Well it sure has been a while since I've been back on here.
Where do I start? I don't even know.
Well let's just see where this takes us, shall we?
I'm recovering from anorexia/bulimia. Actually, I'm writing this so I don't go purge everything in my stomach. So far, it's a good distraction, but we'll see where it goes.
Is it sick that I miss it? The starving, the purging, the secrecy, the emptiness? I miss it so much. More than anything. But I know how awful it was. It was dreadful. I would never wish that life on anyone. I follow my friend Hannah's blog where she writes poetry, and she wrote about purging. It was just a line or two, but I still caught it. Either way, she's going down a deadly road and I am not going to just let her. I nearly killed myself multiple times because of my eating disorder. I was so ready to do it, so ready to die. She was the one who brought me back. She would stay up and talk with me and she'd help me. She's the reason I'm in recovery. But, the thing is, you don't become bulimic or anorexic by accident. You have to start it intentionally... eventually it becomes a lifestyle but before that transition it's completely voluntary. Yet... she saw what I went through. She saw my struggles and my pain and my hatred and my horrible way of living and she tried to help me. She would tell me not to. She would try to fix me. And now she's doing it herself? It hurts. After what she saw me go through, she's going to do it herself? No. That actually really hurts me. On a personal level, it feels like she's saying now, "Never mind what I said before, I lied. Starving is good. Purging is okay. Your eating disorder was actually great. It's all good, you go ahead." I'm in the process of changing my life because it was going to kill me, and you saw me at my worst, and now you just go and do it? Are you motherfucking kidding me? I actually take that so offensively. But you know what? Fine. If she won't eat, and if she'll purge, then so will I. She was my voice of reason. She was telling me not to do it. But if she's going to do it, then what's stopping me?
On a side note, me and my girlfriend Dani just got back together today. I broke up with her on Tuesday, but that was the worst mistake I could have ever made. It was two days. Two days. I cried all night the day I did it, and even into the next day. I burst into tears at my recovery facility. They had no idea what to do; it was out of no where. But it was because I missed her so much. Sure, we were still friends and all, but it wasn't the same. Anyway, last night I slept over her house. We decided to watch movies together, and we watched two in a row - The Lost Boys and Zombieland. The entire time we were sitting on the couch, she held my hand. When she took my hand, I couldn't breathe. I don't know why, I just couldn't. But I was so relieved! I was going to her house with the intention of asking her to be mine again anyway, but I wasn't sure she'd say yes. When she took my hand though, I knew it would be okay. At one point, she let go of my hand and just rested her head on my shoulder. Then she wrapped her fingers around my wrist. We stayed like that until the second movie ended. In my head, I imagined us just like that but in our own place a few years later. It'd be just us, still together after all of this time, happy, possibly married. The idea warmed my heart, and I beat myself up mentally for ever even considering letting this beautiful, amazing, wonderful girl think I didn't want to be with her. So, this morning at around 12:30, my dad was there to pick me up from her house. We'd pulled out the bed from her couch and I was still laying there as she went to the window to check if he was out there. She came back, telling me he was.
"I don't want you to leave." she'd said, laying down next to me and hugging me to her.
"I don't want to leave." I'd said back, pulling all of my courage together and kissing her shoulder. It scared me because I didn't know if she'd be okay with that since we weren't together anymore. She was fine with it. I knew it was all okay.
We just laid there for a while, quiet. I had to leave but I couldn't leave without doing what I came to do. It would kill me all day and night until I saw her again.
"Be my girlfriend again." I said. It wasn't a question. I wasn't asking. I didn't want to know if she'd want to get back together. I wanted her to know that I needed her with me. No one wants to admit that they need someone because they feel scared, maybe even powerless, but I can't deny that I can't go without this girl with me. I need her.
I don't think she even paused for a second before saying, "yes!", happily, and kissing me quickly. I made a promise to myself right then that no matter what, I am never leaving this girl ever again. I'm not going to break up with her, I will not leave her, I will not ignore her. I will be there until she wants me gone because I am a fifteen year old girl who's recovering from mental illnesses, sometimes overly emotional, and completely and undeniably in love with this wonderful girl. I am never going to ever let her think I don't want her ever again, because that is a sick and twisted lie.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Confession #3
Confession #3--
I think I might still be in love
Which, just saying, royally sucks. Badly. She's out of my league anyway.
So, there's this girl. Obviously, I mean, read the confession. She's sort of been on my mind for a really long time, and I thought I was able to shake the feeling, but I guess I didn't. For the sake of this post, the girl's name will be Katie. Don't know why, I just sort of picked that name off the top of my head.
