Saturday 28 April 2012
Friday 27 April 2012
Wednesday 25 April 2012
Tuesday 24 April 2012
My thoughts.
My mother was schizophrenic. I've been told that schizophrenia is hereditary. I'm worried.
I've now labelled myself as a 'freak', after so long of not knowing what I am.
I did three (or more..) courageous things today.
I'm incredibly restless.
I got kicked out of class (for the first time in my life) yesterday, because of my restlessness.
I got a pink balloon today. It made me happy. Today was a happy day, besides the circumstances.
*sigh*
I wonder how much I eat in a day..
I've now labelled myself as a 'freak', after so long of not knowing what I am.
I did three (or more..) courageous things today.
I'm incredibly restless.
I got kicked out of class (for the first time in my life) yesterday, because of my restlessness.
I got a pink balloon today. It made me happy. Today was a happy day, besides the circumstances.
*sigh*
I wonder how much I eat in a day..
Monday 23 April 2012
I'm such a freak ^.^
Cleaning my left ear makes me cough.
If I keep my bed in the same spot for too long, I have more trouble getting to sleep than if I move it around my bedroom often.
I'm currently in the process of reading three different books.
I actually like pink.
I contradict myself a lot.
I actually only started looking people in the eyes when I'm talking to them, or when they're talking to me, when a cop was asking me a whole bunch of questions after I was molested.
I'm terrified of swimming in dark waters. Absolutely terrified.
My bedtime is actually 10:30.
I have NO bloody idea what I'm doing with my life.
I get really worried when people don't text me back, and I get worried that I pissed them off.
I don't know where I'm going with this.
If I keep my bed in the same spot for too long, I have more trouble getting to sleep than if I move it around my bedroom often.
I'm currently in the process of reading three different books.
I actually like pink.
I contradict myself a lot.
I actually only started looking people in the eyes when I'm talking to them, or when they're talking to me, when a cop was asking me a whole bunch of questions after I was molested.
I'm terrified of swimming in dark waters. Absolutely terrified.
My bedtime is actually 10:30.
I have NO bloody idea what I'm doing with my life.
I get really worried when people don't text me back, and I get worried that I pissed them off.
I don't know where I'm going with this.
Sunday 22 April 2012
Saturday 21 April 2012
Erm...
BY the way, <I love that song..> when I say "you" on here, it can mean, like, two different people sometimes. Like, when I said "I also have you", I meant someone different than when I said "Yeah, you know who it is, don't tell". Because.. yeah.. I'm just like that. Sorry. If that.. makes sense at all. Eff, I must stop checking my phone every five seconds ._.
Liife Story.
This is for my amazing friend, who doesn't realize how fucking incredible he is.
I don’t understand the downsides of cutting. I don’t. Cutting is bad for some strange reason. We aren’t allowed to shed our blood, to cause ourselves pain, because it’s sick and just isn’t right. But it’s okay to make yourself deaf by listening to music to make yourself feel better. You don’t hear people complaining about how listening to music is bad (referring to the release of emotions you feel when listening to music you connect with and fully describes your mood and predicament). Yeah, sure, you bleed when you cut. Listening to music loud enough to satisfy your emotional needs harms your eardrums. Watch, I’m trying to rationalize bring harm to yourself, mutilating and cutting yourself to pieces. Slashing every inch of your flesh, watching the crimson red blood flow freely out your every cut, every slice and wound in your skin. But it’s okay to make yourself deaf by listening to music to make yourself feel better. It’s okay to become dependant on therapists to feel better, you can’t rely on yourself to relieve pressure. Not saying that music isn't a good thing, though.. So, here’s my life story. Mostly just the worse parts. My mother told me that when I was born, I weighed 4lbs, 6oz. She told me that the doctor called me "the healthiest bone bag that he's ever seen." : ) My mother and father divorced when I was three, so my two siblings and I visited our father every second weekend. Our mother remarried a waste of flesh by the name of… let’s call him ‘L’. Our house burnt down on the farm, we lost everything. Later our father remarried a lady who’ll go by the name of ‘D’. D has three children: two daughters and one