Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Crossing a Line
I know that I probably went too far with my Dad today. I know it. But I'm suffocating in my own body. Just trying to make it through the day. Literally, I feel like someone is trying to kill me from inside my body. And today, the fight with my Dad, was the last thing I needed.
Did I cross a line? I think I might have. But this is me. Carrying all of this. Not just what is happening right now, in the here and now. But the stuff from my past. The stuff that I'm working through in my counseling and therapy. This stuff, it would KILL my Dad if he knew. My parents wouldn't be able to deal with these facts. So I don't tell them. I carry them. And the only person that I really ever talked to about it, well he's in heaven now. Patrick left this world with my secrets. The things that weigh so heavily on my life, heart, and soul.
I did tell my Dad that I wished I'd die. Die right there. Because maybe then, I wouldn't be such a burden for him. Did I tell him I wished a semi truck would hit me on the road? Yes. And it was also me that said, maybe some weirdo will kill me in the night, in my hotel room. I said these things. Because it seems like I'm a burden to people. To the people I love. That I only bring misery and stress.
If I died today, no one would have to pay anything. I decided a while back, I would donate my body to science. That way someone would learn something. And my family wouldn't have to worry about the expense of my death. It's all in my Will. Just a way for me to deal with it. I have no bills, beyond school. So it wouldn't be a financial burden. The only kind that really bothers my Dad.
My brother hates the fact that I go to my parents' house. The other day, he told me why do I have to come so often. Why am I there? Literally, I sleep the night, and I'm gone in the morning, to the next town to work! But it bothers him. In his words, "I ruin his entire week!" What would Dad have to say about that?
I know it bugs my Dad that I haven't graduated. But again, I'm trying. I work hard. I get good grades. But financially, I can't keep up. So I'm a burden, a failure, and just a bundle of stress to him.
So I told my Dad, that I wished God would just take me. Take me anyway that he needed to. Be it in a car accident, a murder, a massive heart attack, in my sleep, a shooting...whatever means necessary. Because I feel like then, I wouldn't have such a negative effect on people's lives. You know what I mean?
Tonight, Dr. B told me just what she thinks of me. In the middle of a meeting with my professors, who I'm supposed to be teaching with this week, she told me I'm nothing but a failure. I'm never going to make it. I'm just causing her stress, and she doesn't need me on her team for the week. There you go.
I disappoint everyone. My professors, my supervisors, my parents, my family, my friends, the people I work with, and Dean C. But I'm only one person. Trying to do it all. Maybe if I died, it would improve the life of others. It's not that I want to die. But it seems the only way to make people happy.
A penny for my thoughts? Maybe then, people would listen to me. Really hear what I'm saying. See that I'm not as strong as I appear. That I'm just human. Holding it together, the best way I know how to. No need for tears. Because I've had a pretty good life. No matter what tomorrow brings, I've done the best that I could. ♥