Lost

I don't know what to do anymore. About anything. Stay in UCA, go to San Fran, pick up and go to Peru with $1000, move to CO,... just give up.

I keep finding myself shaking. I keep finding myself so very close to tears. I'm so close to breaking, it feels like it already started, and I've simply hit the pause button. But there is no rewind, and sooner or later, the play button is going to be hit, even if it's not by me.

I haven't been eating that much, I have these ridiculous urges to cut. I have the means to right next to me- an exacto blade, a box-cutter, sharp-assed scissors. my brain is in constant turmoil, constant chaos. I would do anything for some silence, for some peace.

I wish people would stop telling me that I mattered. Because I don't think that I do, and really, I don't feel like they should think I do either. And they're holding me back.

This sucks. I keep hoping for something to go right, anything, and nothing does. I always try to keep optimistic, try to think just a little longer, but I'm starting to think more and more that I won't get any tranquility until I die.

I'm so frustrated. I want to care, I want to be happy, I want to feel something other than this emptiness, this endless despair.
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There's nothing here for me now. Nothing at all. Now I remember. This happened to me before. This is why I left.

I don't want to be an ant, you know? I mean, it's like we go through life with our antennas bouncing off one another, continuously on ant auto-pilot, with nothing really human required of us. Stop, go, walk here, drive there. All action basically for survival. All communication simply to keep this ant colony buzzing along in a polite manner. Here's your change. Paper or plastic? Credit or debit? You want fries with that? I don't want a straw. I want real human moments. I want to see you. I want you to see me. I don't want to give that up. I don't want to be an ant, you know?
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BTW- that was an excerpt from waking life. Well, two actually.

But you know, that's what I feel like. An ant. I'm not doing shit for myself. It's all this fucking programming. I'm sick of it. It's making me feel so pointless, so directionless. I'm ripping myself to the core looking for a shred of truth, a shred of individuality, a piece of myself. And all I keep finding are pices saying "Made in China," "Made in Japan," "Manufactured in the Phillipines," "Assembled in Peru." What the fuck? Since when am I a product? A robot programmed to follow the societal norm? In fighting one norm as much as I could, I became another, and in forsaking that, I took up the prior again.

Where am I? What happened to that quintessential piece of eternity that is me? I keep searching, and all I find is plastic, and glass, and metal, and synthetic objects.

Did I ever exist? Was I ever given the chance to? Will I ever exist? I want to believe I will. But at this point, I don't know.

All these voices in my head keep telling me different things, pulling me different ways. Do this, do that. Go here, wait there. I'm either all action and no theory, or all theory, no action. Doing things without a reason, and thinking things without acting on them.

My mind is constant chaos. I can't stop the din. I want to rip it, cut it, burn it, out of me, whatever i can do. Yet I am still sitting here at my laptop, typing. It feels like earlier I still had the will to resist, the will to fight back, the will to take the less travelled path. But now I've just given up.

*Bitter laugh* That trait would seem to be a trend lately.

Because that's what happened the other night. I fought back, and when nothing came of it, I gave up. Again, like with my life, doesn't mean I liked it, or was happy with it. Doesn't mean I wanted it, or participated. I didn't just go along with it. But nonetheless, I forfeited. I guess I thought, if it's going to happen whether I fight back or not, why expend the energy? Maybe the alcohol had something to do with it. I think it did. I still fucking blame myself- I got hammered, I went with him, I didn't continue fighting back. I just keep thinking, if I hadn't drank so much, I would have continued fighting back. I wouldn't have freaked out and simply froze just because saying "no" and trying to push him off of me several times didn't work. I would have been stronger- not physically, but mentally. I keep thinking I deserved it. I fucking despise myself. I can't believe my brain just shut down like that. That I wasn't screaming at myself to DO something. No- I told myself to breathe. That was my great defense- dissociate, and keep breathing. Everything in my head had been too much, and I guess I just couldn't take anymore. It was one thing too many.

And the one person I had decided to tell... it's like he ripped out my heart and stomped on it, grinding it into the ground with his foot until it was indistinguishable from the earth. I can't even explain the hole in my chest right now. Thinking about it makes me want to throw up. I didn't even know how to react. I was in shock.

I keep wanting to scream, wanting to break down and cry. I want to physically hurt as much as I do emotionally. I want to sink into oblivion.

