I honestly don't understand

My parents are worried about the relationship I'm in because I'm "isolating [my]self from friends and family," but when I make an attempt to hold a conversation, there is no response. Apparently my mom had surgery recently...they decided not to tell me until after the fact, and I still don't know what the surgery was for. I myspace messaged my brother, because I miss him and wanted to talk, but he read it and didn't respond (I only know that because myspace indicates the action taken on messages.)

There is nothing wrong with my relationship with Wesley. We are in love, are extremely happy together, and he only wants the best for me. I talk to my dad and my aunt. If anyone is isolating themselves, it's my mom and stepdad. They make no attempt at a relationship, and if they would listen to me and give me a chance to explain some things, I would be much more willing to talk to them. As it is, every time I have talked to my mom, she ends up hanging up on me. My personal favorite is when she gives me a laundry list of problems, but I'm not allowed to respond, because she doesn't want to play the "back and forth game." I don't want to play that game. I just want a chance to defend myself against some glaring mistakes in logic. (Wesley got in a fight with his sister, ergo, he will start hitting me. By that logic, my brother will be an abusive partner too).

It's not that I don't want a relationship with my family. I just don't think I have any reason to put up with this, and I really don't think they have any right to treat me the way they have.

I have nothing left to lose

I have been officially cut off from my family, by my family.

It started with the health insurance. My mom saying someone had been using my name to get prescriptions (she knew full well that it was me) and cut off the flex card.

Now, my cell phone has been disconnected. Congratulations, Mom, you have officially cut off your last line of communication with me. Don't expect to hear from me unless I'm dying.

It hurts, though. I'm 18, almost 19. I just got engaged (btw, we're engaged :D). I should be able to call my mom in one of my happiest moments and have her be happy with me. I should have my mom to help me plan my wedding. I should be able to go to her with anything. But I can't, because she decided to "teach me how to be independent." I didn't realize cutting me off from my family was teaching me that. And last I checked, you were upset because I was cutting myself off.

To the dick who hacked my email and facebook.

FUCK YOU.

41

I was in the hospital on Friday. Wesley stayed with me, and when he went to get some dinner (didn't know how long I'd be there, and I'd already been there for 6 hours), he went home and discovered that his brother had taken a pack of cigarettes he had hidden.

Today, I went to find something in the bathroom, and found my pill case. That pill case had one klonopin in it when I last saw it; now it is empty. The pill case was in a Coach wristlet inside of my purse. Wesley would have asked me for it; he has before, and I'm fine with giving them to him when he needs them. However, when I went to the doctor last, he wrote me a scrip for five pills so that I'd have them if I needed them before I could get to a psych. Wesley has taken two of them, I've taken one. I now have none left. The only reason I can think of that they would be gone is Wesley's brother. I know he was in our room that day, and I know he took something out of our room.

Whoever took them needs to know this. They invaded my space by coming into my room in the first place (and on a day I was in the hospital, no less!) and went through my things; including my purse (WHO DOES THAT?!). It isn't about the medication that they took (although, I have no idea what I'll do if I have a panic attack between now and my psych appointment on the second). I know, it costs very little to get on the street. The problem is that whoever did this invaded my space and my privacy and the one place I thought I could leave my things and have them be safe. That is not okay. Apparently, I cannot have anything prescribed to me that can be used as a street drug, because unless I have it on my person at all times, it will disappear.

Fuck that.

40

I really, honestly thought that the new drugs were working. But from the past week or so, I've had random bouts of depression and anxiety. I could attribute it to PMS, but I really don't think that's what it was. Usually I just get really frustrated with myself, and it's really hard to say this, but I have been suicidal. I would never act on anything, but I have been. Wesley was sleeping the other day, and I knew there was a razor blade in the room (he had used it to split a pill). I kept telling myself I didn't want to, and didn't need to, but I hate this. I can't feel anything, and that's why I used to cut. Self-inflicted pain was better than no feeling at all. So, yeah, I cut myself. Just once, on my calf. I know there is no reason for it, and it doesn't solve anything at all, but I needed to feel something.

That scares me.

