I had a breakdown
A full breakdown
I cry a lot but man, I am trying to hold it in as I am on the job that determines my livelihood.
From all the people that hated Tori Vega from Victorious I never was of them. I really like her. Predictable and amazing. She entered and made it shine. Although others disagree. To tem she was a boring character with a nice home. Spoiled maybe and a brat, not as much as her sister, Trina. But I liked her even though her personality never shined above the peculiar characters around her. She reminds me of myself. Every day I meet people with various talents, creative writing, crocheting, playing an instrument, singing, comforting people, intelligence, and then I am there just like Steve. I am just there. Steve. I have no talents and the problem with my problems is that they were caused by mild inconveniences. Nothing enough for people to say it is traumatic, comes over a bit spoiled, but It still weighs on my mind each day, like a repetitive strain to the wrist. I shake a lot more now, my nerves must be damaged and I am pursuing to enter the healthcare field. No school will take me if they notice my motor functions lacking but it was the only field that allowed me to take my hard earned (barely) hours and turn them into credits in my major. Truth is, I hate biology. And medicine, I love the helping of people but the hospital's aura nauseates me. Not that the smell is pungent or anything, it just dos something to me and it seems unlikely that I will make it.
My parents were not nomads, but we moved enough for me to never have a growth meter on my doorpost. This could also be influenced by the fact that I lived in the Netherlands and that everything had to be painted back into its original colour. Boy would it be annoying to get a gloss that can match the doorposts in townhomes from woonbron. I moved and made new enemies specifically. In the kindergarten I was not liked by the Antilleans although they were my people. Moved to a next elementary and I formed a friendship on the basis that no one wanted to be friends with us. We were the remnants put in a cage, forced to be amongst one another. It was cool though because I liked her weird and best of all, no one can take her from me, because no one liked her. That Is until she decided to walk with another girl in line because she wanted to make other friends. It ended ina hole argument about how I cry too much and that she is allowed to make other friends. I knew that. I knew that she could make other friends but that scared me. Because I couldn't make other friends. No one has the energy to tolerate me and my crying. I always cried. It has always been part of my nature even as I type this, I am fighting my tears that threaten to touch skin. I hate crying, it is exhausting. Really exhausting and worse, it does not solve anything.
Both way, I moved and when I was younger I did ballet. Oh, was I good at it. Multiple times, the teacher would pull me to the front and let me demonstrate. I liked it. Really did. Rarely forgot my bun because I could not miss a lesson. I never had a recital though but I watched the stage each practice hoping that my dreams would manifest. They probably did but not with me in the recital. See, the dance studio moved and to get there was a lot of traffic. I stopped dancing. My mother tried to take me to other places from Zumba to hip hop. But I wanted ballet. It was the discipline that I loved and hated. I have no discipline. Now, that is.
I met an older lady and began to learn how to crochet. Now that is something that I really liked along with looming. It gave me results. I became good at it. And I even learned how to loom an octopus and I started to crochet a bag or shawl which it reached faster. I stopped. Because when I leave, I leave my passion in the location. When I left the Netherlands, my passion for crocheting died. Now I feed my brain's trash through a quick fix. Social media. I hate myself when watching social media. I see people and their talents and them acquiring new talents but I am just the basic one swallowing their entertainment. I should be feeding them. Yet, I sit and do nothing. Every day. Day in and day out. It's my little habit. I see a group of students enjoying life and I want that but I never put the work in to want that. See I would talk to people and they would talk back but my stuttering and lack of humour puts everything at risk. They don't like but I really like them. I find myself always eating alone and having to take my whole bag with me to the toilet. I have no one to hold it for me. It is small things like this why I like friendship. I like people, observing them and annotating their lives. But I have had no true and real and close friends for such a long time that I have forgotten what it is like to communicate with a barrier or oversharing or boring them with the tedious necessities of my day. It is simply talking, not even the complexities of communicating. Now having people in my space annoys me but I still want people around me.
I see people having "4-lifers" but I struggle to find someone who wants to do something off campus. I pay $20 to go to an event with Uber. You pay none because your friend has a car. We're different. I am different.
I know that every person on the spectrum of humanity has made friends. From the smart to the dumb, from the ugly to the pretty, to the rich to the poor. Yet I have made no friends. Am I that alien-like? Am I that repulsive?
Also, I have no idea how I am going to afford university, so if no one sees my next semester (not that anyone would care or not notice), I probably had to drop out. Yay. I hope that one day I become loaded with money. I need it. Bye!
