Frustrated?

Meh I'm sure it's probably that my Lexapro is messed up and I know my missing a month plus of acupuncture is REALLY taking a toll with my migraines but I'm borderline depressed and I can't even 100% figure out why.

I miss Kyle. Since I got back from Long Island my health, sleep, and all the rest has been messed up a lot and even when I am on aim he's not. I want to call but talking on the phone hurts. Hell, typing hurts. And I'm mad that I'm letting pain prevent me from doing what I want but at the same time, I don't want to be in MORE pain out of sheer damn stubborness.

I want to talk to him :( I miss you Kopper.

And I miss my laptop. I'd have been online all week if I had one but apparently mine is still delayed *sigh* and I haven't the foggiest why Moosey's new wireless card isn't working except that I hate Linksy's.

And it's weird, the thing that set me off tonight was the announcement from my Mom that I'm now not allowed to wear pigtails around my Grandmother. What the hell man? Apparently she got upset about it and said something about me not being 13 anymore. And let's not forget that I've been wearing my 1920s haircut since I was 7, the last time I wore pigtails I was 6, and adults wear pigtails :| And aside from which, if I'm an adult shouldn't it be MY decision how to wear my hair??? And I don't know why but it's making me miserable and want to cry. A lot.

*sigh*

I think it's because I don't want to object and make a fuss. I NEVER like making a fuss but it's like dresses. For the love of GOD isn't it bad enough I'm wearing a skirt? And she asked me and Moosey to sing but puts all these extra demands on it and I'm so scared of getting sick this coming weekend.... oy.

My Mom points out that basically my Grandmother is treating it like a wedding rather than 50th anniversary, which explains the whole Mass and everything. But ....

Am I too picky? Or just not assertive enough? It's like how they constantly say that in a work place you have to dress professionally to get treated professionally. Well what if I want to dress comfortably? Can I get treated comfortably? Someone explain to me how wearing a $700 suit is supposed to make me a better worker? I'm a straight-up workaholic, it's the attempts all the last week to be chillaxed and not killing myself in spite of the illness that has me MOST frustrated. I want to write. I want to read. I want to do something productive. I want to work. So being a hard-working honest (I can't lie to save my life) dedicated employee still isn't as good if I wear jeans than if I wear a skirt? Because I'll tell you something, I can't work as well if I'm miserable. And I'm always going to be pretty damn miserable in clothes I hate.

Am I being inflexible? Should I just suck it up and conform? I can live with being treated based on first impressions of how I dress but I don't think I can live with being forced to wear clothes someone else picks, chooses, and forces me to wear. Is it because I'm a control freak or am I just so unable to have decisions on anything important that I demand the small battles?

I'm wearing my Lake George sweatshirt. It's so nice and warm and fluffy and green and pretty and reminding me of Kopper and I don't ever want to get out of it.

I don't want to go this weekend. I'm scared of being sick, I'm scared of messing something up, I'm scared of the million billion things that could go wrong. Originally it sounded like fun but it's just reminding me so much of all those damn family gatherings where I've been stuffed into some kind of horrid dress.

I know I hate dresses, skirts, and sheets for the same reason: I'm messed in the head. I finally figured out what it's called; synesthaesia, and basically it means my senses are all messed up. Well my senses are EXTRA messed up thanks to constant migraines and auras too. So the feel of dresses is ... weird. I don't know I could explain the feeling. Nails on a chalkboard doesn't bother me but nails on plywood is the worst sensation ever. Dresses are like that. That obnoxious spine tingling eerie prickly awfulness.

You'll never ever please everyone, you know?

I despise trying to fit into someone else's idea of how I should be. It's hard enough to fit into my OWN idea because according to my counselor I'm too hard on myself. And I know that's true because it took me forever to get over the idea that being sick isn't my fault and I'm still more than 50% inclined to think it is in some way still somehow inexplicably my fault.

