I want to be where my heart is home. I have no idea where that is.

I have been posting for over a year now, how out-of-place I feel living at home. I almost had an opportunity this month to move out. I was so incredibly excited. Everything seemed perfect--the location, the roommate, I would have had my own bathroom and a wonderful bedroom.

But James and I broke up. Then I let him borrow money, then I had to take out more savings money to start on my own phone plan. Then I realized that Ashleigh still hasn't, and probably never will, pay me back the $150 that I had put aside SPECIFICALLY to go toward things that I wanted to buy when I moved out.

That is nearly $400 that I lost out on, that I didn't have in my savings. Then I had to pay for college this month. I started in on their payment plan. Even right now, at this point, I technically cannot afford to take the classes that I am enrolled in. I didn't even factor in books.

Oh, and it doesn't help that I am down to making $100/wk, when I used to make anywhere from $180-200. Which isn't much, but it would have been enough.

I feel so, so stuck. I know that what I need is to get out.

Usually, when young adults look to move away from home, they are stoked to abide by their own rules, party whenever they want, blah blah blah.

Me? I am stoked to have my own eggs, grainy bread, waffles to use with my homemade jam. A living room with my tv stand and Nintendo 64. A corner for my sewing machine and crafting crap. A bedroom that has space. A bathroom that isn't assaulted with crap stains on the toilet seat, and facial hair trimmings around the sink.

I know how much it costs to live. I was so close to living.

But right now, I am right here. In this bedroom with walls of macaroni, where I have no room for anything. It is piled up with everything.

I lay here and drown forever.

I feel incredibly awkward and alone at this point in time.

I don't feel good enough. I have never felt like this. It's a challenge to feel normal anymore. I don't know what that is. I am working three days a week, and I fill the other days with crap.

I don't feel productive, I don't feel satisfied.

I don't feel special. That's the kicker.

Change is hard. I don't know how to distract myself, or feel better about myself.

I am so unsure.

I've been careless with a delicate man, and it's a sad sad world, when a girl will break a boy just because she can

I've come to you because I need guidance to be true, and I just don't know where I can begin...

All mature switches are being turned off, right now.

FUCK EVERYTHING. I am so so sick of people pretending that they are working to benefit me when they are only trying to make themselves look better, getting some sick satisfaction while helping themselves

I feel like....I don't know. I don't feel good about myself and I REALLY don't feel awesome about the way that people treat me.

I am trying to turn all of this anger and aggression into something positive and healthy. Motivation to make good changes for myself, or something. But I am just so full of negativity I think it would take seventy smashed plates before I felt even slightly relieved. I want to destroy.

Instead I cry, and lay her angry

Silent

But what I would like to say, is fuck this.

Now bye forever

I feel so useless. It is disheartening to realize how purposeless I am in life.

Just nothing.

Big

Big

Nothing.

But don't take any immediate steps to remedy what disgusts me.

I say, give it a few months. I never do anything in the moment.

A decision was made tonight that I will discontinue the method of contraception that I have been on for well over six months. Depression has glued itself to my side and dissatisfaction greets me every morning.

I hope that this will mean something good. Something.

It is ever-encompassing.

I don't know why I feel so lonely all the time. Well, when I'm alone. So, generally on a random day or in the middle of the night. I will miss having somebody to regularly talk to. About life, or cool websites, things...you know? I just want to talk to people. I look on my facebook IM chat list--which is always rather large--and I never see anybody available that would be appropriate to talk about the subjects that I am thinking.

Friends are hard to come by. Especially since I have become so enclosed. Most of the time I don't care to have people. Then I realize that my only female friend is only around right now because she is pregnant and chooses to avoid the lifestyle she no longer lives. I now hang around with her and listen to her moan because she has 'no life anymore'. Just like me.

So, that's it.

I'd rather be having a conversation with somebody, but instead I am typing up a diary entry that nobody knows exists. It's okay.

Sometimes when I indulge in things that I have liked for years, every now and then, some particular thing takes me back to distinct memories in which I almost think I feel my heart jerking from one period of time to another.