39

Facebook allows me to see all my friends' pictures from their escapades in college. This morning, I logged on, and there were pictures from an ex-friend's party. It's entertaining to see that everyone has turned into exactly what I figured they'd be. C is a victim of the freshman fifteen, and looks kinda jaundiced and albino at the same time. She looks like a drunk, and she is. KL has become the ASU bleach blonde do-anything-for-a-beer that I hoped she wouldn't, but knew in the back of my mind she would. L is just a ho, the boys are the same, with more alcohol, and BandJ are as adorable as ever. B has really grown up...she's fucking gorgeous. 

What really kills me about this scenario, and the pictures, isn't that they've willingly tagged themselves in the same pictures as open beer cans and holding party cups looking completely trashed. It's the fact that they haven't left high school. They still hang out with the same friends, party at the same house (but now the parents don't care that there's alcohol, they probably buy it), and have the exact same drama. Wasn't there a point where we all said we wanted to escape high school and make some new friends, have a new outlook and a new life? I would have been invited to that party, had I been in Gilbert, and if I hadn't had the past year, I probably would have gone. But I realize now that it is the exact same shit over and over again. It'll never change.

38

I sat down to write because I couldn't sleep. Granted, it's not even 10. Why would I be sleeping? I got up at 7:30 this morning. I know, I know, pigs are flying, hell is freezing over. Anyway. I realized that it's been a good 3 weeks since I wrote anything here, and figured all my faithful readers out there would be disappointed that I hadn't updated lately. Okay, who am I kidding? I am the only person who reads my blog. 

Apparently, I am unemployable. One of the things that really gets to me is establishments insisting on an applicant having experience, but they know that every place demands the same. So it's the same damn thing, who knows why or how anyone gets hired, since no one will give anyone a chance to gain retail/food/customer service/arbitrary experience. So, I have no experience, no job, and no resume. That's awesome when it comes to apply for a job.

Last week, I applied for a credit card, thinking I could buy a bed with it (twin bed, two people over 6 feet tall just does not work) and start building some credit. Today, I get a letter, "regretfully declining" my application because--I shit you not--established a credit history. Seriously. DUH. I'm 18. How do I do that without getting a credit card and being responsible with it? It makes me want to shoot someone. Honestly.

Just the past three weeks have been overwhelming and stressful and AHHHH. The move down was pretty uneventful (I am only two trashcans lighter, everything else fit), but it took us about two weeks to get all my stuff unpacked...and once we got all my crap unpacked, we got fed up with sleeping in a twin bed, so we set up the futon right next to the bed, and it looks just as cluttered all over again. But there's the job hunting. The walking around and the buses and the applications and the crazy people and the sun and the dehydration and the pain and sometimes I want to give up, just say fuck it and tell my mom she was right and go home. But she isn't. I will prove her wrong.

37

Struggling to keep my eyes open. Maybe a quick nap before the chamber recital?

As an aside, once this recital is over, I'm done. Completely done, since I already submitted my online final.

YAY.

36

Well, that was fun. I wrote 2/3 of my final research paper between the hours of 10 pm and 8 am. I took a 3 hour nap (went to sleep at 4, intent on getting back up at 5, instead woke up at 7), and drank 2 venti non-fat caramel macchiatos (THANK GOD FOR STARBUCKS) PLUS a vanilla doubleshot. Yeah, I'm still pretty awake. Somehow, I can kinda function on 3 hours of sleep. Here's hoping I'm awake enough for my jury (I will probably experience a crash of epic proportions around noon and sleep until the chamber recital).

Note to self: No matter what happens today, the sleep you do or do not get, you MUST be awake by 7 tomorrow. Keep that in mind.

Number Three

on my list of Things That Bug the Crap Out of Me.

Stupid people who hang out in the lobby of the dorm at 2:20 in the morning and make it nearly impossible for the rest of us to do what we need to (homework/study) without waking our roommates. 

35

You know you've got a good thing going on when you hang up the phone and your first thought is 

"I love him so much."

:D

Number Two

on my list of Things That Bug the Crap Out of Me.

My family and their avoidance of important topics, except for the convienient dropped comment that is impossible to respond to at any length. 

