12:36 p.m. | 2003-10-14
Damn, I Thought That I Would Run Out Of Tears
I'm really sorry that I'm bad at things. It just hurts so much, and I don't know what to do and here I descend into the stupid teenage shit.
I never really considered myself to be your average teenage, I mean I just thought maybe I was different. I spent all weekend studying, I mean I studied hard, I think as hard as I could have. Well, maybe not, but I studied pretty hard. I woke up this morning and I hit the snooze button, and I realized it was 9:45, I had a class at 9:50 none the less a mid-term. I was freaking out, I made it there but a little late...and then I went to take the test, I couldn't identify half the listening examples, and I just...I kinda sucked it up.
Even better, I get to my architecture class, which I really really really should have studied harder for and I do ok on the first page, on the second page I can only identify 3/4 so on the one that says "pylon" I put: "orange cone usually used for traffic hazards, location: Medford, USA, circa 2003." At least that made me smile, I did fine on the picture recognition but I did terrible when the test started talking about how my computer and my fridge morphed into a time machine. So I guess I went back in time and I had to draw a place and put identifying markers about it on there. Yeah, sucked that one up. Oh, and th worst part of all, the columns. He's talked about columns, YES, but did he do anymore than hand us a sheet with the details? NO. So I'm sitting here completely just, ugh...and I do horribly and I come home.
Which reminds me, as I rush out to leave this morning, I see all these colored papers taped to my door, I'm rather confused seeing as we're not supposed to have paper on our door, but I notice all these little notes and a title that says, "The I Love Lauren Club." So there's all these REALLY sweet things on my door saying why they love me, and I just...with all the animosity that used to be there I don't know what to do. I'm sitting here just completely confused. I feel like shit inside, I feel worthless, I can't be an architect, who the FUCK was I kidding. But then there's these things that make me happy. And then I fail tests. And now I'm not going to European History because I have so much to get done and just....
I don't know what to do with myself, I don't want to quit, but there's so much more support at home. I don't want to have to give up everything that's there, I really really really want to stay there. Maybe this was a growing up experience, maybe I just need to push through, put my head down and barrel through. Only thing is that I'm not sure if I want to quit this semester or next. I figure I'll go talk to Dr. Thrush, and I'll start to cry because of all the pressure and then I'll feel like a retard and...I can't do this anymore. I need to stop, sit down, take a few deep breaths and get over it. It's fucking life. It'll get better. I'll deal. It's not like I don't know that it's just that there's so many people and so many things showing me the other path. I feel like I can't do anything right. I hate that feeling, and on top of it I feel guilty for some reason. Shit.
I'll add more later, when I can stop crying.
On a slightly better note: the comment section is finally working, yay! And you can leave me one, yay! So that will make my day, yay!
Good luck with that
The silence in this room is deafening. Now that Melissa�s home it seems things have just kinda pulled away. Kristin and I were getting real close when she was away, and we still are, just�it�s just now that Melissa�s here I�m more worried about pissing her off than making Kristin happy. It�s kinda sad the way I cater to these things. She�s been having a tough time dealing with Tim and with Steve (her two beaus of sorts) and I�ve been trying to be supportive, now her away message states �I hate you.� It�s nice to put out there ya know. Now she�s sitting here looking at pictures of her friends. I wish I could help, I wish someone would just scream out loud so that people here would start talking about their problems. I wish that things could just not be so hidden!
Yet I am, ironically, the most guarded person I know. No one knows me, no one gets told who I am. Some people have gotten close enough to understand me somewhat, but no one knows me very in depth. Even the people who think they do, don�t. Oh well, I�ll deal, at least I seem to be feeling a little better about things. Just a little.
Signing Off--Lauren
