Okay, so life has been shitty lately. I know, I know, everyone and their mother has to write angsty, whiney journal entries when things don't go their way. Go ahead and skip this one, if you want. You won't be missing much.

For those of you that don't know, my father went into the hospital last Tuesday and stayed in the hospital until late Friday afternoon. He's very, very ill but he still refuses to admit it. We got the tests back and it is what we feared it would be: cirrhosis. Not that any of us are surprised, really, we simply nodded our heads. But knowing something terrible has happened and seeing confirmation straight up to your face... there is a big difference there that I doubt most people will understand.

At this point in time, my life is exceptionally hectic. I was hoping only to be working one night a week doing the karaoke stuff, but it turns out I have three nights. I also work at Irwin Marine for around 30 hours a week and off and on at Just Works in Nashua. Plus my muic career which is... well... difficult.

The main problem with the karaoke stuff is simple: I work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights from 9pm - 1am. And I work at Irwin most days of the week from 8am - 5pm. My boss was nice enough to let me come in later on the nights I do karaoke, but still. I go into work for 10am and get off of work (other than two hours' break in the evening between jobs) at 1am. While the show for karaoke starts at 9, I'm usually there at 7 setting up and making sure everything is all ready and I normally don't leave until a little after 1am. So, in short, I have no free time and no sleep.

On top of that, I have competitions for horseback riding as well as being in martial arts in addition to that so I really have no spare time whatsoever. It's miserable, in the reality of things, because I have no time to breathe and I've been so tired I'm dizzy for the last four days. I worked the punishing hours this week, am working today (right now, actually) and have a horse show to do tomorrow. I'm going to be in the barn this evening helping to prep the horses and then Monday I go in for work at 8am after having been riding all day Sunday in the competition. Let me tell you, this sucks.

I got out of school on Tuesday of last week and between all the problems with my father and trying to get my room organized (somehow) I've not had a moment to spare and it's been terrible. No breathing room, no down time, just go, go, go, go, go!

On top of everything, my stress levels are sky high and I've been having trouble eating (again). I weighed myself the other day and apparently I weigh 120. Now, for most of you, that sounds like a good thing, but for me it's not so much. Not long ago, I was down in the 112, 115 range. And that's not good at all. I'm not annorexic, I don't enjoy seeing my bones poke out of my skin, but when I am as stressed out as I am, I have trouble eating. Or, when I do, I simply feel sick. It's rather miserable.

As a result, I have no energy, I get body aches and muscle cramps and just all around feel bleck. It's unpleasant. I'd almost rather have the problem of eating too much when I'm stressed rather than the opposite. At least that way I could get proper nutrition rather than this. I do try to eat, though. It's not for lack of effort on my part. It really isn't.

Other than that, life is going. The summer is sucking, but I expected that. My father is making things hell, but I knew that was coming. He spent hours lecturing my mother because she gave him the wrong knife to cut his sandwich with. The poor woman works 65 hours a week to keep his sorry ass under medical insurance and pay for everything and he is haranguing her at every pass. Every night she's in tears and it angers me. My sisters are little better. 13 and in school full time, they never are allowed to see friends, he keeps them isolated like he did to me. Not allowed to go anywhere or see anyone or talk to anybody. It took a long battle for us to have him allow them to go into counseling and even then he demanded to talk to their counselor before they did. A thing that we have denied him. He keeps refusing to allow them to talk to anybody about anything. It goes with the alcoholism, I am told. But it angers me nonetheless. It's been like this for years, though.

However much I might hate him, however glad I will be when he's gone, he's still my dad. And in the end... what the else is there? In the end what? What? Nothing. That's what. Nothing.