My "collection"

My collection that's how I refer to it now. The little row of delicately placed mini scars that I...sort of put there. All at low points, but still. They are there and they are visible to everyone, not just me. I didn't hide them on my wrist or stomach. They are there for all to see. Though most don't have the slightest idea because they are so small and they don't think that a "good little christian girl" like me would ever go there. Oh but if only they knew. If only they knew that I'm not exactly that good little girl they all assumed I was. Oh they'd rethink then, they'd rethink the idea of letting their darling "babies" hang out with me. They'd rethink the idea of asking me to babysit, to help out around the camp/church. They'd rethink it all. And where would I be then? Alone once more...oh but wait. I have my little collection to keep me company. Don't want to forget about those little things. (It's kinda hard when every time you wash your hands there they are, every time you type there they are, every time you hand something over...there they are...daily reminders...as if I needed that.) Honestly, I've tried to hide them. Not really for me...but more for others. YES! I admit it. They are embarassing. They show off how low I've sunk. How pathetic my life is that I've got to revert to that! So yes, I've tried wearing long sleeves...works okay..in winter. I've tried makeup, didn't work so well, I've tried jewelry...never managed to stay there long enough. I guess I can't hide it, especially not with me adding to it every few months. *Sigh* If only I had never sunk this low.

Who am I kidding?

I dont know what I'm doing. Who am I kidding? I have no idea how to write, how to put words on paper. I dont know the grammar rules, I don't know how to structure something, my plots fall apart, my characters are flat. So really...who am I kidding?

No one. No one's falling for this pathetic lie, except me that is. I'm still clinging to the belief that this isn't a lie, that this isn't another flop another thing I pretended I knew how to do. But in all honesty, it probably is. I'm not kidding anyone here. All it takes is 5 seconds reading my WIP and you'll see. You'll see how terribly I fail at writing. The words sit awkwardly on the pages, the characters scream for a chance to do something other than sit there and have pointless conversations with each other...if they are even lucky enough to get that...So really. Who am I kidding? Wait, I've already answered this question. But just for kicks, I'll answer again. NO ONE.

*Sigh* Sometimes I wonder what the point is? Why do I even bother to try. Everything I've ever done has failed. From School to friends to writing to photography to work to taking care of myself. It's all failed...and it will all fail again. That "word" really is sitting there, looming in the horizon just waiting for me, its prey, to draw near. Do I run? Nah, I'm too stubborn to run. No, instead I'll sit here and stare at it a little bit longer. I'll ponder why it's here and whether or not I can force it to leave. (Which it won't). So what will I do...I'll walk right up to it and let it take over my life.

*Sigh* What's happened to me?

I'm Not Alright-Poem Fail

I’m not alright
I’m broken inside
As the pain cracks the thick walls
Banishing the light
Letting darkness seep inside

My hearts broken in two
Forever broken
As the tears I cry
Slip through the cracks
Escaping reality
I am not alright

My heart has gone numb
Frozen in time
Icy to the touch
Unable to feel
Even the simplest emotions
Unable to understand
The hardships of life

My life shrinks, into a ball
It rolls away
Far away
From the tiny fingers that reach out
Trying to save
The life that’s slipping away

Alone...as always

Once again I found myself alone tonight, just like always. I was told I wouldn't be alone, that I wouldn't have to worry about it. What a lie that turned out to be. We all know the truth. We all know how it ALWAYS ends up...it always ends up with someone not following through with their promise and someone else all alone and hating every minute of it. Oh sure tonight wasn't THAT bad. But still...it was bad enough that it made me think about thinks. Thinks I'd rather not even go into right now, things like "will I always be like this?" GOSH MOLS IT WAS A STUPID LITTLE THING! THEY WERE JUST LATE IN ARRIVING! GET OVER IT! But...they still left me alone. And then even those who could have helped out, choose not to. So really I guess I'm mad about those that left me alone on purpose. The other person, well they didn't have a choice really but still...those other people. They left me, they chose to leave poor little ole me all alone. So many others have, so what will stop future people from making the same decision? I know I said that this anger probably comes from these annoying and stupid people tonight, but there are other things that are bringing this idea to my mind tonight. One in particular. I feel as if one of my best friends is...avoiding me. Ditching me. As if she's like, gotten tired of listening to me rant about my annoying life when her's is probably worse. (I don't actually know as we haven't really talked much lately...which is why I feel this way too) I feel as if she's just sik of being my friend, so many others have in the past that it makes me wonder if she'll stay legit. If she'll still be here come tomorrow. **Sigh** This is what I think about. This is what I dwell on day after day. But you know what? Most of it probably is true. When I do talk to Alana* I feel as if she tries to end the conversation as soon as possible because she can't stand talking to me. When for all I know, she may really be tired, she may really have to help her family, she may really need to go do something. Yet I sit here and continue to come up with stupid reasons/proof as to why she's trying to get rid of me. **Sigh** I need to get back to reality. I know that, but...I don't know how. All I see is this. This pathetic thing I call my life. It's my fault really. I would have had a life if I'd accept people's offers to do things. But know, I turn it down with the lame excuse..."I'm busy". In fact I lie to people about what's going on in my life all the time. I tell them several things "yeah I'm fine" "I don't care" "nothing happened" "I'm busy" "I have to do......blah" Most of the times I use lame excuses to get out of things I'm too shy to admit I want to even try. I should just shut up. No one reads this. Trust me I know. I looked it up. The only page views I get are from myself....how sad is that? Pretty sad I must admit. Now, I think I'll go. I'll just leave you with one quick pathetic attempt a poem.

