| 03:22pm 05/12/2010 | |||
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Just to give a heads up, over the next few weeks I hope to actually be posting thing on my poor neglected journal. Most of said posts will be an attempt to process and blurt out on paper a bunch of things that have been banging on my skull for a while, and hopefully they will enjoy their newfound freedom and leave me the hell alone :D Thoughts and such are welcome, but please realize that it's processing, not a mental emergency on my end (as they can be confused sometimes). That said, I am off to go put up Christmas decorations and find a tree. Woot! |
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| Dear Diary.... Today it rained..... | ||||
| 03:03am 04/04/2009 | ||||
Next is Sarah, also 23. She functions as the dad of the house, and neutral party to anything that erupts in the area. Sarah is dating Will, a giant of a man who formerly worked as a prison guard, and would occasionally come home with stories of what his serial-killer of a janitor had recently been up to. Will is one of those back-door computer technical people, you know, one of those handy types that can hack into servers and rewrite things and find bugs on the computer via not-kosher means. He's like a big teddy bear, too. o.o -runs from Sarah- Sarah herself is really sweet, albeit somewhat shallow at times, and generally doesn't know what to do with these things called emotions (as in, she rarely shows them- not that she's unstable, she's actually quite the opposite). After this is Theresa, the youngest one of the house at 19. Although mature for her age, she wasn't forced out of childhood prematurely like the rest of us, and has a tendency to want the world to be according to her. Think Sharpay from High School Musical. The longer I think about it, the fewer differences I can find. They even both eat live and breathe theatre. Theresa's boytoy is Darren, a skater kid who used to go to my college. I say boytoy because there's no other way of explaining it. The child has no interest in sex, or really in boys at all, but she gets along with Darren for some reason, and they have similar interests in many things, and complement each other on the rest. We all know they like each other, but the two of them are too blind to see it for themselves. We find this slightly amusing. Darren, meanwhile, is the oddest skater kid in existence. He's polite. He reads Jane Austen. He listens to classical music voluntarily. And so on... Next on the roster is Caroline, the newest addition to our house (as of January). She is the resident 7 year old of the family, complete with favorite chore being that of unloading the dishwasher. Actually, she is 21, and is enjoying the ability to wander off to a karaoke bar. For the most part, she is a happy bouncy thing, and a bit of a twig... although Rachel swears she's my size... I don't get it... there's no way I'm that small... but, she's cute and adorable in the little sister way, and you just want to squish her. Last, but not least, is Bradford. My ex-boyfriend who still loves me, but just can't decide what to do with himself, or realize that he's not ruining my life by being near me. His relationship with me aside, he is an excellent communicator, and great at mediating and dealing with people. Otherwise, he is kind, caring, compassionate, loving, generous, geeky, and has baggage. Don't we all. Most of the baggage that would show up to just a friend would be his anger issues. He fought his way all through elementary and middle school, and by high school had managed to control it to a point where he was no longer whipping out his pocketknife at the merest threat and chasing kids down the street. He is a full fire, and, like me, an empath. Only, where mine picks up and absorbs pain, sadness, and depression, while he mainly picks up and feeds off of someone else's anger. Needless to say, making him angry is not a good idea. People used to think I was scary when I got pissed.... he's at least twice as powerful... and it's pure, raw energy. Also, he was in the Marines... but they broke him, and he is now a 50% disabled veteran, due to all the little fractures in his feet, legs, and knees. Anywho, our story begins about a week ago, just after Rachel and I got back from dogsitting Brad's mom's demonspawn furballs. We got back on Tuesday. Thursday afternoon, Rachel and I woke up to find the sun shining and the spring cleaning bug upon us. We decided to start with the livingroom, followed by the diningroom and the kitchen. The kitchen had been cleaned by Theresa and Sarah Monday afternoon, complete with washing the bugs off the wall and cleaning above the oven filter. (I should point out here that when we divided up the house chores, Rachel got the kitchen, I got the diningroom, and Sarah got the livingroom, mainly due to the fact that she's the one that primarily makes the mess in