F'htagn

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

No Mood For Thinking of Titles

Sorry about the minor freak-out I had in the last post. I'm not really sure what came over me. Having a bad morning, probably. I still haven't been getting much sleep, and it seems my mother's begun to notice. She's threatening to take my laptop away if I don't go to bed when I'm supposed to. She thinks that's all I do when I get home, chat with friends online. She doesn't realize how time-consuming all this IB homework is. She also doesn't seem to understand that I have no friends. Well, not compared to the friends she has, or the friends my brother has. All of my closest friends left after middle school ended and went to different high schools as me; some of them don't even talk to me anymore because they think their school is better than mine. Granted, it is. If only the 20- IB students in my school could be transported somewhere nicer than that inner-city dumping ground. All my other "friends" aren't very close; I don't see them outside of school, we don't hang out. I really only have one friend I can really call a friend.

Lately I've been really worried about her. She's had....problems for a long time--as long as I've known her, in fact. I can't really talk about it. She's been going to counseling for a while and it seemed she had finally gotten better. This last week, though, has made me reconsider. As little sleep as I've been getting, she's gotten even less; she's even told me she went an entire night without sleeping. She doesn't look like she's been eating lately, either. She's constantly gazing out the window. No one seems to notice. She gets her work done and her grades are on par with, if not better than, mine. But since the beginning of middle school when I first met her she was the only person who ever really "gets" me. That, or she just politely listens to all my insane ramblings and cynical points of view and my weird philosophical questions that can't seem to be answered by anyone and has never complained. Regardless, she's always kinda been there for me, and I really admire her for putting up with my bullshit for so many years.


If this keeps going I might go back to the adjustment counselor for a talk. I dont' want anything to happen.

My own counseling kind-of fell through. She never called my mother. I'm keeping up with the stress-relief exercises, but they're not doing much. Maybe if I just do what I'm supposed to everything will be okay.

TTFN.

5 comments:

  1. How long will ye vex my soul, and break me in pieces with words?

    These ten times have ye reproached me: ye are not ashamed that ye make yourselves strange to me.

    And be it indeed that I have erred, mine error remaineth with myself.

    Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud,

    God hath fenced up my way that I cannot pass, and he hath set darkness in my paths.

    He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone: and mine hope hath he removed like a tree.

    He hath also kindled his wrath against me, and he counteth me unto him as one of his enemies.

    He hath put my brethren far from me, and mine acquaintance are verily estranged from me.

    My kinsfolk have failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me.

    Yea, young children despised me; I arose, and they spake against me.

    All my inward friends abhorred me: and they whom I loved are turned against me.

    My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.

    Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me.

    Why do ye persecute me as God, and are not satisfied with my flesh?

    Oh that my words were now written! oh that they were printed in a book!

    That they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ever!

    And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God:

    Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me.

    But ye should say, Why persecute we him, seeing the root of the matter is found in me?

    ReplyDelete
  2. ⓧne by one they bite the dust,

    kick the bucket, begin to rust

    give up the ghⓧst when the number's up

    they all fall dⓧwn...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Job and Creature Feature. You definitely aren't the same person. Glad to see I noticed?

    Really, don't you have anything better to do? No one reads this. You're not getting anywhere with this.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You know GIRLIE I don't think you can take a hint. Mⓧre often than not, you'll fail to see the things in front of you and soⓧn, you'll fall too...

    ReplyDelete
  5. If we assay to commune with thee, wilt thou be grieved? but who can withhold himself from speaking?

    Behold, thou hast instructed many, and thou hast strengthened the weak hands.

    Thy words have upholden him that was falling, and thou hast strengthened the feeble knees.

    But now it is come upon thee, and thou faintest; it toucheth thee, and thou art troubled.

    Is not this thy fear, thy confidence, thy hope, and the uprightness of thy ways?

    Remember, I pray thee, who ever perished, being innocent? or where were the righteous cut off?

    Even as I have seen, they that plow iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same.

    By the blast of God they perish, and by the breath of his nostrils are they consumed.

    The roaring of the lion, and the voice of the fierce lion, and the teeth of the young lions, are broken.

    The old lion perisheth for lack of prey, and the stout lion's whelps are scattered abroad.

    Now a thing was secretly brought to me, and mine ear received a little thereof.

    In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men,

    Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake.

    Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up:

    It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying,

    Shall mortal man be more just than God? shall a man be more pure than his maker?

    Behold, he put no trust in his servants; and his angels he charged with folly:

    How much less in them that dwell in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust, which are crushed before the moth?

    They are destroyed from morning to evening: they perish for ever without any regarding it.

    Doth not their excellency which is in them go away? they die, even without wisdom.

    ReplyDelete