Deja vu

The second blog I've written that's actually about me. Well, it's a combination of my friend and myself. I like to write Blogs about whatever random issue addresses me, but almost never myself. I guess you could say I've been really stressed out lately, and I need to unleash some of my frustrations. My mind's ready to explode at any minute, really. This feels really weird, having everyone read about my own problems and insecurities... but I just need to get them out. I'm way stressed right now. I'm not looking for sympathy or anything, just some ears.

This week one of my friends in Spanish class was really quiet today. So I heard her talking to the guy next to her, and she kept asking all these questions about his uncle who died of prostate cancer. And then she started talking about her mom, saying that her doctors think she has cancer. So... I don't know, I guess I told her about my situation. That my dad has prostate cancer, and she started stressing and asking me all these questions, along with the other guy. She said that she cried her eyes out when she found out, and she's been so scared. Even one of her friends asked, "Hey, why are you so quiet today?" And she's popular and REALLY loud, that's definitely saying something.

So, the next day, she tells me that her mom did have cancer, but they found it early enough and could take it out. She's still worried it might come back, but she already sounded really bubbly again. She asked me how long my dad's had cancer, and I tell her four years. Then, she asks a weird question: "How long did it take your dad to get better after surgery?" And I say, "After surgery? He didn't have surgery. They found the cancer too late." Then, the other dude and her look really sympathetic and say they're sorry and stuff, they were really shocked.

When I was 11, when I found out he had cancer and all, I was too young to understand. Yeah, I knew what it was like to have some hard times, because my parents split up twice back then and I was caught in the middle, but it was too much for my mind to accept. So, I went into some sort of denial stage. I didn't even THINK about my dad having cancer until my grandpa died two years later. We live with my grandparents because no one else takes care of them. My grandpa was, LITERALLY, a second father. We've lived with them since I was 4, and I lost him when I was 13. Everything sank in. My dad. My grandpa. It's like all these burdens just came upon me. I fell into depression. I developed a lot of phobias and other fun things like that. I developed a perfectionist attitude. I hated myself. Life sucked back then, and it did for another year and a half. I was just mad all the time.

I never talked to anyone about it, and by the time I just snapped with pressure, I would come bursting into my mom's room, screaming and crying. It's really amazing how things like that totally screw up a family. It's the scariest thing, I just can't explain how the actual experience affected me. But then, half-way through eighth grade, things shaped up a little. Sure, my dad was getting worse, but I began to accept things. I got really well-liked in my class and sports really gave me that edge. I was really happy. And then I started high school. And then life sucked again.

All my best friends went to another school. The "friends" that went with me to school here, the friends I sacrificed SO MUCH for, you really have no idea, left me for "more and better friends." I developed some social phobia. I'm uncomfortable around all this. Because on top of all the things going on at my home, I started to come to a lot of realizations. In high school, you're judged by everything, and girls are vicious. I'm a perfect target. We're not rich, we don't have a big house or a lot of money, HELL NO. I'm not pretty, and I'm no longer confident about myself. I'm almost on the bottom of the social ladder. People don't know me. I feel like I'm going to be teased again, I just have that FEAR. I'm so disgusted with myself for this. I liked my old environment better! I hate this!

Then my dad got sicker and then my cousin and her newborn son moved in. I'm almost ignored at my home, I feel like. I feel guilty for not having enough time or energy to help out at home because my mom has to do everthing. My grandma's a lazy ass and won't help out because she's too busy pitying herself. My dad's sick. My cousin's at school. My mom is the only one who can work, and then she comes home, does all the work, makes dinner, and then babysits until my cousin comes home. My mom's always cranky with me, she's the only person I really talk to, her and my cousin. But I don't have any to talk to about how I feel, everyone's too busy except for my dad. But I can't tell him. He over-analyzes things and then I'll start making him cry and whenever my dad cries I get angry. Because it shows me he's sick. That's my denial talking, cause I secretly try to pretend my dad's not sick so everything can be normal again.

And then I found out some interesting things about my grandma. See, my grandpa used to drink a lot, and my grandma would just blame everyone else for all the problems that went on in my mom's family. She wouldn't watch her kids or anything, just let them do whatever because they're not a part of her. She lies about that, whenever someone asks. She says that, wherever she went, her kids were always by her side and they wouldn't dare misbehave. My ass. She once put a knife to her throat, my mom had to stop her. My grandpa once tried to commit suicide, my mom had to save him too, but only because he was drunk at the time. My grandpa was a good person! He had a drinking problem back then, but he got tha straightened out later. I love him. But there's no excuse for my grandma. My mom has to compensate for her lack of doing anything.

So I feel guilty, like I said. Because I try and pull my weight with grades and sports so I can make something for this family and a future for myself. One of the few people in the family who actually tries to succeed with school and all that. But I'm wiped out when I come home. I feel bad that I don't help my mom. I feel like everything that's going wrong is my fault, and there's more that I can be doing. I beat myself up for it all the time.

This sounds so cliche, but I honestly have no one to relate to and no one to talk to. Whenever things are going rough at home, I have no one to call. I mean, yeah I have friends of course! But... no best friends, both left me. So that's why I'm posting this here. Cause I'm really stressed and I just needed to rant. So there.