Maybe if I write about it. . .
Autor: Crion_dm459
Sadly, this is to become one of the latter. I would rather my mother not stumble upon this for the simple fact that there is information here she does not yet know, and I am afraid of what would happen to her mind if she did. That, and no one really reads this; its more personal for me. And the few people that do read this? They are usually friends I trust. . .
This vacation has been horrible, to say the least. The beginning wasn't so bad, but it was bad enough to mention it as the beginning of a bad vacation. I started off the same way I always do: working. But let's rewind for a few days; at the end of Finals Week. I was given the offer some time ago to stay here at my friend's apartment during the vacation, namely because the two people who live here were going to be gone outside of the country to see their "boyfriends," and needed someone to watch over their cat. Thus my job.
The idea itself isn't bad, but the way it started was.
For starters, the girl who was still here is a real...how can I say it..."border-line whore" is the closest thing I can come up with. She had a boyfriend in Toronto, had a "sort-of-breakup" in November, and started having a physical-based relationship by the end of that day. Its...disgusting, how she seems to plan her breakups around the guys that want to date her.
Well, my first 3 days here were spent with her and this new boyfriend. So, sleeping in a really small room (almost the size of my old walk-in closet, which I don't mind so much) while they are having sex in the room next door. . .a room that I would have to walk through to get to the bathroom or just to leave. . .
Now, I don't know if any of you find it annoying, but I do after a while. With the nature of this girl and the fact that everyone in my roleplaying group has that person of their dreams with them, I get frustrated with people in relationships, that close-minded desire to always be with their person of choice. . .
Let's just say the first 3 days were an annoying blur of movies, them making out on the sofa, having sex in their room and essentially locking me away from the bathroom and/or kitchen (depending on where I was), and packing up for them.
Thankfully, they were gone and I started work. Not too bad of an idea; I used to enjoy my job for times like this. And it was worth it on the first day. Then I was given the most annoying project of organizing the microfilm and creating a master index. 40+ pages of information to create and type. Bah. . .
The first weekend hits, and life seemed good. Sorta. . .
The first weekend off of work was the beginning of our week long vacation for Christmas. It was decided for me that I was to go home, spend time with the family, and visit my ailing grandmother.
Spending Christmas in the hospital is never on my list of things to do, and now it is something that I wish I never have to do again (even if its working there). Yeah. . .I went to see my grandmother while she was in a terrible state. She didn't know where she was at times, and she didn't speak to any of her grandchildren; just a select few of her own children. When we were having group conversations, she would ask at random what we were talking about. Apparently, it was really bad; I've never seen my grandmother in that bad of shape. But everyone said that she was getting better, but we all knew deep down that she was not going to be leaving the hospital.
I returned back to the apartment to continue my solitude. Seriously. The apartment was housing only myself and the cat. My friends from all over the globe (whether from America, Japan, Korea, or scattered across Europe) were not online very much to speak to, nor did I have a phone to call them. The city in which I live for school was also extremely empty; nearly every college student went to their respective "homes." Only a few of them remained, and I seldom speak to them for reasons beyond my control. So, therefore, I continued my solitary confinement and began to play video games and read more books. . .
New Years rolls around. The clock strikes 12, and I never even knew. This area does nothing for the holidays since no one is here. And since I did not have television, I could not watch the news or whatever to see the countdown. I didn't even know it was the new year until 15 minutes into it.
And people complain that they didn't have anyone to kiss. . .I didn't even have someone to remind me that it was midnight. . .
I talked to some people on the first; the only highlight for me.
I went back to work on the second, continuing my project but not having the mindset for it.
The same with the third; I went to work and came back.
I came home to receive the news that my Grandmother passed away. . .
This doesn't bother me nearly as much as what everyone thinks. I am greatly familiar with death, almost to the point where I know him on a first name basis (yes, I have discerned death is a "he," long story), but that still didn't help cut the sorrow of the loss. I mean. . .this is a woman that I have childhood memories of, that always made sure that I had new shoes for school and that my favorite magazine subscription wouldn't expire. She did everything she could as a grandmother, from the usual bake cookies and whatnot at the holidays (even though she couldn't eat certain things, she was still a damned great cook) to . . . everything, actually. So her loss weighs heavily upon me, especially since I feel like a terrible person for not seeing her as often as I should have, always letting work and school get in the way.