son. The daughters are snobs, the son… eh, he wants to fuck me. (Person who's name starts with a "D"? Yeah, you know who it is, don't tell.)So L was a drug and alcohol addict, and he died a few weeks ago. He verbally abused my siblings and me, and one particular memory I have of him was throwing a mop at me javelin-style. I dodged it, though. Also, he pulled the keys out of the car just as my mother was turning onto a highway, resulting in a car barely missing hitting our car. He touched my sister inappropriately and ordered my mother around. He cuddled me. When he was naked. Immediately after I got out of a bath or shower. My mom, as a result, to all the stress from him and her children, turned more heavily onto cigarettes and alcohol, barely eating, having a terrible time sleeping, with nightmares and all. As a small ignorant child, I ignored all this, saying to myself, “She’ll get better, she’ll get better.” As my mother got skinnier and skinnier, sicker and sicker, my sister moved out of the house and into town because of L. Being as we lived in the middle of nowhere, she couldn’t just go stay at a friend’s or anything…. My brother moved out a few years later as well, for the same reason. I thought L was alright, after all, I was a little ignorant child who was easily convinced as such. Random fact: I hit my head on things a lot. There was one time where I was running up the stairs, and turned the corner when I got to the top. My long, braided hair caught on the window blinds that were next to me. My feet flew up, my head stayed where it was, and I landed on the floor, flat on my back. My mom started laughing. >.< My brother, only hearing me scream and a loud thump, rushed up from downstairs, and started asking me if I was okay. : ) Another story: My mom had just put my long hair in a loose bun on the back of my head. I noticed it would flop if I flung my head down. I was sitting in front of a table. I threw my head down, my hair flopped up, I -slammed- my head onto the solid oak table. Ouch. Anyway, I spent much of my time outside, in forts, on walks.. I had a best friend who lived half a mile from my house, so I visited a LOT. I also went over to my other neighbours’s a lot, where we jumped on the trampoline and played on the haybales. One calm, peaceful night, we were hanging out, as usual. He’s as old as my brother. I got bored jumping on the tramp, so I asked, “Can we go jump on the bales?” In response, he offered, “Will you do anything?” Me, being a fucking ignorant child, agreed, “Anything”. We, of course, went and jumped and bounded on the hay bales, from one end of the long stretch to the other. He got bored, and wanted his end of the deal to be fulfilled. We sauntered back to the tramp then, and I resumed bouncing and bouncing and bouncing, as he lay on the cool grass beside the tramp. He proceeded to persuade me to lay beside him, which I eventually gave in and did. We laid there, side by side, the mildly damp grass gently scratching and cooling our backsides, gazing at the stars above. He softly placed his hand over my mouth, climbed on me, his legs split and bent at the knees to place his *cough* crotch over mine. He pinned down my arms above my head, and began to edge his hand further and further down my pants.. In visitations to my father’s, my two step sisters raided my belongings and took as they pleased. They verbally abused me as well, occasional physical abusing. My step mother and I didn’t really get along.. Enough said. So life went on like that for a while. I went from strongly disliking going to my father’s, to it wasn’t so bad, to silently resenting L. Let’s skip to where I move into my father’s house, directly across the school. My brother later told me how much I had upset my mom by doing that, by moving out without any notice. So, one night, when Mom and L were in town, I called my father and he came (ha, he came) and got my cat and I. We went Dad’s house, and everything proceeded as normal. It was a little odd being there on that day, it had a different feel, a different vibe to it than normal. So I went to school as normal, Mom took the cat back the next day. The next time I had communication with her after my moving was at least 3 weeks after. I felt so guilty.. So I started to have visitations with my mother, going out there every few weekends, whenever. I started to stop going out there.. I stopped calling her so frequently.. I stopped pretty much all communication with her. I felt that I was taking too much of her time, that I was a burden, and the time she spent taking care of me