So, anyway, Katie and I were really close. I could have easily classed her as one of my best friends. So, when I started liking her the summer before eighth grade, I didn't think much of it. I thought it'd pass, which, apparently, it didn't. Anyway, Katie and I met up at a party last year, and I really liked her then. I was sort of still getting used to the whole 'not straight' thing, but I wasn't freaking out about it. I've been really close to people that are gay--my uncles, like ALL of them--so, figuring out I was a little less than straight was absolutely no big deal. So, we met up and we chilled out like usual. But then she started getting really touchy-feely. I didn't mind, like I said, I liked her, but I thought she was joking. Turns out she wasn't. So later that night we were all joking around, Katie and I included, and well, lets just say one thing lead to another and suddenly she was kissing me. Like, kissing me. It was really, really hot. I loved it so much. We were pretty much making out for the next half hour or so. It was...oh my god.
So, after that, my crush on her grew so much. I mean, why wouldn't it? She's absolutely amazing. My friend Niana--who was at the party--wont let me live it down. Truly, I don't care, it was an amazing night. I didn't really get to see Katie all that much, though. That really made me sad, because I really wanted to spend some time with her. I was hoping to ask her out--I mean, it's not like she's straight--since I thought she liked me. Then, one day, I heard she got a boyfriend named Jake.
Heart=Broken
I was totally confused, but I was sort of expecting it. I mean, I hadn't talked to her in a while, but I guess I was still hopeful. Which was really stupid of me, I should have known better than that. I guess it wasn't wrong of me to hope, but I was so hung up on her it was scary. I thought about her all the time, and when we DID talk I'd replay the conversations in my head. It was really pathetic what kind of schoolgirl-virgin crush I had on her. And, obviously, it did nothing but get worse.
So, as time passed, the feelings for Katie I had didn't go away. Every time I saw her, or joked around with her, or really anything, I sort of fell more for her. It wasn't all that long till she was literally the only thing I thought about. And it hurt, really bad to see her with someone else. Like, he's a nice guy, I don't really know him, but I didn't like him at all. I was so jealous. I wanted to be with her. But I let it slide, because I didn't want to intrude on their relationship, I mean, how shitty of me would that be? I'm not like that. So I gritted my teeth and left her alone. Every night after for a few months I tried so hard to not think about her. I didn't even know why I was so obsessed with her, we had a thing, that was it. But I didn't want that to be it! For months I just tried to think of anything but her, anything! It was so difficult, but finally after a few months and a LOT of self-loathing, it started to work. I didn't think of her as much, and I didn't talk to her as much. It was getting better. I thought.
Recently, I started thinking about her again. I don't want to fall into the same pattern I did before--thats the last thing I want. I really want to try and like someone else, but I can't if I obsess over her again. I keep trying, but I don't want to have to feel like I did before. I liked--maybe loved--her a lot, but I hated myself for it even more. I felt like a homewrecker because she was in a relationship and obviously didn't want me. I felt really ugly and unwanted, like trash. I know I shouldn't have, but I did. I don't want to feel like that again, it was almost poisonous. I just want to be friends with her, but I don't know if I can after feeling for her like that. I think I might still love her, but thats the last thing I want.
I think I might still be in love
Which, just saying, royally sucks. Badly. She's out of my league anyway.
So, there's this girl. Obviously, I mean, read the confession. She's sort of been on my mind for a really long time, and I thought I was able to shake the feeling, but I guess I didn't. For the sake of this post, the girl's name will be Katie. Don't know why, I just sort of picked that name off the top of my head.
So, anyway, Katie and I were really close. I could have easily classed her as one of my best friends. So, when I started liking her the summer before eighth grade, I didn't think much of it. I thought it'd pass, which, apparently, it didn't. Anyway, Katie and I met up at a party last year, and I really liked her then. I was sort of still getting used to the whole 'not straight' thing, but I wasn't freaking out about it. I've been really close to people that are gay--my uncles, like ALL of them--so, figuring out I was a little less than straight was absolutely no big deal. So, we met up and we chilled out like usual. But then she started getting really touchy-feely. I didn't mind, like I said, I liked her, but I thought she was joking. Turns out she wasn't. So later that night we were all joking around, Katie and I included, and well, lets just say one thing lead to another and suddenly she was kissing me. Like, kissing me. It was really, really hot. I loved it so much. We were pretty much making out for the next half hour or so. It was...oh my god.
So, after that, my crush on her grew so much. I mean, why wouldn't it? She's absolutely amazing. My friend Niana--who was at the party--wont let me live it down. Truly, I don't care, it was an amazing night. I didn't really get to see Katie all that much, though. That really made me sad, because I really wanted to spend some time with her. I was hoping to ask her out--I mean, it's not like she's straight--since I thought she liked me. Then, one day, I heard she got a boyfriend named Jake.
Heart=Broken
I was totally confused, but I was sort of expecting it. I mean, I hadn't talked to her in a while, but I guess I was still hopeful. Which was really stupid of me, I should have known better than that. I guess it wasn't wrong of me to hope, but I was so hung up on her it was scary. I thought about her all the time, and when we DID talk I'd replay the conversations in my head. It was really pathetic what kind of schoolgirl-virgin crush I had on her. And, obviously, it did nothing but get worse.