it.)However, due to the fact that people do live in this house, there were once again dishes piled to the cupboards, and trash to be taken out. Tsk tsk. Obviously, RaRachel announced to Caroline that we were going to be cleaning, and Caroline promptly whined that she was on her way to work and would miss all the fun. Shortly thereafter, Theresa came upstairs, announcing that she was grumpy, and proceeded to yell at Rachel for having the audacity to clean a room that was someone else's job. She should tell Sarah to clean up the livingroom, and then sit back and wait for it to be done. The next point was that the only reason she and Sarah cleaned so much in the kitchen on Monday was because she figured it was useless to ask Rachel, because she would only say "Oh, I'll get to that when I have time." and thus it would never get done. Rachel was hurt, as she does a great deal of cleaning in the house, and is hardly ever thanked. Also, she had been bothered by the dead bugs and such on the wall (we have those annoying moths that get into your baking things, and kill them whenever they land on the wall. Unfortunately, they are normally on the ceiling, and cleaning them up goes on the 'to-do' list, as it's never over the counter.), and intended to clean it all up when it was actually warm outside, as she needed to put a new coat of paint on the wall, and wanted to be able to open a window for ventilation. Seeing that Rachel was taken aback by the announcement, I calmly pointed out that we had all asked Sarah to clean up the livingroom several times, but that she had been busy and kept forgetting to do it herself, always saying she'd get around to it. Theresa, seeing she didn't have a leg to stand on for the argument, yelled again that we were being ridiculous, and stormed out the front door, slamming it in my face. I was annoyed that she hadn't given me a chance to point out that most of what we were cleaning was our own things (I had to move books, dust them, sweep behind the animal cages, and move the gliders to another room) and cleaning out the fireplace. Really now, it's not quite fair to expect Sarah to clean up after my gliders. After she left, I called Brad and said that if he was bored, we'd appreciate some help cleaning up. He happily accepted and said he and Will would be over shortly. When they got here, Will took one look at the floor and asked if we had a vacuum. I gave him a blank stare and calmly said, "No, Will, we have all hardwood floors." He looked rather sheepish, and I burst out laughing before handing him a broom and dustpan. He was quite happy with the floor after that, and even Swiffered it, too. Brad, meanwhile, kept himself entertained by taking apart our side door in an attempt to figure out why it wouldn't open after it had been locked. Apparently, the inside handle mechanism doesn't work right, and the door can only effectively be opened from the outside. After a while, Brad wandered into my room to help me with my World of Warcraft account, since it didn't like me In about two hours, we had everything cleaned up. The front of the house sparkled, and we were all quite pleased. After the congratulations, we all dispersed through the house to do other things. Brad and Will started playing with Legos, Rachel loaded the dishwasher, and I went to fill out a job application for Toys R Us via the internet. In the middle of all this, Theresa gets home and continues her rant to Rachel about several different things, livingroom and cleaning included. Brad and Will continue to poke the legos, trying to ignore and avoid the mad crazy woman (Theresa). . While we were talking, he made a passing comment that Theresa had yelled at Rachel, and that he wished she wouldn't act like such a brat sometimes. A little while later, I asked his advice on how to better deal with the child. I brought up the times she comes upstairs at 7pm and yells at Sarah for playing Guitar Hero because it woke her up. I realize she works graveyard, but that is by her own choice, and if she's home by 8am, the rest of us being quiet until 5pm or later should be good enough, but it never is. Then you have the fact that she always has to have the last word in an argument, and throws a fit if she loses, or if you bring up a valid point. He nodded and agreed that it was maddening, and then gave me a few tips on how to approach her in such cases. He then went on to point out that the first step would be to establish some sort of personal authority in the house, for both me and Rachel. I was confused. He clarified that since everyone views us as one person, it drives our individual credibility down the tubes. His solution was for us to learn to be slightly more independent, and let people see that we are indeed individual and had our own opinions. I promptly exploded, and informed him that I was happy with the relationship the way it was, as it was better than being alone, and