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Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita :: In the midway of this our mortal life Thursday, March 13, 2008

Posted by thegeorgiaknitter in Knitting, Life in General, cutting, fisheezze, worthless.
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I found me in a gloomy path astray, gone from the path direct.
I think I’ve lost my way in this world.

Well, I’m still looking for a girlfriend for Horu. And I’ve also decided that at the end of the month, I’m going to buy a pair of bettas, a dual tank where I can put both of them in the same tank with a divider to seperate them. I want a male and a female so I can breed them. Toshi and Senshi I think I’ll call them. As for Horu’s girlfriend, if I can find a female Blue Gourami at Warner Robins’ Petsmart, I’ll be calling her Hoshihana or Ayame.
Last night and this morning I was helping mom with her work by grading papers because grades are due real soon (like today, but they were originally due Friday, but no one told her about the change). I was going to try to stay up until they were all done, but Steven got all pissy because I was out in the living room, watching TV, trying to stay awake without the help of caffiene because my new drugs I’m on are anti-caffiene. And I mean REALLY pissy. So I went to bed. And he came out to the living room and I had left neat stacks of ungraded papers on the couch, the floor in front of the couch, on the table mom and I use and in a bucket in between the love seat and the couch. Know what he did? HE THREW IT ALL! Yup, I don’t know where half the stuff I was working on went let alone where the keys went. And he started slamming everything he didn’t throw, he overturned the table, my stitch markers, yarn needles, earrings, necklaces, etc and the papers were on the table and all of it went flying. So most of it’s still lost. And he started ranting and raving, calling me a fag, a bitch, a fat ass bitch, a whore, slut, etc. And I couldn’t take it. Mom and I are the only ones even trying to save the house, keep her job, etc. And this is what we get. Gram came out and started defending him and coddling him. As usual, I’m outnumbered. I couldn’t take it. So, I cut myself. And just kept cutting. I wrote a suicide note to Jock and a suicide text to mom. And I confessed all the problems I have in my note to Jock. And I do mean everything. And I was so close to sawing my wrist until it broke the major artery, but I couldn’t do it and leave mom to face the two of them. It wouldn’t be fair to her.
I wish I could tell Mom the real reason why I hate my brother. But I’m afraid she’d hate me. I’m afraid she’d call me a liar. I’m afraid she’d lock up in the insane asylum because she thought I was having severe delusions. I’m afraid she’d never speak to me again. And I’d hate that. My mom’s my best friend besides Ellie, Kristie, Felicia, Lesli, and Tabby.
But, the memories of what he did to me are coming back to me. And I’m afraid I’ll kill myself if I don’t tell her soon. I’m having horrible nightmares that I can’t wake up from until they’re finished. I’m cutting myself more and more often. The memories barge into my thoughts more and more. I’ll be sitting with the kids in church and all of a sudden, I’ll have a flashback from that hell he created for me. I’m running out of venues here. It’s getting to be too much. I don’t think I can continue living with this.
On a brighter note, I’m downloading RANOnline right now, so soon, I’ll be able to enjoy my new MMORPG that I’ve been waiting to be released for like 2 months. It’s about bloody time! I can’t wait until it’s downloaded. I’ll be enthralled, I’m sure.
I’ve cast on for the body of Amy’s first baby cardigan. I’ve already completed the sleeves. Woohoo! It looks great. It’s a variegated yarn consisting of blue, green and white. They’re bold blue and green, but not too bold, and it’s spattered on the white yarn. I’m going to use bright blue buttons and I’m even thinking of working in a pocket on one side of the cardigan. Either that or using short rows to create a V-neck. I’ve never used short rows before. Or made a pocket for that matter. But I’m sure it will turn out great either way. My life may suck, but there is one thing in my life that I excel at and that’s my knitting. I can’t ever go truly wrong with it.
