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Jan. 8th, 2003 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
terrypurple73Went over to Bana’s for dinner tonight, us and the parentals. We had a lot of fun- played Loaded Questions, had good food, learned a LOT about each other, etc.
Bana and I decided to go out to Wal-Mart based on a fabulous idea, just to pick up some things, not to work on the project or anything. “Home by 10:30- at the latest,” I was instructed by unhappy parents. Got home at 10:10, and my dad informed me that Mana could stay until 10:30, and then it was straight to bed for me. !!! I don’t remember the last time I had an enforced curfew (as opposed to a let-us-know-when-you’ll-be-home), and I certainly don’t remember the last time I was told when to go to bed. But the real point....
Am I taking the passive-aggressive way out by putting this in my journal here, knowing that they will read it? Maybe. But I don’t think my parents fully understand what I went through prior to coming home, in regards to my realizations about my schoolwork. I have had my own fair share of breakdowns over the years, but this was probably my worst, with the FLP exec rejections being the only one that would come close to competing. I have never been that scared before, in what I believe to be all honesty. I was the biggest wreck I’ve ever seen myself in. When the FLP stuff came about freshman year, I crawled into bed and didn’t want to get out. My head buzzed from crying so much. I don’t know how many times my head buzzed over my realizations about my schoolwork. The thoughts I had going through my head as to what the consequences were going to be were completely out there, but seemed so very likely at the same time. I thought I was going to get kicked out of the social work department. I thought I wanted to LEAVE the social work department. I thought I was going to have to retake two classes, classes that are only offered fall semester, so that would put me a year behind, not letting me graduate with my class. And since I wouldn’t be in school this spring, I was going to have to move out of Community, and live at home, and then work at the daycare center, and then how would the Community have enough money for rent, and they have enough problems as it is, and ohmylord the thoughts raced through my head, and they were a downward spiral. I was terrified. And it feels so silly in so many ways to be terrified about something like grades, but I was. I was an absolute wreck, and I don’t know that I have anything besides my FLP-rejection-wreck to compare it to. And I guess I don’t think my parents understand that I HAVE ALREADY PUT MYSELF THROUGH THE STRESS. The fact that they are going through their stress-stage of this ordeal now is understandable to me, but, oh, NOT HELPFUL. They haven’t been motivating me to work on my paper, they make me dread it more. I have gotten on my own back about this already. I am kicking my own butt into gear. Maybe not as hard as they would like, but I’m kicking. I’ve done my breakdowns, and though the pressure of having a nearing deadline gets my adrenaline going and helps me work and focus, people breathing down my back does not. Guilt does not work. Believe it or not, I can do that part on my own.
Bana and I decided to go out to Wal-Mart based on a fabulous idea, just to pick up some things, not to work on the project or anything. “Home by 10:30- at the latest,” I was instructed by unhappy parents. Got home at 10:10, and my dad informed me that Mana could stay until 10:30, and then it was straight to bed for me. !!! I don’t remember the last time I had an enforced curfew (as opposed to a let-us-know-when-you’ll-be-home), and I certainly don’t remember the last time I was told when to go to bed. But the real point....
Am I taking the passive-aggressive way out by putting this in my journal here, knowing that they will read it? Maybe. But I don’t think my parents fully understand what I went through prior to coming home, in regards to my realizations about my schoolwork. I have had my own fair share of breakdowns over the years, but this was probably my worst, with the FLP exec rejections being the only one that would come close to competing. I have never been that scared before, in what I believe to be all honesty. I was the biggest wreck I’ve ever seen myself in. When the FLP stuff came about freshman year, I crawled into bed and didn’t want to get out. My head buzzed from crying so much. I don’t know how many times my head buzzed over my realizations about my schoolwork. The thoughts I had going through my head as to what the consequences were going to be were completely out there, but seemed so very likely at the same time. I thought I was going to get kicked out of the social work department. I thought I wanted to LEAVE the social work department. I thought I was going to have to retake two classes, classes that are only offered fall semester, so that would put me a year behind, not letting me graduate with my class. And since I wouldn’t be in school this spring, I was going to have to move out of Community, and live at home, and then work at the daycare center, and then how would the Community have enough money for rent, and they have enough problems as it is, and ohmylord the thoughts raced through my head, and they were a downward spiral. I was terrified. And it feels so silly in so many ways to be terrified about something like grades, but I was. I was an absolute wreck, and I don’t know that I have anything besides my FLP-rejection-wreck to compare it to. And I guess I don’t think my parents understand that I HAVE ALREADY PUT MYSELF THROUGH THE STRESS. The fact that they are going through their stress-stage of this ordeal now is understandable to me, but, oh, NOT HELPFUL. They haven’t been motivating me to work on my paper, they make me dread it more. I have gotten on my own back about this already. I am kicking my own butt into gear. Maybe not as hard as they would like, but I’m kicking. I’ve done my breakdowns, and though the pressure of having a nearing deadline gets my adrenaline going and helps me work and focus, people breathing down my back does not. Guilt does not work. Believe it or not, I can do that part on my own.
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Date: 2003-01-11 12:50 pm (UTC)