Daddy problems. Or Lack of "Daddy", problems. This last weekend I went up north to my cousin's wedding, she danced with her "daddy", walked down the aisle with her "daddy", had her "daddy" speak to everyone, and they even had a "daddy & daughter" dance where all the dads went out and danced with their little girls.
I had to fight back the tears and hide my face behind my baby cousin so my Mom wouldn't see.
Today, they talked about Dads in class, and about how little girls just want them to be there to hold them, tell them everything is going to be okay, and to ask who they need to go beat up.
Once again I had to fight back tears from my classmates as all those emotions from the previous two days flooded through me. Immediately after class I hoped in my car and drove. I drove for a solid 2 hours, out into the wilderness, exploring the the edges of the roads, following paths until the three lane black top road turned to a one way gravel trail. Some 2 hours later I finally returned, bleary eyed, tired, feeling down, lonely, abandoned, overwhelmed, and slightly depressed.
I spent the day laying on the couch watching Disney movies, mopping around the apartment and trying to be happy. I munched on comfort foods, all with way too many calories and lounged around some more. At some point Carter showed up and made me food, and we watched a movie. Toy Story. One I had watched only a few hours earlier.
I didn't want to talk to anyone, I didn't want to listen to anyone. I didn't want to be with anyone. I didn't want to even talk to God about it, knowing full well what he'd say to me. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted my family. My real family. I wanted my brothers to hug me and tell me I'd be okay. I wanted my Dad to love me. I wanted my Grandfathers to be alive and to actually care about me.
It's hard, having no father figure in your life. Not even a Grandfather. Nor an older brother around to comfort you and hug you and ask who they need to go beat up.
Sigh, where have all the men disappeared to? Why are there none in my life? No Fathers. No Brothers. No Grandfathers. None.
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Monday, November 21, 2011
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Ineffable! (#2)
The scars kind of took me off track a little in the last post. So I might as well finish the thought.
After escaping that bout with depression and another "low" point, I was trying to picture myself in the future. What type of job? Where would I be? So I sat on my bed staring at the wall to eliminate distractions and closed my eyes. The room was silent, I was alone. A perfect place to meet with God. I thought about it, asked God to show me, to enlighten me and he did. I always did have problems envisioning myself in a cubicle, office, classroom, store, at home. I just couldn't get the image I was longing for. So when God did give me a vision, it didn't take me by surprise that I wasn't in any of those places. No, you didn't read that wrong. It's true. I wasn't in any office, classroom, cubicle, store, etc. No. I was in some rural village (Africa maybe?), a small shack behind me (or a hut), the ground was dusty and pure dirt not a single blade of grass lay beneath my feet. Children clustered about me, anxiously awaiting their turns for I wasn't simply standing there. I was spinning in circles, twirling young children around as we both smiled and laughed. My hair was flying around loosely behind me and I seemed not to care. I wore a long skirt which should have bothered me in the hot sun, but it didn't. I didn't care. I was HAPPY. Key word there, HAPPY!
After that it didn't take me long to figure out my calling in life. A mere second to be exact.
Missions.
I had always loved the idea of being a missionary. The stories thrilled me, the adventure excited me. It seemed like the ultimate, extreme, adventure for Christ. Even as a young girl the idea was always exciting. But the one time I asked my Mom what she would think if I became one, her grin disappeared and she looked at me solemnly. "That's a hard life. It's not easy. You'd be far, FAR, from home." I told her I knew it'd be hard but she merely repeated her words. "It's not easy. You'd be far, far from home." So I ditched the idea as my own were much more appealing. My teenage thoughts of running off to Alaska sounded much better than traveling thousands of miles, living far from family, living on little to nothing, facing danger every day. Nah, Alaska was much better. Heck even Colorado or Australia would be better. Or so I though.
Even though I had just had an encounter with God about my calling, I still wasn't sure. I still had too much to deal with in my own life. Things I wasn't ready to deal with and didn't' ever want to deal with. I often wrote that my pain, my anger, my hatred, defined me as a person. That without it I wouldn't be me anymore. I was wrong. It was because I had those that I wasn't who God had made me to be. They were preventing me from being me. They had polluted the real me and changed me into something totally different. It took me a long time to realize it. But wait, that's not for now. That comes a little later. I've got to continue where I left off.
That encounter got me thinking, got change starting. When my Mom talked about all the new exciting things she was learning, I listened. I listened and absorbed it all. I didn't like it. I hated it. But I listened anyway. I still resented her, still disliked her, still felt anger towards her and several others. But slowly, ever so slowly, God was breaking down the walls around my heart. Things were in motion that I could never undo. I just didn't realize it at the time.
Till next time
After escaping that bout with depression and another "low" point, I was trying to picture myself in the future. What type of job? Where would I be? So I sat on my bed staring at the wall to eliminate distractions and closed my eyes. The room was silent, I was alone. A perfect place to meet with God. I thought about it, asked God to show me, to enlighten me and he did. I always did have problems envisioning myself in a cubicle, office, classroom, store, at home. I just couldn't get the image I was longing for. So when God did give me a vision, it didn't take me by surprise that I wasn't in any of those places. No, you didn't read that wrong. It's true. I wasn't in any office, classroom, cubicle, store, etc. No. I was in some rural village (Africa maybe?), a small shack behind me (or a hut), the ground was dusty and pure dirt not a single blade of grass lay beneath my feet. Children clustered about me, anxiously awaiting their turns for I wasn't simply standing there. I was spinning in circles, twirling young children around as we both smiled and laughed. My hair was flying around loosely behind me and I seemed not to care. I wore a long skirt which should have bothered me in the hot sun, but it didn't. I didn't care. I was HAPPY. Key word there, HAPPY!
After that it didn't take me long to figure out my calling in life. A mere second to be exact.
Missions.
I had always loved the idea of being a missionary. The stories thrilled me, the adventure excited me. It seemed like the ultimate, extreme, adventure for Christ. Even as a young girl the idea was always exciting. But the one time I asked my Mom what she would think if I became one, her grin disappeared and she looked at me solemnly. "That's a hard life. It's not easy. You'd be far, FAR, from home." I told her I knew it'd be hard but she merely repeated her words. "It's not easy. You'd be far, far from home." So I ditched the idea as my own were much more appealing. My teenage thoughts of running off to Alaska sounded much better than traveling thousands of miles, living far from family, living on little to nothing, facing danger every day. Nah, Alaska was much better. Heck even Colorado or Australia would be better. Or so I though.