Right now, I remember the house in the Gateway Neighborhood. Where my mother used to live with her terrible boyfriend. My sister and I were over for winter break, I must have been seventeen at the time, I'll say. I had just fallen in love with Elliott Smith. I remember sitting playing the short playlist on my ipod of Elliott Smith songs over and over again in the bedroom I shared with my sister. We had a pink foam couch, that folded out to a bed. Other than that and a dresser full of unrelated junk, there wasn't much in there. I remember listening to these songs over and over. Zach's mother got me one of those bead sets in which you iron them together on peg boards, and I was sitting on the floor making things in the bedroom. Zach had gotten some too, and so for Christmas he made me a heart necklace strung on dental floss.

I didn't even make anything really cool. I just sat there creating. Nothing special.

I remember that house and that period of time and it makes me sad to remember the things I'd like to forget from that house. But I love Elliott Smith.

Do you miss me, Miss Misery, like you say you do?

He just always knows how to make me feel so goddamned sad sometimes.

Mmmm, let the tears roll!!

Disrespect, cynicism, good intentions, thoughts of death and the future, etc.

I don't care about trying to make friends I don't think anybody new will make me happy. I'm not going to try to care about you. Darn.

Because sometimes, what is most important, is looking out for what is best for you. And sometimes, in order for you to do that, you need to focus on yourself and make some decisions that other people might not like. So, if you feel the need to do this, don't try to work on other things that make other people happy at the same time.

Because you lead them on and it hurts. And you don't care. And I want to destroy you. Nobody truly specific.

I'm so glad that I have somebody to love.

I am really easy to get along with. Even with some of the most annoyingly opinionated people, I can respect their opinions even though they are against mine, just for the sake of, whatever.

So this, I don't know.

Just really got to me. I guess I'll just have to sleep.

I guess my mind had just started this fantasy world in which I never even conceived that anybody would disagree with what I thought.

Surprise surprise.

Also, I can't wait for my period next week.

So much has changed since I last posted? Has it?Eh.

I stumbled upon this quote and I really enjoy it, so I think I will share it with you

"Anyone can be passionate. It takes real lovers to be silly."

So sweet. I think that it holds a lot of truth, also. Me, though? I'm just a bit of an all-around weirdo anyway.

It's nice to be able to kiss the same person you can be gross around. Actually, it has been wonderful.

I haven't posted on Sitdiary in awhile, but I haven't really posted much on any sort of social sites as of lately. I have been existing elsewhere. I lose connections so easily. Does it matter? Does it offend you, knowing that I honestly question that?

I don't know what to do with hopelessness. I don't know what it is. Certain situations, mindsets, I guess. I am not hopeless. I am a lot of things, but hopeless is not one of them.

What am I, anymore?

Awkward, exhausted, broke, working mornings, schooling evenings, friendless, loving, fruit-eating, granola-obsessed, gassy, hopeful, lazy, creative, happy.

That's where I am right now.

I feel absolutely dreadful whenever I am home anymore. So alone, unnecessary, stupid, and just, aggravated.I didn't plan on it, but for the most part I have just given up trying to effectively communicateif with my parents. Everything just seems like I am wasting their time. Every time I try to bring anything up, I receive a short, one-word response muttered at best. When was the last time we had a real conversation? I called my dad a week and a half ago when he was at work, to tell him I had registered for my classes at Clark College. He was happy for me, we talked for a few minutes, and he told me to call Maureen also, because she likes to hear that sort of thing. When I called she made me feel like a retard, saying 'oh. Well okay.......' yeah tight okay whatever. My attempts, even in that specific example of when I actually had something to say, just went kaput.

I don't spend much time here. I think it all started because since I have gotten my job (September), I work the night shift (5:30-10:30, 6:45-11:30 recently) almost 75% of the time. I thought that they were only feeling hostile toward me because I was never around at home anymore, at least whenever they were home. I don't come home most of the nights if my friend is working, because I am coming home to a house full of sleeping people that will go to work or school the next day before I am even awake, so I will kill a few hours and sleep in a house that doesn't seem so lonely. That is how I look at it. A comfortable companionship you know?

