Living in this disconnect...
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
I'm terrified. I've only gotten worse and doing the research just proves it's not looking good. I've ican hardly handle things now, I don't want to even think of a year from now. I don't know who I am or what I'm doing anymore. I really don't. I feel like I'm ruining all of the good things for myself and even for my best friend. I'm so sick and broken that I'm shitting on her feelings. I wish that she could be happier. I love her. What is wrong with me. What can I do now. I'm sick.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
There is not one day that goes by where I don't cry anymore. It's been this way for a year, pretty much, and I can't do it anymore. I wish I could be a better person. I wish I didn't hate myself so much. I've never hated anyone more. I remember when I was little and you used to hold me. When you used to love me. I wish I could go back to then. When I had a mother. When I felt like I was going to have that through everything. Now I see that my dreams will never come true. That no one cares about the milestones. I remember thinking you'd come back. My senior year, I thought you'd try to find me so you could see me graduate. No one came, not even Dad or Pam. I'm not supposed to feel the love of family. And I will grow old, alone, never to have a family of my own. Never knowing the love I thought I had when I was 3. My heart is broken into so many pieces, that loving myself is impossible. I hate myself this much because if you didn't want me, why should I want to be me. You're the reason I seriously wish for death each day. All I want anymore is for my jealousy to end. I don't want to be this hideous person anymore, with my hideous thoughts. I deserve nothing. This is all my fault. My existence is the reason everything got completely fucked up so soon. Everyone showed me what a disgrace I am and I can't blame them. I'm a fucking piece of shit.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The fake happiness walls I put up have crumbled.
That was short-lived. I'm sitting alone and realizing where all the money I made went. Paying for everything for almost the past seven years really stresses me out, with the exception of where I lived, aka "my parents'", for my senior year. I need money. I'm scared because I want to give up everyday. And now I'm scared to go to work because I'm not a strong enough person. I want to just rest easy, but I need another job. I want to go to school, but I'll still need to work quite a bit, so I can gain some comfort. I don't want to fall behind or completely shit on college. I know that I can get aid, but I want to save money as soon as I can. I wish I didn't cry so much. The more I do, the less I feel I can hold back. The less strength I feel like I have. I go through most days fighting with whether I want to keep, well, fighting. I wish I didn't, trust me. I just want a place to call home, where I don't have to worry.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
I'm dumb.
On the train home after, what was supposed to be, a good night. It all seemed okay at first, but as it progressed, I realized that I wasn't special. Only time that holding my hand or flirting was apparently okay, was when his friend(s) looked away. But I disregarded it because I wanted to pretend like I was worth something. Like I was a prize to be won or he felt the need to show me off. I wasn't and of course, he didn't. I'm just that insecure, desperate piece of shit who doesn't know how to not fuck a guy during the first hang out. I'm so sick to my stomach because of that. And because I thought things would be different. I wish I could've just kept my gaurd up. I wish that the grounds I stand on, didn't always crumble. I always criticize, hate, talk shit about girls like me. I realize that I have no room to talk. I never do. The walk from the bus to the train was an 11 minute one. As I headed to the train, a woman in a BMW convertable with three dogs, pulled up & told me to get in. I denied her, but she went on to say that she's a rape counselor and that although that neigborhood wasn't horrible, being in the dark was the worst idea for me. So, I got in, mostly because I love pups and she was persistant either way. I'm grateful for that part of my night. To know that someone actually cared about my well-being was a great feeling. I know my friends care, for damn sure, but everyone I came into contact with didn't give two shits.
Monday, June 27, 2011
I'm trying to become more optimistic. I'm trying to force myself to be happy. It's the hardest thing ever because something always has to stand in my way. Something always has to crumble my entire foundation, then I have to rebuild myself up again. If it weren't for some, my foundation wouldn't improve little by little. It would always have this disgustingly atrocious crack that nothing could be supported on. I wouldn't have time to even think about making the inside presentable or even keeping the dust from settling so thick on each surface. A lot of what's wrong is the amount of time I spend trying to make sure the emptiness of it isn't seen by the passersby, or that my welcome rug is littered by the mud from the unloving's shoes. That there is comfort inside and beauty that greets you from within. That there's the glow of smiles on the windowpanes. When each monumental moment comes around, there is an aroma of love, caring and a sureness that this is what life is supposed to be like. I don't want there to be this dark cloud over the estate of my life forever. I want there to be an inviting smile at each entryway. A hug of friendship and welcomeness when you stop by to say hello. This old house is mine and each foundation gets better than the last. If I keep remembering that, then it will stay standing strong for years to come, new plaster, new floors, new visitors and all.
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