Hello again, world.
Unfortunately, this is not my review over the movie Beastly.
Why?
Because I’m pissed. My body is literally thrumming with anxiety and fury and a bit of depression.
My friends, the people that I thought I could depend on forever, bashed me in one of my weak moments.
They don’t seem to realize that I’m not the strongest person. The past six months have been hell for me. I lost the man I consider to be my father (though he was my grandfather by name), and then a month later my house burned down, taking everything with it. A month to the day later, the cat killed my hamster. Two-ish weeks later, they demolish our house without informing us. It was supposed to be my closer. And it’s gone. All of it. Now I can’t even salvage anything.
Not only that, but if you haven’t noticed from my occasional self-beatings, I hate myself. I am my own worst enemy. Literally. Every time I say something, that voice is in the back of my mind whispering about how I messed up this or screwed up that. It’s there when I’m smiling, telling me that happiness is an illusion. It’s there when I’m disheartened, feeding my self-loathing. It’s there in my moments of joy and bliss, worming its way in, telling me that I’m doing something wrong, that I shouldn’t be happy. It’s there when I’m headed to lunch or dinner, telling me that I’m fat, that I don’t need to eat, that if I eat, no one will like me because I’m fat. It’s there when I write, crossing out and marking my words with a red pen, leaving nothing untouched. It’s there when I stare in the mirror, telling me that they’re wrong, I’m not beautiful; I’m ugly.
Every guy that has ever called my beautiful has hurt me, be it physically, mentally, or emotionally.
So it any wonder that I’m so skittish around them now, even when I try my best to hide it?
And guys! The voice is always there, always snickering quietly, always and unendingly present when I’m near my guy friends. They don’t like me for me, guys only want sex/to get laid, they only want eye candy. And I know that’s not true. But sometimes the voice raises some valid points, and I can’t dispute them.
It is evident in my lack of sleep, my nightmares, the scars that I picked at while they were healing, the gouges and tears around my nails. It’s there. It’s always there, and if you look close enough, you can see it.
So I don’t understand why they can’t.
Knowing what you know now about my situation, take our conversation into consideration.
I was messing around on my phone, texting my friend Rachel because I was craving a roleplay, and I was thinking about asking her to start up a new one with me on one of our boards. My roommate stopped me and asked who I was texting, so I told her, “Just texted Facebook about our adventure and now I’m texting Rachel.” Our hallmate blinked dumbly, not knowing which Rachel I’d be talking to that late, so I clarified, “My friend Rachel, from California.” And I’m not sure who, though I think it was my roommate, said, “That’s impossible! You don’t have any friends.”
And it hurt.
Five words. Five tiny, insignificant little words, and they cut me to the bone.
I joked back about how “of course I had friends, they were my friends, too”. Then the hallgirl told me that she didn’t have to drive me there. She and my roommate could have left me back at the dorms. They could have left me behind while they went to get their ice cream. They didn’t have to take me, and they didn’t have to take me home either. (And good lord, had they left me there, I would have been in fine form. Would have sat in that shop, called mom and told her everything, then called one of the people I trust to come and get me. Then I would have talked to the Res Hall about moving my roommate out of my room.)
Maybe they realized they’d gone too far.
Suddenly, they were both joking about how they obviously loved me, or they wouldn’t have taken me with them in the first place. Hallgirl drove, after all.
I have my own car. I have gas. I have better music. I am a safer driver. I knew exactly where I was going. I could have driven myself. I could have gone to get the ice cream on my own. I wasn’t really hungry. I was tired and wanted to sleep. I had homework. I had things I could have stayed behind to do. But I didn’t. I figured it would be a good bonding experience. So I went.
And then that happened.
They didn’t seem to notice I was silent the entire way back. They didn’t notice that I was buried in my phone, my lifeline between Rachel, Shawn and I. They didn’t notice I was crying. They didn’t notice.
And if they did, they neither asked, nor made any move to fix it.
On the way back, I texted Rachel and, on impulse, a guy I trusted.
Rachel just told me she loved me and that they were wrong. She didn’t just love me as a friend, she loved me as a little sister, and that I shouldn’t let them be bitches and get to me.
His conversation was… Different.
Me-just-after-the-incident: Girls are vicious and cruel, especially to each other. Why do guys put up with us?
