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I totally managed to connect to the internet via PSP. At my dad's. >D
The catch? Very weak signal, and no time to do anything w/ it. x_x
The catch? Very weak signal, and no time to do anything w/ it. x_x
Apr. 28th, 2006
(no subject)
Apr. 28th, 2006 06:03 pmI've always considered myself a linguist. Words are what I know best, after all. They're the tool I use to express myself, to make my thoughts into tangible reality. But why do they have to fail me when I need them most?
I decided to come over to my Mom's early this week. I didn't consult with my Dad about it, because I figured he wouldn't approve. I just got a call from Kris asking me why I came over.
I wanted to tell her the real reason. That I was tired of the way he handled things, and I wanted to prove that I could dig myself out of the hole I'm in in school without his help-- something he wouldn't ever let me prove. But when it came right down to it, what came out of my mouth?
"I wanted to."
DAMMIT. Where did THAT come from!?
I was put on the spot, I guess, and I got afraid. Like always. I got nervous and couldn't think. So, my words failed me. Like they always do.
I can NEVER say what I want to to either of them. I don't GET it. All the words are here in my mind. I want to tell them that I think they're treating me like a child, that I can be better if they let me, that I'm more than they think I am. But my own nerves won't let me. I stand in his shadow, and my gift leaves me. And so, he's left with his half-assed perspective of what kind of a person I am reinforced. What am I supposed to do!?
I hate it. There's nothing more stifling to me than lacking words. That may come as a surprise to some people that know me-- I'm not exactly the talker, after all-- but that only means I ration my words. I only use them when they count, and I use them to the best effect I can manage. But when I want to stand up to my Dad and Stepmom, I lose that ability. And it's sinking me deeper in with them.
The problem, I think, is the fear. I'm afraid of what they'll think. If I tell them everything that's on my mind, will they listen? Or will they knock my ideas down, like they always seem to do, and ridicule me for being thick-headed and childish? I don't know. But that's what I'm afraid of.
My Dad's probably home by now. Kris will have told him what I said. I'm waiting for his call, asking me to explain myself. And I don't know what to do.
I decided to come over to my Mom's early this week. I didn't consult with my Dad about it, because I figured he wouldn't approve. I just got a call from Kris asking me why I came over.
I wanted to tell her the real reason. That I was tired of the way he handled things, and I wanted to prove that I could dig myself out of the hole I'm in in school without his help-- something he wouldn't ever let me prove. But when it came right down to it, what came out of my mouth?
"I wanted to."
DAMMIT. Where did THAT come from!?
I was put on the spot, I guess, and I got afraid. Like always. I got nervous and couldn't think. So, my words failed me. Like they always do.
I can NEVER say what I want to to either of them. I don't GET it. All the words are here in my mind. I want to tell them that I think they're treating me like a child, that I can be better if they let me, that I'm more than they think I am. But my own nerves won't let me. I stand in his shadow, and my gift leaves me. And so, he's left with his half-assed perspective of what kind of a person I am reinforced. What am I supposed to do!?
I hate it. There's nothing more stifling to me than lacking words. That may come as a surprise to some people that know me-- I'm not exactly the talker, after all-- but that only means I ration my words. I only use them when they count, and I use them to the best effect I can manage. But when I want to stand up to my Dad and Stepmom, I lose that ability. And it's sinking me deeper in with them.
The problem, I think, is the fear. I'm afraid of what they'll think. If I tell them everything that's on my mind, will they listen? Or will they knock my ideas down, like they always seem to do, and ridicule me for being thick-headed and childish? I don't know. But that's what I'm afraid of.
My Dad's probably home by now. Kris will have told him what I said. I'm waiting for his call, asking me to explain myself. And I don't know what to do.
