So I moved in with her, had a great semester, but a horrible lacrosse season. Our team ended up going with an 0-17 season, the program's worst ever since the sport started at this school nine years ago. This year I'm hoping that the entire team will start playing and practicing with a more determined and more motivating attitude. We have the talent, we have the ability, we just don't have the drive. It's disheartening walking off a field after a game you know you should have won. I want my team to be proud of the work and effort that we put into lacrosse. We pour our hearts into the game, but unfortunately our love and passion for the sport cannot be directly reflected by our record. This year we're out to prove everyone wrong...and I hope that we do it. But I digress...
The year ended and all was just dandy. I was going to start working a week or two after I got back from school, as soon as I was added back to the schedule. And then, ten o'clock in the morning, Monday morning, last week of May, the phone rang while I was sleeping. I picked up the phone with a groggy hello and found that my dad's girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend, I don't know whats going on wtih those guys) was on the other line. Immediately my heart dropped...she was calling to tell me that my father was at Hartford Hospital, that he wasn't doing well, and that the doctor wanted to talk to his family. I asked her if my dad was going to die and she couldn't give me a solid answer. I knew that would happen...it was a feeling that I had had in my gut since he landed himself in the hospital during the summer after my freshman year. Hartford Hospital is about an hour, give or take, from my house...it was the longest hour of driving ever. I had called my mom and relayed the news to her before I left the house and she, in turn, had called my sister's school to let her know that dad was very sick and that my mom was going to have her leave early and meet her at home. I wouldn't wait for them in the house...my frame of mind had been that no one had told me that my dad would live the day, that his condition didn't look good, and so that translated to me as get to the hospital as fast as you can without hurting anybody so you can get there before he dies.
I got to the hospital and found my dad's room. I got there just in time to watch him be moved out- he was on his way to Neurological ICU. Deb (my dad's gf) was in the room and she filled me in. As I've said in past entries, my father has a very bad drinking problem and the alcoholism is taking over his life and has rendered him a much, MUCH weaker man than the father I grew up loving. My father quit his job (a very lucrative job) because his boss addressed his lack of productivity and effectiveness at work. My father had a job interview on Monday and so, he, having been on a drinking binge for two weeks (by binge I mean the big handles of Absolut Citron, multiples and daily) and sobered up for a day before the interview so he wouldnt be groggy. He went to the grocery store to get food, got out of his car in the parking lot, and had a seizure. The seizure was caused by alcohol withdrawls, because his body was so very dependent on alcohol his system was entirely shocked by the absence of booze in his system (so to all you people who do not think that alcoholism is a debilitating disease can totally kiss my ass and shove it up yours...its a bigger problem than you think). When he fell in the parking lot he fractured his skull and bruised his brain again (near a previous brain bruising injury from ten years prior when he was in a car accident). Someone nearby, I don't know who, called 911 and that is how my dad came to be at Hartford Hospital.
For the sake of brievity, I'll abridge the rest of that week. My dad didn't die. He was in NeuroICU for four days and was moved to a step down unit. The doctors thought that he would suffer permanent brain damage and prepared us for the absolute worst, more or less abandoning all hope. He ended up coming back to reality and out of the groggy in between conciousness world he had been in the first few days. He suffered severe short term memory loss, which seems to have improved greatly. While he was in the hospital his attorney, who is also my dad's best friend, drew up papers to have me named as Immediate Temporary Conservator, which would mean that if my father never returned to normal I would be the person in charge of making major decisions for him. When my dad was released from the hospital we tried to talk him into going to a 28 day, in-patient treatment program (like he had done two times before). He refused and it was at that point that I lost all respect for the man. Supposedly he's been sober since he got out of the hospital, but common sense and past experience won't allow me to believe this. He's doing better, he's healed better than anyone could have expected, and he's well aware that drinking again will be VERY damaging.
Now, for my sister's side of the story. The same week my dad was in the hospital was the last week of my sister's senior year of high school. I can only imagine the pain and suffering that she had to endure while going through the motions of high school monotony. That Thursday night my sister decided to go to a party with a couple of her friends. There was suppsoed to be a senior party for her graduating class (120+ all girls, its a catholic girl's prepatory school) but the person who was hosting it got into a fight with her mom and the party got cancelled. My sister instead went to a hotel party. Friday morning I woke up to my aunt. My sister was in a psychiatric unit at a hospital in New Haven and my mom was in the waiting room. My sister had gotten wasted at the party and had tweaked out on one of her friends who was being an inconsiderate asshole. Even though I dont like the kid, she did overreact, and the combination of our dad being in the hospital and her being drunk made her even more erratic. He called his mom, who called our mom (who also happens to be her best friend) and they went to the party to get my sister. From what I've heard my sister was swearing yelling and telling my mom that she wanted to kill herself and that she had been cutting herself. The doctors found the scars on her forearms. She was brought to the psych ward and went through psychological tests and shit. She was released Friday and came home. Mind you, my sister missed her last day of high school, which was also senior prank day. You know how sometimes you see someone hurt so much and you just want to do anything in your power to help them? There was nothing I could do. I was completely powerless and all I wanted to do was protect her while everything was falling apart. And that was my second week of summer vacation.