Guy-I-trust-enough-to-put-on-the-spot: Ha ha that’s an excellent question. I guess we figure the good qualities outweigh the bad. Or some are just horny.
He then inquired about why I’d asked and I informed him that some teasing and jokes hit a little too close to home. And he apologized. He did nothing wrong, and he apologized. After a bit of talking, he told me that maybe I should take a break from them and, when asked why, I should explain my position on things.
And I know they’re going to feel bad, and I honestly want them to, though it’s probably wrong of me, but still. I grew up among people that, looking back, were never really my friends. They usually wanted something from me. Or they bullied and harassed me. And in grade school, teachers never really notice anything like that, even when it’s happening in front of their very eyes. Unless there’s blood involved, of course.
Which is why Katie Krisp got in trouble in 5th grade for punching me. Which is why that kindergartener “with issues” got in trouble for giving me a concussion and nearly knocking me out in 4th grade.
Do you see the pattern?
No one cares unless there’s physical damage, and even then, it’s like, “Oh. They’re fighting. Whoops.”
Bunch of prigs.
In any case, middle school was better. I found people I could rely on, and we stuck together all through high school. But now that I’m a college student and I don’t live in the town with my family save for the weekends, I don’t see them. Life goes on whether we want it to or not. We…. We just have to deal with it.
In any case. It’s 1 am and I’m hungry for real food and flat out exhausted.
I have therapy in the morning, and you can bet that this will be coming up during it.
Ever yours,
And doubting herself more than ever,
The Night Thief
PS: You can bet I’m hugging him tomorrow. For making the voice shut up for a bit and for lending me the strength to be strong again, I could practically kiss him.
PPS: And yes, this is the guy I mention in the rant before this. Ironic, no?
PPPS: Thanks. I like helping and listening so if ya ever need to vent don’t hesitate to call or text. – I could swoon right now. Seriously. A guy that cares enough about people to listen? How in the world is he still single?
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Realization -- It Goes On
The past six months have been hell for me. Literally, a living, breathing hell.
First my grandfather is hospitalized, then I have a huge blow out with the person I considered my best friend. For a long while I was both depressed and suicidal. I hated myself. I hated my life. I wanted to die.
My depression medication was not helping at all. So I stopped taking it. Basically cold-turkey, though I told everyone that I'd weaned myself off of it. After that, I simply grit my teeth, grabbed on to the edge of sanity, and clung for dear life, pulling myself back up and over the edge bit by bit by itty bit.
For a while, I was a mess. But it was a secret. I hid my instability behind wide smiles and bright eyes.
And while other people would complain of how they couldn't go do this or that, or how they didn't think they were going to pass this assignment, or how they wanted in/out of a relationship, I just smiled and offered advice.
I viewed myself as a broken individual, one that no one really wanted around. And after my grandfather's death, it was even worse.
My mother cried. My aunt cried. My brother (who, upon the death of our grandmother five years previous, failed to understand she was gone forever) cried. They all cried. They had their moment of tears, of weakness. And I stood strong, a pillar of strength for them. And at their funeral, they flat out sobbed. Everyone cried.
I didn't. I still haven't.
Thanksgiving came and went, followed shortly after my Christmas. Both holidays were hard. Much harder than I'm willing to admit. But I was getting better. I was eating regularly again. I'd begun to smile again. I was taping together the pieces of my soul.
Then, the kicker.
My house, my home, the place I lived the most important years of my life, the place I'd lived in for nearly a decade.... Burned.
It caught fire, and it burned.
My life was in that building. All our pictures, the things grandma had given us before her death, our [mom's and my] degrees, every story I'd ever written from 7th grade to the present, my senior project, mom's figurines, the couch that I'd fallen asleep on so many times thsat it became my bed, the baby swing that Vaeh stayed in the first six weeks of her life while she lived with us. Three cats that had so many years ahead of them.
After that.... I lost it. Literally and figuratively.
I viewed myself as more than just broken. When I looked in the mirror, I saw someone who was shattered, a person who would never again be whole. I decided that no matter what I did, no one would ever love me. I couldn't even love myself, after all, so it made plenty of sense.
I still do.
I often forgot to eat, sometimes on accident, others on purpose. I indulged in a lesser known act of self-harm (accidentally): biting/gnawing at the cuticles around my finger nails.