Darkness creeps in around me

Silence fills the air

An empty soul

Is hiding here

Away from light

Away from view

Locked up

In this cold dark cell



Can you hear them?

The voices of the lost

Crying out to be heard

Can you hear those above

Those in the light

Desperately calling your name

Can you hear it?



So far from light

Have you fallen

Deep into the shadows

In endless pits

And into the dark

You shall remain

For your soul has already

Given up hope

Blocked the entrance to the heart

And crawled to the corner

Afraid to face the world

Afraid to see what you could become



Can you see?

The light high above

Or have you blocked your eyes as well

Are you scared to be saved?

Scared to live again

To feel

To trust others not to hurt you again

To love…once again?

Wish I knew

I had this amazing idea for a blog post. I was all excited about typing it up today. But...it's gone. Where, who knows.

I've got a year left, one stupid, pathetic, year. What will I do? My entire life has been a blur, boring, plain, and sometimes annoying. But now that I'm beginning the end, it seems as if it should be picking up. It seems as if it should be becoming exciting. But that's just the thing. It isn't. Instead I sit here and count down the days till I turn 18 and begin making my own choices(344). I plot out all the things I'll do AFTER my 344 days are over. But what do I do during those days? Who knows. I'll probably just end up wasting them. Spending them working, hiding out in my room, writing things I know will never see the light of day, take photos of things I'll later be too ashamed to show anyone, really I guess my problem here is self esteem. But I'm not in the mood to go there. So what else is there to do? Besides sit at home and be a bum for the next 344 days.

Well there's always the old standby, arguing with your mother. I'm sure she'll just love me after that. In all honesty, I doubt her and I will ever truly get along well. We may have in the past...when I was her perfect little princess...but not now. And not in the future. She'll be just like my dad then, another person that's NOT in my life. I'll basically be a self declared orphan. Hmmm...that sounds funny. Sure, I know plenty of people would DIE to have both of their parents or even one of them. But this is my choice here. She has never shown much interest in being a part of my life so why should I force something that just will never be? Exactly. I shouldn't, and won't. *sigh*

I don't know how I got here. To this pathetic level. I mean, what child in their right mind would WANT to be an orphan. Well, me. That's who. Maybe not a legit one, but I sure as heck seem to want it like that emotionally. Why...I wish I knew. I wish I knew why I sit at this desktop so often and plot out my escape. I wish I knew. But I just don't. And I really doubt I ever truly will.

What's motivation?

If I hate it so much, then why don't I do anything about it? Hmmm. Good question, it's probably just my lack of motivation. I have none. I've said a million different times, "this time it will be different" "I will do this" and guess what...I've never done it. All I have to do is look down or look in the mirror and I'll see that. I've failed. Failed miserably too.

People always tell me "your beautiful" "your pretty" "you look nice" And sure...I'll say "thanks" maybe smile a little, or I'll simply shrug and say "yeah right" or "whatever". Honestly, I don't believe them. Never have. I do have my moments where I'll look at myself and say "i like what I see" but that quickly fades as seconds later I spot another problem. "Oh wait, what about that?" "Ew, what's that?" "Sick." "Ugh" Yes that is honestly how I feel about myself. On a scale of one to ten for satisfaction with myself? I'd give it a two right now. Honestly a two. Maybe even a one. I failed, I really have. And that right there makes it a MUCH lower number. Some days, it's a 5. Some days its a 6. But it's NEVER any higher than that. God, I have problems. I should just get off my lazy butt and do something shouldn't I? But wait, I'm too lazy to actually get off that lazy butt. Hmmm. What to do?

