Choice words

Let me just say that I need to talk to my BFF and I really don’t want to bitch about anything. 

We had plans to hang out on Tuesday; or as I know it “Open mic night!”. It’s one of the only things that I look forward to because I get to see my friends. No really, the people that care about me the most in this life.  I don’t get to see them as much as I want to because I’m at University, but that one day of the month, I can finally take a microphone and say “Most of the people I know are huge assholes and I’m so fucking happy to see you all.” 

They get it. My friends are basically older versions of me, except they have more tattoos and jobs. But they get it. They know what it is like to live on a small budget and (happily) accept the small amount of cash that they earn from shows. But despite that, they know that music comes before the money anyway.  For the most part, they know how it is to not be apart of society because they don’t want them there, or because they left in the first place. We share the same struggles, and I’m extremely grateful for them. 

On Thursday, I’d though that I would see my BFF there. I even saved them a seat, to my right, in the second row. But after 25 minutes, I just knew that they weren't going to show.  As I sat in the shaky wooden chair, a part of my heart sank. They knew how much that this one night means to me, and they even told me that they would show, but why weren’t they there? I chewed on that question all night, and after a while, I just told myself to have fun and enjoy my time there. 

Another one of my friends asked me what I was doing on vacation. Because I didn’t have anything to loose, I just put my emotions in a metaphor and told them:

“I’m not doing too much on vacation. I’m mostly waiting, I don’t know what for,  something to happen I guess. But for now, I’m just sitting on my couch, listening to Joy Division. They know me better than I know myself right now.” 

I didn’t plan to read anything beforehand, so I just decided to talk about how I wan’t to just walk in the wilderness and just hope that I can enjoy things there. Everyone practically agreed, so I didn’t feel as bad. There is just something that I like about the forest, or just mountains. It is just quiet. I can think without distractions and my soul can breathe and relax. I have nothing to loose, and no one to think about except myself. I tend to not do that when I’m at home, like I am now. 

That is what I did yesterday. I just thought about things I really want to do and I did them. I read books, and just told myself to be happy and to not care about what other people do. It is my life after all. But the people in it help me through and I guess the right people are there at the right times. One of my other friends from the neighborhood asked me if I wanted to hang out and watch movies all day. I said yes. I miss everyone that I had to leave behind, and although I don’t see the people from my town as much as I want to, I know that they care about me. 

To go back to open mic night, another one of my good friends told me about how much they like having me around:

“Things just wouldn’t be the same here without you. I’m glad you are here, remember that.” 

At this point, I think I don’t care what anyone thinks about me because I know who does; my friends do. That makes me happy. But I’m not happy when I don’t understand why people do the things that they do. 

It’s hard right now because I’m vacation, I’m basically cut off from people. I stay in my room, I read, play guitar, eat and sleep. It was great for the first couple of weeks because I could do whatever I want without obligation. After a while it got boring, I don’t have experiences with people as I normally would. I miss that. and it would be even better if I could have shared something that I really enjoy with my friend two days ago. 

I keep telling myself that it is ok, and that I would be fine, but I know that something is different. I don’t know what, but something has changed. I’m not too happy about that. 

This morning, my BFF showed me this listing for an apartment. We had plans to move in together, so we could cut costs and just have fun. The apartment is nice and close to campus, so I don’t really have any complaints there, but when I seen it, I just wanted to say: “No, I don’t think that I want to be there anytime soon” but that would be mean. I just told them the truth: “Hold off on the listing for now. I applied for a residency position, and I really would’t want to spend money on a place I wouldn’t live in”. That’s it. I haven’t heard anything since then. I don’t really care, but you know that I do. I honestly don’t care if they read my text message, and haven’t replied. I don’t care if they are fuming angry and mad as hell at me, or if they aren't.  I’ll just take these feelings out on myself for now. 

10 Weeks

I think the hardest thing about being on vacation is that I have to deal with all of these thoughts that I’ve been hiding from myself for 10 weeks. I hate it, but if I don’t address there will be no way for me to feel better. 

I really don’t want to be “here”. I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to be at home, I don’t want to deal with my family, I don’t want to be back at University, I don’t want to be “around”. No, I don’t want to be dead because that would not help me at all. I need to go to University because it isn’t that bad after all (despite what I think),  home has my family in it and yes, that gets annoying because not even they understand sometimes (well most of the time). 

Today, I was in a room with my mom and I started crying for about an hour and a half. I know that she knew, but she didn’t say anything until I told her “I don’t want to be here anymore.” Then more tears. I guess this is the issue. I don’t know what I want. I feel like everything that I worked for doesn’t belong to me, or I just don't deserve it at all. That isn’t a good way to think. I know that, but for some reason, that little voice in the back of my head is yelling at me then and now. 

Look, I know that I worked my ass off to get into a good University,  and I do have an opportunity to stay here and learn as much as I fucking can, but I don’t fit in. I don’t wear fancy North Face jackets with Ugg boots, my glasses aren’t Ray Ban’s, I’m not in the Cayman Islands, France, or Keystone for vacation. (Irony: “Rich” by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs just started to play while I typed this) I don’t have a best friend that I tell all of my shit to, and that is making me feel so fucking bad. Trust me, I wish that I had some of those things, but I really wish that I wasn’t so fucking scared to tell someone how I feel. So far my BFF (I’m there’s too), and I are getting along fine. But I’m kind of distant about some things, because I just don’t want to loose them, or make them think of me as some type of mentally unstable depressed psycho. 

This is as far  as I got to explaining how I feel. One day, I got into an argument with my family members before class, and I had to walk right in afterwards. They asked me if there was something wrong, and me bing me just said: 

“No. nothing is wrong. But thanks for asking”.

What a fucking lie. I’m not a good liar. I totally had that “I just cried outside before I came in and I’m about to loose my shit” look on my face. But good thing I told them what was up later, in my signature vague way. 

I hate lying. I hate hiding shit. Because when I do, I just end up like this, and I cry all day and listen to Joy Division for hours, which isn’t a bad thing, but I like to do other things than be moderately sad all day. I touch on this in my zines all the time, but it’s worth writing down again. Someone, is showing some sort of interest in how I feel and just me in general. To me that is fantastic, but that voice is calling it odd because I tend not to trust anyone or myself. But I need to change it. 

I know someone is in love with me (Irony Two: “Fall In Love With Me” By Iggy Pop just started playing. iTunes is 2/2 so far) and to my best efforts, my bluffing isn’t working. I’m just going to stop with that. I literally can’t do anything because I’m stuck at this house for another 5 or so weeks, but I need to say something but I’m so afraid to. Damn that little voice in the back of my head, it isn’t helping me out any. But I need to be like:

“Wan’t to go to this concert next week? I know that you know something about music unlike everyone else here...”

