EC Spirit

Tomorrow at this time, I will be a freshman at East Central High School.
The prospect of such a big change is both looming and exciting.
I’m going to miss the familiarity of Foster. I’ve put three years of my life into that school and now I’m leaving it. Yes, I hate it and wish it burns in hell someday, but I’m still going to miss it. I have memories and stories there. I have 4.667% of my life was spent there. I’ve made amazing friends and had amazing teachers. I couldn’t have asked for a better middle school to go to. And I mean that.
Going to a new school scares me. I’m afraid that people won’t like me and I’ll be the girl that nobody likes and have to sit alone at lunch and come home crying every day. I don’t do well with new people (except teachers, I tend to get along with them better than rotten teenagers). I’m fairly anti-social, and thinking about meeting all these new people frightens me.
On a lighter note, I’m also quite anxious.
I can start over next year. Yeah, I’ll know quite a few people at EC, but for the most part this is a clean slate. I don’t consider myself to be hated at Foster, but there are times I’ve let myself down and I can’t get back on track if I stay in the same environment. I feel like this new beginning will startle something in me and make myself better. At what, I don’t know.. Just, better.
I have just over 12 hours left of being an official eighth grader.
May the rest of my life begin.

Ten Books That I’ll Never Throw Away

10. My Sister’s Keeper.
9. It’s Kind Of A Funny Story.
8. Hope Was Here.
7. Call Me Hope.
6. The Time-Traveler’s Wife.
5. The Last Song.
4. Charlie St. Cloud.
3. This Lullaby.
2. The Outsiders.
1. To Kill A Mockingbird.

Dear You

Dear you,
This letter is to you. Yep, you. You know who you are.
I love you more than I love any human being, do you know that? You should, I tell you almost every day. (Ahh, the power of text messaging.)
We’ve had our differences, but in order to have what we have today differences are manditory. I don’t like when you use “gay” as an insult, I hate when you diss MJ, and so on, you know all this. We didn’t talk almost all last summer, and this was my fault (mostly). That was a summer wasted, because you weren’t part of it.
It’s now been over 2 years since our bestfriendship set sail, and I must say, best two years of my life. There isn’t a single one of my friends who doesn’t know who you are, and this is simply because you’re so important in my life that almost any conversation can have you included in it.
Remember when I called you “baby” on accident? In front of your father? I still cringe when looking back on that moment. That was when I officialy turned into a regular old embarrassing teenage girl.
I could bring back so many memories, but there’s not enough time in the world.
The object of this post was to let you know how much you mean to me in means other than text.
All the others are going to think this is to them, but no, this is to YOU.
Love,
Me.

Your Words Sting

You yell at me and tell me to stop bitching at you. You just keep repeating “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
You tell me when I say I’m hungry “You could skip four or five meals and be okay.”
When we go out shopping and find nothing, you say “It’s because you’re fat. Lose some weight and you’ll find some clothes.”
When I finally bring home good grades you say “These are terrible! Dumbass…”
When I eat anything even slightly fattening, you say “No boys are ever gonna dig you. Look at yourself and tell me otherwise.”
When I write, you tell me “Do something productive.”
When I go to church 6 miles away, you say “Are the people there THAT important? I have better things to do than driver your stupid ass around.”
This has been going on too long. And you wonder why I’ve threatened to run away every year of my life since second grade? Why I don’t like talking to you? Why I spend as much time with other families as possible?
It’s because I hate being here. It’s because every word you say is against me. It’s because other families love me.
One of these days, you will eat your words.

Sick And Tired Of It!

Fat. Ugly. Dumb. Blonde. Slow. Retarded. Bratty. Snotty. Ignorant. Stupid. Huge. Weak. Bitch. Fatass. Lazy. Impatient. Arrogant. Worthless. Untalented. Loser.
I’ve been called at least 10 of those in the last week. And we wonder why Ali has low self-esteem.
I’m tired of the insults. If all you’re going to do is put me down, just don’t talk to me. I can’t take it anymore.
The worst are stupid and fat. It’s not my fault I have a dysfunctional family and I’ve been emotionally eating out of depression since I was six. It’s not my fault I’m slow. It’s not my fault I can’t get straight-A’s. Stop acting like it’s all my fault.

Grumble, Grumble

Tomorrow is Mothers Day, also known as The Bane Of My Existence.

I’ve had to suffer through Mothers Day ads all week, and it all leads up to this: a day to remind me what I don’t have and can never hope to attain.

May the pain begin- or rather, continue.

And There Goes That Darn Self-Esteem Again

I envy those who can look forward to going home.

Yesterday I spent the day with my bestfriend and when I got taken home by my father, I was crying before we even got there. He was yelling at me for nothing. I got a headache the second I walked in the door. I cried myself to sleep that night because of the sheer agony I face being at home.

You may think I’m exaggerating, but I really do hate being at home. I can’t explain how much I truly do. I’m not accepted and always being criticized. I can’t be myself without persecution. I get yelled at every day and never once get praised, not that I do that much to be praised for I guess.

It takes a toll on my self-esteem and I hope my dad and grandparents realize this. I don’t feel like I matter to anyone nor do I see myself as a person who can do anything right. My dad may think that his harsh words strengthen me, but they do the opposite and tear me down and make me never want to be around him. Very little of what happens outside my home makes me feel as bad as what goes on behind closed doors. I’m called fat and stupid every day and I believe it because I’ve not been told different.

Just the other day I was explaining to my dad how someone I knew had a Weight Watchers meeting that day and he said “You should have gone along.” Does he not understand how much this hurts me? I cry in the safety of my room every day because of the unjustical words that are thrown at me by my housemates. Maybe it’s hard for them to understand this amazing concept, but I have feelings. I want to start being treated like it.