Frustrated

This has been a word that has taken up a big part of my vocabulary recently, and for more reasons than one, some which I’d rather not admit.

The reason I’ve chosen this word out of any other is because in all of many babysitting gigs that I have, the one thing that I’ve learned it’s that children get angry and throw tantrums because they are frustrated.

They are frustrated because they think they aren’t being listened to or aren’t being understood or for a variety of other reasons.

This summer I have found myself relating to a 3 year old more than I’d like to. What Ella can get accomplished in kicking and screaming, I cannot. That in itself is frustrating

When I was in Peru, I was happy, generally happy, and that is something I haven’t felt in a while. Since returning from Peru, I haven’t felt happy whatsoever. That is frustrating.

My family adopted a dog (more on that later) and I’m virtually the only one who cares for her. I feed her every day, take her out every other hour, play with her, make sure she takes her pills, everything. My mom pays for it yeah, but that’s the easy part. My dad usually takes her out before he goes to bed and my sister only takes her out if no one else is home. I love my dog but she isn’t ‘my dog’ and when I call her mine everyone gets pissed off but when I say  that I’m the only one who takes care of her, everyone still gets pissed off. That is frustrating.

My dog has heartworm. If she gets too excited or excited at all really, she could die, and no one seems to care. That is frustrating.

I had secured a job paying $18 an hour (I would have made $4000 by the time I went back to school)  for the next 6 weeks and then it was taken right out from under my feet. That is frustrating.

My sister has some mental stuff going on and is getting treated for it (I’m not saying that’s bad at all, yay for getting help) but my parents seem to only care about her and not me whatsoever. No matter what I do or say nothing matters except my sister. They get mad at me for speaking my mind or for things I didn’t do. That is frustrating.

After writing all of these things down on virtual paper, they seem so miniscule, but as I sit here with damp cheeks it’s so freeing to get everything out.

Well, I have to go make my bed on the kitchen floor (also more about that later) so here’s to blotchy cheeks and bad backs.

Alicia