That might work. No sorry, that is going to work because I said that it will, and I know that it will. I was talking to that person right before I left for vacation at this half melted ice cream party. Part of it was me stress eating for finals (and because I didn’t need real food, because I’m a beast.), but part of it was no one was really around, and they were looking at me super intensely. I had a plastic spoon in my hand, and I was trying to get half liquid chocolate chip ice cream into my bowl (that is so very hard). I wasn’t awake because I was writing papers all day, and I was a little bit spaced out. After getting about half of the container into my bowl, I heard laughing. 

“Harder than it looks right?” 

“Tell me about it. Where is an ice cream scooper when you need one?”  I said. 

What was I doing? I was talking to this person I have a crush on, and I wasn’t making an ass of myself while doing it. Something just felt different at that second, and it always does whenever I talk to them. 

After that we started talking. My eyes were on the toppings. My Brain was in the conversation, but my heart was in the right place. It was so strange. They know a lot about me (that might be low grade stalking that they do, or they are just super observant), and for once in this 10 week period, I wasn’t awkward around them. I still want to know how, out of all things, they know about my band (even the name) and this music festival I played about two weeks before that conversation. I’ve been trying to work out how that works out in my head, but I’m starting to think that I’m not supposed to. I guess I had one of those moments that I can’t explain. 

(“Bienvenue” by Class Actress is playing, I guess that speaks for itself. iTunes has been interesting tonight)

Looks like I’ve found a keeper. And I’m going to do everything that I can to keep them in my life. No matter what. I don’t know what that means, but I’m going to do it. I should probably stop thinking about it, and just let it happen. 

So yes, I want to be back with them, in the dorm, eating the better part of a gallon of ice cream, and wondering about what the hell I’m going to do next. That is the best incentive that I have, and I know that I will be rewarded, I can feel it. But until then, I got to stay here, in this place where I don’t want to be, and take it second by second, until my vacation ends, where I shut my feelings off for another 10 weeks, and see what happens. I know that I won’t feel too bad. 

(To finish things off, “Parents” by Descendents just started to play. Go figure.)

Songwriting

I'm on summer vacation for the next four or so months, so I got a lot of time to take part in my favorite activity; songwriting. I been kind of hesitant towards songwriting for the past couple of months because I frankly don't know how to write a song. Yesterday when I started writing, I just told myself to "wing it" until something sounds great. I've written a lot of poetry, but I just stopped a while ago because I wanted to. Now that I told myself to write, I just can't stop.

I really didn't stop either. Although I really haven't written a full arrangement in a while, but I have bits of lyrics that I have scattered around in notebooks, note cards, journals and phones. I have "seeds" around everywhere that could grow into a full song if I just put the time in that I needed to. Now that I have time, I can start developing those ideas into the extraordinary songs that they are.

My friends are always asking me about my songwriting process, and what inspires me to write. I usually give the same answer: "Oh, you know, if something happens in my life, I write about it, and just see what happens". Although that is true, I try to examine the underling issues of my songs. For example, I could have the worst day in my life and decide to write a song not about being angry, but instead about how people treat other people. That could be the same thing, but I think that the motivations behind both songs is quite different. I really don't say that when someone asks me about how I write songs.

Whenever my friends ask me about my songwriting progress, most of them say "Just go for it! We are waiting for your album!". I honestly can't wait to finish whatever DIY mess I make but I'll make sure to include amazing songs.

Finally cracked.

I've been feeling strange lately. It isn't just strange in the sense of "I really don't know how I feel" but more like I just don't want to tell anyone how I feel. This is partly because I really don't know how I feel. I just can't describe it. Part of it also comes from the fact that I really can't think about anything because I'm so tired all of the time. This got annoying, so I decided to just take a time out this weekend and find out this feeling inside.

So I was sitting on my bed yesterday after going to the record store and just enjoying the day, and then it hit me. I cracked open a soda (this is kind of my new thing to do on the weekend, kick back and drink a soda or two) and I just sat, waiting to find out what I hiding on the inside. My phone suddenly blurted out a text alert, and then I knew what I was hiding from. I'm hiding from the fact that I'm in love.

That is it. I just don't like admitting it. When I do admit or at leas tell my feelings for another person to one of my friends, it's always an awkward affair (I know, I shouldn't have used the a word).  I honestly want to tell one of my friends, but it is just so strange for me. Whenever I do I usually get the "Oh really?" treatment, or a weird look. So far, I haven't told anyone how I directly feel because I don't want to risk myself becoming enraged or anything.

Then again, I just don't want to be wrong with anything. My mindset is "I can't feel any pain if I don't admit my feelings". As great as that works, I just don't like being dishonest to myself. So I guess this time around, I'm doing things the "right way". I guess this is my new stance on life, if I feel like I'm doing something wrong, then I'm doing it wrong.

I then looked at my phone, and then I realized that I got a text from the person that I wanted to talk to. At first, I was just glad that they texted me first, I hate texting first. I just don't enjoy texting people first becasue I hate all of the pressure that it brings. So this was a welcome relief. I didn't know then that this simple text back could morph into a three hour talk fest. I don't want to say anything bad because it wasn't a bad conversation, but it was one of those conversations where you just don't talk about anything and enjoy it.

Something is defiantly happening right now. I just can't put my finger on it yet. For now, I don't want to talk about all of the negative things that might happen. I only want to think about all of the good that will be coming my way. If that isn't optimism, I don't know what is.

Feelings

I told myself that I would start to pay attention to my feelings more, so I started to listen to all of the noise that I'm making. I don't really want to talk about how I feel because I turned it off for so long. So I guess I'll try to put words to senses.

I don't know what it is about love or what not, but it always tries to bite me in the ass whenever I get close to it. I always want to try to make love amazing, but something always stops me, just like right now. I had to think about it for a little bit today, but I think I'm sort of afraid of love though. Well, not being in love, that is nice, but more like, letting love slip away from me.

Here is an example. Last year, I dated my ex for about three months. It was my second time dating them. I thought of the opportunity as a "great second chance" but instead, it ended and I felt like all of my old emotions came back to punch me in the face. I really wish that I had the chance to not get attached to my feelings so much, because it is starting to make me upset.

I'll have to write more later. It is getting late, and I'm drowsy from this hay fever medication.

Relax

Something amazing just happened over the past three days. I finally met someone who is just as as unusual as I am. This isn't just in the regular "unusual" way. So far, we like and dislike the same things, and have been texting constantly for the past week or so. This sounds good, and it feels good to me, but I only have one problem; I feel like I'm getting ahead of myself too fast, and I feel like this could end badly.