Yeah...

I need to get the thoughts down for when I actually talk to my mom.

Mom,

I understand you have concerns. You're my parent, that's your job. But I wish you could have given me a chance to explain my choices before you make an assumption. I am not moving to Tucson because of Wesley. I am not changing schools because of him. 

I'm changing schools because I am miserable at NAU. I'm changing schools because after I decided to change my major, I looked at what my options were at NAU, and none of them interested me. This school is good for music (sort of), education, and forestry, and I do not want to pursue any of those. Aside from that, a degree from NAU is not going to be as respected as a degree from a highly respected research university, and in this economy and job market, I need all the help I can get.

As for my plan? Honestly, I don't know yet. I know I want to explore my other interests, and as of now, I'm leaning toward psychology or political science. I also know that looking at the course catalog excites me more than the idea of any class at NAU ever did. I'm excited to learn again, and that has to be worth something.

I know you don't think I've put enough thought into this decision, but I can assure you that I've put more thought into this change than I probably put into coming to NAU in the first place. As for the scholarship/financial support...I would've lost my scholarship as soon as I stopped taking classes toward a music major, so that just wasn't a factor. Yes, UofA's tuition is marginally more expensive than NAU's, but housing and meals will be a fraction of what they were this year. Half of the rent for an apartment (~$300/month) and food will be so much cheaper than the $6500 we paid for a dorm and meal plan. Obviously it's not going to be easy, and I'm not counting on it being easy. In fact, I'm sure it will be one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I'm actually looking forward to it. I want this challenge.

The reason I left on Wednesday morning without talking about it was that I was extremely upset, and I didn't feel it was appropriate to discuss it in front of Kenny. I was also concerned that I would overreact and say something that would make the situation worse. But I will address your concerns about Wes. 

~He does not have any of my email passwords. He knew the password that unlocks my computer because he used it while he was here and it just got annoying passing the computer back and forth so I could turn it on.

~Wesley is not isolating me from my friends and family. In fact, it's the exact opposite. He is the one that tried to get me out of my dorm room and to go out with friends. Wesley is the person that convinced me I needed to get out of bed and go to class when I was too depressed or anxious to do anything. This would be an extremely valid concern if it were true. If you have specific examples, I'd love to hear them.

~Wesley is not on a conditional release from prison (parole), he is on probation. He meets with his probation officer monthly and does community service to meet the requirements set by the judge that heard his case.

~By your reasoning, Kenny will also turn out to be an abusive partner, since everyone that hits their siblings turns into a wife beater.

~I encounter more second hand smoke walking in and out of Cowden than I ever have at Wes'.

~He used to smoke, and yes, he drinks, but he's old enough. He doesn't drink to excess, at all. In fact, he hardly ever drinks. There is no peer pressure involved, and honestly, it doesn't matter if there was, because if I wanted to drink or smoke weed, I could get my hands on it with just a phonecall or two. I'm in college. Legality is not going to stop anyone if they want it.

~He's never tested positive on a drug test while he's been on probation.

~There is a difference between wanting and needing, but honestly, I'm not sure he didn't need a beer. What you didn't see while we were sitting in that theatre full of people (literally, completely full) was Wesley having a panic attack. You're right. He probably is self-medicating, but that's only because he doesn't have the medication he needs or the means to get it. As for drinking on medication, you drink, more than he does, and I know you're not supposed to on Topamax (lower seizure threshold), and I'm pretty sure that goes for any anti-depressants.

~I know he has a fantastic sense of humor. That is one of the reasons I love him. Did you ever think for one moment that it may have disappeared because he was so nervous around you and Dwight? He wanted nothing more than for the two of you to like him, and as far as I could tell, was on his best behavior all weekend.

Honestly, it doesn't matter to me whether or not you approve of my relationship. You have raised me to be a competent, contributing adult, and you did a pretty damn good job of it. I know I'm the oldest, and I'm sure it's hard to let go, but you need to. You need to let me be the adult you've raised me to be. I won't ever learn if you won't let me make my own decisions and realize the outcome of those decisions. Right now, it seems to me that giving Wesley a chance is one of the best decisions I've ever made. No, he isn't perfect, but neither am I. No one is. I can't choose who I fall in love with based on some petty criteria you want me to follow. It doesn't work that way. I just wish you could see how happy he's made me over the past nine months and be happy for me.