how dare he want me to be alone again, etc. etc. He then clarified his mistake, and said he meant being more like identical twins, rather than Siamese twins. I calmed down and said I could live with that one. Conversation then continued along that line for a while. Later that evening, after he went home, I told Rachel about the conversation. She blew up at the same part I did, but then didn't listen when I tried to clarify. We then spent the next 3 hours fighting, and went to bed around 4, after everything was finally cleared up. We woke up around 8am (Friday), due to something... we aren't sure what, but since we couldn't get back to sleep well, ended up being slightly touchy all day. About 9pm, Sarah asked if we were going to observe 'earth hour', some energy saving thing where you turn off unnecessary lights. We said we'd turn off the closet light, cause we needed the bedroom light on to to clothes sortage. A slight argument then ensued over whether the computer would be turned off, but that was taken care of. (By taken care of, I mean there was yelling, but that it doesn't factor into the larger story here) Shortly thereafter, Rachel wandered into the livingroom to tell Sarah something when Theresa came upstairs and asked if we were participating. And she said it in that 'You are doing what I want, right?' tone. Rachel had had it. So she blew up and yelled at Theresa that she was tired of being a doormat, and being yelled at for things she didn't do, and in general being treated like dirt because no one cares about her life, her feelings, her emotions, or her wishes. Having said that, she whirled around and slammed both the hallway door and the bedroom door in Theresa's face. The next few times she had to walk out to the kitchen, there was more slamming doors, the worst one being after Darren (who had come over with Brad and Will) said he brought chocolate. Rachel said nothing and slammed the door in his face. She realized later what she'd done, and promptly apologized via text message. About 5 in the morning, after she'd calmed down and everyone else was in bed, we finally crashed, only to be woken up at 8am to the melodious sounds of Theresa and Caroline fighting in the livingroom. By the time Rachel was awake enough to crawl out to see what was the matter, Caroline had left for work. Since Theresa was still upstairs, Rachel sat down and calmly explained what the problem had been. Essentially, she wanted Theresa to understand that she doesn't like it when Theresa barges upstairs yelling about things, and then gets angrier when Rachel tries to calm her down so they can sensibly discuss the matter. Nor does she like the fact that she is always the one yelled at. Theresa seemed to understand this, and said she'd work on remembering it. She also inquired as to where the explosion started. Rachel reminded her of the day we cleaned, and Theresa came home and yelled. And that Brad had come in and commented that Theresa was yelling. Theresa, of course, completely missed the fact that she was the one yelling, thus she was rather to blame for it. Instead, she decided that it was Brad's fault because he had not come to her with his disgruntlement, but instead complained to me. Thus, she needed to have a conversation with Bradford. Rachel pointed out that she had the intent wrong, and that if she did have said conversation, it would not go well. Then she came back to bed. Several hours later, we crawled back out of bed and made food. While in the kitchen, Theresa commented to me that she was going to talk to Brad. I also told her that she was missing the point, and that it was just a passing comment, but I was ignored. The rest of Saturday and Sunday passed uneventfully, and Monday rolled around as the last day of spring break. I was sad. Break wasn't really break-full, and I wanted a bit more of it. Rachel and I got up around 3, did a few chores, and then plunked down in the bedroom to bitch about how we had so much homework left to do, and still not touch a bit of it. (You know how that goes, toward the end of a semester) Brad got home around 5, ready to kill his profs at the community college. His econ prof had them get a book that was $50 cheaper, not realizing that it was missing the first 5 chapters needed for the homework. Then proceeded to spend the entire two hours trying to figure out a way to remedy the situation. Then his speech prof spent over an hour going over every detail of the syllabus and making the class much harder than it should have been. On top of that, he got home to find that although Will and Darren had been home all day, nothing had been done and he had a pile of dishes in the sink to clean up, as well as other straightening. Then he looked at Facebook and got more depressed over some stuff said/done, because he felt unloved and under-appreciated. I decided to invite him over before I had to pull his ego and emotions out