Part of me doesn't want to believe that. This is mainly because in the majority of relationships that I get involved in start off great, but always had that element of suspicion that I always overlooked. I just don't feel that here. I put on my skeptic's lenses, and I do feel a little bit leery about some things, but come on, I'm still in the beginning stages of this new friendship. I'm going to be honest, I never gone into any friendship or relationship completely trusting my new friend. It just doesn't happen. There is still a lot that I have to learn or find out about them. Of course, I could just ask questions, but what fun is that? One of the fun parts of learning about a new person is trying to find out about how they think, and who they hang out with. I could use myself as an example. I'm a pretty mysterious person, at the surface. People usually think that I'm a brooding, anti-social jerk that doesn't care about anyone or anything. Once people loose that notion, they figure out that, I am not a brooding, anti-soical jerk that hates everyone. Usually people are just biased towards things that they don't know.

I'm not going to pretend that I'm a prefect person. I honestly have a hard time trusting people, but the good thing is that I'm working on it. I'm not the type of person that can't trust anyone and wants to control them but I'm more like "I haven't heard from them all day. What the heck?". I guess I'm a nervous wreck sometimes, but the good news is that I can change.

Ironically, this is the prefect opportunity to let me change. All I have to do is just relax and hope for the best. This is the prefect time to try. I've been trying to kick my habit of worrying for so long, but this would be the greatest way to kill it off for good. For example, I always used to freak out before my debate rounds, but then I started to listen to some of my favorite songs, take a deep breath in, and meditate. No matter how intimidating my opponent looked, I started to do this "ritual" and then I started slaying my opponents in the round. I just have to find my ritual to calm down and worry less.

I'll see where this friendship takes me. I'm not going to loose it for sure. I've been too naive in the past, and now I think that I finally know and understand what I have to do in order to make this work. This time, I won't go in fearless, and worried, I just have to remain positive and I'll see where that takes me.

Boss-less

Ready to hear me complain again? Well get ready, because you are now reading the most up to date chapter about my life.

Let me get you up to speed. I've been getting a maximum of 6 hours of sleep per day, and my migraines are worse than ever. I've haven't had time to reflect on anything or think about how I'm feeling. I've basically started to shut off my feelings and just started to just let my work dictate my life, and I'm not enjoying it very much.

I'm also being bossed around, and its about damn time that I quit being bossed around. So I've started to fight back.

We had a bake sale today, and I did what I normally do when I run concession like things. I sit around at a table, and I help people when they want to be helped. Or in other words, I help people in the most friendly way that I can. I fell like our ventures make money because I offer the best service that I can, and people enjoy that. I try to include everyone when I do projects like these, and I really enjoy working with people when I do. But I don't enjoy working with people when they tell me what to do in an "authoritarian" way. So I got sick of being bossed around, so I told them how I felt, and then I left because I didn't want to deal with other peoples bad attitudes. Sure, leaving the table wasn't the best thing to do, but I did feel better when I left for 6 minutes.

I could have calmed down and said something besides "I don't like the way that you are talking to me, I think you should take a break." but of coarse I didn't do that because I "don't want to hurt anyone's feelings". I need to remind myself that my feelings have been hurt way too many times, and that I need to start acting like the people who are hurting my feelings because being nice isn't getting me anywhere. I'm learning that the hard way.

Once I got home from the bake sale, I decided to address an issue that was bothering me yesterday. In Debate class, I was told to present the website (which I made by the way) with another captain. I had no problem with this. I was instructed to do so along with my team mate, so I did what I was instructed to do. However, I didn't do too much of anything. I just stood there; awkwardly standing not taking about my creation. I didn't know what to do. It was mostly because my many sleepless nights were catching up with me. But today, I thought that I could talk to my other collaborator about what and how I felt. I used the following non violent communication method, and I thought that things were absolutely clear and easy to understand. But apparently (and I quote from the email) "you have a lot of spelling errors" (that is a borderline insult in my mind) and "You had the time to talk about the things that you wanted to". Apparently, this is a lie to me, and I still need to respond back to that email, but I can't do anything (even sleep) until I get these feelings out.

I really want to be the same me that I am, but more assertive and less lonely. I always feel like I'm isolated in some way or another, even when I'm planning a social event, or out in one. I always feel awkward (you know I hate thatword a lot, sorry). But its true. I try to talk to people and it just doesn't go well. When I'm not working or Debating, I spend my weekends at home in my room, on the verge of sobbing, trying to find something to do and wondering why people don't like me and why I hate myself sometimes.

Probation

I’m Captain Probation - But I’m not a criminal.
They think that I’m not good enough to be a captain.
They think that I’m a liar.
They think that I can’t do it.

I think that I need a break.
I’m fine with admitting that.
I’m ok with keeping a log of all of the things that I say.
I’m fine with writing that.
I can attend all of your functions that you want
I can try to talk to these people who think I’m a joke.
I’ll try.

But if they think that they can break my spirit.
Then they are wrong.
They will be eating humble pie this Thanksgiving.

From my tumblr

Something major just happened in my Debate carer, but I don't want to tell anyone because I know that they don't want to hear me rant about how I feel. So I'm going to describe what happened.

I plan this event, this dodgeball event to be exact. I had to get everything set up. I had to talk to some people and just make sure that we had everything done. That is what I have to do - that is why I'm a captain. I know how to get things done. However, I had someone breathing down my neck and watching my every move. I got stressed out and then I grew increasingly worried about meeting my deadlines. But when I did, I passed them very quickly and then after this Monday "Dogeball day" everything went off without a hitch and I felt good about myself. I guess that wasn't true.

Today I was called into a meeting and was basically verbally blasted by our coach about not meeting my deadlines, and not being responsible. Basically, I can't be trusted for the time being by our coach. They wanted to claim that "I didn't have anything done on time, I didn't talk to the people that I needed to talk to and that I'm basically not at captain level processing right now." This is the second time that I've heard this speech. I also heard it last Friday when I got pulled out of class while enjoying our cookie party in newspaper. I should probably say that we are not even a month into school and that our debate season starts 2 months from now.

Of coarse there is an explanation for why things happen in life, and here is my own defense. I had a hard time meeting deadlines because I've been so sleep deprived in the past couple of weeks. It is still hard for me to wake up on time and to remember when all of my classes start. I've also have been having a difficult time in some of my classes (ie math) not because I'm stupid or because I don't know the material, but because I just don't have the adequate time to think about how I'm going to attack everything. I did talk to the people that I needed to, but our coach doesn't prefer e-mailing when we talk to other people for important things such as what I do. So when I said that I didn't talk to the person that I needed to talk to, I wasn't untruthful, but I guess when I told our coach that I "did" talk to them, they didn't believe me. And for all of these reasons, I think that they don't think that I can be a good enough captain. But I don't think that they really understand how hard it is for me to "be at captain level processing" right now.

It is hard for me right now because I'm dealing with the death of my grandfather. I couldn't stay though one of the events because I had to make sure that my mom was ok. And plus, that wasn't a good day for me anyway. I had to recover from being almost yelled at by my coach. Like most people, I don't like it when people get in my face and practically yell at me for not doing something. Of course I wouldn't show up to decorate shirts. I didn't feel like having fun with people who yell at me and just brush it off like it is nothing.

