Counselling.

I don't journal half as much as I'd like to. I often re-read things that I've written, and despite whether I wrote about good or bad times, I like remembering. I like being able to go back and look at the things that have happened to me, written on paper, and even recall things that I'd completely forgotten about. But alas-- I don't journal as much as I'd like to, and although sometimes I pick up the habit again every few months, it's not enough. Sitting and taking the time to write in a journal is a bit of a hassle, and takes much more time than typing. So, why not start a blog? I'm not sure if I'm going to let people know about this blog. I don't think I'll post it on Facebook or Myspace or anything. If anyone asks, I'll give it to them... but otherwise, I'm not sure yet. We'll see. But this is just like a journal-- I hope to write often about daily occurrences and what's going on in my life. Merely because I like looking back, and it's sad to have little to look back upon. So I'm rectifying this. But now I'm ranting.

Thanksgiving break was lovely, and timely. There were a lot of people here for the holidays, which is intimidating, but I didn't really have a problem with it. Not as much as I did last year, anyway. I do get the feeling that a lot of the Jones' family are not fond of me, but I'm used to much worse, so it is barely worth my attention. It's just a little discouraging sometimes. I'm sure they'd tell me otherwise, but people are liars. That's also something I've gotten used to. Well, negativity aside (most of it)-- dinner was nice. Cookie-baking-day was even better. It felt less crowded than last year, less hectic-- but maybe that's just me getting used to it. I slept on the couch the night before because my lovely roommate seems to have developed a snoring habit while she was away at college, and let me tell you, while that couch is lovely to nap on, it is hell for your back if you spend the night on it. But, I did get to watch an excessive 4 hours of the Discovery Channel's "Planet Blue", which I love, so that's a plus. I actually love almost everything on that channel... I really do. But that's irrelevant. I guess what I'm trying to get across is that because I slept on the couch, I woke up at 8am, due to hearing Vicki doing things in the kitchen. We baked from then until 8 or 9pm, and it was lovely. We have lots of cookies now, sitting on my closed-in back porch. Every time we leave them out there, yes, it makes sense to me... but a few things come to mind every time. What if a homeless person stumbled across our humble abode? How funny would that be? That person would be in heaven. The amount of cookies we have, I am sure, could provide meals for quite some time. It's a very staggering amount. I've decided to get the recipes from Vicki, and make them when I leave here. I'd actually like to start a tradition of my own, making cookies every year, I mean. I just love it that much.

I'm spending Christmas in Kentucky this year. I'm dreading it, but I'm excited for it. I won't elaborate any further, because I'd like to think positive thoughts about this trip. My dad's going to come get me, and I'm not quite positive about the dates yet, but I know it will be roughly through December 19th thru January 2nd, or something like that. I have a lot of people to see-- a LOT-- so hopefully that will give me plenty of time. I've kind of got some Christmas shopping out of the way, but nothing for Kentucky (well-- I got a CD for my dad, but that's all)... so I need to work on that. But I'm already in the negatives when it comes to money. I owe Vicki some, and though it isn't that much... I need to ask her to borrow about $50 for just one gift, but I haven't asked her yet. Truthfully, I'm a bit afraid to, because she seems to be very upset with me right now. I came home Sunday afternoon from D-groups (which are over with for the Winter, by the way), and Vicki saw that I was wearing flip-flops (there's snow on the ground outside), and she threw a total fit. I'm not exaggerating. I understand her not wanting me to wear them in this weather, but she was being completely melodramatic, overreacting so much, and it was clear to me that me wearing flip-flops in the snow was not the problem, so I simply said, "Have I, by chance, done something else to upset you recently?" And so she and Doug took me to my room and lectured me about my grades. I told Mrs. Newbold about this and she proceeded to tell me how "mature" and "responsible" that was of me, pointing that out like that and confronting it. I'm not sure why she complimented me on that, because I just think it's a common-sense thing to do, but I appreciated it none-the-less. I just like compliments, even though I don't respond to them well. I guess it was a better thing to do than just letting it slip and pretending like it had never happened. I dunno.

