I'm Depressed (But not Really, Though). Please Read !

I've been wanting to post an entry about some stuff that's been going on lately in my majestical life (got that from JennaMarbles- look her up on YouTube), mostly ranting, but now, not so much. Right now I'm at my grandma's house, listening to her tea/coffee kettle thingy squeal, doing what it does. I have dance at one o'clock, which I really don't want to go, but we have a recital on the 23rd, which I also don't want to go to because I came to dance late, and I still don't remember all the routines.
My memory sucks.
Anyway, let me tell you the most horrific day of my life yesterday, that luckily, my mom isn't SO mad about. Or upset. Or sad? I doubt it.
First, at school, during English I was asking my friend a question, if he saw the movie Fast Five (I saw it two days ago- AWESOME). Then, a kid with all the talk but no smack who sat next to my friend told me to shut up. We got into this argument, and he said I have yellow teeth (I checked in the mirror- I do not. I brush my teeth twice a day and sometimes floss when I have the energy to), a melon head, and that my teeth were crooked, although I recently got my braces taken off, and I'm wearing the retainers at night... stupid kid, right? Anyway, this kid likes to get into everybody's business and try to mess with people's head, but everybody, including him, knows that without his little crew of followers, he'd be nothing. Nada. Zilch. Anyway, he told my friend to say no to the question he never even heard, and my friend was confused. I played off the bashing like it was nothing, told my other girl friend that I'd like to throw him our the window and get hit by a bus and die (it was a spur of the moment thing- I'm sure PLENTY of people have had the recurring thought). But, on the inside, I wanted to cry.
See, I play off as tough, which I really am... on the outside. I've made myself a rep where you don't mess with me, or you will get hurt. Not seriously hurt (I think), but enough to make you scared of me. The only reason I did that is because I'm really a baby inside, who cries easily. But nobody in my school has seen me cry.
At least not yet.
I'm known as tough, demanding, and NOT a crier. And this kid talking smack? Whenever a girl walks up to him and is about to hurt him, he runs away like a little girl! I would say another word, but I can't really, because, well... you know. Cussing and all. Anyway (and I know I keep saying this) I went home feeling like crap- OH! Sorry, forgot something! My first period, math, this other kid I've known for like nine years puts on someone's headband, and I told him another guy that wore it first 'looked better.' He told me shut up, called me an adult female dog, and started cussing like crazy about me and my mom.
You can imagine how much I wanted to punch him, set him on the roof, and just kick him into traffic.
And we've known each other for nine years! You'd think we'd have some kind of good relationship, but NOO, this kid is just like the one talking smack in English. Without his little group, he's nothing. And he thinks he's better than everybody, but when it comes to the physical stuff, what does he do? Runs away. Just ruuuuuuuuns away. And the two guys that always talk smack say they can fight, they're tough, blah blah blah, but they know they're one. For one, the one I've known for nine years is a string bean, and the other one if kind of heavy- I don't know if it's a boy thing or something- yet he's 'powerful.'
God, I can't wait until this school year is over. I want to tell my mom I want to change schools for the eighth grade, but that'll be my third time changing middle school in like, two years or something like that. Plus, what school is gonna take me for only eighth grade, when I'm obviously going to change to a different high school the next year? Plus, I'm scared of my mom.
Okay, back to what I was originally going to say. I went home feeling like crap, and when I got there, I saw I had an appointment at two. My mom was already home (she took work off. Usually I'm a latchkey kid), and she got dressed, we picked up my little sister, and we were off to the doctor.
My mother told me it was for a physical. She told me I wouldn't need to get any shots. Oh, but little did SHE know!
It went great for the first half hour or so. I was 96 pounds, 4 feet and eleven inches and a quarter (my dream is to become five feet, my mom if super short, being at the height of exactly five feet, so I think my dream is crushed. Thanks, mom), my eyesight was just a liiiiiiiitle better in my left eye than the right, and everything was good with me. Then, at the actual doctor, I was perfectly fine, but may have 'a slight case or scoliosis.' What's scoliosis? I don't know. Ooh, let me Google it now.