I’m seriously considering taking my GED this summer and hopefully getting it. And then enrolling online in this course I’ve heard of that’s created by the Knitting Council of America that gives me a degree in Knitting. Then I could open up that knitting shop and teach classes. I’d have my own business and a college degree! That would be sooooooooo wicked!
I’ve also got to start planning my birthday adventure. I want to do something different from swimming at the lake and cake. I want something new and adventurous. And I’m definitely going to do something totally different in addition. I’m going to invite that cute guy at the Hurricane Store.
Speaking of him…You’ll NEVER guess what happened! The other day, Mom and I went there as usual while Gram was watching Wheel and Jeopardy. I went in and got some scratch-off tickets as usual. We won a few times and after a few times, Mom sent me in for 6 tickets. And I went in and he was working, so it was fun. I went in and told him I wanted 6 this time. Well, he thought I said SEX and he asked me “Sex?” and grinned. I said, “No, SIX.” an I was both smiling and turning the same shade of red as Mom’s car. And I got the tickets and went out to the car and mom, of course, noticed I was blending in with her car. So she asked me what happened. I wouldn’t tell her, but I was managing to steam up the windshield whilst I was scratching off my tickets. And I still wouldn’t tell her, so on my way out of the car to get more tickets (OI!), she told me to say yes! So I HAD to tell her. And she busted out laughing. I told her to shut it and started closing the door, and -get this!- she told me “Go for it, Margaret!”!!!!!!!!! So I went back in and there was a line, so I got in line, and he was behind the cash register. I’m second in line and he keeps grinning at me and sorta laughing when I turn red. So now, Lesli and Momma constantly pick on me by saying “6″, or “sex”. lol
So, I’ve got to figure out a party idea. I know who I’m inviting already. For the most part.

Invite to Party
¥ Lesli
¥ Bobby {Lesli’s Boyfriend}
¥ Jock MUST! I miss my brother.
¥ Tabby ?? Mom’s still kinda ticked at her for the whole Super 8 fiasco.

I miss my friends. I haven’t talked to Tabby in ages. I haven’t seen Ellie and Kristie since my 16th Birthday. I haven’t seen Britty since I went up to NC for the weekend last summer. I haven’t seen Licia since my 16th Birthday. I haven’t seen most of my brothers since Christmas or Summer Breaks. I wish I could have this HUGE party where ALL my friends showed up and we all caught up with one another and all that. I’m positive Ellie, Kristie, Felicia and Britty would love Lesli and Ellie, Kristie, Licia and Lesli would love Britty and Lesli would love Ellie, Kristie, Licia and Britty and Britty would love Ellie, Kristie, Licia and Lesli.
Right now, I’m searching the Baby sweaters group on yahoo’s linkage. I’m looking for some more baby patterns. I think I could combine a few again and come up with another tres magnifique product. I’m also on Knitting Daily, looking for a cute pattern stitch I can use to make my baby sweater I’ve designed more original. I want people to see my jackets and say, “Now, that’s a Margaret Original!” or “See that jacket, there? That’s a Xanadu Knit!” later on in my life on the latter one, of course.
Now it’s time to post this thing seeing as its got over 1446 words in it now.
So, for now, KNIT ON!

Being Bipolar Sucks, but being bipolar with a life from hell is a bitch. I’m the latter. Thursday, January 10, 2008

Posted by thegeorgiaknitter in Knitting.
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Well, I got my pattern! WOOHOO! If I didn’t tell you about it, I found someone on Ravelry who had a copy of the Rainbow Set pattern I fell in love with last year who’s pattern I lost after returning from North Carolina. And I got it on the 31st, so I cast on that night.
I had a bipolar episode on New Year’s Eve as well. Mere hours before Aunt Brandi’s party. It was a wild one. Too much pressure, too much “I want” “I expect” “I need” “I demand” regarding knitting and money troubles and the stupid house and my family and so on and so forth. In other words, it was one humdinger of an episode. I tore my arm to shreds and everything. I sort of calmed down and got ready and we stopped at WalMart to get a long sleeve sweater and bandaging stuffs to take care of it all. I feel a LOT better. Sort of.