I'm currently taking 8 classes right now, all of them academic, no electives. 5 of those classes are high level classes, no fluff. I run 2 clubs full time and I'm also in 5 other clubs that need my attention. I'm holding down good grades in all of my classes or if not, I'm doing everything that I can to make sure that I can pull my grades up. I work flexible schedule when I can at the library shelving books and DVDs. I play in a band and I need to practice and write music when I can. I'm also recording an album on my own and I need the time to be creative. When I don't have time to relax, then you can say that I start to "loose it".

I've been pretty stressed out over the past couple of weeks mostly because I don't have time to be myself. Now that I've been probated I don't know if I would, should, or want to be involved with debate. It is kind of like a bad relationship. You love the person so much, but they occasionally want to be a jackass to you and they hurt you feelings a lot. When you finally start to say "Screw it, I'm done" they come back around and you start to remember the reason why you loved them all along. However, with my debate relationship, I'm just about at that "I'm so fucking sick of you and if you ever do anything to me again, then you'll never see me again" point. But since this is my last year, I'm going to work my ass off to make sure that I don't get reprimanded again.

And to make sure that I don't get probated again, my coaches made me meet 3 guidelines before Thanksgiving.
1) Come in at least 2 days a week to help other members.
2) Mentor a member to make sure that they can achieve success.
3) Come to all planned functions and if I can't go be sure to tell one of our coaches.

I don't think that this is such a bad bargain, but at the same time, I think that it isn't fair. I feel like I'm being *singled out*  by our coaches, but at the same time, I'm going to take this opportunity and use it to my advantage by doing everything that I can to be the best social events captain that I can be. I still am going to be a little bit bitter for a while (who knows, I might be a little bit bitter until I get my full captain status back). But trust me, I'm not a liar, I'm not a awful person, I'm not a stuck up brat that doesn't know anything. I'm a good person, that is caught up in a bad situation.

Numbers

 This a small slice of my homework for this week. I thought that it was a pretty good piece of writing, so I thought that I would share it with you.

Number of times I've wandered aimlessly around the school: 3. Number of times I've wandered aimlessly around my home: 20. Number of times I've wandered aimlessly around my home trying to find my wallet: 8. Number of time I've stayed up till 1:00 trying to end my writers block: 20. Number of strings on my guitar: 6. Number of times I've broke my guitar stings 8; high E strings 8. Number of times I've been cut by a broken high E string thus making my index finger bleed for 20 minutes: 1. Number of years I've spent in Speech and Debate: 4. Number of rounds I've Debated in: about 300. Number of times I've broken into finals rounds: 4. N umber of times I've placed in Finals: 4. Number of times I've ran for Captain of the Speech and Debate Team 2. Number of times I didn't get the Captain postilion: 1. Number of times I've won the Captain position: 1. Number of bands I've played in: 4. Number of bands I'm in now: 3. Number of bands that want me to play guitar for them: 3. Number of people that don't believe me when I tell them that I've played in bands: about 80. Number of bands I've seen live: 17. Number of bands that I would love to see live 30. Number of years spent collecting albums: 5. Number of albums that I currently have in my collection: 315. Number of people in this room that don't know what an album is: about 20. Number of “friends” that I have: 40. Number of real friends that I have: 15. Number of True Blue Best Friends that I have: 3. Number of True Blue Best Friends that moved away from my Neighborhood: 3. Number that I found on the Internet: 2. Number of times I've eaten lunch alone: 50. Number of times I've broken my wrist from punching a wall: 1. Number of painful weeks spent trying to function on my injured wrist: 3. Number of times that I've written on my blog: 238. Number of journals I've filled: 3. Number of books I've published: 1. Number of books I've published about an aardvark painting his house: 1. Age when I published my book: 6. Number of August 12^th birthday's I've had: 17. Number of weeks premature: 10. Number of Times I've heard “You can't do it”: 1,000. Number of times I've heard “You can't do it because you are a girl”: over 2,000. Number of Times I wanted to give up: around 600. Number of times I've actually given up: 0

A small experiment...

I decided to see how long it would take for 3 of my "friends" to text me back. Alright, I haven't talked to most of them for a while, but it doesn't hut to try talking to them right? I'll let my tweeting do the explaing for now:

4:37 PM Ok experiment time. I'm going to text 3 friends at once and I'm going to see who replies first, and how long it took them.

4:59:These people really suck. 22 minutes and no reply. Really dudes? 

7:00: 30 minutes, 0 replies. Fuck my life

 7:30: Still no reply. How long has it been?

12:50: I waited all day. No new anything from the 3 people I texted. I'm pissed off, so yes. I'll write a song about this and it will be great.

I can't stand this anymore. I hate it. I hate sitting at home all day, hoping to find something to do with one of my "friends" but everyone is doing something else with someone and it always isn't me.

When I look around at all of my "friends" I feel so far behind them. Sure, I might be smart and everything, but they have boyfriends and girlfriends, they have things to do, but I'm sitting idle, they have fun, and I don't. Sometimes when I'm sitting alone, I wish that I had those things. I wish I had something or someone to interact with.


Like I said before, It is nice to be creative and everything, but I feel like I'm always "looking at the conversation than taking part in one". I feel bad, but what can I change? I'll write more about this later when I have time.

Not again...

I'm doing something new; I decided to write during the after effects of an argument. Right now, I'm shaking and I can't really think straight, but I do have enough focus to write about the things that are making me mad.

OK, let me set the scene; I'm driving in the car with my Mom. I ask her a question on what to do at stop signs, she takes it the wrong way. We drive around for 8 more minutes and then I take out the tape recorder on my phone and record the rest of the conversation. We return home, and then after a 15 minute break I'm replaying the conversation and I'm writing down some of the key events on the tape. When I'm done, I ask my mom if she wants to talk about what happened. She said yes, and then I asked her 3 questions. She clearly wasn't understanding what I was asking so I got more frustrated than normal and I threw my hands down and hit the couch cushion (I was sitting on the couch) and then proceed to hit myself on the forehead with my palm (It didn't hurt that bad). Although I didn't want to say that “everything is always my fault” but I did because she really wasn't listening to anything else that I was saying at that point. Then I told my mom that I needed some space in my room and I slammed the door because she was trying to trying to get in. When I slammed the door for one last time, she entered and I told her to get out, and she didn't. She was yelling at me to “give her a hug” but I told her no 3 times. She clearly wasn't listening. Then I finally told her to leave, and I don't know where she is right now. That is how my day went from great to awful in about 2 hours.

