I can't do it anymore mom.

Where do I go? 

What do I do?

How can I help?

What do I say?

I honestly can't take it anymore. For those of you who are unaware, my father was laid off just before Christmas last year, which has put my family in a very complicated position. Luckily, because we had been on the cusp of purchasing a new home, we had a good amount of money in savings, giving us a sufficient amount of time to float a bit before finding a new source of income. Then, as days of job hunting became weeks of hearing nothing, then months without any hope, we arrived as the horrid point which I find myself now. I am working my ass off to get TTF to a place it has yet to see and make Titan Rewards more epic than anyone had ever expected. While I bust myself to meet deadlines and meet expectations, I have yet to be paid. For some reason unbeknownst to any in programs, financial aid can't grasp the concept of monthly scholarships which resulted in the office closing for a week. Now, as I sprint past the two months of working for free mark, the financial situation at home worsens. Our savings is entirely dry, my mother is too sick to continue working at an intense rate, my father has picked up a low paying job as a file clerk, and my eleven year old sister is in the process of getting braces and entering the expensive world of travel softball. My tuition is due, my car doesn't magically have gas every week, my phone is broken and often times needs to be paid, and the money is gone. 

I have worked hard to let go of certain aspects of my lifestyle, looked for alternate forms of work, and am in the process of begging for Financial Aid to let go of a bit of money to sustain myself. I am doing all of this not for myself but to help my family in it's time of need, but am only met with disdain and arguments. This evening, as I returned from what I felt had been a highly productive day at school, I was greeted with yelling and screaming because I am ungrateful. My answers are met with tears and I am scolded for "not really understanding that we have no money." She says that I don't take it seriously. That is the biggest amount of bull shit I've ever heard. She is perfectly aware of my anxiety and my lack of sleep and my job search. Now, she has to criticize me for "working for free" and demeaning all that I have been working so hard for. I have not considered my family through out this ordeal, apparently, and I have no respect for her. But honestly, who can respect a person who proved to be ignorant to anyone's feelings for so long? Why should I feel bad for not cleaning my room when she justifies it's mess with the idea that I don't take pride in my home. When she asks how I think she feels, my response ("I feel that you take my clothes on my bed very personally") stirs even more hatred in her eyes and response. 

Her inability to control her emotions disgusts me and I am quite sure that she knows it. I cannot even speak to someone who is so blind to her actions. Every word she just shouted meant only that she cannot take the time to see that she is not the only one effected, and although it feels better to have someone to blame in a situation like ours, there is absolutely nothing I can do that I have not yet done. 

I do not respond to your childish threats, nor will I ever respect you when you treat me this way over and over again. Since the divorce you've taken your emotions out on me. Since your illness worsened you've taken your pain out on me. Since your stress grew you took your impatience out on me. Just because I was the only one you had doesn't mean you have any right to treat me that way. Not then, not now, not ever. So honestly, if you're reading this, I would appreciate if you took a moment to reevaluate everything you just said to me. When you compared me to all the people you were sure had second and third jobs, how you demeaned me intellectually, emotionally and as your daughter, know that I can't take it anymore. 

Don't come into my room crying and apologizing. Don't call me and admit to being a bitch and not knowing why. The first time I understood and the second time I appreciated your apology. Now I cannot take it seriously. 

I love you, but you hurt me too much. 

It is approximately 10:22p at home. Here in Indiana it is 1:22a. 

The adventure was more than tiresome. 

We first got to LAX in perfect time, despite having left later than anticipated, and got our boarding pass after a terribly unnecessary wait. I barely made the maximum weight limit, hitting 46ish pounds.I then embarked on my anxiety attack train and attempted to keep up with Joe and Faith as they led me through the numerous paths that eventually led to the fateful metal detector. Much to my surprise it didn't hurt one bit, and I experienced the airport floor without shoes. That was special. We then took a break so that Joe could enjoy his nostalgic moment with his lunchables and we eventually boarded the plane. As a result of an adrenaline related attempt to calm my nerves I bit down forcefully on my wallet to find that it didn't help. I then got the seat away from behind Faith and Joe and was accompanied by some creeper with giant rings, a skull tattoo on the back of his bald head, and a strange habit of staring at me the entire flight. 

I came to find that the worst part of a flight is not the fear of lift off or even the dreadful time in the air, but the time we land. It is as though one is hitting the break and is risking hitting the car in front of them. It was gruesome. 

From there we got to bar hop, learn conveyer belt etiquette, play a tram game, and enjoy a hearty McDonald's breakfast. We boarded a smaller plane not much later and continued on from Detroit to Indianapolis. After what seemed only moments we landed and retrieved our luggage. We continued to the check in for our limo and came to realize that we would be traveling with a number of other ILead attendants. It was pretty neat. We got a chance to meet and mingle with others who were being forced to endure this conference. 

