shamanicshaymin | Entries tagged with fml

Things My Mother is Allergic To

Dogs

Cats

Happiness

Making comments without the slightest hint of criticism

Going five seconds in Dad's presence without nagging and hen-pecking him

Not showing off her "gratitude" by reminding Dad of something he's forgotten or a mistake he's made whenever he goes out on errands for her or buys her a gift

Good memories (but she's more than happy to remember some insignificant fight Dad or I had with her just to criticize us even more)

If Mom doesn't want me to get another pet, she should outright say so. That way, I wouldn't spend so much time going through Pet Finder and other adoption sites looking for chinchillas and dogs and whatnot. I go through all the trouble to look up hypoallergenic dogs for her and offer to bring helpful research articles and honest reviews of dog breeds, but she shuts me down every time. I suggest dogs like Shih-Tzus and Malteses, and she whines about how she'll only listen to what her allergist told her (whom she hasn't met in 18 years) which is Poodles or Bichon Frises or nothing. Since she considers Poodles to be too "high-strung" and smart, I look up Bichon Frises (and from Corpus Christi, the nearest Bichons up for adoption are in San Antonio) and manage to find a dog who looks just like Amanda. Rather than be fascinated like my Dad was, Mom goes on and on making up excuses how ZOMG HE LOOKS LIKE A MALTESE MIX (his Pet Finder page lists him as a purebred) and I WANT THE POOFY BICHON LOOK AND WE WERE NEVER ABLE TO GET THAT WITH AMANDA and nitpicking the living hell out of him like she does with Every. Single. Fucking. Thing.

She had the fucking gall to excuse me of being selfish because I wanted presents for my birthday. What the FUCK.

I told her that I wanted another dog for my birthday. I told her that Amanda would've wanted me and Freddie to move on. (And it's not like Mom is still grieving for Amanda, considering she explicitly told me that she'd think about having another dog in the family. She even told me she loved pugs and wished she could have one, but can't because she's allergic) I told her how therapeutic pets are for me and how important it was for me to be surrounded by animals for my mental health. I told her that I felt like she was finding excuses for why I can't get a dog though I did everything I could to accommodate her needs, and that I felt hurt by that. So she goes and digs up all the mistakes I've ever made with Freddie, saying how OMG YOU'RE NOT RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH and YOU DON'T BRUSH FREDDIE ENOUGH AND LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HIS COAT WHEN HE GOT TOO MATTED and YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A JOB and did her best to make me sound like the most neglectful parent in the universe. 'Cause you know, forget that I've been taking Freddie on various trips to the dog park and other places you're allowed to walk dogs. Forget that I gave him a bath before one particular dog event so he would look and smell nice. Forget that I realized shearing him was a mistake and that I've been brushing his fur to make sure I don't do something careless like that again (Hell, I'm the only one who brushes and bathes him, and he's supposed to be the family pet. I certainly don't see Mom taking the effort to brush him). Forget that I volunteer my ass off at the Cattery and Gulf Coast Humane Society. Forget that I clean Ryu's cage every week and give him his dust baths when needed. Nope, I'm just an irresponsible git who neglects the pets she already has. Oh yeah, and then Mom goes and grumbles and rants and stews what horrible and awful and nasty and illogical people Dad and I are to my brother. That's always fun.

No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to address her concerns, Mom is just going to keep making up excuses. Because she won't outright tell me that I can't have a new dog because she's allergic to happiness and any effort I try to reduce or escape the drama and misery of the household.

So once again, I'm left in a position I hate. I fucking hate arguing. So I either don't say anything and be passive and let troubles stew in my mind, or I call her out for her selfishness and it results in a screamfest. I fucking hate this and I feel like I'm turning into a horrible person because of all the fights I get stuck in with my Mom. I don't want to be a person who starts fights and yells all the time. But Mom's already made me into one.

It's not like I can discuss this with Dad either, because either Dad will shut down or make excuses for Mom and how I shouldn't treat her like a bad person.

I think at this point I can pretty much say goodbye to going to Portland this year. Jimmy barely has enough money to get by and so does Aspen. Unless I get a job that makes me millions of dollars, I'm fucked. I get the feeling I probably won't be able to go to Portland at all. And I have absolutely nowhere else to go.