Sometimes, I just wish I didn't have this problem. But then again its my own fault isn't it? Right, it is.

Spotted: Reality Version.

BASICALLY Here's what happened. Now that I've gotten over my stupid little....analogy.
I was in the kitchen. Ali smeared cake on my face. I went to wipe it, with my....hand. She gasped. "What happened to your hand!" (minor panic attack) "Uh...nothing. It's fine." (yanks hand down and tries to act normal) Sam walked in right as she was gasping. "What's wrong with her hand?" (see's it, I run behind table, and attempt to do something without using it) "What did you do? Did you fall? Hit something? Run into something?" (I answer no for everyone, shaking my head, saying "no") "What did you do?" "I don't know." They look at me awkwardly then look at each other and whisper something. I hide and throw myself into the work...which isn't much. And pray that they ignore it, forget about it, etc.

Spotted.

I've been spotted.

I knew this day would come, just not this soon. Why couldn't I have had a little more time? Just a little bit longer to myself? It had to come out eventually, the truth will eventually be known. Thank God its not today. If not today, then what day? Is it better to hide it within my own dark little rooms, with only the walls to listen to my secrets? Or is it better to bring it out, to shine the light on it, to open the doors and parade people through those dark and dusty rooms? They've never seen a human before, let alone let one in. Why should they bother now? "'Cause People need to know." But do they? Do they "need" to know as so many others have put it? Should I let them come in, parading around my deepest, darkest rooms; filled to the brim with hidden secrets that even I've long forgotten? Should I?

They've seen the room. A quick glimpse through the cracked door. I knew I should have fixed that long ago, but I was too stubborn, too lazy is more like it, to fix the hole, to keep it all hidden away in secret. And now they know. Really I have no one to blame but myself. Had I fixed the crack, had I made it a little less easy to see right into the darkest room, then maybe I'd still be here with just myself. But they know. And now that they know, they'll never go back to not knowing. They saw it. They saw the secret, hidden in the darkest corner, crouched there alone. They've seen it, and it saw them. Now what do i do? Do I let them in, do I ignore it, do I pretend they were simply seeing things? Do I deny it's existence? Do I avoid them until they hopefully forget all about it? They most likely won't. The worst part is, they seemed sincere about it all. They wanted to know what it was, how it got there and why it was there. They were honest, and I pretended I didn't even know it was there. At the time I was all like "what room" "I don't know what you are talking about" "I don't know". How I could be such a liar, before such honest people I will never know. For the truth is I do know. I know how it got there, I know why it's there, I know what it is. And yet I hide it. I deny it. I ignore it. I wish it wasn't there. But wait, I put it there. Oh yes, I put it there. I doubt I will remove it from...there. That's where it belongs. That's where it has always belonged. So what do I do with it now? Leave it there obviously. Oh, and run as far away as I can. So when the doors are finally opened and people begin to parade on through. I will be long gone. They'll never know it was me who put it there, who hid it there, who left it there. They'll never know cause I'll be gone with no trace back there. Maybe it will fade. Maybe it will just disappear, hopefully into thin air. Doubtful, but it's always a hope. Eventually those open doors will shine light into that dark and dusty room. And that thing, will it be there? Who knows.

I knew this day would come, just not this soon.

My own DEMISE.

"Thats why I pushed for it." -Lana

God, for the very same reason I shoved an idea away. "Lana" pushed for it. Really? God, what do I do now? I know she's probably right but being my stubborn self I will never admit it to her face. I hate admitting I'm wrong. I had admitting anything actually. All I do is dance around the problem, hoping that eventually it will fade. But that's just it. It DOESN'T. So then I'm left here staring at myself, wondering how in the world I even got here to begin with. I'm left with a choice, a choice I'd rather hand off to someone else--but at the same time I don't want anyone else to make that same choice 'cause I know they'll pick the one I'm convincing myself I don't want.

Why is she so different? Why do I care what she thinks of me? Why do I care so much? I feel all exposed. But why? I didn't feel this way before. Maybe that's cause the other two are family..or like family. But her, i just don't know. Maybe I'm afraid I'll lose her as a friend. Maybe I'm afraid she'll judge me and then ditch. So many others have done in the past. What would make her any different? That's it. It has to be it. My stupid, pathetic, childish fear of mine has come back to haunt me once again. Like always.