I kept my prcarious grip on sanity through random acts of silly kindness
Today, I am a college student surviving 17 hours. I am clean, free of medication (excluding Vitamin C and a dose of naproxin sodium for my knee). I have a support group filled with people that care about me and my wellbeing. I'm in love. And?
I have come to a realization.
I will survive.
"In three words, I can sum up everything I have learned about life: It goes on."
Here's three more. "So will I."
So even if I hate myself right now, I'll come to terms with my hate some day. I'll come to terms with the fact that I can't love myself. Until then, I simply plan on surviving.
Ever yours,
and ready to sleep for a couple hours before piano,
The Night Thief
P.S. - In the coming days, I will be giving free hugs. :3
First my grandfather is hospitalized, then I have a huge blow out with the person I considered my best friend. For a long while I was both depressed and suicidal. I hated myself. I hated my life. I wanted to die.
My depression medication was not helping at all. So I stopped taking it. Basically cold-turkey, though I told everyone that I'd weaned myself off of it. After that, I simply grit my teeth, grabbed on to the edge of sanity, and clung for dear life, pulling myself back up and over the edge bit by bit by itty bit.
For a while, I was a mess. But it was a secret. I hid my instability behind wide smiles and bright eyes.
And while other people would complain of how they couldn't go do this or that, or how they didn't think they were going to pass this assignment, or how they wanted in/out of a relationship, I just smiled and offered advice.
I viewed myself as a broken individual, one that no one really wanted around. And after my grandfather's death, it was even worse.
My mother cried. My aunt cried. My brother (who, upon the death of our grandmother five years previous, failed to understand she was gone forever) cried. They all cried. They had their moment of tears, of weakness. And I stood strong, a pillar of strength for them. And at their funeral, they flat out sobbed. Everyone cried.
I didn't. I still haven't.
Thanksgiving came and went, followed shortly after my Christmas. Both holidays were hard. Much harder than I'm willing to admit. But I was getting better. I was eating regularly again. I'd begun to smile again. I was taping together the pieces of my soul.
Then, the kicker.
My house, my home, the place I lived the most important years of my life, the place I'd lived in for nearly a decade.... Burned.
It caught fire, and it burned.
My life was in that building. All our pictures, the things grandma had given us before her death, our [mom's and my] degrees, every story I'd ever written from 7th grade to the present, my senior project, mom's figurines, the couch that I'd fallen asleep on so many times thsat it became my bed, the baby swing that Vaeh stayed in the first six weeks of her life while she lived with us. Three cats that had so many years ahead of them.
After that.... I lost it. Literally and figuratively.
I viewed myself as more than just broken. When I looked in the mirror, I saw someone who was shattered, a person who would never again be whole. I decided that no matter what I did, no one would ever love me. I couldn't even love myself, after all, so it made plenty of sense.
I still do.
I often forgot to eat, sometimes on accident, others on purpose. I indulged in a lesser known act of self-harm (accidentally): biting/gnawing at the cuticles around my finger nails.
I kept my prcarious grip on sanity through random acts of silly kindness
Today, I am a college student surviving 17 hours. I am clean, free of medication (excluding Vitamin C and a dose of naproxin sodium for my knee). I have a support group filled with people that care about me and my wellbeing. I'm in love. And?
I have come to a realization.
I will survive.
"In three words, I can sum up everything I have learned about life: It goes on."
Here's three more. "So will I."
So even if I hate myself right now, I'll come to terms with my hate some day. I'll come to terms with the fact that I can't love myself. Until then, I simply plan on surviving.
Ever yours,
and ready to sleep for a couple hours before piano,
The Night Thief
P.S. - In the coming days, I will be giving free hugs. :3
Friday, May 21, 2010
Rantrantrant- Oooh, Shiny!
Hello my lovies! Did you miss me much?
Fine. >: I didn't miss you either.
Now, the reason I've been MIA for weeks is because, well, summer break and slothliness absolutely hate me. I recently realized, much to my disbelief, that I've made more friends in the underclassmen from my school that I have in the graduated class of seniors. That is both sad and a little weird, am I right?
Okay, so... Today has been... A weird day. Like... Incredibly über freaking weird. And right now... I hate it.