she could be spending taking care of herself. I just tried to focus all my time on.. anything else. Life went on. I had two friends at my school, one of which wasn’t in my grade, the other I barely talked to. I just sat there in the classroom, listening, silently observing. I got along better with the guys than I did with the girls, though. I always have. I passed all my classes with an average average. (<–intentional repetition). I started to get attracted to darkness and bleakness, but not really showing it. Skipping ahead, to a few weeks before September. My mom got considerably worse in health, and had frequent trips to the hospital. She finally ended up staying in the hospital, yellow as ever. Which reminds me of the time where we went out together, and she bought me glasses. The exact ones I have right now, I think….. Maybe? No? I don’t know, and it depresses me because I can’t remember ._. But while my mom and I were walking to the optometrist, I commented on how strangely yellow she looked. She, knowing that it was probably the beginnings of jaundice, got concerned.. But skipping back to my mother in the hospital, my sister then made the comment, “You’ve looked like you’ve aged 50 years from the last time I saw you..” I brought our doll to her, Sweetest Cow. She kissed the doll, and snuggled up with it. It made me die inside, for it made me reminisce all the times we had played with my dolls together, giving each a voice and unique personality. I didn’t cry. We left shortly thereafter. She got transferred to Red Deer Intensive Care Unit after her first heart attack. We drove there, me silently crying off and on, turning away so no one would see me breakdown.. When we saw her.. One eyelid was barely open, showing her yellowed sclera, ( <--- technical word >:D ) the other eyelid fluttering as the machine forced air into her lungs, forcing her to breathe, her heart to pump. Her deeply tinted yellow skin littered with bruises, discolorations, and dried blood. I was given an unwanted moment alone with her, my mother. The very last moment I ever had with her. I said a few short words, and held back the tears that were burning the edges of my eyes, threatening to burst and show the world how weak I am. The last words I ever said to her? “I love you, mom. Feel better, see ya.” Yeah, talking to an almost corpse, unknowing if she was aware of my last awkward moment with her, wasted. I left then, back to my sister who was waiting patiently in the hall. I spent the next night, along with my sister, with our aunt in a trailer in Red Deer, with plans to go to the hospital in the morning. Well, in the morning, we got a call from the doctors, notifying us of the disheartening fact that she had died ten minutes before from a series of heartattacks. I didn’t cry. The next night, I was screaming, shaking from the force of my cries. The days past, I was either in denial or was numb. Her first birthday without her. First Christmas without her. Nothing had any meaning. School, eat, sleep. School, eat, sleep. I cried sometimes. Sometimes I didn’t. My teacher pulled me aside one day, and mentioned how my grades had dropped drastically after my mom died.. I hadn't noticed. I started with just a little cut, just to try it. I didn’t mean it to go that far, I was only curious. I liked it. I really, really liked it. More, I needed more. I started to crave it, to rely on it, it was everything. Then, my now -only- friend at school cut as well. We fuelled eachother. I started burning too. I smoked, I tried weed. My world was going to hell, I couldn’t seem to breathe without pain. Pain was everything. One night, I took 5 tylenol, 5 advil, some sleeping pills, various other pills, and a fair bit of booze. Suicide attempt #1. Pathetic, eh? I actually can’t remember the other suicide attempts.. I stayed as a recluse in my room. School, room, food, room, sleep. Repeat. Then the eating stopped. Music. I Don’t Care by Apocalyptica. The Bleeding by Five Finger Death Punch. The house set on fire. We lost a bit, the cats got out via my bedroom window. We moved to town, into a house above a pot smoker, whom of which no one got along with but me. I met a boy. Quite literally the best kisser I’ve ever met. (Not like I've kissed many people, anyway : ) He wants absolutely nothing to do with me. He was the cause of me stopping cutting, he really helped.. He made me promise I won’t kill myself, and I will hold true. I now have a bracelet, a lock bracelet, that will hopefully keep me from cutting. I also have you, yes -you- to help me through this. Thank you.