This Saturday, I played in a very successful showcase in front of 700 or so people. I was happy. That whole week, I played guitar, met new people and had fun. I was happy the whole week. I was happy even though my band mate called me “a cold heartless person” and although it made me angry, I kept being happy all week. People wanted to listen to what I said. They wanted to hear my Debate stories, they wanted to hear my jokes, they wanted to hear my guitar playing. They wanted to know me better, and they did. I seen old friends that I haven’t seen in a year or so and they haven't changed. They all know about what's going on, and even if I didn't tell them, they will find out sooner or later, and I know that they wouldn't leave me in this title wave called life.

It's sad because my family isn't like this. I feel like my parents don't want to listen to what I have to say. I feel like they don't care about how hard my life is. I feel like they don't care about me. I wasn’t to talk to them, but I just don't. I haven't talked to my Dad in 3 months. I still haven't given him that letter. When I told my Mom about my intention on giving my Dad that letter, she told me “to not do it” because if I did “then you wouldn't see your friends next week” (aka that whole last paragraph). Now, I feel like that I'm never going to talk to my Mom with some sense of normalcy.

When I was in my room sitting on the floor I told myself that I could just give up now and not worry about dealing with my damn parents ever again. For a while I thought about really beating myself up because I was so angry, but again, just like the time I tried to kill myself, I stopped and the same saying popped back into my head “You can't leave now, You are doing it for them remember?” I then realized that it was a true statement.

I always make promises to people, or that what it is in a nutshell. Let me explain, Last week, my guitar instructor told me that I would be on the cover of Guitar Player magazine one day, and that I would also be the next “big” guitarist. Now what if I end up dying before I could reach any one of these goals? It isn't like I can't reach these goals, they aren't that difficult for me to do (yes, I am that good at guitar) but I just have to make it for just a couple of more days, but I feel like a week goes by so slow now. Yes, I'm afraid like heck, and I'm not quite sure if I could make it or not, but like I always say, something is keeping me here.

I calmed down now, but I'm starting to get very anxious because I don't know what I'm going to do about my family. This week isn't looking very good. Hopefully, I can find something to look forward to.

First day back at camp.

I can't really write a whole bunch like I normally do because I'm pressed for time. So I'm going to take some time out of my day to write about music camp.

I went to music camp for the first time last year and it changed my life for the better. I got to meet so many new friends and I was really happy for a week because I found the people that were like me. I loved it. I felt like I finally found one of the places that I belonged because no one was critical of me. I wasn't stressed out all week, and I felt good to connect with 5 people that I didn't know, wait a week and then become best friends. So when the application for camp came out a couple of months ago, I just knew that I had to go back to camp.

Now the time is here. I'm back at camp this year, but my good friends are gone, there are 30 more people than there were last year, and I'm still the oldest. I'm "outside" my box, but I'm starting to crawl out more but I should be fine by the end of the week, just in time for the big concert.

I'm starting to notice that I'm not as awkward when I'm around people that are like me. I'm still having a hard time making new friends, but whenever I think that I won't, I just try to remember that half of these people don't know me and that I will meet a lot of people this week and I'm sure they don't really care if I am awkward or not.

I also have to deal with the occasional "bullying" by some of the younger kids, but I guess don't really care because they are younger than me after all, and it should roll off me very quickly. It is kind of strange because I'm the oldest and I shouldn't really be putting up with that kind of stuff anyway.

On the other non related to camp side of my life, I got my test scores back, and I got a 2 on my History exam but on the bright side I got a 3 on my English. I'm kind of shocked because I was hoping for 5's on all of them, but I think that my class grade will speak louder than my test score grade in the end because I ended each class with over 100% in both classes. I'm sure that most of those people who got 4's and 5's didn't get over 100% their classes. Anyway, I don't really care about these scores, I'm more worried about the other test but that is a story for a different time.

I'll be back blogging about my day tomorrow.

Out of pain and boredom.

For the better part of the last two days, my back has been killing me! Its starting to get better though. Yesterday, I found these liquid muscle relaxers that I used to take when my wrist was hurting. I took them last night and when I woke up this morning, I really couldn't move around. So because I really couldn't move this morning, I thought "If I can't make it out of the bed because I'm so tired, I'm not going to work today. How am I going to lift book crates?" (yes, I lift book crates for 5 hours when I go to my job. If I'm not doing that, then I'm putting things on shelves). Yes, today was my day off.

My back has been hurting for the better part of 3 days. I think that I've pulled a muscle, and that might be the case. My whole back has this really bad bruse on it and I've trying to take it easy and relax, but that really didn't help. So, I found these muscle relaxers and I can finally sit down at my desk and type everything out. I didn't go to work yesterday, and that really made me angry beacause I wanted to lift book crates all day and take a 45 minute break. Overall, I was happy that I got the day off because I finally had the time to sit down and refine the raw thoghts that were in my head all day.

(Yes I'm writing this under the infulence of muscle relaxers. I don't know if my writing will be any diffrent, but it would be cool to see if it was.)

But before I get to the "raw thoughts" I first should say that I hate having days off. I always feel like I should be doing something and when I think about that I get kind of angry because I should be doing what I normally do. I really don't get injured in summer, so I really didn't know how to react to that yesterday. I guess it was kind of nice having a day off (and mostly to myself) because I got to look out the window and see the sun shine, and enjoy the air conditoning as much as I wanted. And I'm happy that I spend so much time by myself yesterday because the prefect theme for this blog post came out of my bordom.

Like every other day, I was checking my social networks (this time Facebook) and I was just looking at my news feed. I'm not really into Facebook like I once was, but it didn't hinder my thought. "You know what? I'm the ONLY one of my friends who is single, doesn't post pictures of partying, has less than 50 friends, and still looks like their 7th grade self. Whats wrong with me?"

Alright, I know that was just a thought and nothing is really wrong with me but the question is still valid. I guess I should say "Why am I not like these people?" or "Why are these people my friends in the first place? We aren't alike at ALL".

I guess I should tell you about my "Friends" on Facebook.Look, I don't add every single person I know on Facbook. I don't add my whole 3rd period French class, I don't add the whole Debate Team, I don't add random people that I don't know. However, I do add people who I know. I add my best friends from camp, my best friends that I lost when I transfered, and the people I eat lunch with everyday. So when you add that all up, I have the wopping total of 36 friends. No, they aren't all my "Friends". Out of that 36 people, about 5 or 6 are my "I would take a bullet if I had to so you could stay alive friends" and out of those 5 or 6, 2 or 3 are the "I would die for you if I had to" friends. Subtact 2 exes, and about 5 people who I don't really like, and there you go, that is my Facebook friend list.

I really don't know why I'm not "popular" online or in life for that matter. I always thought that I was an interesting person, and people would always like me for what was on the inside and not on the outside, but that doesn't seem to be true anymore. I can go days without hearing from people, or just anyone. I always thought that that was fine at first, but I didn't realize that whats on the inside doesn't matter that much to people. I feel like no one really wants to go that deep, but then again, I do realize that it is ok if people don't get that far. I'm used to it.

