The Power of Words


“After all, we’re only human…”
March 3, 2010, 12:50 am
Filed under: Adoption, Bullying, School | Tags: , , , , , , ,

So after a slew of depressing songs and a waste of an entire day perusing my snaps of various happy memories, I have stopped feeling awful.

I didn’t ask to be adopted, frankly I wish I would’ve been aborted.  My day would’ve been a whole lot easier if I didn’t see the softball photographer’s face today.  She looked just like my mom.  I broke down in the dugout.  Then of course all the annoying girls are like, “What’s wrong?  What’s wrong?”  SHUT UP!  I DON’T WANT YOUR EFFING HELP!!!

And at softball one girl pelted me in the face with like 3 softballs.  They aren’t soft fyi.

OH!  And so Friday this some girls were playing in the outfield with me (they were texting) and completely ignoring what was going on.  So I was running the ENTIRE effing outfield.  That’s a lot.  A LOT.  One girl gave the coach attitude about being in the outfield and how she wanted to play infield.  So my coach tells her “Attitude won’t get you anywhere, you need to PROVE to me that you can play infield.  You are far from there.”  So today who does he put infield?  Yep.  And who has a bruise on her face? 

So, that’s wonderful, right?  Later on, I was going to bat and the first throw hit me in the ankle (hard enough for me to fall down and have tears).  I hate crying in public.  I hate it.  My ankle is HUGE.  Really big.  I ended up scoring a run.  Yay! 

I’m just so sick of school, softball, and adoption.  Invisibility, too…

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in·vis·i·ble: not visible, not perceptible by the eye
February 18, 2010, 11:51 pm
Filed under: Bullying, Ramblings, School | Tags: , , ,

I’m not in a good mood.  You know what, I’m not in a good mood at all!  At softball the coaches only pay attention the annoying bleach blonde girls who reapply mascara in the dugouts.  My coach just sticks me in the outfield during practice saying that he’s rotating people when really, he’s rotating everyone but me.  So, you can imagine that makes me feel more invisible.

The only time my coach notices me is when I mess up.  He congratulates all the other girls when they catch the ball or throw well.  But for me?  Nope…  I’m not good enough for a high five or encouraging words. 

After my game (which I was stuck in outfield as a substitute) my coach said “Great first game!”  Yeah… because that was my first game.  My first game was Tuesday night and I fouled twice on the best JV pitcher in the league (she’s better than our varsity pitcher)

At school, it’s the same thing.  I’m invisible.  My friends don’t even bother waiting until I’ve left the table, they spread things about me while I’m sitting right across from them.  It took my AP Environmental teacher one semester (half a year) to remember my name.

I guess being invisible is best when you don’t talk.  Then your a ghost.

BOO!



complete: fully carried out
February 13, 2010, 3:45 pm
Filed under: Life, School | Tags: , , , , , , ,

I pressed the send button on the email this morning.  My final step in the application for boarding school is complete.  Done, zip, no more!  I’ve been agonizing over this all week, my mom has been stressing me even more with this by telling me the unthinkable.  Now, I’m happy to say that my work is done.

All I have left is to wait. 

So, that being said, I’m in a pretty good mood.  You’d think I’d be semi catatonic right now, but I’m actually doing quite well.  Today I’m going over to a friend’s house for her birthday celebration.  I’m pretty excited.  Especially saying that I found her the most perfect gift!

I guess a week that began on a low is going to finish on a high, I haven’t had that happen in a long time. 

I really should work on bringing my grades up this weekend.  Right now I have one F, one D, three C’s, one B, and one A.  I’ve never gotten anything below a B before.  Albeit this is only the beginning of the quarter I should still fix them.  It’s kind of distressing to see those god-awful grades.  I’d better rock that self-esteem shield to raise my F and do a super dandy job on my Bystanders and their Role in Bullying paper, too.  And I have that lab for AP Environmental…

Ever heard of a weekend?!?

*sighs* 

Right now I have “Some of Us” by Starsailor in my head.  It’s a pretty good song.  You should check it out (says the girl who is avoiding her increasingly high stack of homework)

I’m going to start my Comm. Psych. homework. 

Have a great long weekend!!!



boil: to heat or become heated to a pressure

WARNING:  contents under pressure.

Sigh, I guess I should be used to rejection.  After all my experiences with it at school it’s shocking that I can’t take it this once.  Lemme rewind.  A few nights ago I was searching through my adoptive mother’s room and I found an article about adoption.  There were so many similarities with mine that I’m pretty sure it was mine.  So the article confirmed that my mother was a teenager.  So I begin to search classmates.com and high school alumni sites around the hospital I was born in for pregnant teens in my birth year.  I find a name, she was proud of giving me up.  She loved the experience.  She was recommending it to others because she loved it so much.