I don’t understand the downsides of cutting. I don’t. Cutting is bad for some strange reason. We aren’t allowed to shed our blood, to cause ourselves pain, because it’s sick and just isn’t right. But it’s okay to make yourself deaf by listening to music to make yourself feel better. You don’t hear people complaining about how listening to music is bad (referring to the release of emotions you feel when listening to music you connect with and fully describes your mood and predicament). Yeah, sure, you bleed when you cut. Listening to music loud enough to satisfy your emotional needs harms your eardrums. Watch, I’m trying to rationalize bring harm to yourself, mutilating and cutting yourself to pieces. Slashing every inch of your flesh, watching the crimson red blood flow freely out your every cut, every slice and wound in your skin. But it’s okay to make yourself deaf by listening to music to make yourself feel better. It’s okay to become dependant on therapists to feel better, you can’t rely on yourself to relieve pressure. Not saying that music isn't a good thing, though.. So, here’s my life story. Mostly just the worse parts. My mother told me that when I was born, I weighed 4lbs, 6oz. She told me that the doctor called me "the healthiest bone bag that he's ever seen." : ) My mother and father divorced when I was three, so my two siblings and I visited our father every second weekend. Our mother remarried a waste of flesh by the name of… let’s call him ‘L’. Our house burnt down on the farm, we lost everything. Later our father remarried a lady who’ll go by the name of ‘D’. D has three children: two daughters and one son. The daughters are snobs, the son… eh, he wants to fuck me. (Person who's name starts with a "D"? Yeah, you know who it is, don't tell.)So L was a drug and alcohol addict, and he died a few weeks ago. He verbally abused my siblings and me, and one particular memory I have of him was throwing a mop at me javelin-style. I dodged it, though. Also, he pulled the keys out of the car just as my mother was turning onto a highway, resulting in a car barely missing hitting our car. He touched my sister inappropriately and ordered my mother around. He cuddled me. When he was naked. Immediately after I got out of a bath or shower. My mom, as a result, to all the stress from him and her children, turned more heavily onto cigarettes and alcohol, barely eating, having a terrible time sleeping, with nightmares and all. As a small ignorant child, I ignored all this, saying to myself, “She’ll get better, she’ll get better.” As my mother got skinnier and skinnier, sicker and sicker, my sister moved out of the house and into town because of L. Being as we lived in the middle of nowhere, she couldn’t just go stay at a friend’s or anything…. My brother moved out a few years later as well, for the same reason. I thought L was alright, after all, I was a little ignorant child who was easily convinced as such. Random fact: I hit my head on things a lot. There was one time where I was running up the stairs, and turned the corner when I got to the top. My long, braided hair caught on the window blinds that were next to me. My feet flew up, my head stayed where it was, and I landed on the floor, flat on my back. My mom started laughing. >.< My brother, only hearing me scream and a loud thump, rushed up from downstairs, and started asking me if I was okay. : ) Another story: My mom had just put my long hair in a loose bun on the back of my head. I noticed it would flop if I flung my head down. I was sitting in front of a table. I threw my head down, my hair flopped up, I -slammed- my head onto the solid oak table. Ouch. Anyway, I spent much of my time outside, in forts, on walks.. I had a best friend who lived half a mile from my house, so I visited a LOT. I also went over to my other neighbours’s a lot, where we jumped on the trampoline and played on the haybales. One calm, peaceful night, we were hanging out, as usual. He’s as old as my brother. I got bored jumping on the tramp, so I asked, “Can we go jump on the bales?” In response, he offered, “Will you do anything?” Me, being a fucking ignorant child, agreed, “Anything”. We, of course, went and jumped and bounded on the hay bales, from one end of the long stretch to the other. He got bored, and wanted his end of the deal to be fulfilled. We sauntered back to the tramp then, and I resumed bouncing and bouncing and bouncing, as he lay on the cool grass beside the tramp. He proceeded to persuade me to lay beside him, which I eventually gave in and did. We laid there, side by side, the mildly damp grass gently scratching and cooling our backsides, gazing at the stars above. He softly placed his hand over my mouth, climbed on me, his legs split and bent at the knees to place his *cough* crotch over mine. He pinned down my arms above my head, and began to edge his hand further and further down my pants.. In visitations to my father’s, my two step sisters raided my belongings and took as they pleased. They verbally abused me as well, occasional physical abusing. My step mother and I didn’t really get along.. Enough said. So life went on like that for a while. I went from strongly disliking going to my father’s, to it wasn’t so bad, to silently resenting L. Let’s skip to where I move into my father’s house, directly across the school. My brother later told me how much I had upset my mom