I feel like I finished this post, but the rest of my thoughts are starting to spill over into something else in itself. I'll be back later so I can finish it. I'm in a lot of pain right now anyway, so I'm going to take an Advil and go to bed.

Why I write

Its 11:11 right now, and I don't feel like sleeping, and I want to blog but I don't want to blog about something serious or about music (Well I do, but just not right now). I also don't feel like writing about love, life, or my friends, because I feel like I always write about that on my blog. So because of that, I guess I'm going to just write about writing.

I've always been a writer. Always. I knew that I was going to be a writer when I first picked up a pencil in Kindergarten. Back then I thought that a writer was "someone who wrote on paper", that isn't really "correct" but I guess I was smart then too! When I was in first grade, I wrote and illustrated a story just for fun. I gave it to my teacher and she liked it so much, that she decided to have a story writing unit just for me. Eventually, I got that story published into a small book just because I could. I didn't sell it or anything, but I still have it. Now that I think about it, I was really smart then too. What kind of kid would write a story about an Aardvark gathering supplies to paint his house? I even threw in a narrator! What kid does that? (an awesome one right?)

I kept writing through Elementary school, and thats when I've really got into books. It just so happened that the awkward phase started then (look at definition four). I was that kid who read all of those Sci-Fi books. And if I wasn't reading that, I was probably reading something else; anything else really. By the time Spring Break rolled around in my 4th grade year, I completed all of the books in our classroom library. Narnia, Redwall, A Series of Unfortunate Events, I've read them all, heck, I've pretty much got all of those kid books down in my memory.

Like I said before, this is when I really started to become "awkward". Who wants to be friends with the kid who reads all the time right? No one really. I eventually quit playing with kids, and my "best friends" were my books, my pen and my pencil.

My grades started to "slip" but it wasn't because I was not understanding the material; it was because I was so bored in the classes I was in I had to do something else. So I started to doodle what my characters looked like, and I used write out plot lines when I've should have been paying attention to lectures. Eventually, my teachers got annoyed and they started to dislike me more than the regular student.

Eventually, I made it to Middle School, but little did I know that things would go downhill from there. Trust me, I didn't like transferring at all, so what did I do? I wrote. When my first year of Middle School came around, we had more time for writing in all of our classes, so I was excited. However, my writing got more criticism than I was used to. It wasn't from the people in my class, but it was from the teachers. Now that I look back on it, some of those teachers who taught me how to "write" were some of the worst teachers I've had. But one believed in me and told me that "I should write, because if I don't write, people would be missing out on the real you". I guess that is a reason why I do write to this day. I want to write so people would "get me" and to just "find out" about who I really am because so much of the assumptions that I encounter in my daily life are from the way I look. So I wish that everyone I cross paths with could read some of my writing and really see how I am.

More books, but this time they didn't have pictures in them, and they were complex. I really got into philosophy, and more abstract things in plot lines. After all of that reading and a lifetime of writing, I realized that I should major in something that I did every day. My favorite teacher (this far in my education) told me that I "NEED to major in English, Literature, or Journalism" because if I didn't "then the world couldn't be able to see what I've written, and I would let my talent go to waste". So I've been writing more, less stories, but more "words". I've been listening to albums like crazy, and I've been writing about them on my music blog. I've been following bands, and I also write articles, and predictions on what I think that my favorite bands will do with their next album/concert/whatever it might be on my music blog too. And I use this blog to just directly channel what I'm feeling. And I use my "paper and pen" journal to jot down my raw thoughts. (I also work at the library too, is that just in my future?

That is almost everything that you need to know about me and writing, and why I write so much. I could write more, but its 12:12, so I should probably be doing something else, like sleeping.

Good Luck Charm

From That Other Blog

This is my one pound coin from England. I found it on the street when I was walking around and it caught my eye. Ever since that day 3 years ago, I've carried it around in my pocket, and more recently, the change pocket in my wallet (it has a zipper, so it isn't going anywhere). I don't know why I found it, but I guess I looked down at the right time and I got lucky.

I finished this book not to long ago and it said something along the lines of "in order to keep your life in perspective, you should try to carry around something small with you to remind you of being alive and all of the memories that you've had". I put the book down and I seriously thought that that was the worst thing I've read in a book for a long time. But then I thought for a while. "Hey wait, I carry that gold coin in my pocket with me every day so I guess that this isn't too crazy of an idea".

The coin has a Dragon on it, and I always thought that Dragons are cool. They really stand for something in my mind. Dragons represent Courage and Strength and that is something I need every day. So I think it be pretty cool if I got something like this as a tattoo because it would be a pretty cool good luck charm for me to have. I'm not going to get it anytime soon, but I like having the "idea" of including something new in my life.

Single Summer

I woke up today and I started to get that feeling that everything is the same. I don't think it is the "summer life" that is getting to me, but I do think that its because I'm single.

My life is like this: I get up every day, go to work/school, come back home and play guitar for a while, get on-line and check my social networks, play some video games and get ready for bed. Yeah I'm so exciting right? Oh and if I'm not doing one of these things, it must be the weekend and I'm prepping/doing some serious ass kicking at something Debate related. That's even more exciting right? It really isn't. People tell me all the time "Oh you must be really good at Debate/Video Games/Guitar because that is all you do right? You are dedicated and that is awesome!" That is true, but I'm really lacking in the "interacting with people" department. Ironic right? You'd think that a Captain of the Speech and Debate team wouldn't have a problem with talking to other people right? And that is true, I can talk to people whenever I want to, as much as I want to as long as I don't plan on having a serious relationship with them. So in other words, I'm probably going to stay single for a while.

I don't like this thought, but it's true. I already know why; I'm too nice, and I'm just too "awkward" (to hell with that word, I'm finding something else to use). Hate me if you want to, but I've only been in 3 serious relationships in my life, and right before they all broke with me they all said said the same thing; "I like you and everything, but you are just too nice, and it feels like we didn't make it out of the friend stage." The first time I heard it, I was like "What? You have to be kidding me? How can someone be "too nice" in a relationship". I was sad for a while, but it didn't really get to me. Then when I heard it a second time, I said "What? You have to be kidding me? How could I be too nice again?". Then when my most recent ex broke up with me I said "What? You have to be kidding me? Why do they always break up with me like this? Am I just a softie? Am I as soft as jello?" (of course not).As you can tell, I'm not getting anywhere. Its all the same "I like you but (insert bad excuse here)". I don't know if I always go for jackasses or if it's me. I don't want to say that I date jackasses, because that is a lie, but I also don't want to say that its my fault for the lame relationships all the time.

I always used to say "I'm going to die alone with a stack of unpublished books by my bedside. Then people are going to realize that they missed out on a pretty cool person." I also used to say that "My ex is going to date me again when they realized that I was on my way to being someone on this green planet". I don't know what happened, but I stopped saying that. I don't know what happened this time, but I'm saying it again. Although I'm working my hardest to feel better (Trust me, I'm slowly starting to feel better every day!) I really, truly, from the bottom of my being, think that I'm going to die alone with a stack of unpublished books by my bedside.

