount of money, but that's for three years of room, food, and tuition.  And gas.  Honestly, that is the equivalent of one and a half years at ONU.  Which I could have chosen.  But they won't see it that way.  Although everything in my life has been done to please them, I am still ungrateful, a failure, and a bitch.

This is a poisonous and painful atmosphere.

I start college again Monday.  I'm happy about it.  It'll get me out of the house.  It makes me sick that I want to leave because I hate my parents so much.  And don't even play that, "Your dad is innocent," card.  BULL SHIT!!

Two night ago he stormed into the house after work.  "Hannah!  Where are my hat and gloves that were in the car?"
"I have no idea, Dad."
"Well, they were in there, and now they're gone!! What did you do with them?!?"

Let me just throw this in there:
1.  We have a box of hats and gloves in the closet.  If I wanted some, all I have to do is open a door.
2.  I never wear a hat.
3.  I have gorgeous, feminine North Face gloves.  Why would I want a pair of torn up, huge, leather work gloves?

"Dad, I haven't driven the car for a long time."
"Yes, but you still used it.  Did you leave it unlocked somewhere?"
(Because someone would steal a $2 hat and $10 gloves instead of 50 CDs or sunglasses.)
"The last time I was in the car, I didn't see them."
"Of course!"  (Like I'm lying, secretly hid them just to make him mad.)

Two minutes later he walked in and set the hat and gloves on the buffet.  They had been in the closet.
"Where'd you find them, Shawn?"  Mom asks.
"They were in the closet.  I didn't put them there!!!"


No apology.  No acknowledgment that he was wrong.  Nothing.  What kind of church has that as their elder?

A long time church friend called this week.  "Have you decided on a college?"

Seriously?  Seriously.

With your eyes closed...

I feel heartbroken.  Rather I feel like my heart is poisoned.  No guy has ever hurt me as bad as my parents do, and believe me, that's saying something.  I'd rather go back to that time when I was 15 and a guy who trying to take advantage of me than deal with this toxic waste that comes out of the mouth of my parents.  She just asked what I was doing.  I said I was blogging.  "Can I read it?"  she asks.  It's sweet.  But this is the only place I can bitch.  I got yelled at today for going in my own room where my boyfriend was sleeping to go get ready for church.  It was like I told her I was becoming a stripper.  Omg.  I do the exact same thing every weekend.  Go in my room, door open, do my make up.  It's not like we're having sex.  So that was this morning- a big huge fight.  Happy New Year.  Now we're all sitting in the family room watching football.  Chelsea's PMSing.  Shocker.  "Christian, give Chels the bed tonight." 
"She got it last night."
"Well, Chelsea, I'm just going to say this.  I don't care what goes on in that room, I just don't want to know about it.  Just don't have sex in this house."
I feel betrayed.  And I feel like my spiritual life is starving.  I have no real direction.

Diet starts Tuesday.



Bring.  It.  On.

Mean Girls

I hate pretty girls so much.  They make me so crazy.  I know it's just immature jealousy.  But I look at myself in the mirror and all I hear is, "Not good enough,"  "Trashy slut,"  "Who would want to date you?"  I know that my worth should never come from guys.  But I realize that there is a positive correlation between how many guys I talk to and how I feel about myself.  I had this burst of happiness a few years ago, and I find myself missing it.  It doesn't help that my sister is beautiful, my mom is critical and all my friends get hit on all the time.  It's not fair!
My boyfriend cares, he does.  But there are things he does when I know he's just trying to make me feel better. 
This is my problem, my problem inside, and I need to overcome it.

It's just not easy.

Sure, I can get an A++ on an exam and clean 15 cat cages in 45 minutes.

But that won't take me to the Kingdom.

Forgiveness..

It has not been a good vacation.  At all.  It's been stressful and annoying.  The weather has been gorgeous though.  Between the constant bitching and fighting, I quite frankly, have forgotten what I'm thankful for.  Really.  My family hates each other.  So I am thankful that half of them are flying back.  I don't really have anything to look forward to for school, except exams, so I'm thankful that break is soon.  I'm thankful that I have a home and a good Christmas coming. I'm thankful that I don't work Sunday.
On another note- I AM NOT A WHORE.  People got this idea in their heads that I was some slut after this guy tried to force me to have sex and full around with him.  It was my fault because I made myself available to him.  So now it's a common thought that I am a dirty skank.  Which is just wonderfully untrue.  In fact, I have only sucked three cocks in my life.  I have had sex with ONE person and I have only been eaten out twice, and even then it was like for less than ten seconds each time.  I don't enjoy it.  I am clean and on birth control.  I have been faithful to my "partner" every time, and for the past year and a half I have had one boyfriend.  We full around maybe once a month.  I feel bad for him, but like a retard, I chose to live at home.
So now I need to find a new college.  A place to live.  And most likely a new job.
I am swiftly sinking into despair.