So, as time passed, the feelings for Katie I had didn't go away. Every time I saw her, or joked around with her, or really anything, I sort of fell more for her. It wasn't all that long till she was literally the only thing I thought about. And it hurt, really bad to see her with someone else. Like, he's a nice guy, I don't really know him, but I didn't like him at all. I was so jealous. I wanted to be with her. But I let it slide, because I didn't want to intrude on their relationship, I mean, how shitty of me would that be? I'm not like that. So I gritted my teeth and left her alone. Every night after for a few months I tried so hard to not think about her. I didn't even know why I was so obsessed with her, we had a thing, that was it. But I didn't want that to be it! For months I just tried to think of anything but her, anything! It was so difficult, but finally after a few months and a LOT of self-loathing, it started to work. I didn't think of her as much, and I didn't talk to her as much. It was getting better. I thought.
Recently, I started thinking about her again. I don't want to fall into the same pattern I did before--thats the last thing I want. I really want to try and like someone else, but I can't if I obsess over her again. I keep trying, but I don't want to have to feel like I did before. I liked--maybe loved--her a lot, but I hated myself for it even more. I felt like a homewrecker because she was in a relationship and obviously didn't want me. I felt really ugly and unwanted, like trash. I know I shouldn't have, but I did. I don't want to feel like that again, it was almost poisonous. I just want to be friends with her, but I don't know if I can after feeling for her like that. I think I might still love her, but thats the last thing I want.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Confession #2
Confession #2--
I am terrified of growing up
I'm not terrified of getting older, per say. I'm just terrified of my future. I'm terrified to not live my dreams like I want, to be stuck bored and alone, unhappy. That sounds more realistic to me than what I want to happen. I mean, I always question myself. What if I get stuck as I am? What if I can't make anything of myself? What if I disappoint my aunt and my parents? Nothing scares me worse.
I just want to grow up and be like my heros, happy, secure, and having a fucking blast! All of my heros, besides my aunt, are rockstars, and I know that wanting to be like a rockstar is overplayed, but I just want to be happy like they are. I want to be loving life like they do when I grow up. It doesn't sound like much, and truly it's not, but thats what I want. I want to grow up and be happy, but what if that doesn't happen? What if I grow up and I'm alone again? I was alone for almost all my life since my parents neglected me--they've only started talking to me like last December. What if that goes away when I get older? That's not what I want.
When I grow up I just want to go to not be a disgrace, or a disappointment. My parents are actually angry at my brother because they raised him to be an egotistical nothing who cant do anything for himself, so college isn't looking so good. My dad REALLY wants to send him to the army to teach him how to fucking gain some respect and control, which he needs. I hate thinking that everything's changing. What if I'm not ready?
Even if I'm not, I'll try my fucking hardest to be.
I am terrified of growing up
I'm not terrified of getting older, per say. I'm just terrified of my future. I'm terrified to not live my dreams like I want, to be stuck bored and alone, unhappy. That sounds more realistic to me than what I want to happen. I mean, I always question myself. What if I get stuck as I am? What if I can't make anything of myself? What if I disappoint my aunt and my parents? Nothing scares me worse.
I just want to grow up and be like my heros, happy, secure, and having a fucking blast! All of my heros, besides my aunt, are rockstars, and I know that wanting to be like a rockstar is overplayed, but I just want to be happy like they are. I want to be loving life like they do when I grow up. It doesn't sound like much, and truly it's not, but thats what I want. I want to grow up and be happy, but what if that doesn't happen? What if I grow up and I'm alone again? I was alone for almost all my life since my parents neglected me--they've only started talking to me like last December. What if that goes away when I get older? That's not what I want.
When I grow up I just want to go to not be a disgrace, or a disappointment. My parents are actually angry at my brother because they raised him to be an egotistical nothing who cant do anything for himself, so college isn't looking so good. My dad REALLY wants to send him to the army to teach him how to fucking gain some respect and control, which he needs. I hate thinking that everything's changing. What if I'm not ready?
Even if I'm not, I'll try my fucking hardest to be.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Confession #1
Okay, so I decided that since this is a blog, and it's called My Journal, I'm going to be writing confessions here to get them off my chest, or to just really explain myself. I don't know, it's a Journal blog! I think it'll help just blow off steam.
Confession #1--
I am openly bisexual
Well, duh, that's sort of a no-brainer since it's on my profile and such, but no, I'm writing this for a reason. Okay, so my friend Hannah, who also has a blog, has a really really Christian father, who is severely homophobic and judgmental. I've only met him a handful of times and I already really dislike him (not saying hate, Hannah will probably read this) and he's just horrible. So, my friend Hannah is bisexual, too. We talk a lot about our sexualities, we're really close friends. She was telling me about how her mom knows and is okay that she's bisexual, but not her father.