by doing that, by moving out without any notice. So, one night, when Mom and L were in town, I called my father and he came (ha, he came) and got my cat and I. We went Dad’s house, and everything proceeded as normal. It was a little odd being there on that day, it had a different feel, a different vibe to it than normal. So I went to school as normal, Mom took the cat back the next day. The next time I had communication with her after my moving was at least 3 weeks after. I felt so guilty.. So I started to have visitations with my mother, going out there every few weekends, whenever. I started to stop going out there.. I stopped calling her so frequently.. I stopped pretty much all communication with her. I felt that I was taking too much of her time, that I was a burden, and the time she spent taking care of me she could be spending taking care of herself. I just tried to focus all my time on.. anything else. Life went on. I had two friends at my school, one of which wasn’t in my grade, the other I barely talked to. I just sat there in the classroom, listening, silently observing. I got along better with the guys than I did with the girls, though. I always have. I passed all my classes with an average average. (<–intentional repetition). I started to get attracted to darkness and bleakness, but not really showing it. Skipping ahead, to a few weeks before September. My mom got considerably worse in health, and had frequent trips to the hospital. She finally ended up staying in the hospital, yellow as ever. Which reminds me of the time where we went out together, and she bought me glasses. The exact ones I have right now, I think….. Maybe? No? I don’t know, and it depresses me because I can’t remember ._. But while my mom and I were walking to the optometrist, I commented on how strangely yellow she looked. She, knowing that it was probably the beginnings of jaundice, got concerned.. But skipping back to my mother in the hospital, my sister then made the comment, “You’ve looked like you’ve aged 50 years from the last time I saw you..” I brought our doll to her, Sweetest Cow. She kissed the doll, and snuggled up with it. It made me die inside, for it made me reminisce all the times we had played with my dolls together, giving each a voice and unique personality. I didn’t cry. We left shortly thereafter. She got transferred to Red Deer Intensive Care Unit after her first heart attack. We drove there, me silently crying off and on, turning away so no one would see me breakdown.. When we saw her.. One eyelid was barely open, showing her yellowed sclera, ( <--- technical word >:D ) the other eyelid fluttering as the machine forced air into her lungs, forcing her to breathe, her heart to pump. Her deeply tinted yellow skin littered with bruises, discolorations, and dried blood. I was given an unwanted moment alone with her, my mother. The very last moment I ever had with her. I said a few short words, and held back the tears that were burning the edges of my eyes, threatening to burst and show the world how weak I am. The last words I ever said to her? “I love you, mom. Feel better, see ya.” Yeah, talking to an almost corpse, unknowing if she was aware of my last awkward moment with her, wasted. I left then, back to my sister who was waiting patiently in the hall. I spent the next night, along with my sister, with our aunt in a trailer in Red Deer, with plans to go to the hospital in the morning. Well, in the morning, we got a call from the doctors, notifying us of the disheartening fact that she had died ten minutes before from a series of heartattacks. I didn’t cry. The next night, I was screaming, shaking from the force of my cries. The days past, I was either in denial or was numb. Her first birthday without her. First Christmas without her. Nothing had any meaning. School, eat, sleep. School, eat, sleep. I cried sometimes. Sometimes I didn’t. My teacher pulled me aside one day, and mentioned how my grades had dropped drastically after my mom died.. I hadn't noticed. I started with just a little cut, just to try it. I didn’t mean it to go that far, I was only curious. I liked it. I really, really liked it. More, I needed more. I started to crave it, to rely on it, it was everything. Then, my now -only- friend at school cut as well. We fuelled eachother. I started burning too. I smoked, I tried weed. My world was going to hell, I couldn’t seem to breathe without pain. Pain was everything. One night, I took 5 tylenol, 5 advil, some sleeping pills, various other pills, and a fair bit of booze. Suicide attempt #1. Pathetic, eh? I actually can’t remember the other suicide attempts.. I stayed as a recluse in my room. School, room, food, room, sleep. Repeat. Then the eating stopped. Music. I Don’t Care by Apocalyptica. The Bleeding by Five Finger Death Punch. The house set on fire. We lost a bit, the cats got out via my bedroom window. We moved to town, into a house above a pot smoker, whom of which no one got along with but me. I met a boy. Quite literally the best kisser I’ve ever met. (Not like I've kissed many people, anyway : ) He wants absolutely nothing to do with me. He was the cause of me stopping cutting, he really helped.. He made me promise I won’t kill myself, and I will hold true. I now have a bracelet, a lock bracelet, that will hopefully keep me from cutting. I also have you, yes -you- to help me through this. Thank you.
