Down, down, down

Well, every week it seems that I start off stressed, work my way up and down, then the weekend comes, I have plans to finish my work and get some reprieve. Usually, I have a nice Friday and get part of the way through Saturday before something hits me.

In this case, I'll start on Thursday. I started from school at a jog to a local guest home where I volunteer as part of my role in my school's Interact club (looks good on a resume, has scholarships, anyone in high school should consider it, sorry, I'm being told to recruit people). I had a nice few games of crib, and then I decided to go to Boston Pizza. I wasn't scheduled for work, but I had nothing waiting for me at home. I made it there, sat down for a while, and then my father (one of the owners, the other being my mother) told me that my aunt from out of town would be in for supper. So I waited and had supper with her, my grandmother and my great uncle. Afterwords, I received a text message from a friend about going to Don Cherry's for wings (which my friends and I do every Thursday). So I drive my, now slightly inebriated, relatives home, park their car and run from there to Don Cherry's. I make it there, worn and thirsty and my friends arrive a few moments later. We go in and I spot some of my hopeful friends. I go over to talk to them, I always try to do this, hoping that by making an effort to talk to them I'm making a good impression. They've finished their meal and soon head out. I sit down and order a pitcher (of beer) with a friend. Conversation, drinking and wings follow. We watch the hockey game, commenting on the fact that Canada's team should be doing much better. At the end of the game, there's a shootout, and the whole bar, ourselves included, cheer and sigh with every goal we block and shot we fail to get. It thankfully ends with local hero Sidney Crosby scoring the winning goal. We pay, leave and head up to one of our place's to play video games and by one o'clock, we're all heading home.

Friday wasn't quiet so eventful, but it did bring some measure of satisfaction. I bought a ticket to a Monte Carlo night for students, went home, got read and headed out. It was cool. There was music with a good DJ, tables for poker, blackjack, roulette and more. Everyone showed up looking well dressed and ready to gamble (with chips that could be traded in for tickets for a draw). I started at the poker table, where I lost sorely to two girls who had hardly a clue what they were doing; the dealer and I had to explain to them every time how they had won. I moved over to the roulette table, where my winnings almost evened out my losses, and from there I headed to the blackjack tables where I bled chips most of the rest of the night. I took breaks, tried other games, watched a dance competition (I wish I could dance better, or at least that I had enough confidence to try), and tried to find people to talk to. Twice at blackjack tables, myself and the other players had to explain to someone just coming on to a shift how to play. It was fun and I almost earned some chips. In the end, I didn't have enough chips to bid on any prizes, but it was funny to hear the comments on some of them. My name was called out as a mock winner of the Boston Pizza coupons (useless to me since my parents own it). And then everyone headed out, well mostly. I stayed behind with some of the people who had worked the night and some others just waiting. We sat and ate the delicious nachos and other food that had been out all evening, but had gone mostly unnoticed. All that meant was more for us. In the end I accepted a ride back home and wondered whether I should go the next day too. Saturday's was for adults, but being nineteen in grade twelve, I qualify for both. I decided against it in the end; I had my night and the parents should have theirs.

Saturday was boring. I just wasn't in a mood to do anything. I walked about nine kilometres to Boston Pizza to see if anything was going on just to walk back. But late that night (actually, extremely early Sunday), I got a strange message from a friend. To make a long and embarrassing story short, someone posed as a girl I know using her online account. They asked me something personal and then misinterpreted my deflection. They showed it to her, and now I don't want to have to deal with this tomorrow. Really, I think that this is just a good reason not to hang around her anymore. I seem to make friends (purposefully just friends) with the wrong types of girls. This, my crush and feelings of alienation are adding up to a lot of stress for me. Which leads into:

Sunday. I woke to my cellphone, which though a complicated history and setup is a Blackberry, which is only supposed to have phone settings, but also receives my father's e-mails, and my number has been changed and given to someone else. Basically, no one knows my number (which gets about two messages a week anyways) and now I'm getting message after message meant for my father. I checked it, and sure enough it wasn't for me. I went back to bed, it went off again. Again not for me. By this point I was awake, but I didn't care to be. I didn't mind it so much as I minded existing with all this stress hanging over me. In addition, I had plenty of work to do. I just sat there until somehow I got up and started my day. I wasted it. I just avoided doing anything. I tried looking for a friend, but there are few people I trust around, and few strangers willing to chat (I trust strangers because they have very little impact on my life and often have nothing to due with what I talk about). Failing to find a friend, my mind went crazy. Screaming and yelling, but you wouldn't know it from the look of me. Eventually I calmed down. I did some minor tasks, nothing important. I tried some diversions; I watched a television show (Stargate SG1), played Uncharted 2, but these just kill time. Nearing the end of the day, I finally started on my work. I got very little of it done, and I'll probably be busy finishing it all this week, but at least I got a grip. I'm better now, but I'm still stressed about what's ahead of me.

In case anyone is worried, I still think logically. My logic sometimes gets twisted, and that's usually from being alone too much, a fresh perspective (second opinion) usually fixes that. And for most major issues, my mind has a good track record of keeping me in line. I've though about suicide, drinking, moving out and other ideas at different times, but in each case I eliminated it as an option. I don't need anyone to tell me that. Right now, all I need is a little bit of wit and a lot of luck. And it always helps to keep a Card up my sleeve (it's capitalized for a reason).