Now, I've been out to my parents since about January. My friend Rushnie and my aunt already knew, so they were pushing me to tell them since about three months prior, and finally I just called my mom and told her I had something to tell her. That night she came into my room at midnight (oh, my mom...) and lay on my bed, asking me what was up. So I told her I like guys AND girls, and my mom being my mom turned it into 20 Questions. But, in the end, she was completely fine with it. The next day my dad found out and said "Oh, okay, cool." My dad doesn't care, one of his best friends is gay, and really my mom's best friend is gay too, so they are really anti-homophobe. So, coming out for me wasn't a huge deal. It was terrifying, but it worked out in the end.
So my friend Hannah's been having a little trouble with her sexuality now. Not that she's questioning it, but now it's a topic of discussion with her dad. She finally told him and what does that motherfucker do?
"It's just puberty, you're straight."
......
No, asshole, fuck you. She's bisexual, don't blame it on puberty! I'm bisexual, too, and I know I am for sure. It's not a phase, it's who we are! Don't blame anything for it, it's just us. We are bi, accept it. Some girls like guys AND girls. Get the FUCK over it. He represents just about EVERYTHING I hate, and I hate that she has to live with it. With THAT! That's not fair. It's totally uncalled for and just wrong. People are people are people, and people are different. That's just life.
So, I'm open and out with my sexuality. Out of the closet and smelling the roses, as my gay uncles say. HA! So, I'm trying to help her in any way I can, but this has been bugging me forever! Like, can't he just get the fuck over it? Is it really so insulting your daughter could like boys and girls? So what if the bible isn't for the gays? Gay people, or as I like to call them, people are just as good and nice and wholesome as straight people. I can't see the difference, because there isn't one. So, I'm sorry that your daughter's bisexual and you can't fucking get your nose out of that damn book and realize it's not a bad thing, because you're just a horrible judgmental man that I hope never has to upset his daughter ever again. Hannah's my family, and in my family, we don't tolerate hatred or ignorance. Which is, from what I've heard, what he dishes out regularly. Fucking asshole.
I'm openly bisexual and proud. It just pisses me off beyond reason that my best friend is bisexual and hiding from her father, not because she's afraid, but because he is.
Confession #1--
I am openly bisexual
Well, duh, that's sort of a no-brainer since it's on my profile and such, but no, I'm writing this for a reason. Okay, so my friend Hannah, who also has a blog, has a really really Christian father, who is severely homophobic and judgmental. I've only met him a handful of times and I already really dislike him (not saying hate, Hannah will probably read this) and he's just horrible. So, my friend Hannah is bisexual, too. We talk a lot about our sexualities, we're really close friends. She was telling me about how her mom knows and is okay that she's bisexual, but not her father.
Now, I've been out to my parents since about January. My friend Rushnie and my aunt already knew, so they were pushing me to tell them since about three months prior, and finally I just called my mom and told her I had something to tell her. That night she came into my room at midnight (oh, my mom...) and lay on my bed, asking me what was up. So I told her I like guys AND girls, and my mom being my mom turned it into 20 Questions. But, in the end, she was completely fine with it. The next day my dad found out and said "Oh, okay, cool." My dad doesn't care, one of his best friends is gay, and really my mom's best friend is gay too, so they are really anti-homophobe. So, coming out for me wasn't a huge deal. It was terrifying, but it worked out in the end.
So my friend Hannah's been having a little trouble with her sexuality now. Not that she's questioning it, but now it's a topic of discussion with her dad. She finally told him and what does that motherfucker do?
"It's just puberty, you're straight."
......
No, asshole, fuck you. She's bisexual, don't blame it on puberty! I'm bisexual, too, and I know I am for sure. It's not a phase, it's who we are! Don't blame anything for it, it's just us. We are bi, accept it. Some girls like guys AND girls. Get the FUCK over it. He represents just about EVERYTHING I hate, and I hate that she has to live with it. With THAT! That's not fair. It's totally uncalled for and just wrong. People are people are people, and people are different. That's just life.
So, I'm open and out with my sexuality. Out of the closet and smelling the roses, as my gay uncles say. HA! So, I'm trying to help her in any way I can, but this has been bugging me forever! Like, can't he just get the fuck over it? Is it really so insulting your daughter could like boys and girls? So what if the bible isn't for the gays? Gay people, or as I like to call them, people are just as good and nice and wholesome as straight people. I can't see the difference, because there isn't one. So, I'm sorry that your daughter's bisexual and you can't fucking get your nose out of that damn book and realize it's not a bad thing, because you're just a horrible judgmental man that I hope never has to upset his daughter ever again. Hannah's my family, and in my family, we don't tolerate hatred or ignorance. Which is, from what I've heard, what he dishes out regularly. Fucking asshole.
I'm openly bisexual and proud. It just pisses me off beyond reason that my best friend is bisexual and hiding from her father, not because she's afraid, but because he is.
You're Beautiful to Me
Recently, my aunt went through this surgery where they band her stomach to help her lose weight. She's been overweight all her life, and she's been teased and picked on for it. She's really happy to have gotten this surgery, saying how she'll become thin like me (even though I'm not really all that skinny) and smiling all the time. Everyone is so proud of her, and so happy, and I'm glad she's satisfied, but really, I don't think she needs it.