But this doesn't affect me that much; I know I'll be fine soon. I am more worried about my mother. . .
The day of the funeral was truly a tough day for the family.
First, I went shopping with my sister so she can buy the clothing she needed for the funeral service. While we were talking, she admitted her diagnosis to me: the doctor believes that she has a minor case of cervical cancer, and needs to undergo an operation. She is young and can more than likely survive the operation, but the fact that she will be unable to work or anything puts a strain upon an already tight family budget, along with the strain on an already stressed-out family.
I then received word that my brother was in a car accident while on his way to get back to my mother. It was not his (or the driver's) fault; they hydroplaned and wrecked the car. Somehow, both of them turned out ok, but my brother was shaken up pretty badly.
My brother has also taken everything especially hard. He has been working overtime to the extreme to be able to pay for the bills in the house. Essentially, after my mother lost her job, he was the one paying for everything in the house. He also had a great deal of problems that causes me to worry about him. One of which is that a girl he had feelings toward was found dead, assumed to have committed suicide. In reality, the police believe that there was foul play; that she was killed by the man she was with. He has taken that pretty badly, especially since it came rather close to the anniversary of our father's death. So now the entire family is keeping and eye on him, just in case. . .
My younger sister, as always, is being a painful burden on the family, and this event was no exception. I won't go into details. . .
We went to the funeral; a nearly 3 hour drive by car. I would rather have not met some of the family again, and some of the family I never met I am indifferent on. Besides, most not only didn't know me, but many didn't even see me there if they did know me. But it still had to go on. . .
What drove the family mad was the lack of respect. Some of the younger generation brough their cell phones with them (like most of us did). But they didn't turn them off. . .
So, during the service, no less than 3 cellphones were ringing; one of which was a vulgar rap ringtone (literally, vulgar words; my grandmother hated rape I might add), and he took the phone to the room next to it and started talking, loudly. He was the first, the other two just never turned their's off. My mother, of course, was in tears over this. Rightfully so. . .
We then went back to my grandmother's apartment to pack some important things. Of course, all hell broke loose: one of my uncles took all of the cards addressed to the family instead of bringing them to the apartment where everyone was. Some of the cousins wanting to take almost everything, and my greedy uncle (who received tens of thousands of dollars from my grandfather's death) wanted to have first call on everything he wanted. There was also drinking and smoking, two things that should NEVER have occured in the building. . .
The family was a total wreck. They went from mourning to. . .I'd rather not say; that is rather rude even for me.
The entire time home, the 2 nights I stayed there, I believe I had a total of 6 hours of sleep, which is low even for me.
There should be a note as to why I worry for my family: my family has a long line of depression. I worry for my mother, who has refused to hold a steady job since my grandmother became ill. I worry for my younger sister, who is in a rather bad relationship and is having her second child (and most of us question as to who the father is), who is letting her depression kick in by only sitting around the house and causing problems for everyone around her because of the way she feels. I worry for my brother, with all of the things that have happened to him. I worry for my sister, for her surgery and her current situation. . .
I know I shouldn't worry over things I cannot control, but I cannot help it. I don't have much contact with my family, but I am uncertain what would happen if I were to lose them.
I was hoping to continue my solitary living, but that didn't work; my friend has just returned with the new guy, and they are already going at it since last night. Especially with the drinking, the making out, and overall being rude and keeping me up all night, knowing that I had to be awake at 6am to prepare for work.
And to think. . .I get to do this all week. . .
I just hope things pick up. This vacation sucks. . .
--I have spent more time in this apartment in three weeks than I have in my dormitory all semester.
--I have spent more time in a car than I have spent at a week of work.
--I have spent more time truly alone than I have in the past year.
I really need to see what it is I am doing wrong and fix it. . .but am I doing something wrong?
The world may never know. . .
Do I feel better now that I wrote this? A bit. . .it was distracting at the very least.
But now I need to prepare for work. Bah. . .