Maybe I do need a break. From everything. The past 24 hours, I keep thinking more and more about taking off for a semester (right now) and putting myself into a mental hospital. My brain is being invaded, crumbling, consumed with chaos. I can't explain how much I don't know what the fuck to do anymore. I don't know what to think, I don't know what I want. I know what I want to want, I know what I should want.

All I can think about is just being held, so there will be somebody there with me when I finally fall apart, when I finally lose it. Because it feels like I'm just holding on long enough so that I'm not alone. So I can feel somebody there. Somebody who cares about me more than I do. Someone I can sink into, to lean against as I finally drown in the tears of my soul. I've felt so alone practically my whole life. I don't want to be alone when it all comes crashing down. That is my biggest fear.

That is what the little girl felt. Love. Pure, untainted, unconditional love. After never being good enough for anybody to care, never being touched by somebody, there was something, someone, there for her at the end. That's all I want.

I still don't think I'll ever get it.

Torn

I don't really know what to do about this anymore. I've spent the past couple of days thinking about it more and more, and I just really don't know what to do anymore.

Basically I'm talking about my relationship with David. I really love him. A lot. More than could ever be described. And there's so many components to that love. I love who he is as a person, I love how he makes me feel: just period and about myself, I love that he understands me in so many more ways than anybody else does, I love that I don't feel the need to hide myself when I'm around him. I trust him, I respect him. Even the things I don't necessarily like tend to fade into the things that I love: they're still there, but they are just more components of the guy I love. I really want to be with him. I want to move to Colorado with him. I'd like to take this as far as we can (while still being happy of course).

But...

I know that if I go up to Colorado, I'm going to expect it to end up in marriage. I know better- not meaning that it won't happen, but knowing that it could go either way. But I just feel like the relationship would sort of owe me if I up and left all the comforts I have now to go be with him. And really: I don't want to, or need to, be thinking about marriage right now. It's far too early. Yes, I consider this a serious relationship. Yes, it would be nice if we ended up there. But I have no guarantee of that. And from this last relationship, I know that you can love somebody a LOT and they can love you back, and you can try and try for something, but it doesn't mean that you get it automatically.

So yeah, ... did I mention that there's more???

So I know that I have this problem with staying committed. And I don't mean cheating. It just takes a certain kind of person for me to merit staying in a relationship for any period of time. And yeah, David is that kind of person. But... the situation that we're in right now is not the right kind for me at the moment. After just getting out of a serious relationship, some part of me wanted to just go on casual dates for a while, and not particularly get into a serious relationship, at least not right off the bat. However, that is what ended up happening. Now, this would have been different had David ended up moving down to Conway, or hell, even staying in Elkins. But he's not: he's going back up to Colorado. As much as I'm ready for a serious relationship with him, I don't think that I'm ready for a serious long-distance relationship. With anybody. Especially not for four months. I just don't think I could deal with it. And it has nothing to do with me having opportunities here or anything: but a long-distance relationship is trying enough as it is. I'm sitting here, trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life. And throwing this in with it... I'm just going to be stressed.

I just don't want David to get the wrong idea. I want to be with him. I really really do. There's no denying that whatsoever. I want to move up to Colorado with him. I want all these things. And so much more. But circumstances just seem to continue to conspire against us. And I'm not saying I'm giving up. I don't want to. But in all truth... I think I need some time. Some time to think, to evaluate my situation.

Out

I finally am. I almost can't believe it.

So on Saturday, there was a PMToday concert that I wanted to go to. Michael was going to bring me, and basically he drove up, and I started walking toward the car. My parents started throwing a fit, and I was like 'screw you' and left anyway.

And now I'm even more out.

Now I only have my own issues to deal with- oh joy.

I don't know. There is certain shit that right nowis hard. But I really don't feel like dealing with it at the moment.

I'll write more later.

Where is the Fucking "Stop" Button on this Thing?

No matter what I say, what I do, how far I run, I can't stop hurting. It never stops. I'm so tired of pretty much everything in my life. It's like it can't change fast enough. I'm so tired of hurting. I'm about to snap.