Have you ever had that one person who you knew would be there for you through anything? That person who you could cry to and tell all your secrets, trust them completely? Have you ever loved someone so much and let them take care of you when everyone else seemed so adamant to ignore your entire existence? Maybe for you it's a husband, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, sibling, whatever. For me, it's my aunt. Whenever I needed her, which I did a lot growing up in my household, she was always there for me. Without question or regret. She never judged me, and held me when I cried, letting me know she was always there for me whenever I should need her. She's always had my back, and told me how important I was, how smart and kind. I never believed her, but she'd never stop saying it. She was--and is--my true mother ever since my own one starting forgetting about me. Even though me and my actual mom are close(ish) now, my aunt will always, always be my mother. It doesn't matter who you live with, who your parents are are the people who loved and raised you. That is my aunt.
When she told me about this surgery, she was so excited. She was so happy to finally lose all the weight she's had all her life. I can totally understand that, and I accepted it too. I know what it's like to want to lose weight, I can relate to it. I was happy for her! I wanted her to be happy, she deserves a life of luxury and then some, in my opinion. But then I realized it wasn't for actually losing the weight, she got the surgery so she could feel pretty.
My aunt is a 52 year old married woman. She's always smiling and can talk and have everyone's attention in less than a second. Truly, she's a captivating woman. Finding out she didn't think herself as that made me so upset. I mean, doesn't she realize that she's such an amazing person? She's done so well, gone through so much already, doesn't she know that she's gorgeous as she is? Maybe she's not thin, but she is so kind, and so smart, and so loving that anyone who actually gives a fuck about her weight and not her as a person should be shot dead. She's just like me--she was an outcast growing up too. I can understand why she wants this surgery for the reason she did, but does it truly matter?
My aunt will never change in my eyes. She'll always be the hero that got me through everything. She'll be the friend I always had when I needed her, the person I could always laugh with, and the one I could and will always go to when I need advice or help. She shaped me into the person I am today. No other person has had such an effect on me, not like my aunt. I'll never forget anything she's done for me, ever. If I do, then I haven't done her justice. My aunt, no matter skinny or not, will always be my hero. She'll never have a lower place just because of how she thinks she looks. She's beautiful to me, and even if she doesn't see it, I do. She's one of the most beautiful people in this disgusting world we live in, simply because she isn't afraid to be herself, and is always so willing to help the people she loves. She may think she isn't, but she's beautiful, at least to me. <3
Have you ever had that one person who you knew would be there for you through anything? That person who you could cry to and tell all your secrets, trust them completely? Have you ever loved someone so much and let them take care of you when everyone else seemed so adamant to ignore your entire existence? Maybe for you it's a husband, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, sibling, whatever. For me, it's my aunt. Whenever I needed her, which I did a lot growing up in my household, she was always there for me. Without question or regret. She never judged me, and held me when I cried, letting me know she was always there for me whenever I should need her. She's always had my back, and told me how important I was, how smart and kind. I never believed her, but she'd never stop saying it. She was--and is--my true mother ever since my own one starting forgetting about me. Even though me and my actual mom are close(ish) now, my aunt will always, always be my mother. It doesn't matter who you live with, who your parents are are the people who loved and raised you. That is my aunt.
When she told me about this surgery, she was so excited. She was so happy to finally lose all the weight she's had all her life. I can totally understand that, and I accepted it too. I know what it's like to want to lose weight, I can relate to it. I was happy for her! I wanted her to be happy, she deserves a life of luxury and then some, in my opinion. But then I realized it wasn't for actually losing the weight, she got the surgery so she could feel pretty.
My aunt is a 52 year old married woman. She's always smiling and can talk and have everyone's attention in less than a second. Truly, she's a captivating woman. Finding out she didn't think herself as that made me so upset. I mean, doesn't she realize that she's such an amazing person? She's done so well, gone through so much already, doesn't she know that she's gorgeous as she is? Maybe she's not thin, but she is so kind, and so smart, and so loving that anyone who actually gives a fuck about her weight and not her as a person should be shot dead. She's just like me--she was an outcast growing up too. I can understand why she wants this surgery for the reason she did, but does it truly matter?