Even though I had just had an encounter with God about my calling, I still wasn't sure. I still had too much to deal with in my own life. Things I wasn't ready to deal with and didn't' ever want to deal with. I often wrote that my pain, my anger, my hatred, defined me as a person. That without it I wouldn't be me anymore. I was wrong. It was because I had those that I wasn't who God had made me to be. They were preventing me from being me. They had polluted the real me and changed me into something totally different. It took me a long time to realize it. But wait, that's not for now. That comes a little later. I've got to continue where I left off.
That encounter got me thinking, got change starting. When my Mom talked about all the new exciting things she was learning, I listened. I listened and absorbed it all. I didn't like it. I hated it. But I listened anyway. I still resented her, still disliked her, still felt anger towards her and several others. But slowly, ever so slowly, God was breaking down the walls around my heart. Things were in motion that I could never undo. I just didn't realize it at the time.
Till next time
Monday, December 6, 2010
Ineffable! (#1)
OMG!
1. I can't believe I just wrote that.
2. That's exactly how I feel! :) I feel like screaming and jumping for joy! I'm so pumped it's crazy! I can't wait to get out in the world!
Okay, maybe I should backtrack a little. Maybe I should start at the beginning. Maybe I should make this a little series so that it doesn't take up fifty billion pages. :)
Now. Where to begin? The beginning sounds like a decent place. :) (Jeesh, calm down! Enough with the smiley faces. Breathe. Breathe. There, much better) So, the past few years have been a pretty rough time for me. Spiritually, Emotionally, and Physically. This blog is evidence enough. :| Well I've got some great news for you, THINGS ARE CHANGING! Well duh. I already mentioned that, didn't I? Oh Well. Doesn't matter, I'm about to now! :) (GAH! I said enough!...Sorry...will try not to smile...)
A few months ago I was pretty frustrated with this little thing called "High School Graduation". I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, where I was going and often felt completely alone in the world. I played with several ideas, ranging from go to a Christian Internship to run away to Alaska and hide out there. (As if the wilderness could hide me from God!) I felt so lost and alone and didn't feel like I had anyone to turn to. My friends were all either busy with their own lives or struggling through their own problems. None of them would need my problems to add to their own burdens. So I bottled it up and left it on the back shelf of my heart. As I did everything I didn't want to deal with. Then back in August I reached a low point. I was sitting in my room, Senior Year was about to start and I was freaking out as I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. Finally, I called out to God. But I felt like I wasn't getting enough, like I had too many distractions so I went outside, took my Zune with me, played some music and started talking to God out loud. I hadn't even gone very far when the song "I'm Counting on God" by the Desperation Band began to play. It wasn't even on my playlist. :) I started laughing saying "Okay God. I get the picture! Okay God! I've got it!" I put aside all my worries about the future, things I shouldn't have even been worrying about in the first place and simply gave it all to God. That was the first thing I have ever truly given to God. My Future.
I continued on the next few weeks, worry creeping back every now and then but something within me always knew that it'd be okay. Then one day I sat down on my bed and began to think. I had just barely survived another low point of mine. Escaping with a few new scars, sadly self inflicted ones. Below are a few pictures I took over the past few months. It really began over a year ago, but this past year was the worst for it. Sadly I do not have an updated picture but the row of "lines" across my hand now spans the entire length of the back of my hand. The bottom picture was one of the first pictures I took. Shortly after I first began my experiments with pencils. The middle one is the latest one I have to show you, but it was taken several months ago. Probably back in July. The first one was taken in mid May. However the one that matters the most is the middle one. The one that shows the best what it's like. As that one shows not only two very recent ones but several other ones that were in the works of becoming true scars. Many have faded, but are still quite visible in good light and when compared with my right hand. :| The line that appears to stretch across the back of my hand in the 2nd one really only goes about half way. It's just the angle the picture was taken at. Now, as I sit here typing, the line stops just shy of an inch from the far side of my hand.
Sigh. I think this is a decent place to stop for now. This post is already long enough but really, I'm just beginning. Pictures of my depressed self's "actions" are not really the most memorable things to look at. Although I am glad I took them. Other than the scars on my hand, they give me a great reminder at how far I sunk.
1. I can't believe I just wrote that.
2. That's exactly how I feel! :) I feel like screaming and jumping for joy! I'm so pumped it's crazy! I can't wait to get out in the world!
Okay, maybe I should backtrack a little. Maybe I should start at the beginning. Maybe I should make this a little series so that it doesn't take up fifty billion pages. :)
Now. Where to begin? The beginning sounds like a decent place. :) (Jeesh, calm down! Enough with the smiley faces. Breathe. Breathe. There, much better) So, the past few years have been a pretty rough time for me. Spiritually, Emotionally, and Physically. This blog is evidence enough. :| Well I've got some great news for you, THINGS ARE CHANGING! Well duh. I already mentioned that, didn't I? Oh Well. Doesn't matter, I'm about to now! :) (GAH! I said enough!...Sorry...will try not to smile...)
A few months ago I was pretty frustrated with this little thing called "High School Graduation". I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, where I was going and often felt completely alone in the world. I played with several ideas, ranging from go to a Christian Internship to run away to Alaska and hide out there. (As if the wilderness could hide me from God!) I felt so lost and alone and didn't feel like I had anyone to turn to. My friends were all either busy with their own lives or struggling through their own problems. None of them would need my problems to add to their own burdens. So I bottled it up and left it on the back shelf of my heart. As I did everything I didn't want to deal with. Then back in August I reached a low point. I was sitting in my room, Senior Year was about to start and I was freaking out as I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. Finally, I called out to God. But I felt like I wasn't getting enough, like I had too many distractions so I went outside, took my Zune with me, played some music and started talking to God out loud. I hadn't even gone very far when the song "I'm Counting on God" by the Desperation Band began to play. It wasn't even on my playlist. :) I started laughing saying "Okay God. I get the picture! Okay God! I've got it!" I put aside all my worries about the future, things I shouldn't have even been worrying about in the first place and simply gave it all to God. That was the first thing I have ever truly given to God. My Future.