OMG. I went on wiki, and it said scoliosis is when the spine is in a S or C curve inside of a straight line. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG I'm scared now... Anyway, back on topic...
He said I'd need an X-RAY, then asked me a few questions. When everything checked out, my mom came back in and the doctor said I'd need a shot to prevent circulatory disease or something like that, since it's common in adolescents or whatever, and I'd also need to draw blood.
Let me tell you something about myself: I am PETRIFIED of shots. Like, the type of scared when someone comes behind you with a knife on your neck and demands something, but worse. I seriously think I have a phobia or something. Like, seriously. Ooh, another thing to Google.
Okay, so it's called Trypanophobia, the fear of needles. It has, like, three different other names, but whatever. DId you know Jackie Chan, Conan O'Brien, Derrick Rose, Snoop Dogg, and some other famous people I don't know have it? Crazy, right? Okay, so, I went in the waiting room, acting like nothing, but when it was my turn, I had a freakin' panic attack or something. It had to go like next to my left shoulder, which was NOT my cup of tea. I stalled by asking a bunch of questions, barely understanding her 'cause her English was terrible being that she was another race, when my mom got pissed off and told me to take the needle. I kept telling her I was afraid, she kept telling me don't be afraid (great reassurance, mom), and fifteen minutes later, the needle still wasn't in my arm. Plus, it was the cancer shot that I didn't HAVE to take. I said I'd be fine downstairs drawing blood because it was more on my arm than my shoulder.
Wow. I am unbelievable.
Perhaps my mother and the doctors do not understand the word 'fear.' Fun fact: did you know understan is a word? I meant to write understand before, but missed the d, and there was no red squiggly line! Cool, huh? Okay, back to the story. Fear, according to dictionary.com, is "a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid." And I when I say I have a fear of needles, I mean it! A serial killer can kidnap me and that fear with still be not a great as my needle fear! Anyway, I wasted ten minutes downstairs, refusing to let the needle go in. Couldn't they have given me a gas or something? Make all of our lives easier? NO. Because apparently, needles don't hurt, they're here to cure you, blah blah blah, doctor talk.
And this is why I hate the doctor.
I made a complete show downstairs, when the doctor finally had enough, saying I was wasting his time. I went home with my mom in silence, knowing I made her pissed off since she doesn't have long patience, and when I got home, I went to my room and had a good cry. A few minutes later, she came in and told me to stop, saying I was going to my grandma's house with my cousin who stayed the night at our house. Yesterday was THE most HUMILIATING day of my life. Why can't I be brave? I act like it all the time, but when it comes to the real stuff, I might as well be a two year old like my sister! Well, actually, my sister' four, but you know what I mean!
When me and my cousin came downstairs, we said goodbye to my mom. I sulked to whole time as we went to my grandma's house, which, BTW, took us like two hours, for to five freakin' trains (and God knows I don't take the subway, so I was pretty mad and tired with all the walking and the sitting and the standing and the pushing and the people trying to get money). When we got to my grandma's house, my cousin gave me the password to her computer, and I went on and played around. So, yeah. My day yesterday? I wish I could just erase history sometimes. Actually, all the time.
Out of all the things in the world, I had to be afraid of needles? Why can't I be like my uncle, scared of literally nothing (as far as I know- I've never seen him afraid of anything. No bears, spider, serial killers, car accidents, nothing!). I'm such a baby, and I always upset my mother about it.
Oh, let me rant some more. Me and my mom? Not a good relationship. We argue daily about everything, especially dance. I say I don't remember the routines, she immediately jumps to conclusions as all mothers do and asks if I want to quit dance, and I say no, that I just can't remember anything, and then we start fighting. We both get pissed off, and it's another usual day for us. Oh, how I wish I could tell her what's going on at school, but I don't talk to anybody. Not my mom, any relatives, any friends (since they already know what's going on, kinda), nobody. I could be sent to a therapist and waste an hour of both of our time.Is that how you say it? Both of our time? I think it's times. I don't know.
But yeah, if you got it this far, thanks so much for reading. At least I can talk to the Internet kinda as anonymous. Again, thanks for reading. I hope people read this. It'll make me feel a ton better :)
June 9th, 2012 at 05:00pm