My aunt will never change in my eyes. She'll always be the hero that got me through everything. She'll be the friend I always had when I needed her, the person I could always laugh with, and the one I could and will always go to when I need advice or help. She shaped me into the person I am today. No other person has had such an effect on me, not like my aunt. I'll never forget anything she's done for me, ever. If I do, then I haven't done her justice. My aunt, no matter skinny or not, will always be my hero. She'll never have a lower place just because of how she thinks she looks. She's beautiful to me, and even if she doesn't see it, I do. She's one of the most beautiful people in this disgusting world we live in, simply because she isn't afraid to be herself, and is always so willing to help the people she loves. She may think she isn't, but she's beautiful, at least to me. <3
Friday, August 12, 2011
Pariah in a Band Shirt
I honestly don't know which is worse, being totally ignored or being everybody's pushover. I suppose being everyone's pushover, because when you're alone, it's just you. Nothing's there to hurt you, laugh at you, nothing but you and you're thoughts. But thoughts are hazardous too, right? It doesn't matter, both are poisonous in their own respect. I hate being pushed around, I hate that, for some reason, there's something about me that makes no one want to give me a chance. Ever. Which I guess wouldn't be so bad if that person who SHOULD be giving me a chance actually fucking knew me, but no, the people who've decided I'm just another source of amusement are the fucking douche-bags I have to see at work. They work with me and every day, without fail, I'm ridiculed, teased, or shunned in some way. It's exactly like a school clique, and I'm the bitch in the back corner of the class that no one wants to talk to because she wears a Misfits teeshirt and is into dark clothing. It's exactly like that. And this has been going on for the past seven weeks. Fuck. My. Life.
Today I actually broke down on my best friend's shoulder. In the middle of EVERYONE because I just couldn't fucking take it anymore. How fucking weak is that? Like, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love Hannah to death, but still, that must have been so awkward. And before I cried on her shoulder, I had to leave the group I work with and go to the nurse because I didn't want to cry in front of them. I took some Tylenol because usually that numbs me down, but no, of course that didn't work today. And then on the way back, because I fucking had to go back, my brother saw me walking and saw I was upset. He pulled me aside and actually let me cry to him what was wrong, and, by God, he actually hugged me. There are moments that I adore my brother. And then I got home and my mom and I had a heart-to-heart about it and I cried to her too. My eyes are hurting from all of it, this can't be healthy. Anyway, I just feel bad for imposing on everyone like I did, I don't have the right to make them listen to me complain. It's not their fault I couldn't handle all of it, I should have been able to. I should have kept to myself, and I feel horrible for making them feel bad for me. Either way, I am so not looking forward to work on Monday...
Today I actually broke down on my best friend's shoulder. In the middle of EVERYONE because I just couldn't fucking take it anymore. How fucking weak is that? Like, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love Hannah to death, but still, that must have been so awkward. And before I cried on her shoulder, I had to leave the group I work with and go to the nurse because I didn't want to cry in front of them. I took some Tylenol because usually that numbs me down, but no, of course that didn't work today. And then on the way back, because I fucking had to go back, my brother saw me walking and saw I was upset. He pulled me aside and actually let me cry to him what was wrong, and, by God, he actually hugged me. There are moments that I adore my brother. And then I got home and my mom and I had a heart-to-heart about it and I cried to her too. My eyes are hurting from all of it, this can't be healthy. Anyway, I just feel bad for imposing on everyone like I did, I don't have the right to make them listen to me complain. It's not their fault I couldn't handle all of it, I should have been able to. I should have kept to myself, and I feel horrible for making them feel bad for me. Either way, I am so not looking forward to work on Monday...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Pretty Much Me
This is my first blog post on here--my friend recommended it to me. She told me that it was a good way to rant about stuff, get it off your chest. That's pretty much what I need. So, my name is Francesca, I'm 14, bisexual, and without music and a select group of people I wouldn't have lived past the age of 12, and that's fact. Here's some stuff about me:
Well, I grew up in a family of four in a pretty rich neighborhood, which sounds nice to an outsider but was complete hell for me. My childhood was awful. We were bankrupt and we lost our house, so we now rent a small one, but at least its something, and I like this house. My parents were violent to each other, threatening divorce and screaming and fighting every day for hours on end. This started when I was around 6. I remember hiding in my laundry room holding some bear I had at the time crying as I heard my dad threaten divorce for the like ninth time that day. Anyway my dad wasn't home a lot because he had to go on business trips, which really sucked for me because when my dad was gone it was almost worse then when he was there. My mom hated me growing up, she always favored my older brother. She never spoke to me and always ignored me, only really acknowledging me to yell at me for something I didn't do that my brother had blamed me for or to tell me how useless I was. She was always on my brother's side. My brother would beat me up and tell me how unwanted I was every day. It didn't take long before I started believing him. When my dad was home, my brother didn't