I continued on the next few weeks, worry creeping back every now and then but something within me always knew that it'd be okay. Then one day I sat down on my bed and began to think. I had just barely survived another low point of mine. Escaping with a few new scars, sadly self inflicted ones. Below are a few pictures I took over the past few months. It really began over a year ago, but this past year was the worst for it. Sadly I do not have an updated picture but the row of "lines" across my hand now spans the entire length of the back of my hand. The bottom picture was one of the first pictures I took. Shortly after I first began my experiments with pencils. The middle one is the latest one I have to show you, but it was taken several months ago. Probably back in July. The first one was taken in mid May. However the one that matters the most is the middle one. The one that shows the best what it's like. As that one shows not only two very recent ones but several other ones that were in the works of becoming true scars. Many have faded, but are still quite visible in good light and when compared with my right hand. :| The line that appears to stretch across the back of my hand in the 2nd one really only goes about half way. It's just the angle the picture was taken at. Now, as I sit here typing, the line stops just shy of an inch from the far side of my hand.
Sigh. I think this is a decent place to stop for now. This post is already long enough but really, I'm just beginning. Pictures of my depressed self's "actions" are not really the most memorable things to look at. Although I am glad I took them. Other than the scars on my hand, they give me a great reminder at how far I sunk.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Why did he have to come back?
It would have been easier had he stayed away, now I’m forced to remember all those painful memories. And worse yet, left alone to deal with them. They don’t see it. They can’t. They are too busy with their own screwed up lives to notice the one that’s ever so slowly slipping down the drain. If only they’d open their eyes, care enough to find out if what I’m telling them is actually true. If only they’d ask “How are you REALLY?” Then maybe they’d learn, maybe they’d care. Maybe I wouldn’t be left sitting here.
All the things I long to tell him, I can't. I've been forbidden from it. The things that kill me to have to hide, to keep secret, to keep hidden....are the things I'd long to tell him. But I can't.
She's stolen my best friend from me. The only one who ever truly understood me. Who cared. Now he's gone. Maybe not physically (though he will be soon) but emotionally. That connection we once had is gone. All because of her. And she wonders why I despise her. Why I argue with her. Why I count down the days till I'm free of HER. Yet for some odd reason people continue to think that it will all just disappear once I'm out of the house. It wont. We are incapable of getting along. I know that. She knows that. Yet she pretends that she doesn't. She pretends that I'm the daughter she always wanted, the one she dreamed of before I was born. She pretends that I'm the perfect child who does everything the way it should be. She imagines me as the little stay at home mom who does all these girly things...that's not me. I'm not the daughter she wanted. No, that task fell to my sister in law. The perfect daughter. The one she always dreamed of.
Its common knowledge that the middle child is always left hanging. The oldest does everything first. When they graduate its a first. When they turn 18 its a first. When they start driving its a first. Same with the youngest. When they start driving its a last, therefore much more emotional cause that means the children are growing up. When they graduate HS its another last, therefore another emotional event. But us middle children? Nothing we do is ever important, ever emotional. Why, cause its already been done and will be done again.
Josh this. Josh that. Josh this. Josh that. That's all I've heard these past 2 years. COME ON! Yes, he was a senior. yes it was his last year at home. BUT REALLY?!. "Ah, my baby boy is graduating HS!" Ah, he needs a graduation party. He's joining the military! He's got a girlfriend! He needs a going way party! Don't tell him anything bad, don't make him worry! He doesn't need that! Ah he's engaged! Ah he's graduating from Basic Training. HES MARRIED! I've got a married son! Don't worry him, he doesn't need that. I WANT TO SEE MY SON TOO! Spring Break Yeah I get to see my son again! (H E DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS! WHY ON EARTH DID I EVER AGREE TO GO ON A VACATION WITH HER!?) My boy's coming home! YEAH! Ah..he's leaving. I'm going to go cry for the billionth time.
I know that people in the military need support, they don't need to be worried. But seriously...does everything have to be about him all the freaking time! What about me? This is my year isn't it? I'm leaving home in less than 336 days...shouldn't it be "Me" sometimes? Nope. Instead it goes like this through her head every freaking second of the day. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Moll--no wait..change my mind--Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. "I feel like I'm forgetting someone...nevermind" Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. "Oh YEAH! Molly. She can wait." Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Molly. Repeat.
Gah. I was fine, until he came home. Now I have to deal with all this crap once again. I had managed to forget it. Or at least shove the thoughts away so I didn't have to think about them. I can't now. I'm forced to confront them once again...just cause he's back and now I have daily reminders of all this crap. God, this isn't even all of it. But I can't keep typing...I dont want Jake to see my crying.
All the things I long to tell him, I can't. I've been forbidden from it. The things that kill me to have to hide, to keep secret, to keep hidden....are the things I'd long to tell him. But I can't.
She's stolen my best friend from me. The only one who ever truly understood me. Who cared. Now he's gone. Maybe not physically (though he will be soon) but emotionally. That connection we once had is gone. All because of her. And she wonders why I despise her. Why I argue with her. Why I count down the days till I'm free of HER. Yet for some odd reason people continue to think that it will all just disappear once I'm out of the house. It wont. We are incapable of getting along. I know that. She knows that. Yet she pretends that she doesn't. She pretends that I'm the daughter she always wanted, the one she dreamed of before I was born. She pretends that I'm the perfect child who does everything the way it should be. She imagines me as the little stay at home mom who does all these girly things...that's not me. I'm not the daughter she wanted. No, that task fell to my sister in law. The perfect daughter. The one she always dreamed of.
Its common knowledge that the middle child is always left hanging. The oldest does everything first. When they graduate its a first. When they turn 18 its a first. When they start driving its a first. Same with the youngest. When they start driving its a last, therefore much more emotional cause that means the children are growing up. When they graduate HS its another last, therefore another emotional event. But us middle children? Nothing we do is ever important, ever emotional. Why, cause its already been done and will be done again.
Josh this. Josh that. Josh this. Josh that. That's all I've heard these past 2 years. COME ON! Yes, he was a senior. yes it was his last year at home. BUT REALLY?!. "Ah, my baby boy is graduating HS!" Ah, he needs a graduation party. He's joining the military! He's got a girlfriend! He needs a going way party! Don't tell him anything bad, don't make him worry! He doesn't need that! Ah he's engaged! Ah he's graduating from Basic Training. HES MARRIED! I've got a married son! Don't worry him, he doesn't need that. I WANT TO SEE MY SON TOO! Spring Break Yeah I get to see my son again! (H E DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS! WHY ON EARTH DID I EVER AGREE TO GO ON A VACATION WITH HER!?) My boy's coming home! YEAH! Ah..he's leaving. I'm going to go cry for the billionth time.