That word, it just looms ahead of me, predicting my pending future. ABANDONED! It just sits there, patiently awaiting the day I draw closer. It smiles and shows me how everyone will leave me. How some day I'll be all alone again. How in my attempt to forget the past, in my attempt to forget the abandonment I'll bring it all right back. I'll be my own demise. It knows this, and taunts me with it day and night. Looming, forever looming on the horizon of my future. I can't escape it. Sooner or later I will have to face it. But that's just it. I'd rather die than face it. Is there anyway around it? The answer...no. Confrontation. Oh god how I despise it. Every shape and form of it brings pain and fear. "there is one way..." a voice whispers to me. "harden your heart, never love again, never let anyone in...then you'll never know abandonment" That is an option, sadly it is. But wait, wouldn't that be doing exactly that. Abandoning myself from others to the point where I feel abandoned? Didn't I just establish the fact that I'd be my own demise? God, what has become of me?

Failed. Twice.

I failed...again. Once again I gave in, once again I grasped that pencil and dug into the soft flesh on my hands. But this time it was worse. This time it was so much worse. This time...it was two. Two terribly visible pink lines with red skin around them reside on my already scarred hand. Really Molly? Really? More? God what were you thinking?

That's the problem. Who knows what I was thinking. I sure don't. Okay. That's a lie I know exactly what I was thinking, but I'm terrified to put it into words. I'm terrified to put it on here for fear that both of "them" see it. One, Lana, would simply lecture me and tell me to call her next time. That was kind of IMPOSSIBLE this last time as she wasn't even around. The other, well she would be saddened if she knew the truth.

Well since I'm already exposed I might as well go ahead with it. Below are the text messages I sent my email shortly afterward.
--2 other people were in the room. And did not notice. You are just invisible. Or are they too polite to interrupt you?
-- Forgot that it burns shortly afterward...it just like stings
--God molly. Another? Really? What is your excuse this time? Oh wait you do not have one do you? Did not think so! God you have problems!!! (after the 2nd one)
-- You ruin everything. You always do. It was ok until you came around. God molly get a life and stop destroying others happiness
-- God i have problems. Really molly? More scars? How will you explain this one? You do not even have a legit reason this time. FAILURE (right after 1st)
--Timeline of Scars: Scratched---no DUG into my hand with a mechanical pencil leaving behind 5-7 small scars......Correction--I've added another one...(31-3-10) 3 more attempts, one real one (9-4-10), two real ones (12-4-10), one accidental (15-4-10) roughly 20 itty bity things that were only skin peeling, no real damage done (15-5-10) 3 more attempts, one smaller one that actually lasted (6-6-10) Another (19.6.10) Another Deeper (15.7.10) I lied, its 2 not 1 (15.7.10)


Why did I do this? Well, let's see. I felt worthless. Invisible. Alone. Depressed. I felt like Running Away. I felt like a waste of life....need I say more?

Keep it to yourself

What am I doing? What the frick am I doing? How can I sit here every single stupid day and pretend that everything's going to be okay? How can I pretend that I've got all the time in the world to decide what to do? How can I? Especially since its not true, I've got hardly anytime to decide and its beginning to get to me. I can honestly say, I know what stress is. I know what it feels like to wonder where your life is going. To truly be lost, confused, alone. I know what that's like. And I know how terribly hard it is to overcome it. To pull yourself from the hole you've attempted to bury yourself in. I know what its like to pull yourself up, grasping at the slippery walls. The excitement you feel as you begin to rise, only to slip and fall back, breaking through the floor and falling even farther than you did before. I don't just talk about it, I know. But how many other people can say that? How many of them know what its like to truly be hopeless. To feel like nothing you do can ever save you, like you are a lost case? How many people know that feeling? Definitely not as many that offer advice for it. Too many people offer advice, sympathy when they have no idea what its like, how hard it is, how mentally exhausting it is. Yet they continued to pretend they do. They are a bigger fake than me. They are bigger liars than me, they don't know. They haven't the slightest idea. Granted I've never been locked up in a prison, threatened, tortured, alone in the wilderness, persecuted, I've never had any of those. But I'm also not implying that I have. I don't offer advice to people who have, cause I don't know what its like. How do I know that what I say will help in anyway? That's exactly it. I don't know.

