One of those days

Ugh. I'm having one of those days again.

You know those days? The days where you think that you can't draw? The days where you think you can't write? The days where you think you can't sing? The days where you think you can't play an instrument? The days where you think you can't act? The days where you think you're stupid? Worthless? A waste of space?

That's what I'm talking about.

Only it's not just one of those days. Or one of those weeks. Or one of those months. Or even one of those years (at least I hope not). It's on and off, for days at a time, months at a time, weeks at a time, sometimes hours, sometimes only minutes, sometimes even just seconds and I can barely grasp it.

But I'm definitely having one of those times now.

I don't know why I have such low self-esteem. Maybe it's because other people are always ripping on me. Maybe it's because I'm not getting good grades. Maybe it's because I just feel so pressured I can't fucking take it. Maybe it's because I'm always in trouble, as if I always do something wrong, even though at least half of the time I didn't do anything wrong. Maybe iti's because nobody understands, and if they do they sure as hell don't care.

My latest punishment was the worst in the world. It pushed me over the edge. I tried to strangle myself with a feather boa. I know it sounds stupid, but if I hadn't stopped myself it would've definitely worked. I just couldn't take it. My parents punish me by taking stuff away. They feel that I'm... I don't even know what. They've used so many... "colorful" insults, I've completely lost track. They've taken away my cellphone, my iPod, my computer, my TV, my CDs, my books... But I could live without it. So this time, instead of taking those trivial things, they took something I couldn't live without, my reason for living.

Or maybe my dad just picked up the first thing he saw when he walked into my room with the "intent to smash."

So, now I bet you're asking, "What did they take?"

They took my life.

They took Michael.

For those of you who don't know, Michael is my bass guitar. Not only that, but what I'm really good at, the one thing that makes me feel like I'm worth it. I learned overnight, and you can take that literally. It makes me feel good about myself, being able to play an instrument that I enjoy and find very easy.

And they took that away.

They knew I tried to kill myself, too. But they didn't care. They didn't even care. And that just added insult to injury.

I've got a month until I get him back, and I've been using the first four strings of my old guitar I never learned.

And it's not the same.

I've been feeling shittier than ever ever since they took him. I don't feel like getting up once I'm down. I don't even feel like getting up once I'm up.

And I can tell you what I did, too. NOTHING.

I just wanted to go to church with my friends on Sunday to learn about God. I mean, I didn't want to go to hell or anything, right? I didn't even know what a f*cking Hail Mary was! So I asked, and they said the roads were bad. And yet, they were going to go to my other house and watch football. I asked them about this and they said I was "A selfish little bitch. You don't want to learn about God, you just want to hang out with your friends." Of course, that wasn't true at all. I can hang out with them any other time, whereas I hadn't been to church in FOUR YEARS. And they kept saying they'd take me, but they never did. So I said, "You want me to go to hell, like I want you to!" meaning "You want me to go to hell, it's like I want you to and you're getting me back or something!" but my dad took it out of context and told my other parents I'd damned them or something like that.

First of all, I'm just one kid. I'm not God. I can't just damn somebody. So what the hell? But no, they don't believe me. Just because I'm 13 they don't trust me. So I've got another month of pointlessly trying to live.

Just call it one of those days.
Posted on January 20th, 2009 at 06:46pm

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