It’s still killing me. All of the worries. Everybody wants to talk to me about their problems, about money issues, about the house, how much they don’t like so-and-so relative (Gram, Steven, Mom whichever) and so on and so forth. It’s driving me crazy. Literally. I thought I had truly snapped Sunday. We took a load of garbage over to the dump, but before we could leave, we had to put some liquid in the van (something under the hood), Mom handed me the bottle filled with the remnants of it to put in the van, I put in the van on top of one of Gram’s hairbrushes and I started laughing thinking of how “well done” her hair would be if she used it then. lol And I kept laughing it felt alot better than how I was feeling. I figured keep laughing and maybe you won’t break. Fine and dandy. On our way home, we drove past this SUV thing that was pulled over on the side of the road, as we passed it, I looked over and there is a shotgun sort of pointed at the van. The driver was holding a shotgun out the window pointed at the woods across the street. Brilliance at its best, ya know. So we get home, Steven’s still an ass.
We finally made him go to church. And he brings this handheld multiple video game thing that Gram gave him for Christmas. And both of his cell phones (new one and old one), his mp3 (which he had playing all through church). And he sat and played games and listened to music all through church. Thankfully I had the foresight of sitting over with Ramona instead of letting Joel and Lesli sit over with us because then Joel would think it was okay behaviour.
Anyways, I had it with them all. So, I went for a walk. Even though I’m dressed for church, wearing flip flops, and mp3-less bc I bought a lemon (see below). And whilst I walked, I watched my blood run. I didn’t care anymore. Mom came and got me before I reached the projects (what a shame! Can you imagine what all the ppl who like to see me while I’m walking would think? Oh no! Who cares?!) and took me to get scratch-offs and mega millions at the Hurricane Store. So I went in with my arm still bleeding. And some guy followed me in with his buddy after he left his metal pipe outside the door, and he kept grinning at me like he thought I was something he could get at. Meanwhile on the way in I had told the moron that if he was carrying that while he committed a crime it would be considered a federal crime and he’d spend actual time in jail. And I got my tickets, went out to the car, he and his buddy came out and he smiles at me again. Dumb fuck, much??
It is really getting to be too much for me. I think..I think that if I break down again, there will be no coming back. And I don’t give a damn anymore.
Everytime money issues are mentioned, or someone uses me as a sounding board in my family, or someone mentions the house, or i feel pressured, or my family starts fighting, I cut myself. And Monday? Monday I had a horrible nightmare I COULDN’T wake up from until the very end. And as soon as I woke up, I started slashing.
I sat there in bed for about half an hour watching the blood just flow. I hate that nightmare. I hate that nightmare because I know that I can never forget it because it actually happened and because I’m still living in the same house as that bastard. I hate him for what he did to me. I hate him so very much. I hate him to the point that I will NEVER forgive him. I can’t. Not after what he did to me for nearly 4 years. And after I made it stop, after I figured that if I told one of my surrogate brothers what happened, he’d be dead, I told him no more, now, now he abuses the entire family, mentally, verbally and physically. Just like his father. I hate my brother. And my mom tells me that I don’t really hate him. He’s my brother, how could I hate him as much as I say I do? Well, gee, Mom, I tried telling you once, but you asked me why I would lie like that so I said I was just writing a song like one I heard on the radio. I wish I never had to sleep. I wish sleep didn’t come with dreams. And with dreams come nightmares. I stay up as long as I can in order to stay away from the memories of what he did to me and the horrors I feel when I remember. I try to keep them buried when I’m awake AND asleep, but I have little to no control of what I dream. No matter how I try I have to sleep. No matter how I try, I still have the dreams of the memories. 