of the carpet fibers. Besides, my WoW character had meeped and died the night before for no reason and I couldn't revive her. Grrr. So I wanted him to fix her. And help me with a few torrent problems. (Did you know file names can actually be too long for the computer to recognize? It kinda gives up and starts smoking. I was amused. Poor computer.) So Brad said that after he and Will finished 'Monsters vs. Aliens', they'd wander over. About two hours later, they did. It was then we had problems. Brad walked in the door and nodded to Rachel, who was standing between the livingroom and dining room, stalling him while I put on a bra (yes, it was 9pm and I hadn't put one on yet. I'm a loser, I know.) Theresa, sitting on the couch, and in her 'do what I say now, dammit' tone, says "Bradford! If you have a problem with me, I would appreciate it if you came to me and told me, rather than going to someone else and complaining to them." Brad walked over to the guinea pigs, and calmly said "No, I don't have a problem with you, and haven't had a problem with you. It's all a matter of perspective." She got annoyed, and demanded that he sit down and talk to her. He said no, that it wasn't a good time for that, and that he was going to talk to me, and then proceeded to wander off in the direction of my room. Theresa grabbed his arm as he passed the couch and told him that no, she wanted to talk about this now, and he needed to listen to her. He twisted his arm free, and said, coldly, "Don't. Touch. Me." She told him again that she was talking about this now, and he said no, not now. She promptly ordered him out of the house because he wasn't listening to her. (Great reason, I know.) Naturally, he said he wasn't leaving, that he was going to talk to me, and walked toward the door yet again. She threw a mini-fit, and he was all "Bite me", (you know, the 'roll eyes' and 'WhatEVER' form of the phrase) and she said "Fine, I will." He snickered, and said "I'd like to see you try", and walked into my room. She jumped up off the couch, ran after him, and slammed into my door just as he was shutting it. He only got it about halfway there. He tried to close the door anyway, but she wedged herself there so he couldn't. He tried to push her out of the way, and was going to push her chest, but at the last second realized she wasn't a guy and he couldn't do so. In the split second he had to think about it, he pushed her out via her throat. (Before anyone freaks, no, he did not grab her throat. He went for upper chest, and because he was pushing back, the top two fingers and thumb ended up at the base of her throat. I can assure you there was no harm intended.) Mind you, I'm standing in my room ,so I can see what's going on. It wasn't a grip to hurt her, just push her out of the way so he could shut the door, and as soon as she was arm's length away, he let go immediately. She freaks out and starts yelling at him, and he yells back, saying that he was defending himself. She says he had no reason to. He said that she threatened him physically, came after him, and even attacked the door trying to get to him. Thus he was defending himself from a physical threat. She asked if he honestly thought she would hurt him, and he said that he didn't know, but if she attacked the room he was in trying to get to him, that was a pretty sure sign in his mind that she had ulterior motives, and was indeed a threat. She then pouted and said that he should know better, because he'd known her for 5 years. He said he couldn't trust her any further than he could throw her. Of course, she asked why, in the "But I'm an innocent angel!" voice. He said because she was unpredictable. She gave him a blank stare. He went on to say that because she didn't respect people, or their boundaries, or know when to back down, and when given an order by any party, pretty much throws the order back in their face and says 'No! I don't wanna!". She, then, is of course hurt and offended, and the whole conversation shifts a bit. More to her standing there going 'But I just don't understand....' and Brad trying to tell her that now is not a good time to talk , and that he would appreciate it if they could discuss this at a later date, because he was angry, and this was not a good situation, as he had already done more than he would have liked, and didn't want to risk doing anything further that he would regret. She said no, she wanted to talk to him now. (I should point out that this is the third time he's asked to be left alone.) By this point, he's nearly begging her. Then they went back to the fact that he was defending himself, that she came after him. She retorted that she did not come after him, she came after him to have a conversation. (The 19 of us wanted to burst out laughing at the logic there) He continued with the whole 'please leave me alone', and she went back to demanding he leave. He still refused. Since