Now I'm in my senior year. I'm overloading and taking 19 credits. I am working 30 hours a week on campus. I am playing lacrosse. I am looking for an internship. And its the beginning of the school year and I'm already getting stressed. It wouldn't be so bad if I had all my friends here. My roommate is here, thank god...without her I'd be off the deep end by now. April of last semester I found out that one of my best friends found out that she was pregnant. So she's not here right now...she's taking classes at a local community college and is due in December. She plans on finishing her degree and is doing very well. My other friend is in Europe doing a program called "the walk across europe". She'll be back in November. Its just so weird not having those two busting through my door randomly or going to their houses to hang out on campus. Those two and my roomate are my college experience in three people...sometimes I feel like my heart was ripped out and stomped all over. But then other times I feel like everything will be ok and I'll get through things just fine.
Over the summer I talked to a counselor. I went once and I probably won't go again even though I probably should. She told me that I have a type A personality and that I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Isn't that just dandy?
So now I'm just bee-bopping through my senior year, tryingn to graduate with divisional honors and keep my spot on the Dean's Honors List. And i'm just hoping that my dad doesn't die and that my sister makes it through her first year of college just fine.
Only time will tell, until then I'll just have to sit and wait.
Carpe Diem people...
can someone please tell me in as basic terms as possible how I can make my own blog background. I see such cool blogs and have no idea how to do it myself.
thanks a ton! 
you are the cute but psycho happy bunny. You
adorable, but a little out there. It's alright,
you might not have it all, but there are worse
which happy bunny are you?
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Tuesday night was a good night- it was Jez's birthday. People were drinking, smoking, doing their own thing. I think there might have been ten of us just partying the entire night. Tuesday seems like a pretty random night to party...but I think its the random nights that prove to be the most memorable, dont' you? I absolutely adore my friends for everything that they are worth...everytime I remember Tuesday night I can always think of at least three things that make me want to burst out laughing (for example, jez flinging cake against the wall and writing her name in peanut butter cup....jez opening up her gift and seeing her CD player and hearing her say "OOOO....MMMM..GGGG"....crackhead climbing up onto the kitchen table to shake her grooove thang).
So yes, I have been having roomate issues, as shown in the last entry. I don't know what was up last night...i was so frustrated after leaving the bubble (aka the school's gym...its an airframe and looks like a huuuuuge bubble, thus its nickname). I ran a 7 minute mile (woo hoo!! and without the knee brace!!!), I did 200lbs on the leg press and I did a complete body work out. I should have felt great, but rather I felt like I wanted to crawl under a rock for a few days. If this keeps happening, I am going to go see someone at the counselling center. I have a feeling that part of my random bouts of depression are from living in my apartment. I'm not blaming my roomates exactly, but rather just the atmosphere. How am I supposed to react to living where I am when I feel like I am not wanted and totally shunned? It sucks, it really really sucks. I usually surround myself with people who enjoy being around me (hence the whole friendship thing...), but when I'm in my apartment, all I am surrounded by is animosity and bitchy people. That is, minus Nichole.
I absolutely adore Nichole. She seems wicked shy, but I swear to god she can give me a run for my smart ass money if she wants to. I am very quick with witty responses (I think it stems from my fat kid mentality...since I couldn't look good at least I could be referred to as: "What does she look like?" "Um, she has a great personality..."
, but sometimes the things that Nichole says just wow me. I wish that things in our apartment were different, but unfortunately both Stacey and I are confrontational and control freaks (although I swear to you I think Stacey is a bigger control freak...I honestly think that it pisses her off that she can't control me like she can the other people she hangs out with). Whenever I am in the apartment, I try and take a look to see if Nichole is there so I can see how her day is going and such. But I feel bad talking to her when the other two roomates are around because I really prefer going about my business as if they didn't exist at all (bitchy, yess, but saves me a lot of arguing). So when I go to say hi to Nichole in the apartment and act as if they other two roomates aren't there, I feel like I'm being that immature kid who tries so badly to make a point. But I'm not trying to make a point, I'm trying to have a conversation because by nature I am a social person, and being in a place where I am limited socially sucks. Does any of that make sense? So now I feel as if I am in the dilemma of talking to Nichole and making it seem like I am trying to be a huuuge bitch or not talking to Nichole, feeling like shit for not talking to her, feel like I am being a bitch to the only person in the apartment I really care to be around and make it seem like I don't want to talk to anyone in the apartment.