So let's begin our rants, yeah?
[rant=life]
Okay, folks. I thought we cleared the air up pretty well before, but I guess people still don't understand things. So let me simplify things a bit more...
Life is not supposed to drive people to suicidal conditions, okay? It's really not. And with what I've been witnessing recently, it has been. Too much pressure from adults, too much pressure from school, too much pressure from girl/boyfriends, too much everything!
What ever happened to just being a kid?
Oh. Wait. That's right...
Our economy's failing. Obama sucks. Our school systems are going down the drain. Spastic weather. Psychotic natural disasters. I could go on for hours... But I think you get the drift.
So I suppose that means that what we once knew as adolescence is now obsolete. We in Generation Y, supposedly the genius generation, go straight from childhood to adulthood with no period in between.
What a suckish hand of cards that our generation has been dealt.
I don't have much else to say on this topic for now except... Live like there's no tomorrow and fuck those that try to stop you.
[/rant]
[rant=love]
Love sucks.
Seriously.
It fucks with our heads and messes with everyone around us.
So why do we put up with it?
Because. Without love, humanity is nothing more than an educated beast.
In this 21st century, the most deady disease is that people feel unloved.
So love. Love like there's going to be no tomorrow, because one day there won't be.
[/rant]
[rant=music]
I <3 music.
:]
Music = Life.
Music on. World off.
[/rant]
And I'm done for now.
Class is about to end, and I've gotta find somewhere to go if I'm going to continue skulking around the school.
Happy birthing day, Zack.
Ever yours,
The Night Thief
Fine. >: I didn't miss you either.
Now, the reason I've been MIA for weeks is because, well, summer break and slothliness absolutely hate me. I recently realized, much to my disbelief, that I've made more friends in the underclassmen from my school that I have in the graduated class of seniors. That is both sad and a little weird, am I right?
Okay, so... Today has been... A weird day. Like... Incredibly über freaking weird. And right now... I hate it.
So let's begin our rants, yeah?
[rant=life]
Okay, folks. I thought we cleared the air up pretty well before, but I guess people still don't understand things. So let me simplify things a bit more...
Life is not supposed to drive people to suicidal conditions, okay? It's really not. And with what I've been witnessing recently, it has been. Too much pressure from adults, too much pressure from school, too much pressure from girl/boyfriends, too much everything!
What ever happened to just being a kid?
Oh. Wait. That's right...
Our economy's failing. Obama sucks. Our school systems are going down the drain. Spastic weather. Psychotic natural disasters. I could go on for hours... But I think you get the drift.
So I suppose that means that what we once knew as adolescence is now obsolete. We in Generation Y, supposedly the genius generation, go straight from childhood to adulthood with no period in between.
What a suckish hand of cards that our generation has been dealt.
I don't have much else to say on this topic for now except... Live like there's no tomorrow and fuck those that try to stop you.
[/rant]
[rant=love]
Love sucks.
Seriously.
It fucks with our heads and messes with everyone around us.
So why do we put up with it?
Because. Without love, humanity is nothing more than an educated beast.
In this 21st century, the most deady disease is that people feel unloved.
So love. Love like there's going to be no tomorrow, because one day there won't be.
[/rant]
[rant=music]
I <3 music.
:]
Music = Life.
Music on. World off.
[/rant]
And I'm done for now.
Class is about to end, and I've gotta find somewhere to go if I'm going to continue skulking around the school.
Happy birthing day, Zack.
Ever yours,
The Night Thief
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Two Rants and a Smidge of Relief
Well.
It’s done.
The senior project I try my best not to complain about? Yeah. It’s done.
So that’s where I’ve been these past couple weeks. Pulling up a class grade from 44% to 74%, skittering around to finish the forms, throwing my portfolio together... And passing Senior Boards.
And now I’m one step closer to graduating. Finals on Monday and Tuesday. A couple dozen letters to write for friends. Graduation on Thursday. ... I’m totally ready for this.
But, in other news, my friend is totally not ready for life. And that brings me to my rant(s) for the day.
[rant=life]
First things first.
I don’t give a flying fuck who you are, if you’re a parent and you have a young kid going through a stressful period in their life, it is not your job to pull them aside and tell them to get over it. It may be your job to aid them in choosing a life direction, but it’s absolutely not your job to make them choose during the afore mentioned stressful period.
