Let's Be Honest

Life sucks. It really does, unless you have money, or you don't notice what's going on around you. You all must be thinking, "Another negative, depressing, ranting note from Michelle." Yeah, it is. I've just had the last blow in a day that started off badly, in a week and month that have been far from positive. If I were a violent person, I would have killed or seriously maimed someone by now. Luckily I'm not. I just need to get it all out. Or most of it, anyway.

It just seems like I'm watching my life do something like "Whee... falling... back up! up! down... down... up a little... whee... SPLAT!"

(I'm in a slightly better mood than I was when I first started this note. There was a glimmer of hope in Alex's message about going to Brainerd this weekend.)

But, yes. The splatting bit. It has just been a bad month/week/and especially day. I might as well say what I think, and not dance around it. Some people may be annoyed by it, but... Oh well. It started out near the end of spring break, when Pat and I broke up. I was surprisingly fine the day it happened, considering trying alcohol the day afterward to see if being happily oblivious would be fun. (I wouldn't actually do it, don't worry. No idea where I'd get alcohol, anyway.) The next few days were decent. The first week afterward I survived, thought a lot, but was fine. I was actually fine and doing well for the most part until the end of last week. Thursday, I think. A few things triggered thoughts, and I curled into an emotional ball again. Luckily Sara knows how to distract me and make me feel better.

He said that he still wanted to be good friends. Do they all say that? The only contact we've had in about a month is one set of posts on each other's facebook walls. He didn't even wish me a happy birthday. We go out for over a year, and then he forgets I exist. I can't decide if it's better or worse this way. It's kind of cruel, or at least I think so. I'm not this bitter most days. It's just a really bad day.

This weekend was pretty good. Celina came to keep me company, and then Jessy and I hung out a lot and tried to go on spontaneous adventures. I knew Saturday was prom in Brainerd, and that if things had worked out differently, I would have been there.

Yesterday Amanda told me about what she'd seen at Grand March on Saturday. It kind of depressed me, until I learned a bit more from Nick through Sara.
Today, though... My day started off with me opening Facebook, seeing pictures from prom posted in friends' albums, and blithely clicking into one specific album. There was one picture in particular that I saw that made me very, very close to crying. Only the thought that I had to be in class in 15 minutes kept me from dissolving into tears.

Now, my logical self knows that there are good, innocent reasons behind it. I doubt they were specifically trying to hurt me. Well, they probably didn't even think about me, actually, which may or may not be even more depressing. Unfortunately, the psycho-emotional Michelle tends to win these mental arguments more often. She is stronger and more compelling than logical, reasonable and understanding Michelle. I'm overreacting, and I know it. But I can't help it. Any female that isn't heartless would probably feel the same way. Not that that justifies it, but still.

I know, mentally, anyway, that I'm better off single. It was miserable the last few months, to be honest. Now I have less to deal with, but there are still doubts, nagging thoughts, wonderings... I won't go into that, though.

I was just starting to feel better when my parents called a while ago. They started off the conversation saying how glad they were that I was coming home this weekend, was it Friday at 10 when they'll be picking me up? And then they asked if they could borrow a few dollars for gas money. Yeah... I don't blame them. They've got half a tank of gas and $15 to last them until next Thursday. They can't afford a trip down here to get me, no matter how badly they want to see me and I want to go home.

And I really, really want to go home. There's just something nice and comforting about it. I haven't been home in about a month. I think that's the longest I've gone. I was looking forward to going to the play this weekend, seeing friends, just being in Brainerd.... But, no. No home for me. At this point I actually did start crying.

Not only was I thinking about how I was denied my visit home, but how much my parents' lives must suck not having any money at all, and having to disappoint me by telling me no. And then... I may have to help them get by this summer with whatever I make, which means I won't be able to save money to pay for school next year, or anything else I need... And how much the world sucks for people who don't have money, and how poverty is a vicious cycle, and that I'm never going to rise above it and probably have to drop out of school and get a job and be no better than my parents... and, and... *screams*

It's just one of those days where everything seems hopeless and pointless. Everyone has them. Today just happened to be the day when everything hit me at once and I collapsed. I want to give up, but know there are still good things in my life, and that it will get better. I hope. It has to.

I'll stop now. There's more I could write, but if I want to retain a shred of sanity, I should probably just stop thinking about it.