Hello again, its me, Kitty. Yes, this boring girl whom sucks at describing things in real life. I hath cometh back with another story, thanks to Pixie (who just posted), so you can thank her for this monstrosity. But honestly, I somewhat don't want to type this. I'm not sure if I will post this (I mean, if you're reading this I obviously did, but if you're not reading this I may not have. INCEPTION 0.0). But I know I have to get this out and I cant keep this to myself like the socially distant person I am.
Rewind to somewhere between seventh and eighth grade (honestly I don't even flipping know). I remember this was a bit after I realized my daydreaming was a problem. I had had a rough day. I couldn't concentrate at all in my classes and I had a test that day that I wound up getting a C- on. And yes, for me, that is bad. I also remember I had recently been to a book fair and bought some Minecraft posters without my parents permission (but it was with my own money, so they wouldn't care even if they knew. Okay, they would have said to spend my money wiser, but they would have left it at that). In an effort to keep my parents from seeing it for probably some dumb reason, I taped up the posters in this cubby hole behind my closet I call “the wormhole”. It was my go-to spot for when I wanted to get away from life for a little bit. It was tiny, it barely fit me, but I felt like I could do anything in there! But mostly I just daydreamed. My parents learned that if they can't find me to go check in there, where I was usually found half asleep (they never did question the posters). When I realized just how bad my daydreams were getting, I came up with a brilliant plan: that I would only daydream in the wormhole. There was one problem though, and that problem was time. I only had time to go to the wormhole once a week at most. Between school and dance and homework and dance (wait I said dance twice. . . Meh it's still accurate), and then church and pipe on Sundays, I rarely had time for anything else. So I had to expand it to whenever I am on my room. But it was like your cat that you one time let have some of the cheese on your plate, then eventually they come every time you open the fridge (it was one time Elliot, and that wasn't even me!! Anyway, I digress). It expanded to the house, to school, to dance, then finally just everywhere. And, legit, I think this all happened within a fortnight. I had no control over it in the first place.
But I found a savior, a way of getting it out, A medium for my daydreaming, call it what you will, it gets it out of my system and allows me to focus on other things. It's also a way of looking as if I'm doing something productive and not just half asleep on the couch, and my parents being concerned about my health (even though they should be). My medium gave me a way to channel my daydreams, instead of like in books and movies which are honestly more fuel to the fire for me. It also gave me a way to see my daydreams outside my head, making my daydreaming needs out faster. It gives me a clearer vision of what was going on in my daydreams, and though I cant see other characters, it helps me visualize what theyre doing too, and makes me understand everything better. Without my medium, I am unfocused, lost, and confused, and those three words mean the same thing but whatever. And guess what? Surprise surprise, that's exactly what's happening. My mom has never liked me playing Minecraft from the start. She finds it useless, distracting, and time-wasting. My dad, on the other hand, looks at Minecraft as a productive and useful learning tool for students. Both of them think I take my dads side, which I do, but for other reasons. Minecraft, for me, is like a YouTuber. There are so many things that they do but it's always connected in some way, and there's other YouTubers you can go watch as well. Some youtubers will collab with eachother, but they’re still somewhat separate and I am getting too deep into this. Okay this is just me writing this at 10:00 at night on my iPod, plus it's unedited, so weird things may happen. And I am going to start a new paragraph here because reasons.
So, where were we? Right Minecraft, medium, title of the post, that stuff. When my mom sees me playing Minecraft, she sees her daughter wasting her time on something unproductive and honestly, really dumb. And that's an issue for me, because my mom “wears the pants” in the family, or is mostly in charge. But she never bothers to ask: why? Why do I love playing Minecraft, why does it consume me like sleep for normal people after a late night working or something? Granted, I should probably tell her why on my own and also granted I probably would give her another answer anyway, but she never looks at it from my perspective. She doesn't even try! Instead, she tells me I'm not allowed on the computer during weekdays and if I'm on it too long Saturday, I'm not allowed Sunday either. That happened this weekend, and I can't even begin to describe how much of a toll it's taken on me. I've been trying to compensate by being on my iPod at night before I go to bed, but that causes a lack of sleep which isn't helping me concentrate either, plus the added bonus of my friends are noticing. My mom won't admit it, but she compares it to an addiction. I see it every time she looks at me on the computer when I've been on it one second too long. I want to yell at her that Minecraft isn't an addiction, it the reason I play Minecraft that's the addiction. But my mom won't understand. Even if I do work up the courage to tell her, I know the response won't end well. I've seen how she reacts to people with mental disorders.
My family has personal experience of specifically the depression mental disorder. My uncle has it, and left my aunt because of it. That's all I know of his side of the story. Well, he has depression because he never really had a stable family life, and now his mom died of cancer I think and his dad committed suicide recently, and so he left my aunt. But now my mom keeps saying he didn't know how good he had it being with my aunt and how he's dangerous and she doesn't want him and my aunt alone, even though this is the same guy she's known for years, and my aunt isn't dead yet. That's how my mom sees people with mental disorders: dangerous and has no idea of the world around them. Perhaps she has a point in some cases, but I'm scared that's how she’ll look at me if she finds out. Maybe that's how my dad and sister will look at me too. Or maybe they'll look at me as some poor lost child who need help every step of the way. I don't want to be looked at differently, just as the same old Kitty. The same emotionally stressed Kitty that feels like she has no one to help her but one friend and a bunch of random people on the internet (no offense, you guys are great). The same old Kitty.
On a slightly happier note, I got a new kitten last weekend. He’s already made it into some of my daydreams.