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I am fine with this, and honestly if it was up to me I would not even socialize that much. I am a nice person and I care for others, but I just cannot relate to many people, and I don't think that they can relate to me. I can only carry on what some may consider 'normal' conversation for a short while, and even then it feels fake. I feel so out of place with everyone.
In the past two weeks some of the concerns that I have heard from other teachers were, where they would get their nails done, and another one was what kind of vehicle that she was going to buy for her daughter. This is all fine and good, but while they are thinking of these things, I am thinking of things of a much darker nature. I know that I take things too seriously, life too seriously, but I cannot help it. While they are having these conversations, my mind is on the little girl that was recently taken by DHS, I wonder where she is, what hell she is going through right now, and what is going to become of her. I am thinking of the children in school that are currently living through hell, that do not have an escape, and the fact that nothing can be done to help them. I think of all the endless kids out there that are being hurt that no one even knows about or acknowledges. Then I think of my childhood, and I wonder when I will once again have a bad week. It pisses me off, and I feel resentful.
I find it quite funny. When this particular teacher was discussing buying her daughter a vehicle, I found myself getting angry. It was a pretty simple conversation, and I was hit with the unfairness of it all. I wonder if this girl knows how lucky she is. She is 19 years old, and her parents are working on buying a second car for her. Let's see when I was 17, I was working a full-time job. Then after an 8 hour day I would walk to McDonalds to work until 9, which isn't a big deal except for the fact that when I got off work I had to walk home 4 miles most nights because my mother was 'too tired' to get out that late. I was pretty scared walking that far at night by myself. You would think that my mother would have realized how dangerous that was, but we are talking about my mother after all. What pisses me off is the reason I was working two jobs was not for a little extra spending money or to save for a vehicle, but it was to help my mother pay her bills for fear of getting evicted from our home.
Then my thoughts go from there. Lets look at the time line of all the things that happened by the time that I was 17. By the age of 9, I had been molested by my father I don't know how many times, and had to watch him beat the crap out of my sisters, fearing one day that he would go too far and kill one of them. I listened while my sisters discussed whether they should use one of his many guns to blow his head off while he was sleeping, wondering if they were going to do it, and end up in prison. I had lived in a domestic violence shelter with a bunch of strangers. By the age of 13, I had been raped more than once. At 15, had to deal with my sister being abused by her psycho husband, wondering if she was going to end up dead. Then around the age of 17 is when I had to start dealing with my family's finances, worrying about how my mother was going to pay her bills every month, and fearing that she was going to commit suicide because of her endless threats and comments, worrying about what a little extra stress might do to her psyche. All by the age of 17, what the hell?! No wonder I am so screwed up.
So it is a little difficult for me to sit there and hold conversations with people that are talking about the latest fashions, who is going to do their nails, what kind of hairstyle that they are going to choose at their next trip to the beauty salon, or what kind of car that they are going to buy their daughter. That is what people worry about though, meaningless things. People seem so shallow to me, and I have no idea what to even say to them. There is no way that I can relate, and I honestly don't want to even try.
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