But, as a result of my grades, I'm grounded for 3 weeks. Last quarter I was in the Honor Roll-- shocker, I know-- and now I'm failing almost everything (except for U.S. History, because Mr. Cliffe is a beast and I fear him). I guess I just got discouraged. I shut down, and I don't want to do school anymore. I don't want to try... I am very tired of trying. Though that doesn't only apply to school. So I'm grounded until finals are over, which sucks, because I was going to go to Mike's concert this weekend, plus, Friday is my next Blood-giving date. I really was looking foward to doing that with Chrissy. Hopefully she'll wait for me. If not, I'll still give once I can, but it still sucks.

I'm not doing so well lately. I don't know why. I can't find any possible trigger, though usually that's the case. I've actually been considering something that's been suggested to me-- regularly seeing the Crisis Counsellor at school. The thought makes me nervous... I had promised myself I'd never see anyone like this. I told her (one of my favorite librarians) no, definately not. She wound up introducing me to him just a couple of weeks ago, in passing. I've been so desperate lately, that I asked her what, exactly, does this counsellor do. I asked if he really helped. I was told yes, but I'm not convinced. I also asked when he saw students for sessions, and apparently it's during school. I also found out that parents don't even have to know, unless you yourself tell them. Nothing leaves the room, unless, I was told, you did something like.... murder another student, or something to the effect. That, I am also highly skeptical of. It makes me nervous. I don't think I can trust him. Well, after asking a couple of basic questions, she said, "C'mon, let's go meet Mr. Baldwin. He has to leave soon, so we should go now." I don't know why, but this made me absolutely panic. I really did panic. I told her no, no, no, no, definately not. She persisted, and for at least five minutes, she tried dragging me over to his office. "I just want to introduce you to him. I won't tell him you want to talk to him." But I told her no, definately not. She had already introduced me to him-- why should we do it again? Picture this: hefty librarian has a student by the wrist. Student looks highly frantic, eyes wide and is exploding with nervous laughter, mixed with slight hypervenelation. The student is clinging to a nearby table, but apparently the librarian is stronger, because the table is sliding across the carpet. Students in the entire library lift their heads to watch this ruckus take place, looking slightly alarmed. Students face burns red with embarrassment. If you can picture that, you can picture what happened today during lunch. Finally she gave up, and even after that I was still hypervenelating a little. She said she'd tell him that we wanted to talk, and he'd call me to the office later. I told her she could do what she wanted, because I refuse to go. She told me that I had to, and I said, no, I definately do not. She then proceeded to tell me I could get in trouble if I don't go to the office when I am called there. So... if she really does decide to do that, I am fucked. I was really surprised at my outburst-- I don't really behave like that. I guess I just am not prepared. I guess maybe I want to think about what I plan on telling him, and I still need to decide if I can really trust him. I don't think I can, but I need someone. I can't do this on my own anymore. I'm afraid, and I'm afraid that I'm afraid, because I don't get afraid. Not like this. All day after that little scene, I cringed at every classroom door that opened and my heart palpitated, in fear that it was someone sending for me to go to the Crisis Counsellor. It was unpleasant. I still feel slightly sick thinking about today, and I'm not sure why it freaks me out so bad. I don't know. I do not know.

Speaking of librarians-- I didn't get to finish my read-down list. I'm really upset. We're voting tomorrow, and I'm not done. If it were only a couple books, I'd pull an all-nighter and finish them tonight... but I still have around 5. I physically do not have enough time to do that. Impossible. So.... I can still vote, I'm just disappointed, and I'm sure my librarians are, too. They told me that they truly believed that I would be the only one to finish. So I guess I've let them down. This will sound melodramatic, but I'm just really hating myself more and more lately.

If anyone really reads all of this, you must really give a damn. Either that, or you're extremely bored. I'm sorry.