I know that people in the military need support, they don't need to be worried. But seriously...does everything have to be about him all the freaking time! What about me? This is my year isn't it? I'm leaving home in less than 336 days...shouldn't it be "Me" sometimes? Nope. Instead it goes like this through her head every freaking second of the day. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Moll--no wait..change my mind--Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. "I feel like I'm forgetting someone...nevermind" Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. "Oh YEAH! Molly. She can wait." Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Luke. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Molly. Repeat.
Gah. I was fine, until he came home. Now I have to deal with all this crap once again. I had managed to forget it. Or at least shove the thoughts away so I didn't have to think about them. I can't now. I'm forced to confront them once again...just cause he's back and now I have daily reminders of all this crap. God, this isn't even all of it. But I can't keep typing...I dont want Jake to see my crying.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
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?
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?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Mother
You have no idea how long I've plotted my escape. How I beg God to make time fly faster, till the day I can finally flee this life. I'm sorry, I'm just not the daughter you always thought I'd be. All I am is me. That's all I'll ever be. I can't be the picture perfect, darling little princess you imagined. I'm not her. I never was. Why can't you just accept me the way I am? Please, I'm begging you. If only you could see past this mask, this costume...that's hiding the real me. I'm here! I SWEAR! I'm still HERE!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Failure
I failed. I can't believe I failed. Once again, I've sunken back into the pit of despair. The pit of depression. And once again I'm struggling to climb out.
I recently realized that the "scars" on my hands were formed while I was sitting in the very bottom of my pit. As soon as I hit rock bottom, the "scars" began to "form". I recently realized how strong the emotions: the pain, hate, anger, frustration, worthlessness feelings really were. If you haven't guess already, I've recently been there.
I thought I was doing good. I was on the climb upwards again, and we all know how hard that is. Simply standing up, reaching, and believing that we CAN climb out is the first--seemingly impossible--step. Well I took that step and good a little ways up. But it seems like with every 6 inches I climb I fall back 5. However, recently, I fell back more than 5. I fell back down to the bottom. To the pit which I had struggled so hard to get out of. And I found myself back at rock bottom. And I couldn't take it. I just couldn't take it. And...I gave in. I gave in to the pain...the emotions and...I...I "received" another "scar". I didn't mean to, and I regret it. But...I have one. And I can't take it back now. Its there, and its there to stay. I really wish it wasn't, but alas, it is.
And here I remain. Feeling like a failure, like I've let down the entire world. When in reality only 2 people even know of it. So how have I failed the world when really...I've only failed to keep a promise to...what, two people? One of them being me. So is it really that big of a deal? To me, YES! I'm trying. I really am trying to escape this pit. But its hard, or so hard! I want to get better, not just for me but for my friends and family. I've promised them all (some literally, and others in my mind) that I would try. That I would do better, that I wouldn't give in again. But here I am, giving in. Here I am, a failure to all. Yet none of them know. If only they knew, then they' see how terribly I've failed them once again.
I recently realized that the "scars" on my hands were formed while I was sitting in the very bottom of my pit. As soon as I hit rock bottom, the "scars" began to "form". I recently realized how strong the emotions: the pain, hate, anger, frustration, worthlessness feelings really were. If you haven't guess already, I've recently been there.
I thought I was doing good. I was on the climb upwards again, and we all know how hard that is. Simply standing up, reaching, and believing that we CAN climb out is the first--seemingly impossible--step. Well I took that step and good a little ways up. But it seems like with every 6 inches I climb I fall back 5. However, recently, I fell back more than 5. I fell back down to the bottom. To the pit which I had struggled so hard to get out of. And I found myself back at rock bottom. And I couldn't take it. I just couldn't take it. And...I gave in. I gave in to the pain...the emotions and...I...I "received" another "scar". I didn't mean to, and I regret it. But...I have one. And I can't take it back now. Its there, and its there to stay. I really wish it wasn't, but alas, it is.
And here I remain. Feeling like a failure, like I've let down the entire world. When in reality only 2 people even know of it. So how have I failed the world when really...I've only failed to keep a promise to...what, two people? One of them being me. So is it really that big of a deal? To me, YES! I'm trying. I really am trying to escape this pit. But its hard, or so hard! I want to get better, not just for me but for my friends and family. I've promised them all (some literally, and others in my mind) that I would try. That I would do better, that I wouldn't give in again. But here I am, giving in. Here I am, a failure to all. Yet none of them know. If only they knew, then they' see how terribly I've failed them once again.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Fresh Start
It's about time I know, 3+ years is quite a while. But those 3+ years happened for a reason. I know that, I always knew that. But for some reason I just couldn't quite believe it. I've sat here for days, weeks, months wondering when it would finally happen. And now it has.
Seems like it was overnight, but I know that it wasn't. I can't really pin point the end. Just as I can't pin point the start. It sort of just happened. I woke up one day, and things were a little bit different. Two weeks later, things were greatly different. How this happened, I still don't know. All I know is that it has...and that I'm enjoying it. It's like the tables were switched around and now, I suddenly hold the power again. My life is in my control once more, but it wasn't so long ago that it wasn't. All someone has to do is look at this blog and they'll know that. I think my "rock bottom" moment was sometime in the past few months. And everyone knows that once you hit rock bottom, you start to climb up again..its no longer a continual drop. Now, I'm climbing up. I'm back on my way to the top and I can't wait to see the view.
Things are different, so very different. Except, there remains one thing that I cannot do. Literally cannot. Prayer. I just...cant do it. When other people pray I can't wait until their done. And when I pray, I feel like I'm only doing it to "act" like a good Christian. Like I'm not doing it for the right reasons. Also, when I pray, its like this super long, drawn out ordeal...even though I hardly say a word. Half the time when I pray, I fall asleep before anything "real" even happens. But hey, I'm not complaining. I mean, I have to take it one step at a time right? I can't just expect that everything will fall right into place. And I'll be the perfect Christian, cause that's not happening. I have to rebuild my relationship with God, with myself, with everyone. I have to start over, I've let down so many. I've lied to who knows how many. Its time for me to start over....but this time. I'm getting a fresh start. Another chance, a chance to do it right this time.