34

Well, after far too long perusing other people's blogs, I figured it was time to update my own. One of my biggest problems is the existence of blogs. I swear, I read a couple of politics blogs daily, but those two blogs turn into two blogs and all the articles and other blogs they link to. I've pretty much come to accept it, so it's time to announce it to the world. I'm an information whore. I will click any relevant link, and I utilize the research databases that the university library grants us access to for fun. Wesley loves stats, and I am absorbing it like a sponge (for the most part) I read textbooks for fun. I love watching the news. I actually read newspapers. Every morning. I feel much more intelligent and informed after I read the news, and it makes me sad that physical, tangible newspapers are going under in favor of the digital whatever. What's next? My books? Hell to the no. I can't read a book on a computer (although, I really, really want a Kindle. That'd be awesome like nobody's business). I've always been an avid reader--there is never enough time for me to read like I'd like now, but I try my hardest to make time.

Okay, yeah, that's enough of my tangent...the point of this post to follow.

I have officially finished my first year of college. How crazy is that? It feels like it was just yesterday when I started this blog, but really, it was almost a year ago now. It seems like everything has just sped by way faster than I wanted, even the weeks that seemed to drag on. I'm kinda conflicted on whether or not to start a new blog, because, honestly, nothing about this one (aside from the posting, obviously) is me anymore. Will I be able to look at the URL every time I come here? brighteyedcellogirl. Today was my last lesson and orchestra rehearsal. I have my last concert on Sunday, and my jury on Monday morning. After this, who knows how long I'll be taking a break from cello? Edit: In case you're confused, I changed the name and layout, but kept the URL. I'll deal with that some other time. Yeah, whatever, I guess it doesn't matter that much. Why can't I stay on subject? Oh, right, caffiene and not enough sleep. This is day four I've been up past midnight. I really need to not make a habit of this.

So, anyway. I have the following left in my time here at NAU. Later today (technically), I have to attend my soon-to-be-ex-professor's faculty recital. Sunday is our last concert of the season, Monday I have my jury, my portfolio due for the class from hell, and the string/piano area chamber music recital, and Tuesday, I have an online final that has to be completed by 9:30 am. One assignment, 3 performances to attend/play in, and one online final. 

It's such a surreal feeling. Obviously, I knew this day would come (unless time stopped, and then I'd be pissed at whoever controls these things), but I had no idea back on May 22nd, 2008 that this is how my first year of college would go. Who could've guessed that the girl I road-tripped and celebrated housing assignments on a beach in California with would've left before I did, and that we didn't even make it through a month as roommates? Back when I made the decision to press NAU for all the scholarship money that they could/would give me, I had no idea that I would baffle everyone by turning it down for the next year. I know that changing majors, and even changing schools isn't unheard of, but that never played into my options or thoughts when deciding where to go. 

But here we are. I'm almost a complete year out of high school, and I've learned more about myself than I could've ever imagined. It hasn't been the easiest year, but I've made some big decisions (on my own, for once), and I'm starting an entire new chapter of my life on Wednesday. The only question is, what will I learn about myself in the next year? 

Here's to big risks and bigger rewards.

33

It's nights like this that I hate. Nights where I know I need to sleep, and I want to sleep, but my brain just won't turn off long enough to allow it. I went to bed at midnight last night, 2 am the night before, and god knows when I'll fall asleep tonight. This is the third straight night of being up until or past midnight with no real reasoning whatsoever, and tomorrow will probably be another normal morning, where my body is awake at 8 on the dot but my brain is screaming no, more sleep, please, stop doing this to me...When my brain does turn off on nights like this, I've usually spent so much time on making it happen that I'm not tired anymore, or I'm not in a position where I can take advantage of that 10 minute or so period of time.

So obviously, what do I do when I can't sleep?

Fill out job applications.