In the article she said that adoption was the easiest decision that she’s ever had to make.  It was easy to give me up?  Me?!?  ME?!?  ME?!?

I threw up when I read that.  It was so sickening.  I’m not wanted anywhere.  Where do I fit?  At school?  Nope…  Home?  Not really.  I’m not wanted.  It’s times like these where I wish I would have been aborted.  It would have been easier on her and caused no pain.  And, not to mention, I wouldn’t even know what happened so please do not take this as suicidal thoughts because that is the last thing on my mind.

That aside, yesterday at school, a popular girl made the comment that all ugly people should die.  She was staring directly into my eyes.  So, I’m invisible and hated.  glorious!!! 

Last week I skipped so many meals that it’s sickening to even think about it.  Call it stress, call it a stage but whatever it is it’s obviously not healthy and this week I am attempting to resolve that.

OH!  And stress!!!  These past two months I’ve been getting in daily arguments with my mother.  I really cannot see what is provoking them.  I mean, I’ll walk out of the house in a t-shirt and she calls me a whore.  I work on an essay that I have to write but she doesn’t like how I worded it.  I’m under so much stress right now I could scream.  It’s verbal blows, that’s what it is.

Right now I want a hug, or to cry, or a song that will make me cry.  Anything really.

*sighs*  What… ever…



You haven’t won, you’ve only temporarily stunned me.
January 27, 2010, 8:36 pm
Filed under: Bullying | Tags: , ,

You think that you’ve won this game,

Your words have destroyed it all.

You think I’m weak,

But I won’t fall.

You try to hurt me,

And think you’ve won.

But the trouble is,

I’ve only just begun.

You aren’t the only deviant,

I’ve got a mind of my own.

But I haven’t let down,

My strength has yet to be shown.

So try to hurt me,

call me whatever.

You’ll never see me,

Thinking you’re better.

You aren’t that great,

You actually are quite annoying.

I don’t think you’ve noticed,

I don’t care what you’re saying.

I’ll be back,

You’ll see.

In a few years,

You’ll be working for me.



mi-graine: pain in one side of the side
January 26, 2010, 7:57 pm
Filed under: Adoption, Bullying, Life | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Now, why on earth did I choose migraine today?  No, I don’t have one today…  But migraines tend to last for a long time with me, between two and three days so to me a migraine is a long lasting pain. 

It’s surprising at what words mark you.  It’s not always obvious.  Today during class, one girl told me my mom was a ho.  I was appalled.  How can she say that?!?  Where was the premise to base her prejudgment?  I can’t even say that because I don’t know her, and she’s my mother.  Even if it were true, I’d never say that.  So, enlighten me: why can a random girl just say “You’re mom’s a ho to me?”

No reason, eh?

Those words really marked me… because it’s been hours since they were said.  Maybe I’m just overanalyzing…

But, WHY?!?

The girl who said those words to me was in no way, shape, or form to make judgments.  I could just as easily responded with something as shocking… maybe the fact that she wears a cloak to school… or the fact she’s obsessed with things that don’t exist…  But no.

And, what’s with the stereotype?  Can’t surrendering mothers be doctors, lawyers, soccer moms?  Why ho’s?  I wish the public would just listen, or maybe learn a thing or two.  As a society, we are too quick to judge, mock, and ridicule.  What about those who wear different colored converse, or the girls who don’t wear Aberzombie and Hollister?  What about the girl in the hippie headband and zebra sweater.  Is she overlooked and labeled weird for originality.

Stereotypes cause pain.

Pain is bad.

Therefore, no more stereotypes.



Hate: to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest

Are humans stupid to love, hope, and dream?  Are we stupid to live?  Hate surrounds us all, it’s unfair and blind.  Are we blind as to its own existence?  I didn’t know that I could hate until this year.  I learned that grudges, when not treated at their start always spawns into hate, and that sometimes, you even forget why you hate someone. 

Today, on my Facebook, I had a few hate messages.  I’m thinking of quitting Facebook for good.  It just isn’t fair that I get hate messages.  Why do people hate me?  Why am I invisible?  My best friend gave me a look of hatred because I might move and I was completely ignored today.  I just love school. 

I just cannot fathom how some people can be so cruel to others, how do they live with themselves?  How can you live with the fact that you are hurting other people.  How do you love if you are living a life of hate?  I wouldn’t be able to do that, but I guess some people are so cold that they have no problem hating others.

I wish I could just fly away to where I am loved, if there exists such a place.  If I could go back two days to where I was lying in the snow, staring at the clouds, with family and friends by my side, I wouldn’t be crying right now.  I guess I’ve figured what hate means.  And it means emptiness.

I’m feeling empty.