I've read the bible lately, almost every night for the entire month of January. I admit I do miss some days, but doesn't everyone when they first start out again? Like I said before, I can't expect the best right away. the fact that I'm TRYING to at least do this thing...makes me happy. It tells me that a part of me does still care, that somewhere I am actively fighting this "thing" that has had control over me for so long. The fact that I'm reading the bible has to say something...compared to when I would avoid it entirely. Something has changed, that much is certain. But I still don't know what exactly.
However, the timing couldn't be more perfect. Everything's falling into place for me right now. But then again, God's timing is always perfect, so of course its falling into place. I WANT to talk about this thing...but I can't. I refuse to get my hopes up about something that I'm not even sure will happen yet. It can't be a coincidence though....it can't....right?! UGH! I sure hope its not just my BRAIN thinking that it is. But either way, I'm happy! Happy! It feels weird to say that I'm happy. I'm like NEVER happy...so why am I happy?? I don't even know!! I just am. I know this journey isn't going to be easy, it never is. And I have a feeling that I'll probably slip back down the slope once more, but as long as I keep trying I will reach the top again. I will.
Seems like it was overnight, but I know that it wasn't. I can't really pin point the end. Just as I can't pin point the start. It sort of just happened. I woke up one day, and things were a little bit different. Two weeks later, things were greatly different. How this happened, I still don't know. All I know is that it has...and that I'm enjoying it. It's like the tables were switched around and now, I suddenly hold the power again. My life is in my control once more, but it wasn't so long ago that it wasn't. All someone has to do is look at this blog and they'll know that. I think my "rock bottom" moment was sometime in the past few months. And everyone knows that once you hit rock bottom, you start to climb up again..its no longer a continual drop. Now, I'm climbing up. I'm back on my way to the top and I can't wait to see the view.
Things are different, so very different. Except, there remains one thing that I cannot do. Literally cannot. Prayer. I just...cant do it. When other people pray I can't wait until their done. And when I pray, I feel like I'm only doing it to "act" like a good Christian. Like I'm not doing it for the right reasons. Also, when I pray, its like this super long, drawn out ordeal...even though I hardly say a word. Half the time when I pray, I fall asleep before anything "real" even happens. But hey, I'm not complaining. I mean, I have to take it one step at a time right? I can't just expect that everything will fall right into place. And I'll be the perfect Christian, cause that's not happening. I have to rebuild my relationship with God, with myself, with everyone. I have to start over, I've let down so many. I've lied to who knows how many. Its time for me to start over....but this time. I'm getting a fresh start. Another chance, a chance to do it right this time.
I've read the bible lately, almost every night for the entire month of January. I admit I do miss some days, but doesn't everyone when they first start out again? Like I said before, I can't expect the best right away. the fact that I'm TRYING to at least do this thing...makes me happy. It tells me that a part of me does still care, that somewhere I am actively fighting this "thing" that has had control over me for so long. The fact that I'm reading the bible has to say something...compared to when I would avoid it entirely. Something has changed, that much is certain. But I still don't know what exactly.
However, the timing couldn't be more perfect. Everything's falling into place for me right now. But then again, God's timing is always perfect, so of course its falling into place. I WANT to talk about this thing...but I can't. I refuse to get my hopes up about something that I'm not even sure will happen yet. It can't be a coincidence though....it can't....right?! UGH! I sure hope its not just my BRAIN thinking that it is. But either way, I'm happy! Happy! It feels weird to say that I'm happy. I'm like NEVER happy...so why am I happy?? I don't even know!! I just am. I know this journey isn't going to be easy, it never is. And I have a feeling that I'll probably slip back down the slope once more, but as long as I keep trying I will reach the top again. I will.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Free Will+Confusion=Free Pain?
A new year. Another year. Why do we have to acknowledge this new year? Why can't we just get rid of our dating system and simply have it all blend into one? Why do we NEED to know how old something is? Does it really matter what day it is? What year it is? How old something is? Does it?
Does it matter that I've been "depressed" for x amount of years now? Does it? Let's see. How far back did it start? Well. 2006. That should be a good starting place. Hm...no. I think I was already depressed then. What about 2005. So I was what...12? What happened that year? That was a rough year for me, but it was better than 2006. So let's say that it was a slow and steady decline beginning somewhere between 2005-2006. That's...how many years? Does it even matter? To some it probably does. But not to me. Nothing really matters anymore. My life is pretty much pointless. At least it seems that way.
So what IS the reason I'm here? Since I'm a FAILURE of a Christian. Then why am I here? I can't really further God's kingdom when I'm fighting against it myself...now can I? According to some people, God has plans for all of us. But I don't really believe that. Cause if he did, then why am I so lost. Why am I so confused? Why isn't anything ever working out? Why do I hate my life so much? If he does then why isn't he doing anything to try and stop me from screwing up my life? From destroying the only thing he gave me. Life.
Does he even care what I do with it? After all it is mine, and we do have free will. So can he even do anything about it really? Could I just like...destroy my life and have him not do anything about it? Cause he can't really...can he. It's all about free will. Right? If he DID care, then why wouldn't he stop me from wanting/thinking about certain things. Why wouldn't he banish the thoughts that fill my head each day. Why wouldn't he replace my pain with joy? Why would he let me sit here for so long, lost and confused. I know some people have it worse than I do. But those people either already have God, or don't. They are't stuck somewhere awkwardly in the middle like I am.
Does it matter that I've been "depressed" for x amount of years now? Does it? Let's see. How far back did it start? Well. 2006. That should be a good starting place. Hm...no. I think I was already depressed then. What about 2005. So I was what...12? What happened that year? That was a rough year for me, but it was better than 2006. So let's say that it was a slow and steady decline beginning somewhere between 2005-2006. That's...how many years? Does it even matter? To some it probably does. But not to me. Nothing really matters anymore. My life is pretty much pointless. At least it seems that way.
