I love how no one ever comments on my blog. Is it that bad, really? *shrugs and smiles because she knows the answer to this* Oh well.

Not that you were disappointed or anything, but sorry for not writing in so long. I've been beyond busy this past week. I guess that's a good thing, right? Its good to stay busy, and keep one's mind off of certain events and/or people. Well this week I've been doing a lot of thinking about everyting. And I mean A LOT. I've been trying to do this, so that I can figure myself out, and deal with the lot of problems that I seem to be having.

Conclusion #1 (and its a BIG one): I have major issues with my parents, and I think that contributes largely to why I have taken such a liking with Prof Szalay. My parents have spent the past 13 years (directly as much as indirectly) telling me that I was unacceptable, intolerable, and that I would never be successful, loved, or happy. They try to negate everything that I do. My mom seems to hate my strong-mindedness (is that a word?). She hates that I've always had my own style, thoughts, views, and interests (even if she won't admit it, she's implied that se feels this way). She is constantly telling me that she hates the way I dress, and complains that I don't wear enough makeup, and freaks out that I don't like having my hair curled perfectly, and perfectly shaped. 
My mom has always made me feel unaccepted, inferior, and unimportant. She told me once that she really wasn't a "kids" kind of person, and would rather have married Frank, lived in a mansion with the perfect life, furniture, husband and hair. I know that she resents Craig and, at least to some point, Rick (though not so much lately). I knew that I was never, and would never be, very important to her, from as far back as I can remember. I have no childhood memories of her; she was always gone- dating, working, etc. Then she meets Rick, and they get married and go on their honeymoon OVER my fifth birthday, while I stayed at home with her parents, whom I lived with from birth to then, since my mom divorced my asshole birthfather a few weeks after I was born (can't blame her there...). My life has been depressing, tortured, and generally terrible since then. HE thought I had major mental issues, because I didn't take a liking to him. (Note to Rick: not many children "take a liking" to the step-parent. Think about it...) Anyway, he kept taking me to counseling, which I honestly don't remember. I don't remember anything, really, about my childhood. It was a terribly empty and lonely experience that I have obviously pushed out of my mind. I'm glad that I don't remember it. And back to having no memory of my mom as a child- I don't think I have any memories with her in them until I was like 13 or 14. Isn't that weird? Well, I honestly don't have much to remember about her. She was always mad at me, and spent every waking moment of her life cleaning, and wishing that her life was something more. She RARELY ever sat down to play games with me, or support me with dance and music, or to just enjoy my company. Still doesn't. And I can't help but her resent her for that. All I pretty much want is to have her acceptance.  All I've wanted my entire life is a mom who would love me for me, and be my friend. A mom who would take a genuine interest in my hobbies, and support all my ideas and goals, no matter how absurd or far-fetched they may have seemed. I feel this is not a giant request. It is, rather, a small request, which I feel should have been innate within the parent to begin with. I've even told her my feelings about this all, and she denies everything, and tries to turn the story upside down, as to make me into some kind of bad guy.
And then there's my step-father (Rick). I don't even know where to begin with him. He's always had this Faschist Dictatorship outlook on our relationship, wherein he was the Ultimate Controller. Whatever he said was right, and was to be happily conceded with and never disputed, whether or not he was really correct or accurate. His motto (which he has implied, and sometimes even blatantly stated, countless times) is more or less this: I am right, you are wrong. And this was directed at EVERYONE, but especially me. He would even argue with his in-laws and neighbors. When I was younger, I just took it. I took the lectures, insults, and his general disdain for me with a grain of salt. But as I got older, I started to realize and comprehend his sense of dictatorship and control in the family, and I began to rebel against it. I was no longer going to be the doormat, like my mother, that he so willingly trampled on. I have been determined since then to fight him. No, I didn't enjoy arguing and the many months and years I spent punished and priviledge-free, but I somebody had to stick to the man. But I wasn't just hardcore rebelling- if he DID happen to be right, I was the first person to admit it and back him up. But if I felt, even for a second, that he was wrong about something, I was going to let him know. He became absolutely ENRAGED that I DARED stand up to him and question his authority. He couldn't STAND it!!!!!!! And this fueled my passion even more. My mom and grandparents begged me to just acquiesce, and to keep the peace in the home. That's when I figured out that I actually held quite a lot of control.
I was always a little bit afraid of him. He could just get SO UPSET even over the pettiest of things, and his anger would just engulf him. I was scared that he was just going to come unhinged one day, and attack me or something (and he did get very close some days). I always had my guard up, which proved in itself to be quite the task (gee- no WONDER I had so many issues...). But when that day came, the day I realized that relationships were two-way, and that I had some control, I feared him no more. I was no longer afraid to stand up to him, give him my opinion, and give him a run for his money. He threatened me with just about everything, but I quickly came to realize that he was more bark than bite. It was like a small-scale Civil War, and I was NOT afraid to cross the Mason-Dixon line. After years of depression, fighting, and never getting anywhere, I came to another conclusion. Just ignore him. To me, this was essentially the same kind of tactical warfare, only silent: instead of fueling HIS fire, and causing so much racket, I just ignored him, and defied him. He would still become angered, but this way it wasn't so much on my shoulders, and by that I mean that he would appear to be the bad guy (okay, he really WAS the bad guy here people...), but it would no longer seem that I was causing the problems, which was logical, since I didn't- he only thought I did. He'd appear a madman. When he'd lecture me, I'd nod my head showing him I "agreed" to whatever it is that he might have said (I didn't really listen. I had heard the lectures so many times that I could practically recite them in my sleep). There was no need to listen to his bitter, salty words, and to let them seep into my mind, like an open wound. I was done being hurt by him, and I was going to let him know that.
Anyway, its more complex than all that, and you should know that I've only skimmed the top of this part of my story, but it should explain a lot. I know it may seem that I have made my parents out to be truly horrible and deranged people. You should know that I did my fair share of things to upset my dad (but it was MOSTLY the arguing. I never did ANYTHING truly bad as a child. I was really a compliant child, and put up with A LOT of emotionally disturbed adults and experiences). They are exactly as I have portrayed them to be. They wear masks (no, not literally you weirdo) to conceal this side of them. They appear like perfect and happy people to everyone else, which actually brings me to my next conclusion...

Conclusion #2: My religion. I was raised in a Mormon/LDS house. Despite the times that I knew the spirit wasn't with us, many values and morals were still nevertheless instilled within me. These helped me to always have faith in God, and know that for me, this religion was correct and true. However, something happened a while back that has given me reason to believe the church is not true. It bothered me greatly when Rick was called to be the bishop of his ward. This was a truly religious calling that would require him to be like a "father" for our ward. He would administer callings and jobs, but would also offer advice, counsel, and other forms of support for the people in the ward. Why did this bother me, you ask? Because I feel that for one to be worthy of such a calling, one should first and foremost be a good father to his OWN kids (whether by blood or marriage). I honestly didn't feel that he was a very good father to me. Yes, he clothed me, gave me shelter, and fed me, but are those the only qualifications to be a good parent? I didn't think so. So, therefore, I question the church in calling Rick to be a bishop. Couldn't they see what I saw? If the church wanted someone who wasn't good father (to me) to be the "father" of the ward (which was a HUGE calling), then why would the church be true? Does that make sense? Can you see where I'm going with that?

Well, this is all very deep, and for me to have written this has been very draining. I will continue with my other recently thought-over conclusions some other time. It is nigh impossible that anyone has actually read this entire post, but kudos to you if you did. Leave a comment, will ya?

Auf Wiedersehen.