Current Mood: frustrated
Current Music: MandoPony - FNAF - Balloons

Me: 50 Shades slut-shames women who dare to be kinkier than the heroine and treats BDSM as something resulting from mental illness.
Public: OMG DONT TELL WOMEN WUT 2 DO STOP SHAMING WOMEN 4 LIKING 50 SHADEZ U MISOGYTNISTIC OPRESSOR!!11!1
Me: But I never said anything about the audience--
Public: DUNT B A PRUDE!!11

Nice to know that pointing out a book romanticizes abuse means I'm kink-shaming someone for their fantasies, even though the series makes it explicitly clear a sexually-confident woman is to be regarded as complete scum of the universe under Ana's feet.

It won't matter if I explain and defend myself until I'm blue in the face. No one will listen.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised the movie's making money, no matter how much I cross my fingers and pray that it'll bomb. But now it means the next two movies (or THREE, if they decide to go with the "split-the-last-book-into-two-movies" fad) are going to follow me for the next few years like a parasite that won't fucking detach.

I don't care if I'm overreacting. I don't care if it's "just a book/movie." I don't care if there are worse things out there, like The Turner Diaries or whatever the hell people are saying about American Sniper. I'm allowed to be upset about more than one thing, even if it isn't as "lethal." I'm just sick and tired of people writing off kink such as BDSM as something only "damaged monsters" are into while abusive-but-rich-and-hot-and-heteronormative and double standards are glorified. I'm tired of E.L. James' smug grin as she rolls in the pile of money she doesn't deserve. I'm tired of being shut down just because I'm a "kink-shaming prude feminist who doesn't like fun."

This miserable series just won't go away.

Current Mood: disappointed
Current Music: Brand New - Tautou (Full Song Remix)

I'm really lonely and under a lot of stress right now.

I have three eight-page papers to write. THREE. I feel woefully unprepared and crippled, even though I've been given extensions for all of them by my professors. I have zero confidence and I'm tired as fuck.

But if I don't do these papers (all of which I've asked for extensions for), my grades for all of my classes are going to drop enormously.? And it's likely going to cost me in the long run when I'm trying to find jobs.

I just want to go to Portland NOW and end my misery, but I can't because of these stupid papers. I'm so fucking miserable. I have no energy left. And even if I DO start the papers, my exhaustion will clearly show. They'll be so shitty that I'll get a shitty grade anyway.

I'm going to be stuck here. All my efforts will be for nothing.

Current Mood: gloomy

Badfic and crappy novels (*cough*specifically50shades*cough*) are making me sick of the word "blush" like shitty sci-fi novels made Stephen King hate the word "zestful." It's gotten to the point where I use it sparingly, usually referring to makeup. If used as a verb, it's for something that doesn't involve a person's face turning red. DEAR GOD EVERYBODY BLUSHES ALL THE TIME IN BADFIC, USE OTHER WORDS DAMMIT. Which is a shame, 'cause blushing is usually cute, but it's gotten to the point where it almost means nothing because it's all juvenile writers make their characters do when they're embarrassed.

I have two essays I have to work on, and both have to be a minimum of eight pages. I'm behind on reading material and I'll have to talk to the Disabilities Services and my professors for an extension. I did the first part already, I just have to wait until Monday for the latter. Home life isn't doing much better, since Dad had been having back problems to the point where he had to have surgery last Monday. He's lying in bed now, but he can't drive. I'm also scared as hell for my dog Freddie. About last week, he got into the garbage and ate something bad for him, so he's been vomiting blood and bone splinters. He used to be energetic and run around all the time. Now he doesn't smile or wag his tail, he usually just lies there. I'm really scared for him, especially since he's much younger than Amanda.

God I just want to get the semester over with and go to Portland. But if I'll need extensions for my essays, it'll take way longer than I anticipated.

Current Mood: worried

I feel like one of those kindly doormat Anime characters everybody hates.

Current Mood: gloomy

"Dear Princess Celestia, we're writin' to you because today we all learned a little somethin' about friendship. We learned that you should take your friends' worries seriously. Even if you don't think that she has anything to worry about. And that you shouldn't let your worries turn a small problem... ...into an enormously huge entire-town-in-total-chaos Princess-has-to-come-and-save-the-day problem! Signed, your loyal subjects."

