Mood:  blue

I have been learned pretty well all the side effects of Prosac thanx to the song "Prosac" by DJ Tomcraft, but still at times I feel the "benefits" would beat the side effects. Last year, around the switch from November to December I was so much down that my school spychiatrist already suggested me to start the anti-depressants. I told her happiness doesn`t come out of a pot of pills, you have to work throught the problems of your life anyway and that only arranging them in oder I can reach the happiness again. the psychiatrist still tried to offer me a prescription but she couldn`t disagree with me when I was telling true. Funny thing just was that after I had refused to take the pills, she didn`t book a meeting time for us but left me to manage on my own.

And I did! I beat the depression about my lousy-going school and the saddness my parents were causing to me. But now I`m again drowning to that same black hole.

On yesterday morning (3rd of Oct) I was at my parents` place (I had stayed there over night because they had heated up their sauna in the evening and I had gone there to take a sweat bath.) having the breakfast with `em. Mom was getting a head ache so she told us to keep quiet and have the radios turned off. Rocky instead had it on and I went to shut it down thinking to do a good job when seeing the pain on mom`s face. when I was coming back to kitchen from his room I was going to pass him while he was heading to his room being annoyed for that his radio was turned off. And when he realized it was me who had turned the radio off, he pinched me hard from my right side with both of his hands and I couldn`t help crying out for pain. my parents got upset to me from yelling and when I told them what Rocky had done they covered their ears and refused to listen. Being pissed off from the injustice and ignoring I raised my voice and nearly yelled to them what he had done. And my folks got totally upset to me about my yelling, though it wasn`t yelling yet on my scale.

The hell had rosen and I marched to the guest room where I had been sleeping to pick up my stuffs. Dad tried to oder me to get back to the table to finidh my breakfast (it was nearly finished anyway) and shut up. My mom was yelling to me too and my the whole "beloved" family had turned against me - accusing me now from mom`s headache. And then the fight started to roll like a snow ball on a slope, they told me to pack every piece of my stuff with me and not to show up anymore. and then they were questioning my ability to manage on my own and were betting that it won`t be taking a long time till I`m again crawling at their door beggging their help. HA! I don`t need their "help"!

But then they threated to sell my precious little house!

they threated to do that even if I have paid every single share of my loan on time and even some extra to the amount I was agreed to pay every month, so that I could increase my ownership persentage a bit quicker, especially since the faster paying schedule doesn`t affect to my loan negatively. They said they could an they would sell the house without asking my permission. I freaked out then totally and fell in the depression so bad that I was already thinking about going on the lewel of lowest creatures on this planet. I was even seriously planning the career of a commercial woman. I even asked from Vinnie II of he could estimate how much I would earn if renting a window for myself in Amsterdam on the area of the Red Lights. He said none and refused to let me even think about it. And when we were trying to figure out how to get paid more my loan back so that I could get a higher percentage under my real ownership, I depressed even more from that how little incomes I have and how much money I have to be spending everywhere. He even offered some financial help but I refused. He kept demanding and explaining why he wants to help me and was still resisting. Finally I had to eat my pride anf give my bank account number. But if he pays me something I will pay that back to him. My proudness can`t stand that he pays something for me, especially if I took the loan being well aware of my little incomes. But what I can do to protect my house from the materialistic crap called my parents. **sarcastically:** Oh it`s lovely when your parents want to sell your house just because they HAVE TO get a brand new Volkswagen Polo or Peugeot 207!

Mood:  down

It`s sad. Depressing. But I`m not complaining. It`s been always like this. My parents have always compared me and 1 of my younger sisters. And I have lost the race in 99% of the cases. I remember only once to be said to her to take example from me. And that was when my room happened to be super clean and hers had been really messy for a little while.

But more than comparing which one of us has cleaner room it bites me more when they are commenting about my physical appereance. This sister of mine is an athletic person, while my sporting is usually limited to walking/rushing to the nearest busstop and walking back. I lost 6 kilos on this summer and my parents were joyfull about that. But they barely had said the praises when they started to slap me again with their words about not to gain back `em and that I`m still fat. Truth is that I`m not as fat as people could understand if only hearing the words of my parents. The school nurses and doctors also have tested me and I get high scores from all other muscle groups except the abs. And I`ve always been abe to lift and carry heavy things, while my classmate girls have complained the things to be too heavy for them. My sister is strong too, but I can still spank her if she`s whining for that (= annoying me too much), unless her trials to beat me gets me too weak from laughing. Then I may have some difficulties to fight back. But I truly hate it when my underweighted sister is being lifted on the throne and all what I do or even my looks is being compared to her. I guess it`s a fact that parents still tend to prefer soft, feminine girls to boneheaded, strong girls. Especially if the bone-head daughter has so much alikeness with her mother that people sometimes mix them. (Like when some time ago my mom`s co-worker though it was my mom on the phone when i was speaking in fact.)

My weight and my big butt is a problem to my parents and I don`t always understand it. As long as I`m not sickly over-weighted I think it`s O.k. to be a bit chubby. Being over thin ain`t healthy either. And I`m planning to start some excersising and stretcing. And I like to dance if not forced to sit still while doing my stuff at home. Of course my parents ain`t seeing that. They live some kilometres away from me.
Well, at least I get some excersise when mowing the lawns for old people (I`m working in a service which is designed especially for old people and those who are not able to do their domestic duties without great difficulties. Many have ordered me to mow their lawns during this summer and that`s what you can call benefit of the work when you can "excersise" while doing your job and making the life at home easier for an old person or a heavily pregnant mother who has 3 wild children already.

My parents can shut up. As long as I`m feeling fine in the way I am and Vinnie II still finds me attractive, I can ignore the evil words of the environment. I have the support of the person I love the most.

Good night everybody! (Here it`s 3.30 AM now.)