The Power of Words


Favoritism.
March 18, 2010, 6:56 pm
Filed under: Adoption, Bullying, Life, School | Tags: , , , , ,

I’ve never been anyone’s favorite.  I was never daddy’s little girl, I was never his kid.  This past weekend my father said some hurtful things.  But when he says those words, it’s not him speaking, it’s the alcohol.  I learned at a young age not to take his words to heart.  He didn’t mean it, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.  I wish I knew what he was like before the drinking.  I wish I knew him before his breathing became labored, and his face was red from the drug.

People say “adopted children are lucky.”  No, truly we are not.  I have not had an easy life, that is for sure.  For the past 14 years I’ve been trying to make my parents proud and have been failing greatly.  All I want is a pat on the back, a job well done.  I just want to be loved.  Is it that hard?

The head softball coach for JV quit Monday.  The assistant is now our only coach.  He’s chosen his favorite, and it’s not him.  I’m trying so hard to get liked, to be… noticed.  I’ve grown to love infield.  I can catch a popfly.  I mean, I can catch a popfly.  My old coach asked my friend if she’d been feeding me nails for breakfast because I’m so aggressive out there.  Yet, despite my aggressiveness and my technique, I’m not good enough.  One girl has an awful technique but is cute.  The coach even has a nickname for her.  She got to play for the full game and I was taken out after the third inning (at least I wasn’t a sub this time).  And my friend, who’s been playing softball for years was playing as a sub in the second string.  What’s wrong with this picture? 

Well, actually.  I am a favorite now.  Not by my father, not by my teachers, and definitely not by my coaches.  I’m someone’s “freshman.”  Not like the whole “get me stuff” relationship, but more of a “you’re cool, let’s hang” type of thing.  It’s pretty cool. 

Plus, she can beat up the junior who made me do all her work at practice yesterday and then hit me.  *sighs*

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“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…



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!