My name's Celia and I'm almost fifteen years old.
I have problems, what teenager doesn't? Masks are my best friends. I've attempted suicide twice in the past year and am getting over an eating disorder (which I had gotten because of my mother, father, and grandparents on my mother's side always saying that I need to lose waight).
You might be wondering why I'm telling people I've never met(and will never meet) this. I don't really know, maybe I just need to let everything out, maybe I want to load my problems onto other people... Who knows? But whatever reason it is, I'm most likely going to delete this whole bit.
The funny thing is, I don't even know why I'm so depressed. I have a really good family. Sure my dad hadn't really been there to help me through life, what with him being so busy in the Air Force and all, but at least he's in my life, my mom has Lupus and all this other shit and she yells a lot, and my sister is leaving for college in the Fall and claiming she's never coming back. And my ten and eight year old dogs(Boomer and Ginger) are most likely not going to make it through the next year. Despite my poems, I do love my family, maybe not unconditionally, but I still love them. Mostly my sister, though. She and I are really close and I couldn't live without her; she looks after me when I lose the will to do so myself, though she hasn't figured that part out yet. We warn each other when mom and/or dad are angry so that we know when to not talk to them.
My parents have finally figured out that my sister and I HATE being at home. I'll put the conversation because I'm just that bored.
(By the way, my parents forced my sister to try out for the Air Force Academy)
Mom: She said last week that she was glad that we pushed her into this.
Dad: She's just telling you what you want to hear, Jen.
Mom: But she said that now that she's a candidate, she wants to go.
Dad: Then she just doesn't want it enough!
Then they get into this bit about how my sister went out the day before and didn't get enough rest for the next day, which she had to run, do push ups, sit ups, and something else (can't remember right now), and that she knew she wouldn't be rested enough.
Dad: You shouldn't allow her to go to CAP (Civil Air Patrol) anymore. She needs to work on her school work.
Mom: If anything, she should stop guitar lessons and stay home.
Dad: But she hates it here! He looks at me They both do!
Then the spotlight goes on me (my sister's in her room, just so you know).
Mom: Why do you hate it here?
Um, I thought it was obvious.
Me: Kind of the example, right here.
Then I got a nose bleed for some reason... In case you didn't catch why we hate it at home, let me clear it up for you.
Our parents talk about us behind our backs (which I'm sure almost all parents do), but they also talk about us to each other and try to dig into our lives. They yell a lot (as I've said before), at each other, at us, even at the dogs. My sister and I are verbaly abused (which I have recentaly accepted) and it is because of our parents that we compare how much of our ribs, spinal cords, and shoulders stick out. We also compare how boney our wrists, fingers, and ankles are.
I fantisize about death a lot. A LOT a lot. The only thing that's really keeping me going is my writing... 5/2/08 Hopefully I'll be happy by this date, otherwise... I have it all planed out too. In my head though, but there's no way I'll be able to forget.
That's everything, I guess. I feel a lot better after venting.
Have a good day-afternoon-evening-night!