Disgruntled

I'm so disappointed in people today. I get very annoyed when people shirk their duties and make BS excuses. The least you could do is tell me honestly so I can find a solution, instead of ditching and going out to eat instead. It's just so tiring trying to keep up with people anymore. I just want to hide under the covers like Larry. He doesn't have to worry about anything at all. If there's one word to describe how I feel right now, it is "disgruntled." Ugh, right. There's that.

There's also so much work and AP Art. I think I still have about three pieces to finish? So of course what I do is blog. It does help relieve pressure. I get overwhelmed easily and I need to decompress. The last two posts have been scheduled posts, so I actually haven't blogged in days. It's been such a long time since I've written those two posts that I don't even remember what they say. It's hard to believe that just a year ago, I was depressed out of my mind. Sure, I still feel down sometimes, but I know it isn't depression. Depression is a monster all its own, something that those neurotypical solutions – "take bubble baths, try essential oils, eat quinoa" – doesn't cure, because everything takes so much effort, and there is only emptiness inside. Its unique and distinctive, and I don't ever want to experience it again. Good riddance.

Besides the suffocating pressure of having so much work to do, I've actually been doing quite well. This morning, I accomplished a lethally fast cat eye, less than one minute flat. The new brushes are great, I will be posting on those, and many other things, soon. Those two little lines of flicked eyeliner bring about such a sense of wicked accomplishment – just a little thing to set the day off right. I've resolved to properly learn how to do makeup – skin, lips, eyes, the whole shebang. I keep telling myself that I won't be one of those people who are insecure without makeup, but who knows, that just might happen. But I do know I feel happier looking into the mirror seeing a bright eyed, refreshed person, rather than an ashy zombie that just rolled out of bed, so no harm no foul. It's empowering. I can do anything I want.

Things are looking up. I've scheduled time the week after AP testing to get a few things figured out, including personal care, college plans, and budgeting. I like to know what's going on in my life and plan ahead if possible. I want to know the details of what kind of shampoo is best for me, what computer I want, what foods are available. It's the first step towards independence. My parents are still controlling my life in a lot of ways, and I just need to do something without their approval (nothing illegal of course). I want to get a new computer that I will buy with my own money, but they won't let me. I don't understand why not? If I wait and buy it with their permission, there's still lingering hints of their jurisdiction in that decision. I have a need as strong as a fish needs to swim to be my own person. I want to know what I'm doing, and then do it. As Emma Watson says:

On the plus side, I've made one big decision in finding a roommate for college. I did the housing and search entirely on my own. So far I like her a lot. She's from the Seattle area, a generally cool person, and is friends with Adora Svitak, a (former) child prodigy, who she worked on organizing a TedX conference with, which is really interesting. We share a lot of interests, dislikes, and habits, so I think we'll get along well. And even if we don't, all I'm really looking for is a roommate who won't be too loud, drink, or smoke, so it shouldn't be an utter disaster. She's also slightly more outgoing than I am, so I'm hoping that pushes me towards a more adventurous experience in college, and breaking away from some of my ingrained tendencies to play it safe.

Now I breathe a little, maybe take a shower, and pick up the paintbrush again as I finish those last minute pieces for AP Art. It's only frustrating on a strict time schedule, which is why I love writing so much more now. There are no real deadlines on this blog. I do what I want (though I really wish I had time to post more). It reminds me of how much I love words. I love language. Recently, a friend of mine told me that I talked like a thirty year old. Perhaps that is weird, but I enjoy utilizing a precise vocabulary. Writing lets me diffuse the frustration, and let the thoughts flow – out of my brain. Sometimes I look back and see that maybe some of it is insightful, but nevertheless tainted with teenage melodrama. This particular post is nowhere as wrathful as I'd thought it'd be, mostly because I'm just so damn tired, and bit because good music put me in a better mood. Time to put it out into the world and move on with life. ◊