I’m working on a creative writing assignment and it’s asking me what my writing voice is like. If you would, click over to my blog and read a few posts and see if any adjectives come to mind. Sorry for any depressing content, it’s my recovery blog where I journal, which means it’s probably the most honest depiction of my writing voice. I have over twenty followers, and would love to hear from at least five of you! Would you help me with this as I strive to discover more of who I am as a writer?
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.
Or maybe I should have brought it up a long time ago.
A part of me feels like this needs to end.
A part of me feels like I’ll end up with him.
I’m not desperate, Mom says.
I shouldn’t settle, Angel says.
I feel desperate, I say.
But I don’t want to settle.
I want to kiss him.
I want to leave him.
I want to love him.
I want to love myself.
I don’t need to hear ‘you are guilty.’ I need to hear ‘you are valuable.’ Because I feel like a worthless piece of shit.
So I realized today that I can’t move out unless my parents let me.
I have a job interview tomorrow. That job would pay enough for me to move out, except for health insurance.
My parents would still have to cover health insurance in order for me to move out.
I thought, if they refused to pay it (which would be awfully manipulative cause they pay health insurance for all of my other siblings) I could just pay the fine for not having insurance and move out anyway.
Except I can’t.
I have depression, and my anti-depressants are what keep me functioning as well as I do now, which is surprisingly well. With insurance, those drugs cost me $45 a month. Without insurance, it would cost me over $1000.
So I literally cannot NOT have insurance. It is a necessity of life. So if my parents decided to pull the bit that they did last time I wanted to move out and say “I guess you’re ready to cover all of your expenses then,” then I’m screwed.
If I get this job, I can only move out of my parents’ house if I have their blessing.
Please someone tell me I’m wrong. Please.
Working through Daddy issues in my counseling homework. Damn this sucks. :.(
**I DO NOT OWN SWEENEY TODD**
Okay so the comparison is a bit dramatic and over the top, but this is how I’ve felt today. I didn’t go out of town to see berlockholmes and angeldrkfire this weekend as planned and I’ve just been feeling all cooped up ever since. I mean, not going was a wise decision as far as finances and time management were concerned, but not as wise of a decision when it came to my sanity.
You know what, though? This song is accurate in that when I’m here, when I’m “home,” I don’t feel like I can sing. I save my practice time for when my parents are gone. Then I can sing freely. I can perform in front of a church filled with 200 people, but can’t practice comfortably in my own home. Which is why I plan to get out. And it won’t involve a cute/creepy/stalker guy to help rescue me, lol.
My dad actually apologized for fussing at me last night (what triggered my dream about confrontation). I can’t say it was refreshing…it was surprising. It made me cry. I’m glad he apologized, but…I guess knowing that I’m going to get fussed at again later, with or without an apology, kind of makes it surreal to me. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just apologized again for accidentally scratching the wood floor.
I dreamed last night that I finally confronted my parents about all the things they do and say that make me feel like shit.
Not really feeling the Mother’s Day spirit this morning.