I don't know what I'm going to do to stop myself from being single. But when I try...(Ok, funny story time). When I try, the person of my interest is taken, or isn't "out of the woods yet". I got involved with this person once, but I found out they were "taken" (they totally weren't! I know this for a fact) but at least I got a good friend out of it who thought that I was awkward and pretty cool. But I don't want to settle for friends, I just want to not be alone, in my room playing guitar on weekends. I don't know how I'm going to do this. There is a voice in my head saying that "Oh, this isn't true, you won't be single for the rest of your life, just wait for a little while longer and things will be great!" but I'm starting to doubt that. It is like waiting for the Tooth Fairy, you have that hope that she "might" come so you stay up late all night but you end up falling asleep. When you do wake up, you see that your tooth is gone. That is how I'm feeling now. I feel like I need to quit waiting around and let nature take its course. But how much longer do I have to wait? I'm starting to give up.

On being Awkward.

 People always call me awkward, but I came to the realization that I don't know what "awkward" is anyway. So I got online and found these definitions to see if I fit any of them.


1. (obsolete) In a backwards Direction.
This is an outdated term anyway. It would have been used in a way like "you are facing the awkward direction, please turn around". I don't stand in the backwards direction (well, not most of the time) so I don't think that people would be using this to describe me anyway.

2. Lacking dexterity in the use of the hands, or of instruments.
This is a true statement. I really can't use my hands when I'm nervous because I shake so much! Here is a story. I was at this Debate meet once (yeah, I know...) and I was trying to write down a question, and what do you know, right when I pick up my pen, its halfway across the room on the floor.

I think that I'm pretty good with my hands because I can type really fast (my best benchmark so far is 100 words per minute) and I play guitar, so at least I think that I'm good with my hands and dexterity. But I drop things a lot, and it always has to be around people, so I think that this definition is somewhat accurate.


3.Not easily managed or effected; embarrassing.
This is an adverbial phrase (or in other words, it modifies a verb). So if this was the case, we would be describing a situation. For example; When I drank the orange juice after I brushed my teeth, the taste was incredibly awkward. I'm not too hard to get along with, and I'm really not embarrassing at all, so that definition doesn't fit well.


4.Lacking social skills, or uncomfortable with social interaction.
Yeah. This is me. I love people and talking in front of people but for some reason, I just can't talk to people. Take for example, that kid I had a crush on in class last year. We didn't look like we had things in common, but we did. I however, had to bring some "weird" stuff into the conversation. (What else do you do when people are looking at you... in the EYES!)
"Um, did you hear about that kid who got suspended for bringing that confetti to 3rd period last week?"
"No, I didn't hear about that. Did you see it?"
"Ummm. No, but my friend did and they said that it was so funny. You know what I was at lunch 3rd period last week, I think you were looking at me and...Oh whoops."

See what I mean?

So I guess I'm closest to the 4th definition. I just don't get it, why don't people call me awkward so often. It is kind of obvious that I'm "different" and or "awkward" so why should that be pointed out to me all of the time? Heck, I guess that this is one of my pet peeves. Whatever, I think I'm used to being awkward anyway.

The big question

Ever since my last post, I've been trying to do something each day to get my mind off of feeling bad. Its working, and that is what I'm enjoying right now. Today I thought that it would be reasonable to write in this blog more, and just write more in general. Although I've been having fun reviewing albums on my music blog, I thought that it would be cool if I would "put some life into this blog". I want to say that "noting new has happened since the last post", but that would be a lie. A lot of things has happened since the last post and I'm pretty glad that I'm here to write about it and share it.

Every day, I wake up and say "I'm alive! I made it thought the night! Why am I awake? (alright, I say that sometimes, but not all the time. I never get enough sleep). But this conversion goes two ways; I usually brush it off and just go about my day, or I think about that question all day. Today was one of those days. I was sitting in my programing class and I had just enough "me time" to think about this question. I got it down to 3 simpler questions that I have to ask myself so that I can understand the big question "why am I here?"

What do I want to do with my life?

How can I achieve that?

How can I keep myself happy?

Those are the "big 3" that are always on my mind.

I guess we all want to answer the question "why we are here" but something is different about me, I'm thinking about this all the time because I didn't die on that one day (yeah, I forgot the date.). It's like this "If I'm here, then I'm here for a reason right?" and this is a true statement. Now that I think about it, I have a lot of reasons to stay alive. I don't know them all, but I know that I would be missing out on a lot of cool things if I'm not here in about a month. Heck, I'll be missing a lot of cool things if I wasn't here period (like a Sleater - Kinney reunion. It could happen people! Just believe!). And yes, I would also miss the kid who is like my "little sister". She plays drums and also listens to Sleater - Kinney. Her mom has purple hair, and I feel like I should have been in there family all along. I didn't think about it then, but I would feel so bad if she found out that I wasn't around anymore to help her play drums, or just around in general to play more of our crazy songs. So for now, I'll be around "just in case" any un-expected jam sessions just happen to pop up anytime soon.

Although this week is almost over, I'm still planning to do something relatively fun this weekend. My guitar needs to be cleaned, so I'm going to clean it and change the strings this weekend, so I can enjoy playing more. (I get distracted when I see dirt and grime on the strings of my guitar, and I hate it when the strings buzz.)

I'll blog tomorrow, or at least I should.

The Hardest Part

I've been trying to write this blog post for a while, but I think that this might be the hardest thing that I've have written in my life. I've been a writer for a while, and although I'm not that old, I've written a lot of things but none of them have taken me this long to write ever. I've been sitting in my room for the better part of three weeks trying to think of how I would write this post. I've gotten pretty close to what I wanted to say, and I think that this is as close as I'll ever get to writing about how I really feel inside and what I've been thinking for a while. Everything that you will read in this blog post is 100% true. I'm not making any of this up so that I could get blog hits, nor am I writing this out of pity to make myself feel better. I'm really writing how I feel, and none of this is going to be self censored by me.

If you haven't know me for that long, or if you known me for a while, you should know that I've been diagnosed with Depression 4 or so years ago, and I've been getting depressive episodes every now and then. But for the past month now, things are just as bad or worse as they were when things first started. Things have gotten so bad, I've been close to killing myself for the past 3 or so years, but last month was the most serious, most extreme attempt that I had. Although I didn't go to the hospital or anything, I was as close as I've ever been to dying.

I didn't really "plan" it but I knew how I was going to do it. I used to be a biology nerd, and I realized that if I cut my Ulnar artery deep enough (the big blue thing traveling through your wrist), then I could just bleed to death and then then everything would be over and that I wouldn't have to deal with anything. I had text messaged several people, and I took those peoples advice and I didn't do anything to badly harm myself. I do have some scars on my left arm, but that was just from "mapping" out where I would cut across my arm. They aren't really deep scars and they healed up quickly.