Egads...life will be much easier when housing won't require ResLife or roomates...
I'm in work right now. How much work did I do? I went to Wal Mart and picked up the stuff Dr. Nevious needed. Well, I picked up part of the stuff that Dr. Nevious needed...unfortunately our WalMart isn't very well stocked. And that's all I've done. Today just doesn't feel like its going to be a productive kind of day.
Liz's friend Josh is coming up tonight. She is trying to set us up....so he is driving from Worcester Mass to here to come chill with us and then he is going back down to Mass to be in work for 10...I feel bad, it would suck for him if he finds me utterly repulsive and then is forced to stay the entire night having a miserable time and loathing every minute he is up at FPC. Eek...I don't think that helped me feel any less nervous....
WHY AM I SUCH A DORK??
Hasta la Vista...I'm off to find another thing to distract me...
**If you are in a good mood, don't read this blog, cause I'm not**
So lets see...how long has it been since I've updated? I'm trying to think of what to write in here...
Lets start with the thing thats pissing me off the most..I've once again been blown off by my father. This past Sunday he was supposed come with Debbie to meet my sister and I for a play at my old high school. And guess what...he got drunk instead. Isn't that fucking wonderful? Nothing says I love you like speaking to your father thru the bottom of his fucking Absolut Citron bottle. I hate that he won't talk to me. I hate that he doesn't call me. I hate that he doesn't realize that he's a dick. I just hate it.
Let's see, what else? Oh yes, my roomate, fucking Stacey. Once again we get into a fight. What about this time? I asked her to clean up her mess. She thought I asked in a rude tone, I don't think I asked rudely in the least, i think she is just being hypersensitive and appalled at the fact that someone inferred that she is less than perfect. I hate living with her. Each day I wake up is like another day of hell. Because I'm living here, I don't see my other friends that much because they don't live on campus. So because I don't see them that much I really feel like I am drifting apart from them. I could drive to the condos and just be there, but when I'm there too long I feel like I'm in the way. If I'm not there enough, I feel like I am missing out on seeing my closest friends. I hate it here, I truly do. I can't wait for graduation. I can't wait to get my own apartment, a place where I don't have to worry about fuckin' roomates. I dont' even want to recap the argument that we had because I'm afraid that I am going to over-embellish shit that was said, so I'll just leave it alone. But I am going to talk to Res Life again, to see if they can notify me the second they can find alternative housing. Hopefully I can move to Lakeview, but who knows.
The thing I'm most pissed about with the argument is that I cried after. I didn't cry because of the douchebag, I cried because I am just SO frustrated!!!!! I hate being at school right now, I just want to move on. I want a career! And I'm tired of hearing that bullshit of "Enjoy it while it lasts, these are the best years of your life" blah blah blah. Some people really enjoy the hell out of school. I mean, I have a good time, granted, but some people just party 24/7. I want a job. I want to make a name for myself. I want to be able to afford a Super Size meal at McDonald's (if I so choose to eat that stuff). Being in college sucks sometimes....like right now.
I feel like I am being replaced. Tash has her friends up at UVM. Crackhead has Jez and her roomates. And I have Hammy the Hampster and a bitchass roomate. Yay for the short end of the stick. Woo hoo. It's as if everyone has someone to help them with their problems and I've got a blog that doesn't talk back to me. I dont' even write in this thing regularly anymore. This just sucks man.
I also feel like I have depression or something. Last night I was so ecstatic, psyched, pumped. Granted, we were doing a little drinking, but I felt more excited than drunk. I was just in such a great mood, I felt so awesome. Today, I feel like I am in this box. I can't get out, people can't come in, and it's as if people wouldn't want to be in here with me anyways.
I've been getting really down on my weight lately. For the past couple of weeks I've been trying to cut out everything from my meals. So far I've cut out breakfast and usually either lunch or dinner. One day I had a bagel for lunch and maybe a salad or something for dinner. I am tired of feeling overweight, and I would much rather get rid of all of it as soon as possible than wait for working out to do it on its own. I mean, I stil drink milk, I still drink water and when I know I am working out later in the day, I'll be sure to eat something with carbs and something healthy (like a light soup or salad) a few hours before hand so I have the energy to do my thing. I will probably skip dinner tonight, but I did have a sandwich and some salad earlier. Yesterday though, holy shit, I ate sooo much food. I am disgusted with it. I am fed up with it.
I am feeling entirely dissatisfied with everything that is happening in my life. Its as if everything is just bounding out of control and there is absolutely nothing I can do to keep it in place.
And lets not overlook the fact that I am coming to the realization that I am a control freak and probably anal retentive. Why do I feel like I need to be in control of everything??? Why can't I just do something without feeling like I need to fix it or improve it or take it over??? What the FUCK.
Liz is here...will continue later...