beat me up as much and my mom didn't yell at me, but she still neglected me. My dad however would at least smile at me sometimes and even though he also loved my brother best, he didn't shun me like my mom. See, they loved my brother most because he was athletic and got good grades. I got decent grades (can you expect much from an 8 year old?) but I couldn't live up to the expectations they set for me. I was around eight when they both started neglecting me completely, and that's when the depression set in. If it weren't for my aunt Tina, I can tell you I wouldn't be here right now. Every night from when the depression started, I called her up at night and just cried to her on the phone. She was my mom at the time, and really she still is. I'd go over to her house when my parents were too busy for me and I'd just sit there and cry on her shoulder until she could calm me down. She was the one who kept me sane for the next five years after that. Nothing really changed for those five years, but they just got more violent. My brother liked using me as a punching bag, and he really knows how to punch since he's taken martial arts since he was like four. My dad's even roughed me up a few times. I had no self-esteem and I absolutely hated myself for everything, I just was a huge fuck up. I pretty much ate myself into oblivion too, I was really heavy as a kid. Anyway I was 13 and I was suicidal and my depression escalated really badly. What was worse was I, admittedly, fell in love with my friend Olivia, who's bisexual/lesbian (I'm not sure which), and she broke my heart. I don't think she knows she did, I'm sure she had no idea how I felt about her, but I was crushed. So then I was planning on overdosing on any pills I could find, but my aunt found out about it. She tried to get me to rethink everything, but I was so sure at the time. It didn't help that my dad had had enough of me, to the point where he told me that he'd be happy if I just went away. THAT was the final straw. But I decided that I was gonna tell my parents, sort of as a final test. If they cared or not whether I was planning on taking my life. So I told them, and my mom was totally void of emotion. She wasn't sad, or shocked, she just looked like she didn't care. Same with my dad. I was absolutely horrified that they didn't even apologize or something, or even just SHOW any remorse or anything! I mean, who's even like that? Anyway, I went to school the next day completely distraught and my English teacher, Mr. Sorensen, noticed and took me aside. I didn't tell him much, but from the little I told him he looked so sorry for me. He told me that he was sorry and he hugged me. He was the closest thing I had to a dad, and I'd only known him for a few months. My dad had only comforted me like that like once, and that was really special to me, but it never happened ever again. So with my English teacher and my aunt in mind, along with a few friends, I just sort of drowned myself in music. I pretty much blocked everything out. I didn't care; if I didn't hear it, then I didn't have to deal with it. Music taught me a lot. I got more confidence from looking up to my heroes, listening to their advice and their songs. I can't listen to a My Chemical Romance song without feeling better now. Same with Green Day and Black Veil Brides. My reason for living really became music. It took me a long time, a VERY long time, but I started getting over my past and just kept drowning myself in music. One day, I guess my dad realized that I was a complete wreck, and he finally apologized for everything. He told me he as suicidal growing up too, and he was sorry for everything I went through. My dad became my best friend. He still is. My mom came around a lot later, after my dad forced us to go on a walk together to ''sort ourselves out'' and I told her basically she was a horrible mother and a complete bitch, etc. She started crying, and she apologized too. I can't say I exactly trust my mom, but I don't hate her anymore. Me and my brother have a better relationship now, but we still pretty much argue all the time. So now, in short: Me and my parents are okay, my brother and I are ''alright'', and my aunt will always be the person I look to, for anything I need. Once I moved on from my childhood, I got a lot less bitter and angry. I'm still depressed, but I'm no longer suicidal and I'm happier a lot now. But the depression comes back sometimes, it doesn't happen very often, but when it does it hits hard. I can barely really even talk to anyone without breaking down completely. Depression wiped every emotion from my face, I still smile and laugh, but to me, even if it's genuine, the emotions look forced, fake. I feel totally ugly and horrified to just even be myself sometimes. That's what my past made me. No matter how much I can lie to myself and say I've gotten over my past, I truly haven't, not completely. When you're suicidal at the age of nine, shit's bound to stick with you. It's like scars that never go away; they've healed, but they're still there.
I know it's a pretty sad story, but I'm actually pretty happy. I still love going out with my friends, listening to music, dreaming, writing, joking around. I'm not all woe-is-me, I'm actually really upbeat and content. I just know more than most people about regret, and sadness, and being hopeless. Everything's better now, and I try to help out my friends who go through things like I did, so things can get better for them too. Even if we're upset, we always bring each other up, make each other smile. Music put that smile back on my face. No matter how many times it's been said, it's true. Music saved my life. Music helped me grow out of suicide and self-loathing. I'm better than I've ever been, and it's all thanks to the people who put their music out there to help people like me, and the friends I made that thought I was worth it <3 I'll never, ever forget that.
So that's pretty much my life. Kinda deep, and a long-ass read, but that's all of it. Now you know more than 98% of the people that know me do :D Hope this means we can be friends and stuff.
