Whatcha gonna do about it?

Names are funny things, I got this blog's name on accident (Well not the URL, that was just kind of-- hmm-- first word-- pinapple-- let me get hit by a train-- well that's positive). I was thinking "in over my head" and then i was like-- well-- that's already a songs name and pretty much copying so that's not fun.

Then, i was thinking, i'm consumed. Consumed in everything around me, and everything about life steadily spiraling downward. Consumed in grief, consumed in my lack of grief, and i looked up synonyms for the word consumed, and then i saw the link in a little tabbie thing and i thought "Hey, that sounds interesting." So. Blame it on dictionary.com.

I wish i could cook. That's something not a lot of people know about me. I love baking, i love making cookies, and cakes and brownies and if it wouldn't make my family think i was quite so insane i'd probably do it more.

I think too much about what my family says about me. In this outer seeing of my family i seem to feel like they think i'm still the 8 year old dressing up as pocahantus (i don't care about spelling so just fuck off if that's really how you feel). They treat me like that a lot.

It feels a lot like they don't want me to succeed. It seems like in their minds they think that i'm the eight year old, and i can't grow up because i'm the youngest, and if i'm old then that must make them really old.

But here's the thing. I'm lactose intolerant, and when i get sick, i get really sick. Tears stream out of my eyes, and my stomach feels like something ripping it apart from the inside. If you know what that kind of pain feels like, then you're not eight years old anymore.

I only say that cause i've ate two boxes of girl scout cookies today and they're all engrained with milk (oh the calories).

About the family though, even in some circumstances that you'd think they'd want from me-- they hold me back. Oh, don't do the laundry because you don't know how. But they've never taught me. How am i supposed to learn how to be an adult if they never taught me? I'm not eight years old anymore, and the knowledge just doesn't occur in a dream from Jesus.

I've developed a certain learned helplessness. I try and I try and I try to fight my way around it, but no matter what the same people are still holding me back. I won't even be in a relationship with people attempting to hold me back from anything, why would i ever want to be in a family like that?

Metaphorically, i'm a fragile bird, placed in a cage for way too long, and the second i try to succeed, something that could be good for me, my family get's too afraide and they chain me down again. They go crazy, literally, fighting to hold me down. That's not love. That's never been love.

Let me free.