Friday 20 April 2012
Wednesday 18 April 2012
Tuesday 17 April 2012
Monday 16 April 2012
Sunday 15 April 2012
I'll show you mine, you show me your's first.
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you who's is worse... <3
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BblV6AQsd2s
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you who's is worse... <3
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BblV6AQsd2s
Friday 13 April 2012
Saturday 7 April 2012
Random Update.. 4
Friday 6 April 2012
Oh my gosh, so much sneezing!
Well. I've sneezed four times today. I was discussing with a friend our wishes, and one of her wishes was to be 18. I personally don't want to be 18 or older, because of multiple reasons. See, she mainly wanted to be 18 so she didn't have to wait for All Ages Shows. I'm assuming that's a band.. But I told her I'm focusing on school, and her reply was, "I'm not.".. *sigh* While I'm drowning myself with knowledge, notebooks and no social life, my best friend is concerning herself with criminal behaviour, illegal things, not school. Well I suppose that explains my high marks in social. A bloody 100% on a unit test.. Apparently I'm the worst person in the world to confide in. I suck. I have a feeling I'm going to hole up in my room tomorrow when the massive group of people is over. Are over? Is over? Ha, so I fail at "draw something", an ipod app. I fail even more at temple run. meh. I napped from 7-10:30pm yesterday, then stayed awake til 5am. I woke up at 9:50 feeling very refreshed. I didn't come out of my room until after noon, though. I really like my room! Maybe I'll do a panorama of it and show you. Maybe not. But another panorama in Digital wouldn't hurt. So I revamped my lock bracelet after I tore it off last week.
hurray.
It's spring. Why haven't I seen a storm?
Tuesday 3 April 2012
Random Update.. 3
I'm failing as a blogger! Lol, I'm just not posting a lot.. Life is busy and chaotic! So I'm going to clean my room here soon, it's a terrible mess. Kay, so I studied for part of the first class, the next two classes, and lunch. Not just that, I just meant that's all I studied today. What for? The unit test in social immediately after lunch. Now, let's hope I didn't study all that for nothing, and <oh god, so I'm watching danisnotonfire and I just spit all over my lap top because I burst out laughing> let's hope that I don't fail so bad, that I study that much and I still bomb the test. That would be terrible. After <my bracelet lock is seriously rubbing against the lap top when I'm typing fast and it's really loud> the test, I wrote out my entire essay I wrote for English, and then I added a whole bunch more. In English next class though, he said it wasn't due until tomorrow. So I just sat there, in my chair, listening to Tim and the others talk. I could've written more, and I should have, but seriously my brain was dead from last class. And earlier today. So I found five bucks while walking home. That made me happy. In science I was partnered with a brat, which gave me the time to study. Okay, so <I say "so" a lot> Blake Bliss <OMG BLAKE BLISS> messaged me back on youtube <OMG> which made my day again. He smiled! :D I'm going to write him a letter in Flex tomorrow, I will. It's going be in my new notebook :3 I really like that notebook. I wrote seven pages of notes in it for the social test. I'm hungry. I'm listening to a playlist of Blake Bliss.. I should be cleaning my room, I should. I will. Ish.. I'll make my bed and hope for early sleep. I want farm water. I want to run, and act like a child again. That was fun yesterday!! I almost dropped my phone in the toilet again today. I forgot my memory card in the computer in first class yesterday, but fortunately someone turned it in! My gratitude goes out to you! I'm actually thirsty.. I'm going to sign off here, go get some water and OH! I need to buy something pink, asap. I shall sign off now, take care.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)