The latest episode hit a little too close to home for me. Luckily I can rely on my friends... more information on that soon. It's my Mom who isn't taking me seriously at all.

( And now, a short paragraph of my Mom dismissing my problems because of the menstrual cycle. )

Good news: Finally got to see my psychologist.
Bad news: But not after more drama. I was hoping for Dad to take me so I wouldn't have to wake up Mom and leave her in peace. My appointment was at 1, but it was nearing 12:30 and Dad wasn't back yet like he said he'd be. Worse, I couldn't call him because he left his phone at home. So I waited, because I knew Mom was going to bitch at me if I woke her and was afraid of getting into her room. 12:50. I had no choice. Mom calls me an idiot and berates me for not waking her and trusting "your unreliable father" over her and I had to call my psychologist to tell him we were late. Only after we left the neighborhood did I spot Dad's car. I was counting on him and he was too late.

What hits me harder is if I knew how to drive, I would've taken the car left in the driveway and gone myself instead of being stuck at home worrying about unreliable parents. Then all this blow-up would've been avoided.

My psychologist talked it over with my parents and agreed that the best place I should be right now is staying at a friend's house for several weeks. Maybe more. I think more. He recommended I take anti-depressants again, but I told him I wanted to know how I felt after one week before my next appointment, and we agreed.

Good news: Dad finally took me to Walmart to apply for a job.
Bad news: After taking the "assessment test" via computer, it told me I had "completed, but did not pass. We'll hold your application for 64 days." Dad asked me what kinds of questions were on there, and of course I don't remember any of them specifically in their exact words. What I did know was a lot of questions involved a ton of stressful situations like Dealing With Angry Customers, Troublesome/Lazy Employees, Group Projects/Group Thinking/Being an active member of The Group, What If There was a Argument/Disagreement in Your Group, etc. which made me feel uncomfortable because A. I've never been in the workplace before. B. Any conflict/disagreement question reminds me of what's going on at home and my natural instinct is to clamp up and get away from/avoid it so I wouldn't have to endure it all over again. C. I never worked well in groups or teams at school and always dreaded them, where the best possible solution for me was where I could be left alone and spoken to as little as possible. Teamwork and giant groups of people make me uncomfortable and would prefer just a quiet job requiring little interaction like putting or unloading things on shelves or something. I'd rather just follow what my instructor says rather than being forced to come up with ideas because I have no idea how groups work and don't want people to be talking about me behind my back or to my face when I say something stupid. D. The test treats me like I'd had a job before. I haven't and I don't have a clue.

I've been told to "answer honestly" on the test and I took that to heart. But what it REALLY should have said was "Pretend to be the kind of employee we're looking for" because that would've made a LOT more sense. Several questions I was hesitant about the answers on because my primary concern was finally getting a job and making money. So Walmart asks me, "You're concerned about making money rather than for the good of the company." On the scale of Strongly Disagree to Strongly Agree, I nervously put "Agree", which I worried may not have been the best move, but the assessment test told me to be "honest" and I felt that my time in Walmart was going to be short since I was going to be juggling other future jobs and I truly was worried about getting a headstart on life.

The very second Dad heard about this, he flew into a rage. ("Don't you THINK about people!? How they react? Don't you care about doing a good job!? That you want to feel useful for more than the money!? DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT GETTING HIRED!? Who do you think a company is going to hire, someone who cares for the well-being of Walmart, or--") Thanks for reminding me how worried I am that I feel like I'm having trouble relating, empathizing and connecting with other people, Dad.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME HELP YOU WITH THE FORM!" Except I'm not allowed to receive help from other people while taking the assessment test. I told him this repeatedly, he said there was no one paying attention, but I'm fearful of breaking the rules and I don't want to cheat and I want to be as "honest" as the test assessment instructed me to. And he doesn't listen and yells at me some more because I didn't want him to help me.

Is it any wonder I'm not employed yet? If I'll ever be?

You know, it would've really helped if I received a copy of the assessment test and explained to me why I failed along with a complete analysis on the answers. How am I supposed to learn anything if I keep filling in the same mistakes one assessment sheet after the other and have no one tell me what I'm doing wrong?

