(no subject)
Feb. 21st, 2007 12:24 amSo. For a long time, the word in my house has been that when I clean up my room, I'd get moved to another bedroom in the house. And now they're (they being mis padres) actually doing it. Which I don't like. I've got enough stress and responsibility in my life right now that I'm actually actively rebelling against the responsibility and such. Dunno why, there's probably some Freudian reason/defense mechanism thing that I could come up with, but for once, I don't really feel like analyzing the why behind the why behind the what. But said rebelling is badbadbad. As I'm not doing my work, mainly. Adding more change to the mix is only making it worse. I can't handle change, especially over something as -- for lack of a better word -- sacred as my bedroom. I cleaned the bloody thing and I couldn't sleep well for 3 days. I was waking up and flipping over and not being able to get back to sleep and I barely got one continuous hour each night. I'm still not sleeping well since because I haven't yet gotten used to the difference in it being clean--something that seemingly inconsequential in the room where I sleep is enough to completely set me off track. I don't have a problem usually (I never sleep as well, but not this poorly) sleeping in other places on vacation or whatever because I know that it's temporary, it's that I know that I'm being shunted over into this room for good that's freaking me out.
It makes no sense, really. I just really like the room I'm in, but my mum decided that my little sister gets it now. Which also makes no sense to me, because my mom's all "you've had that room forever and you kept it all messy and so now you get the titchy room". But, err, I've never had a room to myself. Never. Never has the mess in the room been all or even mostly mine. Even though my sister doesn't sleep in the room that I'm in now (the bigger one), she keeps her stuff there and as such messes it up even more than I do because she doesn't have to be in there for long periods of time for sleeping and such. My brother has the freaking master bedroom (his is the biggest, the one I've got now is the next, the one I'm moving to is the smallest) and has had it to himself for years and it's twice as messy as mine ever was and it's all his mess. Does he have to move to a smaller room? No. So I really don't understand why they're doing this to me.
So yes. The room is tiny (there's a minuscule little futon in there right now, and when it's opened and in one corner, you've got maybe a meter on one side and a meter and a half on the other clearance between it and the opposite walls), it's this annoying shade of yellow (seriously. Yellow. It's all cutesy or whatever for a baby's room, which is what it was originally painted for: to be the playroom of sorts when I was born, but it's annoying and goes with none of my furniture), and did I mention TINY? It's maybe half the size of my old room. We're talking you probably get bigger accommodations in Rikers Island.
And the sad thing is that they're practically bribing me to get me in there. I dunno, it's not so much bribing as it's they want me to like the new room even though they're forcing me into it. I mean, I was told in no uncertain terms that there's no getting out of it, but they go shopping and buy these really cool black lacyish curtains to replace the closet doors (because they don't really open well) and cover the one window with, and I'm like "Yeah, they're gorgeous, but I still don't want the fucking room." And it's always been "Hey, clean your room and we'll move you into this one and you'll get your own computer." Which is lovely, obviously, but I don't know how a computer could even fit in there. Plus, I highly doubt that they'd let me have the internet on it, and with a computer in my room, if I had to type an english paper, per se, they'd be all "do it on your computer" and I wouldn't be able to get on the internet nearly as much. And that's really mostly what I do on the computer besides schoolwork, which mostly requires the internet anyway.
Whatever. To summarize, I can't handle change so the room moving is freaking me out even though I should be old enough to handle this kind of thing. The entire situation right now is affecting me badly, and I think I really realized how much I've been stressing out about things in that I was in bed at about 3 in the morning but couldn't get to sleep. All night. And this isn't the first time that this has been happening recently. I finally got up at like 5:30 to take a shower and such, because I was coughing (and thus, every time, waking myself up just as I was about to fall asleep) from the dumb cold that I thought I was over but still continues to affect me when I lie down and just generally not able to fall asleep. And I'm being all pissy and overreacting because I'm PMSing like a bitch right now. I think this is the only time that I've ever been pleased, though, that I feel like my uterus is trying to stab its way through my abdominal wall, because this means that I'll be able to start taking the birth control crap soon, which should make next month not suck nearly as badly. It also means, however, that today is pretty much the last time I can eat for the rest of my life because of the dumb weight gain that comes with it. Sadness.
It makes no sense, really. I just really like the room I'm in, but my mum decided that my little sister gets it now. Which also makes no sense to me, because my mom's all "you've had that room forever and you kept it all messy and so now you get the titchy room". But, err, I've never had a room to myself. Never. Never has the mess in the room been all or even mostly mine. Even though my sister doesn't sleep in the room that I'm in now (the bigger one), she keeps her stuff there and as such messes it up even more than I do because she doesn't have to be in there for long periods of time for sleeping and such. My brother has the freaking master bedroom (his is the biggest, the one I've got now is the next, the one I'm moving to is the smallest) and has had it to himself for years and it's twice as messy as mine ever was and it's all his mess. Does he have to move to a smaller room? No. So I really don't understand why they're doing this to me.
So yes. The room is tiny (there's a minuscule little futon in there right now, and when it's opened and in one corner, you've got maybe a meter on one side and a meter and a half on the other clearance between it and the opposite walls), it's this annoying shade of yellow (seriously. Yellow. It's all cutesy or whatever for a baby's room, which is what it was originally painted for: to be the playroom of sorts when I was born, but it's annoying and goes with none of my furniture), and did I mention TINY? It's maybe half the size of my old room. We're talking you probably get bigger accommodations in Rikers Island.
And the sad thing is that they're practically bribing me to get me in there. I dunno, it's not so much bribing as it's they want me to like the new room even though they're forcing me into it. I mean, I was told in no uncertain terms that there's no getting out of it, but they go shopping and buy these really cool black lacyish curtains to replace the closet doors (because they don't really open well) and cover the one window with, and I'm like "Yeah, they're gorgeous, but I still don't want the fucking room." And it's always been "Hey, clean your room and we'll move you into this one and you'll get your own computer." Which is lovely, obviously, but I don't know how a computer could even fit in there. Plus, I highly doubt that they'd let me have the internet on it, and with a computer in my room, if I had to type an english paper, per se, they'd be all "do it on your computer" and I wouldn't be able to get on the internet nearly as much. And that's really mostly what I do on the computer besides schoolwork, which mostly requires the internet anyway.
Whatever. To summarize, I can't handle change so the room moving is freaking me out even though I should be old enough to handle this kind of thing. The entire situation right now is affecting me badly, and I think I really realized how much I've been stressing out about things in that I was in bed at about 3 in the morning but couldn't get to sleep. All night. And this isn't the first time that this has been happening recently. I finally got up at like 5:30 to take a shower and such, because I was coughing (and thus, every time, waking myself up just as I was about to fall asleep) from the dumb cold that I thought I was over but still continues to affect me when I lie down and just generally not able to fall asleep. And I'm being all pissy and overreacting because I'm PMSing like a bitch right now. I think this is the only time that I've ever been pleased, though, that I feel like my uterus is trying to stab its way through my abdominal wall, because this means that I'll be able to start taking the birth control crap soon, which should make next month not suck nearly as badly. It also means, however, that today is pretty much the last time I can eat for the rest of my life because of the dumb weight gain that comes with it. Sadness.