Wow. Sitting here sulking/moping/being emo for no reason, I randomly came to the realization that I'd rather be a stripper than forced in your average 9 to 5 job if I'm forced to wear those awful women "pant suits". Seriously, what is up with that? There is something so desperately wrong with me since I tend to think of stripping as the lowest I can sink to out of desperation. *sigh*

I think maybe it's all frustration out of the whole damn bra situation... I finally find someplace online where I can get stuff and I'm now... L cup? wtf? Is there something in Boston water that just makes people bustier than should be possible -- or so I'm told? I'm FINALLY not freaking and crying about it anymore but wearing 2 sizes too small is killing my back enough that I notice it even with level 8 and 9 migraines. And at the same time the migraines are bad enough that sewing is going to be a major issue...

I just want to sink away. I want things to dissolve. I want things to stop. Everything to just freeze. I'm greedy. I got a break from the migraines on my birthday and so now I want another one, though really I'd be happy if they went back to 4s for a week. I want to not have to DEAL with my psychotic relatives -- sister included. I want everything making me feel worthless to get off my back. I want to stop trying to please everybody and tell them with all the problems I deal with every single fucking MINUTE that the minimum they can do is shut the hell up.

I'm tired of worrying about Pat. And my Dad. It's been 10 years that I've been worried to tears about him and I don't want to worry about Laura because she's neurotic. I want to not worry about everything. I want to let someone else just hold all the problems piling on me long enough that I can breathe and then try to look at them again more calmly. But the worst part is looking at them calmly won't do me any good. I can't fix Patrick, I can't cure my Dad, trying isn't enough to make me better -- only sicker. If I argue about the damn pigtails of all things I not only look childish but it'd be rude. I want to stop putting all these pressures on my Mom because she's the only person who can help. I wish I could help her.

I finally reached a point in my life where I understood how she felt and I just wanted to help her as much as possible -- and I did while still trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy for myself. And now I can't do anything except let her talk to me to help.

I hate feeling inadequate.

More than anything right now I just need all the frustrations to stop.

Being content and just not flat-out permanently miserable is a constant struggle for me. It isn't just "oh yay I'm happy now", I have to work on it. I think in general most people do. I can usually attain some standard of tolerable happiness and not let things get to me. I know things could be worse and I'm grateful for what I have. But slipping into misery creeps up on me anytime I start to let my guard down.

I used to wish my life was a story. Some amazing fantastic out of the ordinary adventure. I think I have that now but it's a melodrama so now I'm sulking and want a "normal" life. I don't think in all reality I could ever really manage a normal life. I've always been the type to get bored easily (hence the workaholicism) and I've been known to create trouble when that happens.

Grr... I'm driving myself crazy. I want out of my head because it's frustrating me in here and I want to slip completely into and dissolve into my writings.

I miss my Kyle. And I miss not having to lie down.

I guess my biggest worry right now is that I'll never really be truly happy. Not in the sense of always chasing an unattainable dream or even never achieving said dream. More like, no matter what I do, what luck comes my way, I'll still pine for something else. I don't want to PINE period. I want to be happy with the way things are now but the best I can manage really is a tolerance and some days that's even harder than most. And I worry that if I was really happy with the way things are now I'd never leave it, and that would be even worse. Constantly there are the supposed nerds in their parents basements who want nothing other than to play video games and watch tv all day. Maybe my wanting NOT to do that keeps me "safe". Mildly miserable but safe? *sigh*

I know what I want. I'm going to do what I can to obtain it. Can I just manage to survive and not make myself more miserable than necessary until then? I say c'est la vie a lot because it's a reminder to myself.

My Dad says I'm strong-willed because I haven't succumbed to simply taking meds to be numb, doing drugs, or getting drunk.

I feel like I'm fighting a battle. Determination isn't enough to win. It doesn't automatically save people in a battle, and just being determined isn't enough. But you can't get anywhere without it.

Sometimes I hate hope. I have hopes that I'll get better and everything will be fine and happy. If I didn't have hope I wouldn't continue trying to press on, I'd give up. It'd be easier but I guess probably not better.

I have really got to lie down. I hate migraines.