School is Cool

Once again, it has been a few weeks without me posting, and once again, I apologize. I started classes a few weeks ago and they are surprisingly going really well. Everything that possibly could’ve gone wrong on the first day, did, but I managed to keep a positive attitude.
I signed up for yet another creative writing class. I think I’m only 3 English courses away from minoring in English, which is my goal. The class is going really well, I”m finding that writing has been really easy for me the past few weeks. I think I’ve cranked out 3 or 4 poems already since class has started, which is pretty impressive for me. My creative writing teacher has some weird way of looking at me like she can see into my soul. Writers are observant, but every time I make eye contacct with her, I feel like she can read my mind- it’s unsettling. At first, I thought she had somehow recognized my writing from the poetry site I used to post all my work on, but I realized that’s absurd. The chance that I’ll ever meet someone that has read my writing is one-in-a-million.
I haven’t made any friends yet. I am still in desperate need of friends. I wonder if I’m giving off some sort of needy “be my friend” vibe that’s keeping people away. Or maybe I’m just picky. Hell, I know I’m picky. It sounds wrong, but I have an ideal best friend in mind, and I need someone that can meet at least most of those requirements. I’ve had enough shitty friendships in my life that now I feel like I have a right to be picky. My previous best friend was toxic. She didn’t respect me as a person. I only have one other female friend, and I care for her a lot, but she can be a lot to handle. She, like me, struggles with depression and anxiety, but unlike me, it’s all she talks about. I can’t disagree with her or give her any constructive criticism without her taking it the wrong way and getting really offended and upset. If I don’t answer her texts for a few days, she will keep texting over and over again asking if she did something wrong, or if I still want to be her friend. I get it, I do. But right now, I need to take care of myself. No one is here for me, no one is asking me how I’m doing or if school is going okay. So I have to be that person for myself.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my parents divorce. It happened a long time ago. I don’t know how hold I was, four maybe? Young enough that my parents don’t think I remember it, but I do. I remember the night where everything came to a breaking point. How my dad locked my mom out in the sunroom, because she was talking to her lover on the phone. How my mom banged on the door, trying to get back in the house. How my dad wouldn’t let her in. How my mom broke through the glass door sending shards of glass flying everywhere. How my mom took hold of one arm, and my dad took hold of the other and they literally yanked me back and forth between them. How my mom promised me ice cream if I went with her.

My dad is an understanding and forgiving man. He probably would’ve forgiven my mom if the affair had been a one-time thing, but it wasn’t. It went on for months and months, my dad has all the phone records. Just recently he told me that she’d be out late at night, at 10 or 11pm, and he’d call and ask where she was. She’d tell him that she was showing a client a house (she was a real estate agent) even though it was the middle of the night.
I suppose they were both at fault. My mom told me that my dad used to be really mean, and I believe that. I remember that. I used to be scared of my dad. My fear of him really only went away a few years ago. Meanwhile, my mom wasn’t ready to be a mother, she still had bipolar disorder that wasn’t under control and according to my dad, she was never really home to take care of me.
I don’t remember her as a bad mother, but maybe she was.

Anyway, it’s in the past, but I wonder if/how it affected the person I became.. Would I have been different if they had stayed together? Better?

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