I don't even know what the fuck sparked this. I just went to the kitchen to throw away the Zaxby's box and grab the anti-virus software for my laptop, and wanted the world to stop. It's not that I want to kill myself, I just want everything to just stop for a minute and let me just be. Breathing hurts. My heart beating feels more like it bleeding out. Sometimes I wonder if I have a soul anymore, and if the answer is yes, what kind of sorry condition it might be in. My brain is about as fucked up as it can get. I'm constantly upset, pissed off, or just ambivalent. I want to care, but I can't. I don't think I have anything to care about.

Why couldn't I just keep acting happy? Acting like everything was at least tolerable? I don't even think I qualify for suicide. I have this sick sense that the only people that should commit suicide are those that had potential, that could make something of their lives, and went and fucked it up beyond all belief, past the point of return. I don't think I'm worth shit.

I almost can't wait for next week. I'll be away from the house, I could cut off anyone I wanted to, and hell, even those I don't want to. I could get drugs if I want, not eat, cut, burn, whatever I wanted. Whoops, no driving recklessly for me, cuz of no car, but I'm pretty damn sure I could make up for it.

I keep sitting here asking myself "What happened?" But you know what scares me more? That part of me doesn't care what happened. I almost feel like I'm asking myself that question just because I feel obliged to.

Who do I have left? Carrie's probably pissed at me for practically getting her grounded. Michael would just blow me off or try to get too close. And David's probably trying to make sure he doesn't get infections in any of his new piercings.

I don't mean that. Any of it. I know that if I really needed them, any of them would be here in a second. But I want to mean it. I don't want anybody to care about me because maybe that proves that I am worthless. That if I throw my life away it won't make a difference.

Maybe I'll just move to Mexico, change my name to Marilinda, become a prostitute, and traffick drugs.

Fuck it.

Por Mis Padres...

You know what: screw it. I'm done. I've tried to do shit your way, live the life you wanted me to. I know you wanted the best for me. I know you still do. But you need to shut the fuck up.

You don't know me. All you see when you look at me is what I'm doing. And you don't even pause to wonder why. It's either "right" or "wrong" in your mind. And there is no gray area. You don't even try to think about stuff from my side. Apparently, to you, my side doesn't even fucking exist. You need to face reality.

You screwed up. You did. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. Somewhere along the line, you pushed too hard, and I fucking snapped. I'm broken, I'm not fucking perfect. I will never be perfect. And apparently I will never be good enough for you. I'm sorry. And you know: I'm not even being sarcastic about that. I really am sorry. You can't even see past the exterior and see that maybe, just maybe, I am a good person. Yeah, I might make some stupid decisions. Possibly even wrong ones. But they're still my decisions, and they don't change who I am. And I'm sorry for myself. Because now I don't, can't, accept who I am. Because in my mind, my mind, I don't think that I'm good enough. I don't think I am smart enough, pretty enough, talented enough. I still think I am worthless and a waste of time. I don't even know how to care about myself anymore, because I still see myself as a failure. And no matter what I try, what I do, I can't stop.

Yeah: I had sex with Michael. But you know what: I thought I was going to marry him. I thought I had somebody there that didn't expect shit out of me, and that was so refreshing. I thought I had somebody that would accept me as I am, for who I am, not what the fuck I'm doing. I thought I had somebody who's view of me would never be tarnished because I didn't do as expected, or live up to ridiculous expectations. I wouldn't have fucked him if I thought it would end.

Yeah: I was wrong. I know that. Shut up and stop reminding me of it.

Yeah: I have a new boyfriend/old one. And this time I'm not expecting anything in particular. But what I have seen from him scares the shit out of me while making me unbelievably hopeful. He is one of the few that doesn't want the mask. Whatever screwed up broken destroyed thing is underneath: that's what he wants. And he wants to help put me back together. For my sake. He's not looking at me as a problem to be fixed. And I'm thankful for that. I know it could end, I'm perfectly aware of that. And that's ok: that's life.

But when am I going to start having that? A life. My life, preferably. Maybe yours is nice for you. But as I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not you. Let me live my life. Let me make my mistakes. Or, god forbid, some actual good decisions for me. Stop treating me like a child.

You pushed too hard. I'm tired of fighting, so I'll just cut you out. You're making me miserable. You're making me hate myself. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of feeling like a disappointment, like I'm worthless.

You want me to be happy? Seriously? Stop thinking about yourself for once and think about me. Shut the fuck up and leave me alone.