After passing several corn fields and questionably alienated massage parlors we arrived at the Indiana University, Bloomington. We were greeted by a number of yelling staff members and were escorted to our rooms where we learned the true appreciation of air conditioning. It was mid morning and already 89+ degrees. After several icebreakers, name games, and group separations, we got a chance to eat. I found that it was more pleasant than I had expected it would be and realized my resentment was a result of a sleepless night or two and lack of sustenance. 

We later continued our discussions on various leadership related topics. Our group was lucky enough to get the "evening news"" duty and came up with an amazingly hilarious skit which inadvertently made us all closer and got a good amount of laughs. I then learned that sandwiches, pizzas, and chinese food can be delivered here at most hours of the day. I am sure this week will be turning up more and more as the days go on. I thought you'd appreciate a detailed update since Indiana is the hotspot for all the parties this year. 

Enjoy. I know I am?

Mel

Start Time: 5:38a

I would like to begin with a warning:

I have yet to sleep and am quite nervous about flying for the first time in my entire nineteen years. 

For those who know me, I often write any and all random thoughts in an attempt to waste time, but I think I should get some facts about myself down first. So, ladies and gentlemen, here is the beginning of what should be a fascinating lesson. Also, this is a fad that I seem to be giving into, so I hope this post proves fascinating enough. Here it goes...

I am always nervous.

I curl my toes because I was once told it was cute. It stuck.

I never wear matching socks.

I am allergic to dairy, bees, many soaps and lotions, perfume, and various other life necessities.

I went through a stage wear I only wore hooded sweatshirts and jeans.

I have a very large head, literally. A hat is rarely made that can embrace it entirely.

I love to peel my nails.

I have quit peeling my nails.

If I could spend every moment in silence I would, if only to fully take in everything around me.

I could use more hypo-allergenic lotion in my life.

I like to sing more than people like to hear me sing.

I am to optimism as eyeliner is to the emo.

I aspire to be a psychologist.

I have been involved in 3+ fist fights.

I can make myself cry.

I care about what others think of me.

I once wrote an entire paper on broccoli.

Sometimes I wonder if my shoulder was ever really that injured, or if my surgeon simply wanted money.

I have learned never to hate, but simply to turn the other way.

I have never kept a best friend for more than 2 years.

I know a person's insecurities simply by looking at them.

I used to be the Grace to somebody's Will.

I question my religion a lot more lately than ever before.

I was born at Pointe Memorial Hospital in San Diego.

If I could move to San Diego right now, I would.

I love riding in trains.

I don't care for my things as I should because I know they can be replaced.

I can be a bit of a hypochondriac.

I never liked highschool.

I wish I knew more...about anything.

I come off as eager but I am simply excited to still be breathing.

My mother is like me but shorter and more excited about life.

I have no money.

My least favorite part of drawing/sketching/painting is having to finish it...I feel like it ruins it.

I am entirely too insecure.

I have a deep love for Billie Holiday.

I fear the day that I cannot say "when I grow up..."

I want three more tattoos. 

I have always thought that one day I would become a famous performer.

I resent my childhood.

My favorite color is purple. Sometimes.

If I could be any animal I'd be a turtle.

I stereotype all hospital employees as characters from Scrubs.

I wish I spoke Spanish better.

My mom made me a baby blanket when I was 14.

I don't remember what happened yesterday.

I am in a constant "honeymoon period" until I am forced to see your imperfections.

I have a half sister named Samantha Rose Perchez and a half brother named Caleb Curtis DelaCruz.

I have a grandma who believes in ghosts and tattoos her eyebrows.

My mom almost named me Candy Dulce. Aka I was almost a stripper.

I miss random people.

I dislike people for random reasons.

I like to speak with random strangers.

I have never broken a bone.

I can't touch my tongue to my nose.

I hate the smell of spit.

I could live on Chipotle rice.

I am Hawaiian but have never been there.

My family is famous in Norway (look up Bergie Bergeson, he is my greatx4 grandfather)

I am Mexican, Filipino, Norweigen, Hawaiian, and Scottish.

Chicano Studies made me resent America...a lot.

I become socially awkward around socially awkward people.

I have a list of Things to Do Before I'm 30.

My first love was named Knoxx but he moved to Canada when we were 8. 

I have more relatives than the number of citizens in many U.S. towns. 

I don't particularly enjoy bands whose lead singers have whiney voices.

I like drive-ins.

I like broccoli.

I wish I had more opportunities to write in an artistic sense.

I can't wait to succeed.

I have given myself no choice but to attain every goal I set for myself.

I just can't wait to live.

I have no regrets.

I am finally who I have wanted to be for a long time.

I love until I am given a reason to feel otherwise.

I am ready.