So what IS the reason I'm here? Since I'm a FAILURE of a Christian. Then why am I here? I can't really further God's kingdom when I'm fighting against it myself...now can I? According to some people, God has plans for all of us. But I don't really believe that. Cause if he did, then why am I so lost. Why am I so confused? Why isn't anything ever working out? Why do I hate my life so much? If he does then why isn't he doing anything to try and stop me from screwing up my life? From destroying the only thing he gave me. Life.
Does he even care what I do with it? After all it is mine, and we do have free will. So can he even do anything about it really? Could I just like...destroy my life and have him not do anything about it? Cause he can't really...can he. It's all about free will. Right? If he DID care, then why wouldn't he stop me from wanting/thinking about certain things. Why wouldn't he banish the thoughts that fill my head each day. Why wouldn't he replace my pain with joy? Why would he let me sit here for so long, lost and confused. I know some people have it worse than I do. But those people either already have God, or don't. They are't stuck somewhere awkwardly in the middle like I am.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Alone Tonight
I'm alone tonight
can't anyone hear
the tears falling from my eyes
the breaking of my heart
as my world falls apart
I'm alone tonight
can't anyone see
the tear stained pages that lay before me
the shattered remains of my life
the pain hidden behind my eyes
can't anyone see
that i'm dying here tonight
My mind can't comprehend
the pain that hides within my memories
the pain i'm running from
it can't understand
where the pain comes from
or why i run from it so
it can't comprehend
even the simplest thought
I'm alone tonight
because no one else cares
they don't try
and those that do
i push away
i'm alone tonight
because i can't accept it
i can't believe
that someone would care
especially when
i dont even care
when my life is so far gone
that i'm ready to give up
to stop fighting so dang hard
to give up and let my life
simply fall away
i'm alone tonight
because i can't understand
the thoughts that float through my head
and if i can't understand
then there is no reason
why anyone should...
or would...
be able to
Monday, December 14, 2009
The Impossible
What's impossible...Hiding from God.
Yet even with the knowledge that it IS impossible...why do some, still attempt to hide from him? Why do some still hope that eventually, after many years, after running around in countless circles, that they may finally escape from him? That they may be free from his prying eyes, free to do what they wish. To screw up their life, knowing that they could have done so much better? Why?
Why do they run away, knowing that he will find them again? Knowing that he knows every thing about them...what they will do with their life.
Why, I can't tell you. But I can tell you about my own journey. My journey to accomplish...the impossible. With full knowledge that I will fail. Yet I can't seem to cancel this journey, I have to go through with it. I just have to.
A few weeks ago I had an interesting conversation with a close friend (and cousin) of mine. It was during another one of my "la la" land adventures. He asked why I had not been praying. And I told him. Flat out told him. He didn't know what to say. I told him how I'd heard it all. All the sermons, songs, stories...all of it. I'd heard them over and over again. But that was all it was now...simply songs, sermons, stories...nothing more. This "religion" is more a part of my so called "life" rather than a conscious decision. Its like it was just shoved into my life as a way of life...like I never made the choice...but I didn't want that. I wasn't trying to run from God. But at the same time I was. I was trying to remove God from my life, even thoguh I didn't want to. I want God, but at the same time...part of me doesn't. Its like part of me is dying to be free from my past life...and since I grew up as a Christian...that part of me believes that in order to be free I have to remove everything from my past...including my believes. I know this is wrong, I know this isn't the truth...but the other 1/2 of me isn't listening. I can't control it, this...dark....evil side of me. I can't contain it. Every now and then it pops up, takes a glimpse around the free world and realizes that it LOVES this freedom. And then, I'm stuck, struggling to decide which is right, and which is wrong. Running from something that is more powerful than I could ever be or trying to forget it all and move on.
And then a few days ago some people were talking about how we have to rely on God and I was sitting there thinking "Will you just shut up about God already!? I don't want to hear it..." Its the same way with Prayer. I don't want to. Its not that I can't, or that he's not listening. I don't want to . And that thought scares me. It honestly scares me. But what can I do? If everything related to God, I'm shoving away faster than I can embrace it?
Yet even with the knowledge that it IS impossible...why do some, still attempt to hide from him? Why do some still hope that eventually, after many years, after running around in countless circles, that they may finally escape from him? That they may be free from his prying eyes, free to do what they wish. To screw up their life, knowing that they could have done so much better? Why?
Why do they run away, knowing that he will find them again? Knowing that he knows every thing about them...what they will do with their life.
Why, I can't tell you. But I can tell you about my own journey. My journey to accomplish...the impossible. With full knowledge that I will fail. Yet I can't seem to cancel this journey, I have to go through with it. I just have to.
A few weeks ago I had an interesting conversation with a close friend (and cousin) of mine. It was during another one of my "la la" land adventures. He asked why I had not been praying. And I told him. Flat out told him. He didn't know what to say. I told him how I'd heard it all. All the sermons, songs, stories...all of it. I'd heard them over and over again. But that was all it was now...simply songs, sermons, stories...nothing more. This "religion" is more a part of my so called "life" rather than a conscious decision. Its like it was just shoved into my life as a way of life...like I never made the choice...but I didn't want that. I wasn't trying to run from God. But at the same time I was. I was trying to remove God from my life, even thoguh I didn't want to. I want God, but at the same time...part of me doesn't. Its like part of me is dying to be free from my past life...and since I grew up as a Christian...that part of me believes that in order to be free I have to remove everything from my past...including my believes. I know this is wrong, I know this isn't the truth...but the other 1/2 of me isn't listening. I can't control it, this...dark....evil side of me. I can't contain it. Every now and then it pops up, takes a glimpse around the free world and realizes that it LOVES this freedom. And then, I'm stuck, struggling to decide which is right, and which is wrong. Running from something that is more powerful than I could ever be or trying to forget it all and move on.
And then a few days ago some people were talking about how we have to rely on God and I was sitting there thinking "Will you just shut up about God already!? I don't want to hear it..." Its the same way with Prayer. I don't want to. Its not that I can't, or that he's not listening. I don't want to . And that thought scares me. It honestly scares me. But what can I do? If everything related to God, I'm shoving away faster than I can embrace it?
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Will I?
I am Depressed. There I said it, except technically I haven't. I have never said the word aloud, to myself, referring to myself. And now, on the day my brother gets married...I find myself sitting here thinking about how terribly screwed up I am.
