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!

Notebook of Failure

A Notebook. A simple, spiral bound, notebook. Filled, to the brim, with failure. Words, scattered across the pages, depicting the major failure of my life. Words, all they are...are words. Words that describe me in the failure of my life. At my weakest moment. Words that ARE me when I'm sulking at the bottom of my pit. The pit I created, out of self pity. The pit in which I spend a good deal of my time. The same pit, that I've attempted to escape time after time. The pit that I've grown too fond of over the past year or so. The pit, that holds me captive.

Writing/Publishing

I've got to write. I just have to. If I don't have a method for writing before me, especially when I get the itch to write, then I'll like...die. I can't live without writing. Its my life. I LIVE to write. Everything I enjoy is somehow connected to writing. This blog, its writing. Journals are writing. Reading, is so I can write better. Research, so I can write better. Conversations, about writing. Everything is writing this and writing that. I can't live without writing.

Now that I have finished my writing rant time to move on to other things. For example the 800 page novel I have hiding away on my laptop and now my email. :) As well as the many other novels that I have started and are also hiding away, probably never to be heard of or read by anyone. Save for Syra that is. :) Also, I just got back from a Women's Writing Workshop. Talk about amazing, so many things to learn so many interesting things to do now. I'm just dying right now to sit down and write and write and write. I can't even finish this blog properly because I'm just dying to write, to edit my novel and to get stuff ready to actually send off to the publishers. I've learned so much about publishing, and I've got a novel that might actually be able to be published. So, why not go for it? I'm hoping to publish a novel before or during my 19th birth...um...year. :)

Need

I can't escape
this need of mine
lurking deep within
the soul I hide

it holds me tight
binding me day & night
with a strength
i cannot fight

the pain
like a blanket, it covers my life
the hate
fills my vision
the anger
lurks within the shadows
waiting for a chance to be unleashed
the abandonment
lies in wait in the dark of the night
preying on the fond memories
and happy thoughts

i embrace it all
as if i couldn't live without
i embrace
because i cannot face
the life before me

without it
i am not me
i need it
to feel
to be me
to keep the terrors of the dark at bay
to keep my sanity
i need
because without it
i cannot be

I'm tied to it, this need of mine. I cannot escape this need of mine. Without it, I simply wouldn't be me. I can't live without this need, I just can't. Without it, I cannot live. Its me. Its all I know. I NEED to feel the pain, I NEED to feel abandoned and alone. I need it because I feel like without it, I'm not me anymore. That when its gone, the real me is gone. I NEED the scars on my hands, I NEED them to stay. I can't live without them. If they fade, I'll simply make more. I desperately need them, I need them to remind me. To remind me of the pain, to remind me of the hate, the anger, the abandonment. I don't know how to live without my need. I've never had the chance to, I don't know how to. all I know is this. I NEED this.

No one understands how badly I NEED this pain. This hate, in my life. I need something, something to channel all the frustration, anger, and resentment into. I NEED this to make me feel like me. I'm terrified to know, what I'd be like, had these things been taken from my life. Would I be me? Would I be here? I'm addicted to it, I don't just WANT it. I NEED it. Its my addiction. I can't live without it. I don't care how dangerous it is. How deadly it can be. All I know is that without it, I'm simply not me. Everyone has their own addiction. Mine is simply pain. I can't live without pain. I need the pain. Any form of pain is fine. When the emotional, spiritual pain is absent. I resort to new more physical methods. I NEED the scars, they make me feel the pain I'm so terribly addicted to. The pain I feel, as I stare at them is an emotional pain. But for now, it is enough to keep me from the physical. I'm addicted. I'm an Addict. I NEED it. I have to have it. I can't live without it....

Desperation

I sit 

my heart pounding;

and stare

the paths before me

empty and bare

chose one

a voice whispers

just one

thats all it takes

promises of a bright future await

Thats where I sit tonight, staring down the empty paths before me. Trying to figure out which one's meant for me. Two large branches lay before me, each with their own side streets. Choose one, and then another one...that's all it really takes. It should be so easy, so very easy. But its not, it never has been. How am I ever supposed to choose? 

The paths...they are like two opposites, two things I'm forced to choose between. Everyone thinks it should be easy, so easy. After all a good Christian kid like me, there's really only one option right? A christian school and a life pursuing God. but that's my problem, because its what everyone expects, I just can't force myself to do it. I'm tried of being the person everyone expects me to be, people like that are simply ignored. No one bothers to pay attention to someone who never changes, who's always the same and totally predictable. Why bother, they are the same all the time right? Well not anymore, I dont want to be that way. After being ignored forever, I'm just wanting a little attention. To feel like I belong, like people actually care. And that's why this choosing is so dang hard. 

Do I go with what's right, what the proper thing would be to do? Or do I take a slightly alternative route, going with what I desire.

I'm desperate. I don't know where to turn. I'm stuck, staring at these paths feeling all alone. My hearts beating fast, it knows the time is soon. Soon, too soon, I'll have to choose. Why can't I just wait? Isn't there some short cut, a mid-way mark? Why do I have to choose now? My times almost up, I've got nowhere to turn. Left? Right? Straight? Wait? What do I do? I'm desperate for an answer! I'm dying for a little light, I can't see the next step. What is it? How far do I go? Is there any going back? What if I mess up? Can I turn back? How am I ever going to do this? Will I survive? Will I ever make it through this? GAH! Why won't someone just tell me, I'm dying here! I'm DESPERATE FOR AN ANSWER! 

Writing & Editing

Lately I've been obsessed with writing. Thankfully this is actually a good hobby for me as I NEED to write. I need it to escape my mind, to disappear into a world that I weave right before my very eyes. I need this, because without...well, I don't like to think about what happens without it. You probably already know the answer to that one and if not. Here's a hint. I haven't written much in the past 4+ months. So if you've read my blog, then you know what's happened in those months.

All I've done since putting together my new Desk is sit at my desk and type. Type about anything, but mostly type out the novel that is rapidly spinning through my head. I have several "novels" going through my head at any given moment. Lately there have been 3 major ones. 2 of them are ones I wish I could publish, and HOPE to publish and the third is a dream-story. Its a story that's developed while I was sleeping, the dreams are all connected. With the same characters, locations, desires, etc. Its all the same. I have written down the 3 current dreams I've had about this particular story and the other 2. Well one's still in the process of being "processed" by my brain while the other needs to be finished and edited. Which is what I've been attempting to do these past 2 days. I really am pretty excited about it, and since I'm excited it takes my mind off of other things. Which is exactly what I've needed for a long time now.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I failed. I really did. My hand still burns/itches and its QUITE visible. But really, only part of me regrets it. Sure it hurts and sure its stupid and dumb and careless. But the other part of me is glad that its there. It reminds me of what's happened and reminds me of how far I've sunk in the past. Certainly the argument "well shouldn't the others have done that?" will come up as this one is at least 1-2 months newer than the older ones. (Which have healed surprising well and are even beginning to fade AMAZING!) I'm on the climb again, thanks mostly to my greatly increased grades and my sudden enthusiasm for writing once again. I just don't feel like me when I'm not writing. Especially when I WANT to write, and just can't find the enthusiasm that I so desperately want. Oh how great it feels to be writing & reading again. I haven't read much lately either and now that I am I've found how much I've missed it---and how greatly it helps with my writing. :) And now I'm a bit too excited about writing to continue this post. I must go and continue my writing and editing.

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.