Blah

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!

At least tomorrows FRIDAY!!!!!!!
Ugh. The part I DON'T like about it is I have to get up at 6:45am for my 8am class. I'm already exhausted and I get to do the same thing next Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Tuesday's and Thursday's I get to get up at 8am for my 9:30am class. (T's and Thurs's I only have TWO classes. M,W,F I have THREE)

Dear. God.

I know, I know. I have NO right to complain, but god dammit... It feels good! I know I whine and I bitch and I moan and I complain... But still...

I broke down crying out of the blue an hour ago. Weirdest thing. I was just listening to some music and then BAM! On came the water works. They say crying is a way to help relieve stress. Did that work for me? Sure. I feel a little better. The bad thing? I'm now tired as all hell.

Sigh.
I don't know.

I had enough energy to put the dishes INTO the dishwasher and I'm the one who has to take them OUT of the damn dishwasher.

It's just like when mom and I go food shopping. I have to load them INTO the cart. Get out to the car and UNLOAD them into the car. When we get home I have to PUT AWAY all of them. Do I get a thanks? No. Do I get a reward? NO! Fucking hell... LEARN TO DO IT YOUR FUCKING SELF!

Sigh.
Whatever.
Lazy assholes.
The lot of them.

I'm under appreciated in my family. I don't ever get a 'Thank you Rio, for putting away the groceries!' or 'Thank you, Rio, for doing the dishes!'

The thing with my family is (Well, my mom and uncle) is that you CANNOT talk to them about ANYTHING in your life. All they'll do is snort and laugh and tell you to "Get over it. You're old enough to handle it on your own". BUT! When they're with their mother, they SPILL THEIR FUCKING GUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!?!? Jesus fucking CHRIST! NO WONDER I HAVE ISSUES!
Damn. No wonder I had to go see a fucking therapist.

The thing with therapist's is that they want to "Help you", so you tell them what they wanna hear, just so you can get out of therapy. Me? I keep a journal or I blog about it. I have... 10 journals that are all full and I'm working on number 11. I've been journal writing since I was 7. I've burned most of them and started over. So imagine how many journal's that would be if I started at age 7!

Sigh.
Oh well
What can you do about it?
Get the fuck out.
That's what.

But that involves money. To which I don't have enough. I wanna get out of this place. I need a new scene. I wanna go to LA or New York... Hell, North Carolina (One of my friends just moved there). Anywhere but where I'm at. I wanna change my name and just start over.

Sigh.

Much love, my sinners,
~Rio