“I Ain’t Sayin’ She’s A Gold Digger…”

Holy blog post, Batman! It’s been how long since my last post?! I don’t even know what the hell I ended up talking about but with things getting darker outside, things inside are getting darker so you know what that means…type like mad, and pray they don’t see your tears!! I can’t even think of where to begin on this whole, fun little journey I’ve taken over the past few weeks. Pause, let me go read my last post to pick up from whence I came…I have returned! I was talking about school. Which, hasn’t really changed all that much, except for the fact that now things are approaching due dates and deadlines. Papers, group projects (*gag*), tests and things are all suddenly due before Thanksgiving holiday. It’s insanity and everyone, and I mean everyone is feeling the pressure. I’m keeping up with my deadlines (I’ve missed one in my Family Studies class–I was sick the day before so I kinda feel like that one is excused. I wasn’t worked up about it!) but that doesn’t mean the pressure isn’t slowly crushing me to death. All my innard-juice is leaking out from the inside and I’m dying by the sheer weight of schoolwork. That mountain of textbooks I mentioned in my last post finally fell over but instead of landing on a small child, it landed on me! Last week was all registration week for a good chunk of the school so the whole campus was up in arms, fighting about getting into certain classes and seeing advisors to know when they would graduate. It was total insanity. I got to register early because I’m registered with the disability office, yet another hidden benefit of that. I got all the classes I needed but for some reason, I sort of forgot that you have to pay for college. I got the e-statement from the school a few days later and just…lost it. Ever since then, things haven’t been right. It seems like everything is slightly off balance. I don’t know where I’m going to get the money to pay for this semester. I’m applying for scholarships (I actually just did ten tonight) but that’s only going to get me so far. I can’t be optimistic, as pessimistic as that is to say. And then I start to stress about the holidays because it’s that time of year and the pigs that are in charge of the corporations of America like to make us think that Christmas needs to start before we’ve even celebrated Halloween. People are asking me what I want, which sends me into a tailspin about how I don’t want anything because that means spending money. All the people I love spend way too much money on me as it is, so I don’t want anything. My parents are already replacing the tires on my car, which is too much for me to ask for in any lifetime, and now my dad is talking about getting me a tablet. God, I’m not trying to sound like a spoiled brat that is complaining because she’s rich. I’m really not. I’m not trying to sound like anything, really. I just want to make it clear that my problem is that I don’t want people to spend money on me because I don’t deserve it. This is what comes up around the holidays. The sort of self-loathing, self-hatred feelings that I’m not good enough and don’t deserve their praise and gifts. I’m the one who should be showering them in love and affection and even that will never be enough. Then, Thomas came home this weekend which sent my parents off into tangents whenever they got the chance about him paying for school. It’s been money talk all weekend. Times like this, being related to Tony Stark would be really nice. We were raking leaves today and even talking about it then, I had to walk away because the conversation was so overwhelming I started to cry, right there. I don’t think it helps that it’s getting darker sooner so I’m more inclined to go to bed at like 6:00, instead of a more reasonable time, like 10:00. I don’t really know how to beat that one except to buy one of those lights used to treat light therapy. The problem there is that I used the magic word in that sentence: buy. I do not want to do that. I’ve become so invested in things at church (basically making over their entire public image and the Deacons’), Vladimir (yea, we’re dating), and now all this stuff about what to do for next semester. It’s too much. I don’t know what to do. “…this ship will carry on…”