they were now talking in normal tones, I went back to sit down by the computer, as I was having a hard time standing. By this point, he's given up on being left alone, and finally gave in to having the conversation, since he'd lost the entire war. She of course only had to state that she wanted him to tell her directly when he had a problem with her, because it was a big deal to her, and was personal, and was a sensitive issue, blah blah blah. He coldly pointed out that it was, and that she was much harder on men. There was no response. I don't know what happened after that, as I could only hear, and they were out of my line of sight. I don't know if she moved, or he just blew up. He didn't move though, I checked when I got up. All I know is the next thing was him yelling "No! Get out of my face!" She of course said she wasn't in his face. (she was about 12" away from it), and he argued that if she was within arm's reach, she was in his face, and would she please back away now before he did something. So that went on, and the argument ran through pretty much all the main points again, and then she went back to him leaving. He said no yet again (I should point out here that the way our house is set up, my bedroom door and the hallway door are at a 90* angle.... if he's in the bedroom doorframe, and she's in the hallway doorframe, there is no way in hell he can get out because she is blocking the door.) Then she started demanding he leave, and that she didn't know why he was here, but she assumed- and here I broke in and said that I'd invited him. She then asked me to tell him to leave. I said I'd take care of it, but she needed to back away now. Then it was 'Please, for my sake, blah blah blah' I repeated what I said before. Then she yelled "Fine! I see how it is!", whirled around, burst into tears, and ran out of the house, slamming the door. Rachel came back upstairs, Brad slowly unfroze from the door, and crumpled to the floor, he was shaking so bad. I stepped just barely in arms reach, and waited a few minutes. He asked for some water, Rachel ran off and got it, and after he'd pulled himself together, staggered out the door. The next morning, (Tuesday) Theresa files a police report against him (she spent the night in Hillsboro, one of the suburbs she grew up in). She then calls a house meeting while Sarah's asleep, Caroline is at work, and I'm in class. Rachel said she couldn't, but of course that meant oh so much. By the time she actually got home, I was the only one not accounted for, so she plowed on with her speech. She stated that she would be looking for a new place of residence, and that Brad could no longer come over to the house while she still lived here, or she would called the cops and have him forcibly thrown out, as she felt threatened by him. By this point, Rachel is at a middle point between actual fear of Theresa and her psycho-ness, and anger at her oversized temper tantrum at not having her way. Sarah informs Theresa that she is scaring Rachel, and asks that she calm down a bit so that Rachel can pay attention and not freak out so much. Theresa ignores her, turns around, and starts talking to Caroline. A few minutes later, she left again, and we haven't seen her since. She did drop off rent, but only paid for a week and a half, assuming that she could pay per week until she moved out. Unfortunately, this is not how rent runs in our house (or anywhere else, last I checked), and she didn't run it by either me or Rachel before doing so. As such, we will be leaving a note on her bed saying that since she only paid through next week, she needs to be out by 5pm next Saturday (11th). If she's not out by then, we have every intention of issuing a restraining order. I think this is the majority of the way it unfolded. Now, here are my major issues with the 'You're threatening me' argument. 1) When a female is attacked by a male, is not the first response to kick him in the nuts? 2) When anyone, human or animal, feels threatened, is not the natural reaction to find a way to escape the situation? (She had the bedroom at the other end of the hallway, and the entire rest of the house. Brad had the dead end that is my room.) 3) If attacked by someone who is now holding your throat, would you cling to the opposite doorframe for dear life because staying put and continuing the conversation was more important than your life? 4) When ordering one out of the house, does not the person issuing the order step aside so the person ordered to leave can do so? 5) Once out of the situation, would not the threatened person call the authorities immediately, rather than waiting over 12 hours? 6) Wouldn't said person press charges? 