Last Sunday, James and I with friends had lunch at McDonald's at a street close to my house, and the server told us they were hiring. I was told to keep the receipt so I would know the site I would go to and apply online. I did just and filled the application fine up until they asked me for a "username" and "pin number" which confused the everliving fuck out of me and stopped me in my tracks. I was going to call them later for help.

But wouldn't you know it? After all the hustle and bustle yesterday, I lost the fucking receipt. If that doesn't sink my hopes of me ever getting employed, I'm sure something worse would come along and tell me.

I'm almost fully packed. I'm gonna get a few more things while I wait for James to pick me up so I can stay at Dave's. Will update a little more when I'm settled in.

Current Mood: discontent

So Mom and Dad tend to have a massive blow-up argument at least once a night or so. I've been blocking them the best that I could, but lately, it's like it's pervaded the entire mood of the house and I feel myself cracking.

Anyone who knows me knows I don't do well under conflict. At all.

Lately, Mom and I have been fighting a lot. Just yesterday, we snapped at each other, I called her a bitch (and I typically never, ever, curse in front of my family) and this led to punishment and even more angry spats between us. We've finally cooled down and apologized, but not after yet another fight.

By the way. My Mom had an eye examination, and she has cataracts. Which can't be removed by surgery.

Our lives just keep getting better and better, don't they?

I'm going to see a psychologist on Tuesday, because for the past several months, I've been very, very unhappy. And with these past few weeks, it's just getting worse. I've lost interest in video games, music, Internet and other typical things I like, and any excitement I get like getting to a con, playing a new game I've been curious about, hanging out with James and friends or getting new plushies, etc... it all sinks like a stone and I don't feel hyped anymore and I sit there with muddied clouds in my head. Pretty much all that I look forward to is sleeping, because I feel too depressed to do anything. Which unfortunately doesn't last long.

It's bad enough I rarely go on AIM or moan on LJ or talk to friends anymore because I feel like I'll just annoy them to death by whining about the same subject over and over again. I feel like eventually, they'll get tired of me and tell me to get up and stop complaining and do something about it and I'll say I honestly don't know. Then they'd give up on me because I'm always sad and hopeless and don't want to be friends anymore. I know it's ridiculous and I know my closest friends wouldn't think of me that way, but somehow the thought lingers and it sticks to me like a tumor. I know it's unhealthy. I just don't want to feel like I'm bothering people I care about and pushing them all away.

My Writer's Block has hit an all-time low (more like, deeper than scum), and when I actually sat down to write/type something, it's so fucking bland and horrible and a trillion things wrong that I'm ashamed of myself and hate my writing even more. I couldn't even describe what a certain room looks like, but I spent eight entire pages in my notebook with all my worries and fears and nitpicks and basically anything that can or has already gone wrong with my novel, which is more than I've ever written in well... forever. And that's just pathetic. Which I planned to type in my journal, but I'm crying too much right now, and if I try typing it all up now, I'll be reduced to a blubbering mess again. Not that anyone cares about how I'm doing on my book anyway. I don't even know if I'll even bother typing up those pages after all, I always get so distracted.

I could read something, but I can't concentrate on anything without feeling frustrated and thinking about everything else but the book itself. I'm taking a break from American Psycho, got bored with American Gods (I was disappointed how sparse Gaiman's description of House on the Rock was, and his writing style in general felt dry) and now I'm trying to read Maurice by E.M. Forster (Finally! A homosexual relationship between men with a happy ending!), except I have no idea if I'll be able to get through it because at one or two parts, the main character tries to "cure his homosexuality" through therapy (it fails, but still), which is one of my Berserk Buttons regarding LGBT literature and I don't know if I can make it through without getting irrationally angry and... I don't know. I feel like the littlest things are setting me off right now, which makes it hard for me to read.

To make things worse, my family's running low on money (AGAIN), so I don't get as many sessions with my psychologist as I did the last time I needed him (I think around before I started college), which means it's only about 45 minutes a session. Where do I even start? How much longer will I have and how much can we afford? Will I even be able to tell him everything? What if I miss telling him something important and then it's already too late? Mom said she wants to help by making a list of things I can talk to him about, but I am so horrible at organization and so picky about trying to remember every single thing that I don't think it's going to help.

In short, I'm a clusterfuck.