What teenage girl in her right mind, (one that has grown up in the church), would run from God? Who would turn down his advice, turn away from his face, shove his words into the back of her mind, avoid talking to him, avoid thinking about him....what teenage girl would do such a thing?! A screwed up one....a screwed up, depressed one such as myself. That's who.
Now....now that I have such wonderful information within my grasp...what do I do with it? Do I shout it on the rooftops. "I'M DEPRESSED!" "I'M INSANE!" Do I confront my family and tell them the truth, and then be shoved into a psych ward for my screwed up brain?
Do I turn back to God? And if so...then how? Will I even be able to contain that dark side of me that doesn't want anything to do with him? Will I ever be able to? Will I?
What teenage girl in her right mind, (one that has grown up in the church), would run from God? Who would turn down his advice, turn away from his face, shove his words into the back of her mind, avoid talking to him, avoid thinking about him....what teenage girl would do such a thing?! A screwed up one....a screwed up, depressed one such as myself. That's who.
Now....now that I have such wonderful information within my grasp...what do I do with it? Do I shout it on the rooftops. "I'M DEPRESSED!" "I'M INSANE!" Do I confront my family and tell them the truth, and then be shoved into a psych ward for my screwed up brain?
Do I turn back to God? And if so...then how? Will I even be able to contain that dark side of me that doesn't want anything to do with him? Will I ever be able to? Will I?
Saturday, December 5, 2009
The "D" word and sleep
I am avoiding it. I never say that I am "depressed" but in my head I know that I am. So if I never say it, but I think it...does that mean that I am claiming it?
I am unable to sleep. I haven't slept well in weeks, maybe months. Each night I lay in bed thinking. I think too much. Way too much. My mind wanders aimlessly, and then I come to thoughts that I shouldn't even be thinking about yet. Things that I'd rather forget, or don't need to worry about yet. And its during these times that I go from being perfectly okay with the world to being perfectly NOT okay with it.
I am unable to sleep. I haven't slept well in weeks, maybe months. Each night I lay in bed thinking. I think too much. Way too much. My mind wanders aimlessly, and then I come to thoughts that I shouldn't even be thinking about yet. Things that I'd rather forget, or don't need to worry about yet. And its during these times that I go from being perfectly okay with the world to being perfectly NOT okay with it.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Cannot Escape
Cannot Escape
Memories torture my mind
As I battle to forget
The pain wells up inside
Overflowing into my daily life
Why can’t i
Just leave it all behind
I cannot escape
Sleep fills my head with dread
Day light keeps me wondering why
I’m left with no escape
My heart turns to rock
As I try to forget
I push others out
To scared to get hurt again
So much pain, so much hurt
My life could be made of stone
Like ancient remenants of the past
I cannot run fast enough
To escape the pain that pursues me
The memories that chase me
Problems I’m too scared to face
Invade my life
Overthrowing the small remains
Of the old me
I just can’t run fast enough
Pull me to the ground
Rip out my soul
Take away the pain
I don’t want to hurt anymore
For this is one battle
That I will never win
My mind is too far gone
There is no more
Coming back
Forget it
Cause I am done
What’s the point
In trying to smile
Trying to hide
All that pain inside
No one will notice
They never do
So let it all out
Stop trying so dang hard
Fore you can’t win
Not this time
Not anymore
I cannot escape
Nightmares torture me day and night
Worry fills my soul
Every breath I take
Seems like a waste
What’s the point
I cannot escape
The lights already passed
And the tunnel is dark
No way out
Cause the way is blocked
By these dark memories
I cannot escape
Not a good year
My mind is failing me once more. I had managed to convince myself that I had succeed, so many months ago. But now I know what I was wrong. I have not forgotten nor will I ever forget that night. I've tried countless times to forget that mind shattering event between my mother and I. Yet I cannot and will never be able to. It has been ingrained in my mind, images, feelings, memories that I would rather not remember. Will always be there. Always.
It wasn't too long ago, that this event happened to occur. But it was long enough ago that I had almost succeeded in forgetting it. Until recently.
My emotional state hadn't yet been secured, and I was wobbling all over the place mentally and emotionally. Josh had only been gone for a week, maybe less than that. It was August 26, 2009 and that was my first major fight with my mom...in my entire life. It wasn't so much of a fight as a long everlasting lecture about how horrible of a child I was. How rebellious and hateful I was...blah blah blah. I was forced to sit there, in the bathroom in the dark, tears streaming down my face as my mother yelled at me and refused to let me leave the room until she was satisfied. At the same time, my younger brother was in the living room blasting the music as loud as he could so that he could drown out the noise. He and I have had to sit through several fights, mainly between my Mom and Josh...and we always hated it. (He later told me that he felt terrible, and that he hated every minute of it, and felt bad for me) I probably sat in the bathroom for an hour. Maybe a little longer. all the while crying my eyes out. I just wanted to go to my room. I just wanted to curl up on my bed and cry. but I wasn't allowed to. Actually, I wanted a hug. A hug from my brother...from Josh. But he wasn't home. He wasn't there both physically and spiritually...and he will never be again either.
Eventually I was released, and free to go to my room. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried for 2+ hours...straight.
2009 has not been a good year. The year was supposed to bring the changes...the good changes. It haso nly brought despair. I never felt this alone until this year. I've never cried so much...until this year. I've never done this much thinking until this year and I've never wanted to run away this strongly...until now.
It wasn't too long ago, that this event happened to occur. But it was long enough ago that I had almost succeeded in forgetting it. Until recently.
My emotional state hadn't yet been secured, and I was wobbling all over the place mentally and emotionally. Josh had only been gone for a week, maybe less than that. It was August 26, 2009 and that was my first major fight with my mom...in my entire life. It wasn't so much of a fight as a long everlasting lecture about how horrible of a child I was. How rebellious and hateful I was...blah blah blah. I was forced to sit there, in the bathroom in the dark, tears streaming down my face as my mother yelled at me and refused to let me leave the room until she was satisfied. At the same time, my younger brother was in the living room blasting the music as loud as he could so that he could drown out the noise. He and I have had to sit through several fights, mainly between my Mom and Josh...and we always hated it. (He later told me that he felt terrible, and that he hated every minute of it, and felt bad for me) I probably sat in the bathroom for an hour. Maybe a little longer. all the while crying my eyes out. I just wanted to go to my room. I just wanted to curl up on my bed and cry. but I wasn't allowed to. Actually, I wanted a hug. A hug from my brother...from Josh. But he wasn't home. He wasn't there both physically and spiritually...and he will never be again either.