Well, I grew up in a family of four in a pretty rich neighborhood, which sounds nice to an outsider but was complete hell for me. My childhood was awful. We were bankrupt and we lost our house, so we now rent a small one, but at least its something, and I like this house. My parents were violent to each other, threatening divorce and screaming and fighting every day for hours on end. This started when I was around 6. I remember hiding in my laundry room holding some bear I had at the time crying as I heard my dad threaten divorce for the like ninth time that day. Anyway my dad wasn't home a lot because he had to go on business trips, which really sucked for me because when my dad was gone it was almost worse then when he was there. My mom hated me growing up, she always favored my older brother. She never spoke to me and always ignored me, only really acknowledging me to yell at me for something I didn't do that my brother had blamed me for or to tell me how useless I was. She was always on my brother's side. My brother would beat me up and tell me how unwanted I was every day. It didn't take long before I started believing him. When my dad was home, my brother didn't beat me up as much and my mom didn't yell at me, but she still neglected me. My dad however would at least smile at me sometimes and even though he also loved my brother best, he didn't shun me like my mom. See, they loved my brother most because he was athletic and got good grades. I got decent grades (can you expect much from an 8 year old?) but I couldn't live up to the expectations they set for me. I was around eight when they both started neglecting me completely, and that's when the depression set in. If it weren't for my aunt Tina, I can tell you I wouldn't be here right now. Every night from when the depression started, I called her up at night and just cried to her on the phone. She was my mom at the time, and really she still is. I'd go over to her house when my parents were too busy for me and I'd just sit there and cry on her shoulder until she could calm me down. She was the one who kept me sane for the next five years after that. Nothing really changed for those five years, but they just got more violent. My brother liked using me as a punching bag, and he really knows how to punch since he's taken martial arts since he was like four. My dad's even roughed me up a few times. I had no self-esteem and I absolutely hated myself for everything, I just was a huge fuck up. I pretty much ate myself into oblivion too, I was really heavy as a kid. Anyway I was 13 and I was suicidal and my depression escalated really badly. What was worse was I, admittedly, fell in love with my friend Olivia, who's bisexual/lesbian (I'm not sure which), and she broke my heart. I don't think she knows she did, I'm sure she had no idea how I felt about her, but I was crushed. So then I was planning on overdosing on any pills I could find, but my aunt found out about it. She tried to get me to rethink everything, but I was so sure at the time. It didn't help that my dad had had enough of me, to the point where he told me that he'd be happy if I just went away. THAT was the final straw. But I decided that I was gonna tell my parents, sort of as a final test. If they cared or not whether I was planning on taking my life. So I told them, and my mom was totally void of emotion. She wasn't sad, or shocked, she just looked like she didn't care. Same with my dad. I was absolutely horrified that they didn't even apologize or something, or even just SHOW any remorse or anything! I mean, who's even like that? Anyway, I went to school the next day completely distraught and my English teacher, Mr. Sorensen, noticed and took me aside. I didn't tell him much, but from the little I told him he looked so sorry for me. He told me that he was sorry and he hugged me. He was the closest thing I had to a dad, and I'd only known him for a few months. My dad had only comforted me like that like once, and that was really special to me, but it never happened ever again. So with my English teacher and my aunt in mind, along with a few friends, I just sort of drowned myself in music. I pretty much blocked everything out. I didn't care; if I didn't hear it, then I didn't have to deal with it. Music taught me a lot. I got more confidence from looking up to my heroes, listening to their advice and their songs. I can't listen to a My Chemical Romance song without feeling better now. Same with Green Day and Black Veil Brides. My reason for living really became music. It took me a long time, a VERY long time, but I started getting over my past and just kept drowning myself in music. One day, I guess my dad realized that I was a complete wreck, and he finally apologized for everything. He told me he as suicidal growing up too, and he was sorry for everything I went through. My dad became my best friend. He still is. My mom came around a lot later, after my dad forced us to go on a walk together to ''sort ourselves out'' and I told her basically she was a horrible mother and a complete bitch, etc. She started crying, and she apologized too. I can't say I exactly trust my mom, but I don't hate her anymore. Me and my brother have a better relationship now, but we still pretty much argue all the time. So now, in short: Me and my parents are okay, my brother and I are ''alright'', and my aunt will always be the person I look to, for anything I need. Once I moved on from my childhood, I got a lot less bitter and angry. I'm still depressed, but I'm no longer suicidal and I'm happier a lot now. But the depression comes back sometimes, it doesn't happen very often, but when it does it hits hard. I can barely really even talk to anyone without breaking down completely. Depression wiped every emotion from my face, I still smile and laugh, but to me, even if it's genuine, the emotions look forced, fake. I feel totally ugly and horrified to just even be myself sometimes. That's what my past made me. No matter how much I can lie to myself and say I've gotten over my past, I truly haven't, not completely. When you're suicidal at the age of nine, shit's bound to stick with you. It's like scars that never go away; they've healed, but they're still there.
I know it's a pretty sad story, but I'm actually pretty happy. I still love going out with my friends, listening to music, dreaming, writing, joking around. I'm not all woe-is-me, I'm actually really upbeat and content. I just know more than most people about regret, and sadness, and being hopeless. Everything's better now, and I try to help out my friends who go through things like I did, so things can get better for them too. Even if we're upset, we always bring each other up, make each other smile. Music put that smile back on my face. No matter how many times it's been said, it's true. Music saved my life. Music helped me grow out of suicide and self-loathing. I'm better than I've ever been, and it's all thanks to the people who put their music out there to help people like me, and the friends I made that thought I was worth it <3 I'll never, ever forget that.
So that's pretty much my life. Kinda deep, and a long-ass read, but that's all of it. Now you know more than 98% of the people that know me do :D Hope this means we can be friends and stuff.
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