I think I’m going to do a bit of a diary entry because I don’t know what my thoughts are doing.
February 23, 2012
Today was Janelle’s birthday. She was so kind to get me a present on my birthday earlier this month, so I would feel wrong if I didn’t return the favor. I got her a stuffed animal, a bag of gummy bears, some chocolate, and a pack of gum. She was very appreciative, which made me happy because I had bought it with my own money. She told me, “You’re the only one that got me a present, and I love you for it. Thank you.” I asked her, “Didn’t your parents get you something?” I know that her parents are pretty awful, and I feel bad for her. Last I heard, they were threatening not to even let her celebrate her birthday. She said, “My mom took me to the store earlier this month and had me use my own money to buy some clothes. Then, she took them from me and returned them to me this morning as my present.” I’m so grateful that my mom isn’t like that.
We ran in gym today because it’s a Thursday. I felt like I was disgusting everyone because I wore shorts and I have a horribly scraped knee. Plus, I didn’t wrap up my injured hand in a bandage, so that was on display, too. My brother Michael asked me what happened to my hand yesterday, and I told him, “I fell playing kickball.” and he said, “So you have a hole in your hand. You look like you’ve been crucified.”
That didn’t make me feel too great.
On another note, my niece, Elizabeth Lynn, is coming home tomorrow. She is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. She looks a lot like Michael. She has a full head of jet black hair already, just like his, and she’s only two days old. She had fluid in her lungs when she was born, so they took her to the NICU. I got to see her, but wasn’t allowed to touch her because it would irritate her and she’s sensitive. It was so hard to restrain myself, because she looked adorable. I look forward to holding her tomorrow. If Michael doesn’t let me, I’ll just bite him until he says okay.
We also had an Odyssey meeting today. We met up around the table with our coach, Crystal, and my mom. Crystal enforced a “rule”, that there will be no “inappropriate touching”. Why do I feel like Kristin ratted myself and James out for holding hands during that one meeting. I only said okay because it was so sweet that he asked if he could. I’m not a fan of PDA, and it’s not like we were groping each other. He. Held. My. Hand. Oh, and Kristin and Justin “revised” the script for our skit.
They took out like three of my lines. Lines that I liked.
I think it’s because she’s mad at me or something. I don’t know, she just throws me dirty looks and talks down to me and just doesn’t like me anymore. Of course she wouldn’t take out her own lines. My lines mean nothing to her if she can’t stand me. That may not have been her thought process, but I know that you’d have to beg her to take one of her lines out and she had no problem taking out mine.
Of course I didn’t say anything. I didn’t dare start anything, but from my expression, my mom said that for a second there, she thought I just might stand up, flip over the table and yell, “Bitch, you cut out a bunch of my shit! I wrote it! I wrote the whole fucking thing and you have the balls to leave me with five lines?” She also said that I would’ve been in big trouble if I had actually said those things. I don’t doubt it.
Alyssa and I were looking over our lines (after Kristin spat at us to be memorizing them; I had almost said, “What lines? You cut out my lines.”) and talking, and Kristin says to Britt and Justin, loud enough for us to hear, “…and they’re standing there doing nothing while I put together the set…” I couldn’t take it after ignoring it for so long, and said, “If you’re going to talk about us, please do it quietly.” That’s a little nicer that I would have liked, but it’s what happened. She just shot me a dirty look and turned away. I was so irritated and I still am.
I can’t calm down to the point where I want to cut now just to…silence my thoughts and diffuse the anger. I refuse to slash at my arms right now. The last time left me with these horrible scars that aren’t fading. I don’t need more right now. They’re enormous and ugly and obvious.
I hope tomorrow brings less irritation.
Kiss my Dementor.
0 Days Strong