32

God. I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to rent a van to move my stuff from Flagstaff to Tucson. It's only complicated because, well, you have to be 25 to rent a car. I'm not. And neither is Wesley. But I offered to pay for the van, because I can't drive it. This is just too fucking stressful. I hate that I have to worry about this when I should be worrying about finals and my research paper and recitals and juries. Yes, I want to move down there as soon as I can, but I absolutely HATE the logistics of it.

Friday Night Link Dump.

Edit: When you click on links, open them in a new window or tab.

This is one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time. A Dutch photographer stood on street corners in NYC for two weeks at a time and took pictures of the passers-by and then made composite images in Photoshop. It's mindblowing.

This one kinda pisses me off. I get horrible migraines, as do my brother, mom, and boyfriend. And my boyfriend has fibro pain almost daily. So, yes, pain happens. The fact that anyone would think I would lie about something like that just upsets me so much.

Over at Pandagon, there's a fantastic piece about the tradition of engagement rings. As I'm sure I've mentioned here, I'm a sucker for the sparkly, but at the same time, it seems slightly out of date for my future fiance to spend more money than we have on an engagement ring. I don't like the idea of being marked as someone's property if I don't get to mark him back. That's partly why we've talked about getting similar (maybe matching) tattoos. We're going to probably get some sort of something so that when we say "hey, we're engaged," we have something to show. As much as I wish it wasn't the case, people assume things if the guy didn't get you a ring. Whatever we do, it'll be something special and unique for us.

Finally, Friday video time. This pisses me off so, so much. zomg teh gaysss! (Also, the older gent teaches drama at my high school. DRAMA.) But here's the funny--the Funny or Die parody, A Gaythering Storm.

31

I found a new theme song, and goddammit, things are already going wrong.

Wilco's nothing'severgonnastandinmyway (again). But guess what? Something already has. I was sick yesterday, so I had to cancel my conference with my English professor. You know, the required one that counts as two absences if you don't show up? Yeah. She emailed me back and said that I could come at 1:10 today. I get there at 1:10, and she says "oh, you never replied to my email, so I gave that spot to someone else. Be in class tomorrow with 3-6 pages for peer review." (even though I saw her walking into the building this morning and made a point of checking to be sure of the time)
So now I have a few more pages to write, and no guidance or idea of where this is going. Fanfuckingtastic.

It just seems like I can't make things go my way anymore. I'm honestly not too worried about it, because none of these classes will affect my UofA gpa, but it is getting so fucking frustrating to have everything turn around on me at the very last possible moment. Whatever. Two weeks left in this dump, and then my life will turn around, and I will make things work.

This is one of the things that before, would have for sure given me an anxiety attack, but here we are. I'm working through it, letting go of things, and not thinking about it anymore. I can't change what just happened, so there isn't really any reason to stress over it.

Edit: I'm still pissed, though.

We did it for the laughs.

A new countdown.

9 days until the cello studio recital.
14 days until my last NAU orchestra concert
15 days until the chamber music recital and juries.
16 days until my last final.

I'm not sure when I'm actually leaving. Hopefully I'll be able to be in Tucson for Wesley's birthday, but who knows. I've been looking forward to leaving all semester, and now I can't believe it's actually happening. This year, I've figured out what I don't want to do with my life, but not what I want to. With help, I've gotten help for my problems. I've failed a class and redeemed my academic record. I've met the man I plan on spending the rest of my life with. It's been a mixed bag, but at this moment, I can say that I am happier than I've been in a long, long time.

30

I don't know why I keep thinking about this, but it's one of the only things keeping me going right now.

I just love thinking about what's going to happen in May or June. It's just going to be me and him (and maybe a kitten. Haven't decided yet) in our own place. We keep saying we want to start our life together and once we get the apartment, it'll actually be happening. I love the thought of having our own place and being able to fall asleep in his arms and wake up next to him every single day. I have this thought of him meeting me after class and going home together, him making dinner, and sitting on the couch and watching baseball. And then, of course, there's the awesome sex. ;) But seriously. I can't wait to live with him. I love him, more than anything, and I think we're meant to be together.

And yes, baby, I do want a cat. We can't name it Chairman Meow, though. Sorry.