Even though I finished editing my replication paper, graded all the undergrads' finals and entered those grades into blackboard, and applied for a scholarship today, I feel like I haven't really gotten enough done.  Probably because I did not do any work on my American final, which I received at around 11 in the morning.  The questions don't seem too difficult, and in fact, I think I kind of answered one in my first reaction paper about Congressional motivations and everything, so that one really should not be too difficult if I decide to not drastically alter my argument or anything like that.  I know my professor disagreed with me on that particular topic, but I did receive a really good grade on that paper, so I guess the way I argued it was really nice.

I do need to answer three questions though; the maximum the entire final is allowed to be is 15 pages, so I'm going to try and pace it at 5 pages per question (which is pretty much like writing three response papers in a day).  So I'll probably be writing all day, but at least it won't be really technical like my replication paper was, so perhaps it won't be so difficult?  I don't know.  I know I should work on it now, but I am so fucking tired, since I had to get up early and I couldn't really fall asleep last night.  Bah.


My session was long overdue, since I couldn't really see her last week after I got sick.

I explained to her my whole realization about the probable truth behind the ex breaking up with me when he did.  That I recognized that he did not want to see the real me and abandoned me when I needed him to be there and therefore he is not worth my time.  She said how good that that thought is.  That it is me validating my feelings and my emotions and myself, and realizing that it is him who is an awful person for doing what he did.  I am not terrible for feeling as I do and as I did.  When he would make me feel like a shitty person for being sad about him breaking up with me and moving on immediately, and would try to invalidate all of my emotions and would refuse to acknowledge my problems as real fucking problems...I was not the person at fault.  It was all his way of avoiding any sort of responsibility (as he was always prone to doing).  It was his way of saying that he had no hand in what was going on with me internally, and that if I just sucked it up, essentially, I would be okay.

Seriously, I find it incredibly sad that my boyfriend, who claimed to love me more than anyone he had ever met before, could not find the effort to recognize my issues and my sadness and try to help me, meanwhile...a guy I just met a few weeks ago and who has his own set of problems not only recognizes it, but accepts it.  He accepts when I'm feeling sad and why I do and wants to actually help me.  Or so he says.  I might be weary of some of the things he has said and done and stuff, but hell...he fucking recognized it and still wants to help me.  My boyfriend, who sat there one day crying and telling me how much he wanted to be with only me forever (which is a darkly comedic scene in my mind now, honestly), refused to acknowledge any of this.  He did not want me to be like that, most likely.  Because then I wouldn't be 'perfect,' I suppose. I would be broken.

So instead of trying to expend any effort trying to help a broken person, he would rather leave his seemingly perfect girlfriend behind (his words; I never thought I was perfect, but he always claimed I was...I don't know) and move on.

But then he refused to acknowledge that in doing so, he caused me to break even more.  So much that it became irreparable, at least for an incredibly long time.  Everything I felt he eventually blamed on me.  Sure, at first he took some responsibility, but that all faded quickly.

He did not truly love me at all.

If a person who has similar issues to him and who is not in love with me and only likes me right now, but has no incredibly strong emotional attachment to me can recognize my sadness and my issues and wants to talk to me regardless of it and wants to help as much as he can while still being understanding of my situation...it really should not be an unrealistic expectation for my significant other to have wanted to do the same.

He did not truly love me, and that sucks, but it is not my fault.

And I don't deserve to be treated like that.  I deserve and want more than that.

And yes, I loved him more than I could stand, which is why I tried to help him.  Admittedly, there might have been better ways for me to go about doing that, but I fucking tried.  I tried and I tried and I tried and if you had told me that there was a way for me to take all of his sadness and transfer it to me so he could be happy...I would have demanded to know what it was.

I would have, without hesitation, taken his sadness into me if I could have.  So that he would not have to deal with it anymore.  I would have taken that burden away from him if it were humanly possible.  But emotions don't work that way.  So all I could have done was what I did.

I tried, and deserve to have someone who will try for me in return.

That epiphany is a huge step for me, actually.


I also explained some other things to her, including my nervousness about my sister's upcoming bridal shower.  This will be the first time since Danielle's wedding I will have seen most of my extended family, and I am really...uncomfortable about the idea of seeing them.  My extended family is almost stereotypically Irish Catholic - big, loud, always joking about things, and always looking to start some sort of fight.  Often I am the target of political conversations because they all know that they can get a rise out of me quite easily, and it is just annoying, because a lot of times they refuse to acknowledge that I'm an adult who actually studies these things.  They still see me as a kid who doesn't really know what she's talking about, and that just because they're older they all know significantly more than I do.  It's really obnoxious, actually.

But that isn't the reason I'm nervous.  I'm nervous because of my weight.  People had already started talking about my incredible and too-rapid weight loss at Dee's wedding, and I am much thinner than I was then (my dad has said that the most recent time he saw me I was starting to appear skeletal).  The last thing I want to listen to are a ton of comments about my weight, which I honestly am terrified of getting a ton of.  I really really am.  I don't want to have people joking about it the way my sisters tend to, even.  I don't want to talk about it and why I'm like this.  I just.  I don't want to.

I don't want people asking me about the ex, either.  At all.  I really don't want them to, and I know some of them might.  And it is not out of any malice or anything, I know.  I know it is because they are curious and stuff, but...I don't want to talk about him to them.  I don't.

I might ask my parents and maybe even Dee to give people a head's up or something...just to ask them to tell some of them not to mention my weight or the ex or my depression and condition and to try and only talk to me about positive things.  I don't know if they will want to do that but...yeah.  I don't know.  I'm just really afraid of certain topics being discussed and joked about and it all just making me feel really upset and resulting in me being lame and having to put on a mask of happiness even if I will actually be the opposite.

Bah.


I was originally going to try and write an outline for this final, but I might just succumb to the reality that the whole thing is going to get done tomorrow.  And while I will probably regret not doing more on it today, I'm too tired to really care right now.

Also look, pixel me: