I love my parents. They've done an excellent job raising me. But still.

I want a tattoo.

My parents don't know this because they have completely forbidden tattoos.

Piercings get a no. I'm not allowed to be a police officer. Or an artist. Moving to America got "now why would you want to do that, honey?" Motorbikes are deemed unsafe and therefore are forbidden. Playing soccer was never allowed for fear that Sunday games would interfere with church. Road trips, I'm not sure why, but they are also unacceptable in my parents list of things one can do.

Dreams get crushed so easily, just by a phrase. I want something, a dream or a hope, or even something I had never even considered, but they, my parents, without even knowing, manage to throw it from a cliff onto the rocks far below.

I huddle down in the back seat of the car, guilt pilling on me, as my mother tells my friend why tattoos are bad.

I want one. I wanted to play soccer, I wish I had had the chance to be a ballerina. I want I want I want. Chances not taken, now never to be taken.

My parents' opinions are important to me. I hate breaking my promises, I hate breaking their trust. But their opinions also weigh down on me, forcing me into a box they created. They see me as a 12 yr old girl who hasn't grown up yet. I am still the girl who plays in mud and doesn't understand why boys are so great.

They don't realize that their little darling has grown up, and I'm not asking them to let me go, to toss me into the wind and see if I can fly. I am not saying that I hate them and I wish I didn't have to live by their stupid rules.

But there is a time to let go. Just a little bit. Just a crack. I want to right to make my own mistakes, to live my own live and to cry my own tears. I want only a little bit more freedom.

If you said yes, I would want a scorpion, little, under my left ear, just on my neck.

Since you said no, I want a dragon curling up my spine.

I probably wouldn't want a tattoo as much if you had said yes.

Parents: There is a time. Please remember that.

<.>

There are some days where I feel like the world is crashing down around me. This is one of those days.
This is where the manic side of manic-depressive comes out. The mania makes me do stupid things, and I always feel like I can't help it.

I feel so alone right now that it is pretty much pathetic. I am counting with fingertips against my lips all the people that I care for and care for me, to try and steady myself. They are all either too far away, have proven themselves untrustworthy, or were never my friends to begin with. That, and who can you call up at 3:00 in the morning on a Monday when everyone has to work? I'd gladly drive the 70 some-odd miles from my mom's house to the place where my love is, but I'd only get there in time for me to leave, and then I'd just depress myself when it's time for me to be away from him.

There is an uncomfortable, twisting, anxious sort of anguish that is wallowing in the pit of my stomach. I want it to go away. I wish I could cry and get it over with and feel better about whatever it is, but I can't place it, other than the loneliness.

One of my best friends told me that the other night, he stayed up all night counting the things in his head that made him sad. I don't know if he was trying to torture himself or gain peace of mind, but I can't find anything to be truly sad about, at least not for me. All my complaints are superficial, and here I am, whining, praying for the tears to come and hoping that there will be enough of them so that I can swim away in my own salty sea.

I just want to get away. I feel like, like I need a change. Last time I needed a change, I dyed my hair, cut 3 inches off. Did what I had to do to feel like a different person, even if it was just for a little while.

They used to have me on medication for this. Medication I stopped taking in October, 2008. They wanted to put me on Lithium. Lithium is for batteries. I do not require batteries to keep going and going and going and going...
I've been on a pretty good sized handful of medications... Zoloft, Paxil, Topamax, Trazedone, Naltrexone, Fluoxetine, Celexa, Seroquel... None of them made me feel normal, or balanced. None of them let me feel anything.
So I stopped. And have been managing on my own. Or trying to.

But this is the first time since I stopped that I felt like I could not fall asleep, yet could not get out of bed.
I feel like I have all this energy and can't focus enough to finish a task. I spend and spend and spend and tell myself I can manage it later, and then later comes around, and I'm kicking myself in the teeth because all of a sudden I owe my brother $200, have to pay the $400 that is now 90 days passed due on my car, have a million assignments at work to catch up on, and then I'm just... full of all this anxiety.
I've got all these things weighing on me, but I still don't feel like they are the culprits in this mood, at least not this time.

Mom says it's time to go back to therapy.
Mom says a lot of things.

It is Susan's birthday today. Susan is a psych nurse in a hospital ward which helps people from rural areas. She is a mother of three boys who have all completed school. Two are starting university and one is working. Her husband Michael is an aeroplane mechanic.

Susan is my sister, as is Linda. Both my sisters are golden and blue like a Summer day. My brother, Peter, is dark and wry. I am short grey and round, like a mushroom. We are all very different. Lindy and Andy are at home again after being evacuated during the Victorian bushfires. Susan is in Adelaide, near me. Peter and April are in Melbourne city.

We grew up on a farm with cattle, donkeys, chooks, ducks, dogs, cats and occasional sheep. Rolling down hills and making mysteries and battles between the olive trees and creek beds. Making up languages and hiding mischief.

Susan once made a 'rubber' chocolate cake which was very bouncy. She survived an epic bike prang and was stoic about blood noses. She went to Europe with Dad when we were younger to learn about music. She still plays violin and an interest in music is shared by the rest of her family.

Susan is a peace maker. Funny and gentle, but also clear in her thinking and goals; steady.
We have had great times making patchwork quilts with mum. We sent a butterfly quilt to Linda, and made a tangram quilt for the 2008 Linux Conference in Melbourne. Sue likes cottagey rose patterns and has a secret garden.

This year especially I am thankful that Susan is my sister, that I have the family I do.
Sometimes the mesh of family is more explicit than others, 2008 was one of those times for me.

Sassed I wish you every good fortune in 2009.

The E2 Connection, Again

My mother had an older brother from whom she hadn't heard since shortly after my birth, I think when their father (my maternal grandfather) died in 1963. It's funny that my father also had a brother who "disappeared" (we said that dad's brother "went off to join the circus"). Talk would occasionally come up at the dinner table of the two "lost uncles."

Yesterday I received an email from my cousin, daughter of mom's brother Leslie. Boy, was it a shock! Mom never bothered to tell me I had cousins from Leslie.

It turns out that this woman read Aunt Tootsie Dies, right here on ol' E2, and by doing a bit of detective work, found out that it was I who wrote the piece.

Everything2 is read by far more people than actually sign up for an account. This recent contact is just one of many contacts made or renewed because of my membership and contributions to this website.

Boy, the world is really getting much smaller!

Love,

Shaogo

It's president's day today in the US. One of the big icons being celebrated especially this time around is Abraham Lincoln with his 200th birthday last Thursday.

Four Score and seven years ago...

A lot has changed in 200 years, but one thing a local school district wants all students to remember, is Abraham Lincoln. They had involvement from the army, orchestra, contest winners from Abe-Essays, and even the infamous speech Lincoln gave.

"He's one of our most beloved president's, I think it's the fact that he embodies the American Ideals of democracy, unity, inclusion, charity, and those enduring ideals last, and that's why we're celebrating him," said Geoffry Thomas.

I asked a mother what leadership qualities Abraham Lincoln had that she hoped her son would have too?

Amy Leatham answered, "That maybe you have to go against the popular opinion, you might have to do something very difficult, even at great risk to yourself."

And that's exactly what Lincoln did, saving an almost divided nation, and making it united.

In another school a couple miles away, they made quite the creation.

A snow sculpture of Abraham Lincoln. It took them two days to bucket snow, piling it just right of their front door. They then hired a sculptor to come in and make it look precisely like the Lincoln Memorial in D.C.