My Sister: Forever Child

So I have a secret. Well not a secret really, just something I think about from time to time that I'm actually relatively ashamed to admit. Sometimes, I become overwhelmingly jealous of my older sister, and I know that's wrong. My older sister, who is 23 but mentally is stuck at eight. She likes to play teacher and push a plastic bus around the floor to pick up students at bus stops strewn across the house. When her emotions become too much she throws full blown tantrums, sometimes saying horrible things but never being reprimanded cuz my parents have learned it's better to just let her be. I know I should be grateful for my normal mind, for my ability to do all the things she never will: Go to college, get a job, learn to drive, maybe even fall in love and have a family someday. I know she thinks about those things some in her limited ability. Since we were little she's talked about growing up and having kids. When she was mad at me she'd always tell me how I wouldn't be allowed to visit her kids when I grew up. Truth is though, sometimes I think I'd switch with her in a heartbeat. I'm insanely scared of the future. I have no passion, no sense of direction. I don't want to face the future to be honest. I don't want to live, but I don't want to die. I just want to disappear, be stuck in limbo someplace. I'm too afraid of growing up, I'm too afraid of everything. It is at these times when I look at Courtney and feel this pang of jealousy. Because she doesn't have to grow up. She'll never have a job, or stress about studying for finals and writing papers. She'll never dread the future the way I do. She doesn't know heartbreak, and as far as I know she doesn't understand my father's abuse or the deep scars it's left me with. She doesn't understand that I cry myself to sleep almost every night, haunted by memories I can't seem to erase. She doesn't know I swallow pills just to go someplace else for awhile, away from my life. She only knows the simple things, her mentality is that of a 5-8 year old depending on the concept. My sister, who smiles when I come home like it's Christmas morning, telling me how fun it is and how happy she is that I'm home when in reality all I do is lock myself in my room and do hw. In truth I don't deserve such a loving sister. I'm a horrible sister. I lose my temper, grow irritated at her non stop questions, call her names, push her away. I was home an entire summer, and all she wanted was for me to play with her, a simple card came would suffice. To be honest, I didn't really fulfill my promise to spend a day just with her until the weekend before I came back to the dorms. Sure, I did little things to make her smile, bring her a book, watch a movie, make her a parfait. Such simple acts and what you get from her is how you are the greatest sister in all the world. She see's the wonder in the world I lost long ago. In clouds shaped like animals, in passing a familiar building, or in the joy of being allowed to get the mail. The highlights of her life are getting to sit next to me when we go out to eat, a trip to the park, feeding the fish. Each act so simple and meaningless to me, and she acts like it's the best thing in the world. Sure, she drives me crazy, she throws tantrums, tells me she hates me when she's mad, but in the end, I honestly wish I had her life. To see the wonder in the little things. To grin from ear to ear and laugh hysterically at corny jokes. To never grow up, at least not mentally. To never know real stress, never work, never have to do anything. To always be taken care of, meals made, hair brushed, clothes picked out. To never lose the joy of barbie dolls and school buses. Even as I say it I'm ashamed that I long her life over mine, that I'm really that shallow. But when you think about it, I'm not the only one who fears growing up, or who has been heartbroken, beaten, depressed, and void of hope. I'm not the only one to curl up in bed and long to go back to childhood. I'm not the only one wishing I could be always taken care of. When you think about it....I think we all want peices of her life. If nothing else, to keep that sparkle of our childhood.

Stuffy Nose

As unbelievable as it really is to me, I am sick again. Actually out of the times I've been sick so far this year, this one has been the worse. Not only did I fight a fever for two days non stop, but the fever keeps coming back unexpectedly just when I think I'm getting better. My head has decided it hates me, and I think by now I've coughed up more than just my lungs. What's kind of funny, is that out of all the things I hate about being sick, from body aches to sore throat, the one thing I hate more than anything is a stuffy nose. It drives me absolutely crazy. I guess it's true what they say, that you never know what you have until it's gone, and that sometimes you have to lose something to really understand how important it was. I will be the first to tell you, being able to breathe through your nose is very important. You do it all day, and to be honest you never really think about just how vital it is to your sanity, to your ability to function normally. That is, until you get a nasty cold, that blocks up your poor little nose. I swear, I could breath in as hard as I can through my nose...and get absolutely no air through. It's miserable. I have to say, the most entertaining aspect of a stuffy nose is that you can litterally feel like you are suffocating when trying to eat a meal. You can't breathe through your mouth and eat at the same time, so you are left making quite a fool of yourself taking little gasps of air in between bites. Not exactly the statement I wanted to make.

I went to Shari's today. My dad was having a good taste buds day (long story, but half the time he can't smell or taste anything) so he wanted to go out to eat. Even though I felt miserable, I couldn't accept them going out and me just laying in bed, so I opted to go. I'm sure the tables around us were wondering what parent's had the nerve to take someone this sick in public, but I enjoyed being out of my room for the first time all weekend. I had stuffed hashbrowns, and pretty much nothing makes me happier than stuffed hashbrowns at Shari's. So aside from the whole gasping for air while trying to eat thing, I was glad I went.

When I got home I took a well deserved hot bath. I've been craving one all week, filling the tub with hot water, grabbing a book, and just soaking my achy muscles was so nice. I don't get that luxury much anymore, as there are no tubs at the dorms. Although even if there were tubs at the dorm, I think I'd avoid a public tub. It was while in the tub that I realized just how sick I really am. I kept wanting to get up, knowing it was late, knowing I needed to get on with my shower, but I was so tired and weak I couldn't bring myself to get up. So of course I stayed in the tub till I was a prune and the water was cold. I thought about how easily I could fall asleep in the tub, and then thought about how bad that could end. Long story short I made it out of the tub, watched an episode of SVU, and now I think the cough syrup with codeine is finally kicking in, so I can sleep. Tomorrow I go to the acupuncture again, let's see if I can leave with a few less bruises this time.

Gloomy Days

I'm definately not enjoying the gloomy weather lately, which probably isn't a good thing considering we have a long gloomy winter ahead. If the weather continues to reflect my mood, you are looking at a lifetime of dark skies and thunder storms. Too much is going on right now, I can't really think of anything creative to say. I should try to sit down and write some poems soon, because I haven't really been creative in awhile. I've been too tired to be creative. My FM is really getting me down lately, which I'm kind of ashamed to admit because I don't like to let my FM win. But it's been hard to be positive lately. I have a group of friends falling apart because of some stupid boy. I guess that's a tale that's been told a million times. I just can't afford to lose friends right now. My heart's already fractured, the strain of this could break me completely. They don't offer casts for a broken heart either, so I'm not really sure how it's supposed to heal. You can't keep your heart on bed rest...you can't stop yourself from feeling. You can try. Lord knows I have. Pills and dreams of death are not unknown to me. I haven't sunk that low yet, but I can feel myself struggling against a downward current. To top off my wonderful mood, I am still feeling sick. I'm afraid that the fall out is coming, and when it does it will be ugly. So you've been warned. If you want happy and cheery I suggest you stay away from me. Which I wouldn't blame you for, everyone leaves me eventually. I'm too much to handle. "A Burden" as I've been called.

On the positive side I have an addiction to SVU lately. I've always liked the show, and now that I can watch all the seasons on netflix, I've been averaging two or three episodes a day. Which isn't so good for my school life, but I enjoy it anyways. I also have my new Ellen Hopkins book...which so far is amazing as usual. So between the two maybe I can keep from breaking for a little while.