Normalcy and Psychologists 8/6/2002
My mother had a long talk with me while she was making dinner last night. She knows that something is really wrong and is really pushing for me to go to counseling at Binghamton.
The whole thing started when we went food-shopping on Friday after I got home from camp. Becca and John were both going out, so I was pretty depressed about that. Then it started to downpour, which sucked because A) I have to bring in groceries during the torrential rain and B) my computer was on the floor of my basement, which floods like crazy. My dad had helped me unpack it just to make sure it worked, but didn't have the chance to put it away again. I started crying in the cra because I knew my dad was going to scream at me if the computer got ruined. My computer cost a lot of money and he's told me more than once that if it gets ruined, I won't get another. My dad's a computer nerd, and the computers in the house are like his children.
My mother started getting mad at me because I was crying hysterically. We get home, I run down to the basement, and John's talking on the phone while the carpet, and my computer, are getting soaked. On top of being soaking wet, I'm a wimp, and couldn't seem to lift the heavy moniter. Also, the damn thing was plugged into an unseen outlet, which I also couldn't seem to get out. I started to cry even more, so John and Mom got even more pissed. I understand that I did overreact, but they have to understand that I HATE being yelled at...and my dad would've flipped out on me if something had happened to that computer.
At this point its still pouring, and Mom and I are struggling with getting out the dozens of paper bags ( we eat a lot) without ripping. Its now eight o'clock, I haven't eaten dinner, and water had gotten into the computer tower, which I had figured killed my computer. John and Becca were both in their respective rooms getting ready to go out with their dates or friends, and I'm shivering in my room, terrified about the computer and hungry.
My mother didn't speak to the the whole night. The next morning, she had given me and my sibs instructions to pick up the phone if it rang because she was expecting an important call. Well the phone rings, and I was the only one who went to go and pick it up. As I'm maybe a foot from the phone, my mother yells behind me, "Pick it up!" Well, now I'm just pissed. Don't tell me to do something when you obviously see that I'm already doing it or about to do it. So I yelled, "I'm getting it!," slammed down the phone, gave my mother a dirty look, and walked out. Reasonable? No. Was I pissed? Definitely. I didn't even get a thank-you for helping last night.
My mother marches into my room after she gets off the phone and yells at me that I'm rude. I accused her of being the same way. She told me to either change my attitude or pack my bags. I told her that I'll be moving out shortly. She walked out and slammed the door. That was basically the last time we talked until yesterday. (Monday).
All day I really figured she would be throwing me out of the house. I researched some cheap apartments to rent in Binghamton, plus I kept my bag and money near me, just in case she did blow up and I had to leave. I'm still thinking of leaving by the time the year's out.
Home is no longer a refuge to me. I'm tried of making my family upset. They know I'm not happy, and even when I try and cover it up, they still know. I feel even worse for not acting like a normal person, and end up feeling even worse. Becca and John are so content with their circles of friends and just so...normal. They go out on weekends, the drink, smoke up, whatever. I no longer speak to my h.s. friends, and my three college friends live far away. People from camp are nice and we hang out once in awhile, but they have their own lives. I'm just tired of feeling bad, and making everyone else around me feel bad.
She made some coffee and sat me down in the kitchen. According to my mother, my reactions to situations are not age-appropriate (which I knew), I have a severe self-esteem issue (which I knew), I'm emotionally immature (depends on the siutaion), I'm disrespectful (yes, but I can defend that), and I'm over-anxious and nervous all of the time (which has been my way since I was a little kid...she's first realizing it now??). She's worried that I'm going to make myself sick with my worrying, and basically ordered me to talk to a psychologist. My mother believes that there's nothing more she thinks she can helps me with, so she wants me to go to a professional.
My problem is that I'm been having most, if not all, of these problems for as long as I can remember. How do I correct them now, after all this time? The bad stuff is always easier to believe anyway...I'm not sure talking to a stranger will help me...what's she going to do? I can't make a friend to save my life, boys sure as hell don't talk to me, and I can't get the grades I want no matter how hard I try. Basically everything that happened at SU proved my insecurities.
Every time I think of psychologists, I think of Richard Smalley on SNL. ("I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggonnit, people like me."). Yeah, saying shit like that just doesn't help me. I'm all for medication. Shoot me up with some wonder drug so I act like everyone else. I do act like everyone else,but its for show. The people who are closest to me-my family- know its an act, which presents a huge problem for me. But anyway...I am going and maybe she'll help. I have to make an appointment and see what happens next.
Phobia of the Day: Heresyphobia or Hereiophobia- Fear of challenges to official doctrine or of radical deviation
Until my next ramble
Artist
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