I normally hate when people do these all the time, but I need someone to rant to that isn't a tumblr blog no one reads.
The summer for me felt like it didn't actually happen. I felt as though i had a week away from school and I'm thrown back into this hell that I won't be able to escape for so many more years. I started seeing a new therapist near the end of summer because there is a chance that I am Autistic. I had asked my mom about it a while back, and she immediately shook off the idea, claiming that I was completely normal in my development through my childhood years. Something that deeply worries me though is that my mother wasn't around much when I was a kid. I'm not angry with her for that. I couldn't be. She was supporting the family with a shit-paying job that was the best she could get, while my dad slept the day away. But that's not the point. I worry that my mom wasn't actually around enough for her to closely observe how quickly I was developing. I feel like she's just in denial, like my dad was (and still is, I'm sure) of my depression. I distinctly remember having a lot of social problems going through elementary school. I talked to my Gram about it (She was around me a lot more as a kid because my mom would ask her to look after me while my dad was asleep.)somewhat recently. She started to dismiss it, but after I asked a few more specific questions (what age did I start talking, walking, ect.), she looked somewhat puzzled?? I'm not sure if it was puzzled or upset, honestly. Basically, I told my mom that I wanted to see a counselor again with the goal of either confirming or disproving the idea that I might be on the spectrum. When my therapist brought this up with her, she got mad in the car on the way home, throwing it out there that if I did have something it would be on my permanent record. Like yeah, that's the point? I told her that I could get the help I needed. She asked what I needed help with. I didn't really know. i still don't know, but if something comes up, or something happens to me, or I really go off the deep end and something happens because of me being on the spectrum, it would be nice to know I'm not a complete fuck up and have an actual reason for doing the things that I do. (Not that it actually is, I just like making myself feel better with it.) She keeps claiming that I'm turning into my dad's mom, because she's a "hypochondriac". She told my sister that it's likely she has seasonal allergies (And it is VERY likely, considering my dad got them too, and she's displaying a hell of a lot of symptoms.) but my mom is brushing it off as my grandma spouting nonsense. It worries me because she's starting to think that i'm making things up. I don't want to be diagnosed with Autism to "add something to my list" I want to fucking know if I have it or not. Why is that so hard to just let me do?
Now I'm in school and killing myself would honestly be so much easier. I have access to so many things and it's all so tempting when I'm sitting on my bed at 4 in the morning, sobbing, because I have to be awake and ready to face 6 hours of things I can't deal with in an hour. It's so tempting when I blink back tears at the end of my class because I realize I couldn't stay awake to remember what we were assigned. It's so tempting when I come home, deal with 3 dogs, then get bitched at by my sister because I wanted her to do her chores before she went to play. Because if she doesn't do her chores, we all get punished for it. The internet gets shut off until my mom gets home and sees that all chores are done. This is reasonable, but it's also the only charging time I get. When I'm sitting, talking with my friends on skype, or just drawing and letting the world pass by with each song I'm listening to, there aren't any problems. My back doesn't hurt, I'm not depressed, I'm not anxious, I don't have anything to do, and I can just take time for myself. I get an hour of this, on a good day.
Not to mention both moms are so busy they haven't been able to cook. My step-mom has pre-frozen meals that she tosses in the crock pot before they go to work. This would be a lovely system except I feel like gagging any time I look at the meat broiling in oils. I asked my mom if we could buy some fresh veggies soon. She responded with "There are vegetables in the crock pot sometimes." and I just didn't have the heart to explain that I wanted something crunchy and cold. I want my mouth to fill with juice when I bite into a cherry tomato. I don't want grease to ooze from the one tomato slice on my dry chicken. I may sound like I'm just being a picky eater, but I can't even eat dinner at this point. I just grab a bowl of cereal after school and tell my moms that I ate before they came home. That's all I can do.
Now with the threat of diabetes, added to the fact that I don't have the time or the energy to take the dogs on walks like I wanted to, it's made it worse. I am confirmed to be pre-diabetic. I can tell it's getting worse. If I go for too long without eating something, I get so shaky I can't even walk correctly. Everything is weak. At school, everything they feed us is pumped up with chemicals (Cucumbers shouldn't taste like they were dipped in bleach, nor should grapes have tumors on them.) and at home all we've been eating for the past month has been soaking in a pot of hot water and old vegetables since I woke up.
Now, my sister is complaining about school, talking about how she has to "use her brain to play her instrument." I just want to scream in her face that she has no idea how hard she has it, but I know I shouldn't because that would make me the queen of hypocrites. There are so many people that have it so much worse than me I don't know why I even try. Sometimes I wonder why I'm using up this therapist's time when she could be helping someone else who needs it more. My friends are all tired of hearing my shit, so it's a wonder the poor woman I yak the ear off of every week hasn't dismissed me with everything she thought I wanted to hear.
And then when I do draw, it's amazing, and blissful, and I feel so accomplished afterwards. If it's pixel art, I'll post it imediately, otherwise, it'll be a while. The problem with the schedule I have is that pixel drawings can take me anywhere from 2-4 hours. I don't have 2-4 hours of uninterrupted time just to do whatever I need to. Because of this, i have notebooks upon notebooks of doodles for character designs. Erica "Blaze" Davis got a completely new design, and a very long continuation to her storyline. I don't even know if It'll ever get to see the light of day with the way things are going.
I have to lay down know. God knows if my mom comes out and sees me awake 15 minutes past my bed time, she'll claim that it's the reason I can't fall asleep.
Rant's over. I'll read all comments, but not sure if I'll reply to any. Good night.