4 years of hell worth of memories is an eternity in a dream. My Uncles were assholes to my mom as a kid, her cousins were cruel to her and ostracized her at times as a kid, her brothers and their children hate her kids, my uncles made a slave of her and beat her as a kid, so what?! They never did what my brother did to me. I protected my brother all my life. I watched over him. I read to him. I helped him. I played legos with him. We moved and we were the only people we could trust. I tried to help him make friends. I helped with school stuff. I helped him with baseball stuff. I tried to protect him from our father. And he repays me by doing that to me for nearly four years. And my mom wants me to love him and get along with him?! I tried telling her, but she wouldn’t believe me once, why the fuck should I try telling her again? I knew what she wanted to hear in 9th grade when she read the song lyrics I wrote. So I told her what she wanted to hear. And I cut myself after every nightmare I have of it. Because I know that unlike most nightmares, it can come true, because it did for 4 years. And because I know that these nightmares are NEVER going to stop because I will most likely NEVER move out unless I can figure out a way to save money up for an apartment or a small house. Because I WILL have a little girl one day. And I will NOT let my brother live under the same roof as her. He will NEVER see her. NEVER. My little girl will NEVER know the kind of hell I went through as a little girl. So I’ll cut myself until I leave. I’ll watch my blood seep through the torn skin and watch it as it dries. And I’ll hide them from the kids and show them to the world because it’s the only way I will survive long enough to move out and away from that bastard I’m forced to call my brother.
So, I’m still working on my shawl. And the Rainbow Blanket. And the Rainbow Set. And a Baby Dress. And I’m going to be starting a baby boy’s pullover or cardigan this week. I’m being paid to knit a baby boy’s green sweater by one of my mom’s co-workers. $20 easy. And after it’s shown about the school. More orders. And more money. Which means, HELLO savings for a place of my own. That’s all I can think of for ways to save $$ to leave my past behind and these nightmares.
The 15th is Robbin’s birthday so, this Sunday Evening, I’ll have made a cake for a birthday party for Robbin at church.
This Friday, I’m going for a walk. A LOOOONG walk. I need to think and destress. So walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk.
I’ll be going for said walk with my new mp3. Because the one I got for Christmas decided to fuck itself up and only play music in one ear. So, we returned it Tuesday and got a refund, spent $20 more on the only mp3 KMart had in stock (because they didn’t know if they’d ever get another shipment of the one I had), and that was stressing as well. As was the reason we were all the way up in Warner Robins in the first place. Steven had an orthopaedic appointment and you know how he gets when its appointment time. ASSHOLE doesn’t even begin to describe it. Threatening, Racist remarks, cursing using words not even I would use, etc. Andrew personified in other words. It’s embarrassing beyond belief to have to sit in the waiting room at they psychiatrist’s and listen to him. Even though I had Nayudu as well. I mean, what kind of psychiatrist
¤ tells you that he’s lessening your depakote dosage and adds 250 mg of the shit to your current 500 mg!
¤ no your way out of the office, tells you that your getting too fat and maybe you should start exercising!
HUH? What the hell kind of psychiatrist does that? But that’s the only issues I got with Nayudu, but Steven? Steven comes up with new racial slurs, racist comment, cultural comments, religious comments, accusing him of being a member of al Qaeda (he’s friggin Indian! and I think he’s Hindu, but I’m not sure). Not to mention mimicking the actions of shooting a rifle, or whatever gun he happens to think of, threaten to blow him up by sticking a grenade in his — well, you get where I’m going, right?
Hence the reason, I don’t act on any attraction to ANY guy mostly. That cute guy who sorta flirts with me at the Hurricane Store, that guy at Golden Corral, the guy at Arby’s, etc. And hence the reason, I don’t have friends over.
I wish I could get away from my entire family for an hour or two every now and then. You know, just forget that my family hates me and that my family sucks.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to map out where exactly I’m walking tonight or tomorrow night. (Tonight as in Thursday and tomorrow night as in Friday Night). I think I want to walk a different path than usual.