If only other people would realize this. People like me, we don't want help nor advice from others who have no idea what they are talking about. We don't want their sympathy. We just want someone to listen, but just cause we talk to you doesn't mean we want all your stupid judgment, advice, and other crap. Only reason we talk to you is so you can listen. It's that simple. When you start shoving other crap on us, about how to do things (that you have no knowledge of) that's when you push us away. That's when we tune out your talk, when we ignore you, when we turn off. Most people don't know this, its typically only those that have gone through these "trials". But sometimes, even those people don't know when to shut up. When to just listen. Sometimes, they can't tell when a person's turned off. Instead they keep pushing, with good intentions I'm sure, hoping to break through. But really...when they keep pushing, it pushes us farther away. It builds up more walls, more barriers that they'll have to tear down another day. We'll come around eventually, if its something worth coming around to.

I didn't know what stress felt like. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to not know what you're doing with your life, where you're going. Now I do.

I didn't know what depression was. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to be ignored. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to be abandoned. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to cry yourself to sleep each night. Now I do.

I didn't know how pain affected my life. Now I do.

I didn't know how easy it was to scar yourself. Now I do.

I always knew people loved me. Now I don't.

I always had someone to go to. Now I don't.

I always thought I had plenty of time to decide. Now I don't.

I always thought I knew what I wanted. Now I don't.

I always thought everything would just fall into place. But it's not.

I always thought I'd get along just fine. But I'm not.

I never thought I'd fall that low. But I have.

I never thought I'd get that close to it. But now I am.

I never thought I'd give up on others. But I have.

I never thought I'd ignore the worried looks, talks, emails, chats. But I have.

I never thought I'd be the one to cause others pain, fear, and worry. But I have.

I never thought I'd look down and see scars. But I do.

I never thought that those very same scars would be my own doing. But they are.

I never thought I'd doubt everything about life. But I do.

I never thought I'd have be the one to argue with my mother. But I do.

I never thought I'd have arguments over text, chat with "her". But I do.

I never thought I'd contemplate running away. But I have.

I never thought I'd forgive my father. And I haven't.

I never thought I'd forgive my grandparents. And I haven't.

I never thought I'd forgive J. And I haven't.

I never thought I'd forgive myself. And I haven't.



I never thought I'd write this, nor post it. But I just did.

Maybe that's why

I'm wandering, back and forth across this line. I don't know. I don't know what I think, feel, believe. I don't know if God's just a myth. A fairytale, a story someone made up one day when they were bored. I don't know if its just a cult and the people in it are blind. I don't know. I have no proof. People tell me to pray, to ask God. But how can I do that when I'm doubting if he's even real? They tell me there's proof all around us. That this world is proof enough. For all I know it could have been here forever. I doubt there was a BANG and it was here. For all I know everything was always here. How do we know there was a beginning? How do we know it wasn't just here forever, perhaps people just didn't document it. Perhaps their bones have disappeared. But lets not get into that whole thing. I don't care about creation nor evolution. The bigger problem is sitting here before me. What do I believe? What do I do?

I need proof. I need someone to come along and PROVE to me that God is real, but in order to actually break through all these mental barriers I've placed the person is not allowed to use Jesus (for all I know he could be made up), they can't use creation, the bible (how do we know some random person didn't just write it), they can't use "prayer" (how do I know its not just chance that things "come true"?) and they can't (obviously) just say its obvious, "duh there HAS to be a greater power, a god" cause obviously that's not enough for me.

I feel as if my entire life has been a lie. One giant lie. I feel as if I'm a lie. My whole life is a lie. Like I've been living this life that isn't mine, and was never intended to be mine. I feel as if I've got no purpose and that I might as well live this life for myself. I should stop trying to please people (both family and god)cause how do I know it even matters? I should pursue my own interests, and live my life as ethically as I can. Morals. That's another argument I've heard. "how do they know what's right and whats wrong?" well lets see. does it harm someone else? then its wrong. does it break the laws (that were created so that we wouldn't harm someone else)then its wrong. and i'm not just talking about physical harm but mental, emotional harm. That's how I know what's right and wrong. I used to believe that right and wrong were dictated by God. But how do I know? Like I said before, how do I know he's even out there.

Maybe its all this confusion that makes me doubt myself. Maybe its all this that makes me wonder how I'm ever going to fit into this world. Maybe its all the lies that makes me feel as if I've got no potential, purpose, future. Maybe that's why I keep finding myself staring at blank pages wondering where my life is going. Maybe that's why my relationship with my mom has gone down the drain. Maybe that's why I can't stand to be in the same room with her. Maybe that's why I can't stand the words "god" "bible" "pray/er" "worship" "jesus" "christ" "father" (am I missing any...?) Maybe that's why.