Personally, I’m lucky enough to have a mother that ‘remembers’ how it feels to be a teenager and a father that truly doesn’t give a shit.
Other people? Not so much.
So let’s say it now and get this nonsense over with.
Unless you can accurately fill the shoes of your kid, don’t try and tug their life around. Especially if they’re from BSHS. They get a lot more shit than adults think, and that school is sinking into the ground like a lead weight in quicksand.
Don’t act like you know it all. Just let your kids be kids for a while. Our economy sucks balls. Let them enjoy being young while they can.
[/rant]
One down, one more to get through.
[rant=love]
Dear Stupid Retards That Think They Know Everything,
FUCK YOU!
You have absolutely no RIGHT to tell me who I can and cannot love. I’m loud, I’m proud, and I will never change. Nothing you do will ever make me stop being me, so get over yourself and get the hell outta my sight.
And that means that the fact that I like other chicks? My decision. If that grossses you out, the door out can be found in the back button. Click it and get out. We don’t want you here.
Guys liking guys not your thing? Ignore it. You’re probably a closet case anyway.
So get over your trip and join the club. Love is love, no matter the gender.
Nuff said.
[/rant]
Now. We all clear? I think I’ve made my point very clear... But feel free to ask questions.
And on to new topics...
I passed senior boards. ... Did I already say that? Yeah. Whoops.
CAUTION~ Floating letters ahead. :D
Yeah.
And.
... I want a Kodoma/forest spirit/imp from the movie Princess Mononoke. ... Like, bad. D:
Okay. I’m shifting from topic to topic. It’s obvious that I need sleep, so I’ma shift out.
Night, all.
Ever Yours,
but unusually über tired,
The Night Thief
It’s done.
The senior project I try my best not to complain about? Yeah. It’s done.
So that’s where I’ve been these past couple weeks. Pulling up a class grade from 44% to 74%, skittering around to finish the forms, throwing my portfolio together... And passing Senior Boards.
And now I’m one step closer to graduating. Finals on Monday and Tuesday. A couple dozen letters to write for friends. Graduation on Thursday. ... I’m totally ready for this.
But, in other news, my friend is totally not ready for life. And that brings me to my rant(s) for the day.
[rant=life]
First things first.
I don’t give a flying fuck who you are, if you’re a parent and you have a young kid going through a stressful period in their life, it is not your job to pull them aside and tell them to get over it. It may be your job to aid them in choosing a life direction, but it’s absolutely not your job to make them choose during the afore mentioned stressful period.
Personally, I’m lucky enough to have a mother that ‘remembers’ how it feels to be a teenager and a father that truly doesn’t give a shit.
Other people? Not so much.
So let’s say it now and get this nonsense over with.
Unless you can accurately fill the shoes of your kid, don’t try and tug their life around. Especially if they’re from BSHS. They get a lot more shit than adults think, and that school is sinking into the ground like a lead weight in quicksand.
Don’t act like you know it all. Just let your kids be kids for a while. Our economy sucks balls. Let them enjoy being young while they can.
[/rant]
One down, one more to get through.
[rant=love]
Dear Stupid Retards That Think They Know Everything,
FUCK YOU!
You have absolutely no RIGHT to tell me who I can and cannot love. I’m loud, I’m proud, and I will never change. Nothing you do will ever make me stop being me, so get over yourself and get the hell outta my sight.
And that means that the fact that I like other chicks? My decision. If that grossses you out, the door out can be found in the back button. Click it and get out. We don’t want you here.
Guys liking guys not your thing? Ignore it. You’re probably a closet case anyway.
So get over your trip and join the club. Love is love, no matter the gender.
Nuff said.
[/rant]
Now. We all clear? I think I’ve made my point very clear... But feel free to ask questions.
And on to new topics...
I passed senior boards. ... Did I already say that? Yeah. Whoops.
CAUTION~ Floating letters ahead. :D
Yeah.
And.
... I want a Kodoma/forest spirit/imp from the movie Princess Mononoke. ... Like, bad. D:
Okay. I’m shifting from topic to topic. It’s obvious that I need sleep, so I’ma shift out.
Night, all.
Ever Yours,
but unusually über tired,
The Night Thief
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