7) Issue a restraining order? On Thursday, Theresa sent the following in a Facebook message to Brad: "Bradford, I'm writing this to update you on a few things. One, I have filed a police report about what happened the other day. Two, I do not want you coming to the house so long as I am living there. Should you see fit to show up, I will ask you to leave. If you choose not to leave, I will call the police. I double checked with the officer I filed the report with, and it does not matter that my name is not on the lease, it does not matter if you are invited over. So long as one of the residents of the house does not want someone there and asks that person to leave, that person is required by law to leave. If they choose not to, it is considered trespassing. So I'm asking you now, please do not go to my house for anything. I'm pretty sure I have made this clear to my roommates, but when I go back tomorrow, I will make reiterate this. Three, I want no further contact with you. No phone calls, texts, emails, messages, nothing. And from here on out, I will not contact you. Four, I am not asking you, nor anyone in any way connected with us to "take sides." I am not asking for interference, advice, cutting ties, nothing. If anyone wants a relationship with you, that is their business and I will stay out of it. All I ask is that you grant me the same courtesy. Five, you are free to visit the house after I have moved out. At that point it will no longer be considered my place of residence, and you may go over and stay as long and as often as you want at the will of the current residents. Six, at this point I do not want to press charges, but I'm giving you fair warning now, that if I feel threatened, intimidated, or otherwise endangered by you or anyone else, I will not hesitate to take appropriate action by calling 911. If all this seems harsh to you or in any way "unfair to men," I am sorry you feel that way - but I will not set precedence in my head or anyone else's that grabbing someone by the neck and yelling in their face is in anyway permissible behavior. And that is the long and the whole of it. Best wishes, Theresa" I would like to point out the ridiculousness of point 5... he is free to visit after she leaves? No fucking duh.... really child.... Anyways... I think this is all of it... Advice? Comments? Questions? |
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irate| The game of life is hard to play, I'm gonna lose it, anyway... | |||
| 02:38am 14/07/2008 | |||
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Some days, the world starts crashing around you, and while it sucks, you can still look around and say, "Hmm, well, at least I can see how all that crap last week led up to this mess." Those days are still shit, but at least you can still make some sort of sense out of life, and consider the possibility of moving on. ... Then you have days where the world crashes, and there is simply nothing left... a black hole now stands where your heart used to be, effectively draining all the love, light, and happiness out of what is now supposed to be called your life. Whatever anchor was there to hold you down has vanished, despite the fact that there's always something to hang on to. It's not what you wanted it to be, therefore your brain says that nothing is left. ... What do you do with those days? I didn't do anything.. it was in no way my fault... but... Figuring out what to do now is one of the hardest things I've ever had to attempt, if not the hardest. I spent the last 3 months creating a world with someone... someone who promised to always be there.. and now is not.. and never will be again.. and I really don't know what to do with it... I'm tired of hearing that God does things for a reason, and that He only gives us pain with our best interest in mind. It doesn't add up any more. I'm at the point of thinking that if there is indeed a God, He has got to be the most pure sadist to ever be found. Good things come with a price, not necessarily from above. I'm slowly starting to realize this. It really sucks... I miss the God I thought I had a few years ago... maybe He went on vacation, and the substitute (Bruce) lost control of things in Brooklyn... As my dear Roommate stated earlier, "God, can you love me a little less?" -sigh- I think maybe I'll become an Amazon.. it sounds quite tempting at the moment... Currently, I'm just numb.. remembering how much easier it makes life. I'm also thinking of staying here permanently... saves a lot of pain in the long run... The game of life is hard to play I'm gonna lose it anyway The losing card I'll someday lay so this is all I have to say. The only way to win is cheat And lay it down before I'm beat and to another give my seat for that's the only painless feat. The sword of time will pierce our skins It doesn't hurt when it begins But as it works its way on in The pain grows stronger...watch it grin, but... 'Cause suicide is painless it brings on many changes and I can take or leave it if I please. |
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geryon |
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