Today was a Friday, which is super great because I would not have lasted a full day tomorrow if today had been a Tuesday.
It was offensively cold in the morning, which meant I had to wear that big heavy coat with the (fake) fur hood, and carry said heaviness around with me all day.
I liked peer editing for our formal essay in English today, even though my friend JW, whom I traded essays with, didn’t have any editing tips for me. Lol. I didn’t mind though, I’ll just edit it myself.
I got all A’s on my first semester report card. Proud. Somehow managed to get a 97 on my geography final–and since it was a 100-multiple-choice exam, that means I only got three questions wrong. Don’t know how the fuck that worked out. I also got a 90 on my English exam essay, which was a hell of a lot better than I expected, seeing as that essay was shit. And a 100 for accounting, 96 for precal. (Didn’t take the three other subject exams).
I had a lot of fun finishing the pair project in computer programming with A. It was practically done anyway, so it was really fun just laughing with her about random stuff.
B (this little eighth-grader) in my precal class is always annoying as fuck, so today while he was trying to talk to me, I told him I had gone deaf. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD.” He said, “Well then, how do you know I’m talking to you if you’re deaf?” and I shouted, “OH MY GOD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE SAYING, I’M JUST LOOKING AT YOUR MOUTH MOVE AND ASSUMING THAT YOU’RE TALKING TO ME.” When he continued, I was just like, “What? What are you even saying right now? I’ve gone deaf, remember?” and he honestly just shut up–I’m guessing it’s because he didn’t know how to reply. Lol. It was fun just trolling him, since he insists on being rude to me all the time. He keeps asking me if I’m “triggered”, which makes me angry, because he’s misusing that word so blatantly and unashamedly.
Oh, and he also asks me why I’m “so salty.”
I was just chatting with my best friend from China……..I feel bad calling her my best friend, because we’re so far away from each other, and I’ll probably never see her again. Anyway, she filled me in on some of the stuff that has happened since I left. Changes, classes, some new relationship developments. It makes me painfully happy and painfully sad at the same time.
I miss having friends and lots of people to be around all day. Oh, I’m around people here, too, but it’s not entirely the same. It’s not the same as that dense, sometimes irritating, but simultaneously warming sense of being a part of a collected group of people. There’s not as much of that tiny community feeling. There’s lots of of school pride and college pride here, but I miss the feeling of class pride. Of complaining about teachers and classmates but getting irrationally, gorgeously defensive when someone else talks trash about the same exact things. I miss that.
I don’t know. I miss everyone. I feel so lonely all the time, so disgustingly desperate to belong with people, to be friends with them, to feel like I deserve a place somewhere. I don’t belong anywhere, haven’t belonged in a long time. The longest time. I so want to be a normal person with friends and stupid activities and stupid social media hobbies.
I hate the paradox in my personality that wants to be close to people, but is also awkward and clumsy and never knows how to be fun and happy and interesting around people.
I wish that, for once in my life, I could just feel completely happy and content with my life and my body and my personality. Honestly never felt that way before–not for longer than a day or two at a time, anyway. Always kind of despised my own behavior and face and habits and hobbies. Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m just a dumb and self-centered teenager. Fucking call me out all you want. Talk to me in that condescendingly no-nonsense tone that adults reserve for teenagers that are *obviously* not really sad, but just being stupid and ungrateful for the life that they have. Yeah, I don’t have it bad. You think I don’t know that? Know that there’s nothing in my life that I *should* be sad about? You think I don’t hate myself even more for being unhappy? I hate myself for hating myself and being unhappy.
I should pick up paper-journal writing again. I should write by hand more often. It releases more stress.
I should stop giving a shit about my ugly face. If puberty didn’t turn it pretty, then hating on it won’t, either.
I almost cried today when my English teacher told our class a story about……forget it, but he’s such a good teacher and person and sometimes I think that, if I had to talk to any adult about how I’m currently feeling–if I were ever supremely suicidal, more so than I already am some days, and I needed to talk to someone before I did anything stupid–I would choose to talk to him. Not my parents, not my siblings, not my counselor, not some stranger on 7cupsoftea, but my English teacher. Stupid, huh.
I should stop. I really should. I’m a mess. I don’t have time for this. I have a final essay to polish, twelve chapters of The Grapes of Wrath to read, a blog post to write, a physics free-response test to study for, a physics lab to prep for, a huge geography project to plan for and start, the SAT to review for. Fuck, I haven’t got time to be sad. I need to get into college. Jesus, what am I even doing here, I need to work so I can get into a decent college with a scholarship.
I hate myself so much, so often, already. I’d hate myself even more if I didn’t manage to even get into a good uni with a scholarship.
I am, after all, nothing if not ruthlessly practical.