I spend my days with my boyfriend, James. I care about him so much, I have so much fun with him and I just wouldn't mind spending every single day with him if I could help it. We go grocery shopping, we will make quick and easy lunches and dinners together, we clean and he tolerates me organizing things and buying items for his house as if it were my own. We go on fun trips to stupid stores because I like to simply look at things, we take great naps and watch corny daytime television talk shows on the days where we don't sleep in until 11 so we can hang out earlier. I just feel so comfortable with him, and I don't feel alone and if he does something that bothers me I can tell him to fuck off or that he is an asshole, and I'd never expect anything less in return. It just feels real, I guess.

Then I come home. I try to come home because I tell myself that I want to spend time with my family and catch up with what has been going on. Then I come home and remember that I can't make any conversation last longer than five seconds, so I come up to my room and that is where I am now, and where I have been since they have been home since around 8:30PM.

I used to love the weekends and school breaks, because I could hang out with my family and have fun. Now, I dread these times because I just feel stuck, and alone. I feel unwanted.

There was a sticky situation about two weeks ago, where I let something stupid accidentally happen, and I was passively threatened to be kicked out of the house. They stated quite a few times, that I don't have to live here. Now, that is all that I have been thinking about. I look at the apartment listings on Craigslist mutliple times a day, it's become an obsession. It wouldn't change anything, I can't afford to move out, even though I have no bills to pay right now. It wouldn't work out, I don't think. There are things that make me feel guilty for wanting to be away all of the time also, like knowing that my younger sister has to suffer here, being told that my parents can't wait until she turns 18 so that they can kick her out, and that she is a failure and will never amount to anything. I want to help her so much, more than anything. What can I do though? Rub her back while she buries her face in my bed and bawls. It isn't a solution.

I am so sad when I am here. I don't know what to do. I wish that I had a logical adult or a close and trusted family member that would maturely listen to me and give me advice. I just don't, though. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless and stuck.

That is what I think about, when I am home. This is me, here at the house. This is the house. I don't feel like it is a home, because this falling out just keeps getting deeper and deeper and apparently nobody cares to try to patch things enough to feel functional.

any reason to feel threatened, but everybody gets a little insecure sometimes!

I will trust reassurances though and hope that it is not in vain. It is weird to know that I don't have the upper hand in a situation, you know?

These are new situations and feelings and I am having so much fun with everything and I can't ever imagine what would happen if it all went away! So, ultimately, I am just grateful for everything that I've got right now. Just focus on the day-to-day. My days are so nice.

Those people that you always just assume will be around for girl time and talking and whatever it is that girls do--those people that I would share things like that with are slowly going away.

Running off and getting fucked or pining to be fucked by people who really, do they even care?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.

A loss of communication leaves me feeling indifferent ninety percent of the time so I don't care for the change either way. When I do deide to notice it though, it bothers me to no end.

I've been disappearing off the internet lately to just sort of stop and live by doing everything and absolutely nothing at all. Scrubbing walls, doing dishes, making pasta and staying up watching sitcoms until Star Trek comes on at 1AM, playing video games and waking up in hopes that I haven't missed Let's Make a Deal. It's just little living things and I love it. I want to get a house plant.

I want to have a plant in my home.I want to plant myself into a place that I can call my home.

I even feel guilty being away from home so often, but there is a five hour window where everybody is home and awake (let's say from 4:30-9:30), but before that everybody is schooling or working, and beyond that everybody is in bed. My work hours are always 5:30-10:30, so there is no way for me to catch that window unless for just a few short minutes. So truly, it is not my fault. I shouldn't feel guilty for being away from this home, especially when nobody else is here to care anyway. I just do, though.

I would love it if communication were better in my family so I wouldn't have to feel so guilty like this. I don't exactly know how things should or could change, though.

First off--log for Nov. 17th.

Anyway, I think that I did something really great the other day. Something that I started off thinking I'd never do, never want to do, and never care enough to do.

So we did it, and I did it for myself. I wanted to be happy, and this was a situation that has been making me feel quite happy, despite the slightly few expectations I held at the start.

So, it was a decision I made thinking of myself. Self is bad. Apparently.

I put myself out as often as I can for people, even if I lose some money or some time or whatever, if it is going to make somebody feel good and I am capable I will probably go along with it. Heaven forbid I do something for myself for once without a compromise.

I am not going to feel bad though you think I should. I cannot fully explain myself but I know that this is something I will not be sorry for.

I am sorry that there is pain. I am sorry that I cannot explain myself, but I am not sorry for looking out for myself.