Eventually I was released, and free to go to my room. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried for 2+ hours...straight.
2009 has not been a good year. The year was supposed to bring the changes...the good changes. It haso nly brought despair. I never felt this alone until this year. I've never cried so much...until this year. I've never done this much thinking until this year and I've never wanted to run away this strongly...until now.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Who is that girl?
Who is that girl? The one that insists that she's fine, but is really dying inside? The one that pushes everyone else away, afraid that if they get too close then they'll see the strings that hold her life together.
Who is that girl? That cries herself to sleep at night. That's struggling to do what's right. Not to cry. Not to run away from her wretched life? Who is she? The one that's lost, who's alone, who's fighting to live another day? Who is she? And why does she hide so?
Who is that girl? That stares you in the eyes, and lies. Who's hiding behind a mask. Who only wants you to ask. "Who is that girl?"
Who is that girl? The one that's trying to forget. To escape from the pains of yesterday. Who is she? The one that's running from the past. The one that lies to your face. The one that can't explain. The one that's always running away. Who is she? The girl with the pain filled eyes. The pathetic pile of lies.
Who is that girl? The one that wanders along the border of fine. The one that dips her toes in depression. The one that plays with "fire". The one that claws at her arms. The one that wants to go blind. The one that wants to forget it all. The one that enjoys the pain? The one that hurts. The one that wants to hurt. The one that longs to hurt. The one that hurts to escape the memories.
Who is that girl? The jumpy one, who's always wanting to run. Who itches for escape. Longs for freedom. Dreams of a new beginning....who is trapped by the past.
Who is that girl? Who's life is falling apart. Who begs for another start. Who is she?
She is me.
Who is that girl? That cries herself to sleep at night. That's struggling to do what's right. Not to cry. Not to run away from her wretched life? Who is she? The one that's lost, who's alone, who's fighting to live another day? Who is she? And why does she hide so?
Who is that girl? That stares you in the eyes, and lies. Who's hiding behind a mask. Who only wants you to ask. "Who is that girl?"
Who is that girl? The one that's trying to forget. To escape from the pains of yesterday. Who is she? The one that's running from the past. The one that lies to your face. The one that can't explain. The one that's always running away. Who is she? The girl with the pain filled eyes. The pathetic pile of lies.
Who is that girl? The one that wanders along the border of fine. The one that dips her toes in depression. The one that plays with "fire". The one that claws at her arms. The one that wants to go blind. The one that wants to forget it all. The one that enjoys the pain? The one that hurts. The one that wants to hurt. The one that longs to hurt. The one that hurts to escape the memories.
Who is that girl? The jumpy one, who's always wanting to run. Who itches for escape. Longs for freedom. Dreams of a new beginning....who is trapped by the past.
Who is that girl? Who's life is falling apart. Who begs for another start. Who is she?
She is me.
Back to Reality...
Back to reality...sorta.
My life feels normal again. Back to the way it used to, but I know that in a few short weeks it will go back to being screwed up once more. You see, I saw my brother today. Josh. He's graduating from boot camp tomorrow, and we got to hang out with him today. While he was here things felt like they used to. But I know that come December 26th, I'll be back to my saddened possibly depressed self. With him gone, I'm not the same person that I really am. He's my brother, my beloved older brother. One who I have looked up to for my entire life. He's always been there for me, but when he's gone...its like part of me is missing. My life isn't in order, I'm not the same. He was the last thing that kept me from blowing up...from becoming the cruel, cold, harsh, insane, jerk, heartless mongrel that I really am. The side of me that's hidden 24/7, buried behind thick steel doors with deadbolts every where. The side of me that hasn't seen the light of day for years. YEARS!
But when he's gone...its like the doors become unlocked, and that evil side of me just walks right out. It explores its new freedom, tests the limits and then realizes that it enjoys this new freedom. It locks up the old self, and lives on...lying to everyone else. Shoving each and everyone away that so much as DARES to even begin to approach me.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
In need of a bigger brain...
I am in need of a bigger brain because mine is overflowing. Overflowing with thoughts and ideas that I can't seem to organize into separate categories...because my brain is already full. I can't think straight, I can't even begin to focus on anything...and each weekend, anything I learned in school is thrown in the trash in my unconscious attempt to organize my thoughts.
I'm woken up at 5:30am each and EVERY day. As I sit there, my mind spinning as it tries to think clearly. I worry. I dream. I worry again. I dream some more. I plan. I plot. I try to focus. I learn. I forget. I worry once more. I'm back where I started.
My life is far from normal. Whatever normal is. I don't even seem to live in reality anymore. Its like my brain has given up on "reality" and has moved off to la la land...and just so happened to "forget" to leave a "reach-me-address". Nothing is real to me anymore. Everything is a lie, a fake...its not real. I live in this world, that doesn't even exist. My life...isn't realistic. My dreams...aren't realistic. My expectations...aren't realistic. Nothing about me is realistic...is real. Its like I'm not even here half the time. My mind's lost in some foreign land, and I can't seem to find my way back. Part of me is fighting to get back...while the half...is beginning to like this different "world" where I can be whoever I want. Where I never have to worry, where things work the way they are supposed to. Where father's don't run off with other women. Where parents, siblings, friends, spouses...don't die. Where war doesn't exist. Where money is never a problem. Where everyone is treated equal. Where obesity isn't a problem. Where disease is instinct. Where teenagers aren't depressed for reasons that don't even make sense. Where people aren't haunted by their past. Where I can actually understand the thoughts that somehow appear in my head. That somehow seem to make sense, but I don't know how. Where things are the way I've always imagined.
But this world doesn't really exist. Its not real, never has been...and sadly will never be. People will die. Fathers will run off with other women. Disease is still running about our world--killing all in its path. War is still going strong, and there doesn't seem to be any end. Depression attacks the innocent--never leaving any escape. Obesity, poverty, and unexplainable things...still happen.
And I'm still sitting here. In dire need of a bigger brain. One that could comprehend these thoughts. One that could make sense of my confused emotions. One that doesn't become depressed for no apparent reason. Yet I don't have any of it. I'm still here, still unable to understand. And still---depressed.
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