We’re done

Attention!!! This post contains some strong language and swear words!

I hadn’t cried in quite a long time. At least for my standards.
But I’ve never cried out of anger. Repressed anger.
And possibly something help. I’ve been feeling terrible these couple of days, really really down. And it hasn’t happened in at less a couple of months. I had managed to get out of it. I even did two fucking exams. Just 6 months ago I cried just by thinking of university. I was getting better for fuck’s sake.

I don’t want to sound obnoxious but in the family life, I am pretty much invisible and soooooo low key. I’m not expensive, I don’t ask for money, I don’t go to parties, my parent don’t have to drive me around, I keep quiet, I do what they ask me to. I basically have no life. But I’m sure you already knew that.

But for the first time in ages I was really really interested in something: I wanted to see my favourite mystery novel author at a bookstore where he is presenting his lastest masterpiece. (Which is set in Italy BTW).

Sadly taking the train isn’t an option. The city is an hour away from where I live and hte bookstore is at a 25 minutes distance from the station. The city is said to be VERY dangerous at night. Especially for a women. (Fuck those creeps that prevent us from ever enjoying ourselves without the fear of been attacked).

So I asked my mom for help and she said she wasn’t comfortable driving me to this city at night (the event starts at 9PM) and that I should ask my father.

So I did! And he checked his calendar and said yes! I seriously thought it was a miracle. He is NEVER free. Let me say this: we don’t have a great relationship. We don’t usually talk to each other, aside from “are you coming home to lunch?” from me and “tell mom I’ll be late” from him.

For a day and a half, I was over the moon. This was my THIRD try to see the author. THIRD. And both times I was not allowed to go. (I still throw it in my mother’s face every chance I get)

Then when we were at dinner Saturday, I found out that he actually wasn’t free. That he had a gig he didn’t remember of.
So I looked at him with a glare that would have incenerated him and said: “I’ll fucking kill you”. It got resolved fairly quickly as they moved the date!

I was so fucking naive to even click the “I will attend” button on the event of Facebook and I was literally jumping up and down.
Until Sunday afternoon. I am not kidding. This is what actually happened.
I might sound like a spoiled child and I don’t fucking care. I’ve wanted to meet the author and get his autograph since I was 15. That’s it. I literally haven’t asked anything else.

Back to the story, my father came in and told me he has orchestra rehearsals that day and that he couldn’t take me.

I had tears in my eyes but frankly, I didn’t want him to see me cry. He knows nothing about what I have been going through this past year and I sincerely hope my mother has not spilled the beans or I’ll fucking lose it.
Anyway. I just looked at him and said: “do not ever talk to me again”.
And then I just yelled at him in front of my grandparent. Great! 😒🙄

What really hurt me wasn’t that he can’t take him. Otherwise I would have got angry with my mother as well. It’s the illusion he let me have for that glorious day and 1/2. I fooled him into taking him, making him feel like the “cool” parent who wants to right a wrong made by his wife 5 years ago. I played him like a fucking idiot. But apparently I got played back.
What really angered me is that his things and interests always come first. He does whatever the fuck he wants. I make lunch, he says he’s not hungry. He heats up dinner once and then shouts that nobody is helping him clean out. And who the fuck helped me?
Also, how come he didn’t say: “I have to take my daughter to see her favourite author.” Or “can we do it earlier? I have plans with my daughter”.
I’m not asking him to talk to me everyday or know what exams I have or what I am doing with my life. For once, I asked for something. 4 hours of his life.

But apparently, I’m not important enough.

Missing two trains, Univeristy stuff and headaches

On Wednesday, I had the worst day.

It was really bad.

Weirdly enough, mentally, I was almost ok. But let’s start from the beginning: I emailed a few of my university professor in order to get the materials to study for my exams and so I had to go to Uni and actually talk to them. I need to do at least 2 exams this year or my mom will have a heart attack and I will have to explain to people why I didn’t, so in order to avoid all of this lying and unnecessary stress, I’m doing this. Even if it devastates me.

IMG_6628Anyway, I knew that if I didn’t have anyone pushing me to go talks to the professors, I wouldn’t have gone. But I did.

To summon everything up, my friend arrived late to pick me up and we missed out train. So we arrived in Venice late and therefore I got to the building where the professor was holding meetings late and I spent an hour waiting. Then we went back to the station and guess what? We missed the train AGAIN because my friend was again LATE.

But I held it. I didn’t say anything, I stayed calm. Even though this caused me to be late again, I ate in a haste and then I went to tutor some kids. For almost four hours. With an excruciatingly painful headache.

I’ve been suffering from terrible headaches recently. Like this one, they start at midday, I can’t concentrate and even moving ONE muscle feels like nails drilling into my brain.

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I really kept my cool, not a scrap of makeup on my face and kept on smiling. But the real question is: how can you miss two trains in the span of 5 hours. Please tell me. I repeatedly told her I had a full day and no time to waste.  I had to go back the next day and I sooooooo didn’t tell her that I was. I was truly upset.

I hadn’t slept very well the night before. I was so scared about going to Venice and dealing with all of that university stuff. I’ve been doing a little bit better, studying for my driving license exam and opening the uni website without having a panic attack. So, of course, I took this opportunity for actually getting things done.

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Franky, I don’t know what’s been going on with me. Some days are awful. Some are better. This week it’s been good. The last one wasn’t. I sat on my bed crying for a while, feeling too frightened to even get out of the house.

Tomorrow is Easter. The family will gather both on Sunday and on Monday. This means questions, scrutiny and a lot of judgy looks. Let’s hope next week is going to be just as good at this one. Without the missed trains.

Have a nice weekend!

Georgia