I haven't really told anyone about this until now because I was afraid of two things; I didn't want to loose my friends, and I didn't want people to think that I'm crazy for trying to kill myself. I'm not sure if you know how that feels. Its like being really sick with a disease. You could tell people that you are sick, and then get the help that you needed, but become increasingly isolated whilst getting better, or you could not tell people that you are sick, do the things that you would normally do, keep the people around you, but die because you didn't get the help that you needed. So you can tell what kind of a place I'm in right now. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I know that I'm going to loose some friends when they read this. I know that I'm going to be judged for killing myself. I know that people are going to think that I'm crazy and will just drop talking to me all together. If you are one of those people that will stop talking to me after I'm done saying what I really need to say, I totally understand how you feel, but just remember what you are doing. I don't suggest walking out on a person in need of help, but if you want to do that, then do it.

The second worse day of my life was walking into school the next day and trying to "act" like nothing happened. I didn't put a bandage or anything on my arm (I should have) but I did have on a hoodie in near 90 degree weather. That isn't too uncomon for me because I always wear a hoodie, but some people had to ask me questions. I honestly didn't want to answer back, but I had to. "No nothing is wrong. Why do you ask?". And even if the people that I do know asked me why I looked so "different" that day, I did the "I was up really late looking over my notes for finals, and I didn't really get that much sleep that night." but in reality, I was crying my eyes out which gave me bloodshot eyes, and I didn't sleep that night because I was so scared about what happened. But I just couldn't tell them all that I almost killed myself because I didn't want whatever welfare agency coming to my house, asking me questions, parents going to jail because they didn't do anything and me staying at a foster home because mine is not "safe" anymore. I would have liked to tell someone how I felt, but in reality, why would I do that?

A day or too later, I was in some really hot water with some classmates of mine. I probably won't forget this conversation as long as I live:

Classmate One: "Hey are you alright today? You don't look very good"
Classmate Two:"You look sick, do you need to go to the nurse or anyone?"
Me: "No I'm good."
Classmate Two:"Are you sure? You probably are getting a heatstroke, you should take off that hooide of yours"
Me:(I got lucky because I had bandaged my arm that day) "Alright fine, but I'm only pushing up my sleeve up a little"

{Semi awkward silence}

Classmate One:"Hey whats that on your arm?"
Me:"*slight pause* Do we have to go over this now?"
Classmate One:"Yes. If we don't then we won't know whats wrong with you"

Alright, slight break from me. I could have easily said that I went to the hospital for an IV drip, and those "band-aids" on my arms were from where they missed, but I didn't. I told myself to be brave.

Me:"Well, fine, I cut my arm yesterday, but that’s all I'm telling you"
Classmate Two: "Oh, did you have an accident?"
Me:"Yes. Yes I did. I had a knife in my hand and I sneezed and bam, it slipped and now I got a cut on my arm."
Classmate One:"Wow. At least you are alright"

I don't know if they picked up on the truth that was in my statements, or if they just latched onto the humor in my words. It doesn't matter to me. What matters is that one of them texted me outside of class to see if everything was ok and that "if you wanted to talk about anything, that you I have their number". What does matter is that I did talk to them, but I didn't say anything about being on my floor for 30 minutes thinking about slicing my arm open. That is why I'm writing this. If there is a chance that you are reading this, I'm sorry that I lied, or at least didn't tell you that I was on my floor for 30 minutes.

Now that I think about it, I've been such an jackass to people when I should have been asking for help from them. Here is an example: I was having a really hard day and all I wanted to do is eat my sandwich and leave so I could be alone and play Angry Birds by myself. I was tense and nervous because the night before wasn't a good night for me. All day, people asked me "Hey, are you alright?" and you know how I responded. Someone at our table asked me "Hey, you don't look too good today? Tell us what is wrong." What I did next shocked me because I'm not quick to anger, and I definitely don't get mad when I'm out in public. "Hey NOTHING IS WRONG! QUIT ASKING ME! I'm tired of YOU PEOPLE asking me if I'm ALRIGHT! Just SHUT UP and let me eat IN QUIET!" after that I felt better, but at the same time I didn't feel better at all. I'm sorry if I sounded pretty angry, and I'm sorry if I made your day pretty bad. It's hard when you are trying to hide something, but people want to know if you feel better or not and they keep asking you if you feel ok today and you really don't. It is harder when you are trying to keep something from everyone you know outside your house.

Most of the time when I do get close enough to people to let them in in my life and they release how I'm feeling I never tell them what really happens in my life. I guess you can say that I'm afraid of telling people anything because I'm afraid to get "close". I told my best friend about how things were 3 years ago, but I transferred and I never seen them again. I told my ex how I felt and they told me that "I get to angry, and because I get too angry, I don't need to date them anymore." I told my other "good" friend about this, and they thought that I was "kidding". I can't believe these people sometimes. I know that saying, "If they can't tell when you are serious and when you are joking, they are not your friend" but I don't know what I can say to that. I don't know if that is true or not. Most of the time, my friends know about how "sarcastic I am" and "how I'm very "monotone" (I despise that word! I'm not monotone at all, I'm just tired. Seriously) and how "even if she was sad we would know." but I don't they understand that at all. I'm not saying that everyone thinks I'm this way, but people should take a step back and look at me for what I am, and not what they think that I am. I'm sarcastic because it's my own defense to being picked on for so long (I do know how to use humor to my advantage). I'm "monotone" because you can't here me when I'm excited, heck, I never get excited at school. See me at a debate meet or something, I don't sound bland when I'm doing something that I love. I'm sad; that is true but you know why I don't tell anyone.

Recently, when the days and nights got bad, I took a muscle relaxer and I felt better (it isn't illegal for me, my doctor told me that I'm allowed to take some). When the days and nights got really bad, I've thought about getting "so wasted that I wouldn't wake up on time so that I could skip school the next day to recover, and I'll get wasted the next night so I'll never have to see those people again. Although I didn't do that, I've been having those thoughts more often. I've been getting more risky with myself. I want to get drunk, I want to smoke pot, I want to smoke tobacco so I could just "feel better" but that really won't help me at all because that isn't what I need at all. I need someone to listen. I know that Jack is nice to you if you are nice to him and drink him, and Ben and Jerry are there for you when you need to cry and eat some exotic ice cream. These things are not going to make me feel better at all. Where are my friends when I need them? Because I need them more than I need anyone right now.

I think that I should get a fresh start. Let me take the chance to introduce myself again. I'm a nice person. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm complex. I'm giving. I'm interested in you if you are interested in me. I'm not a freak. I'm awkward sometimes, but if I wasn't awkward, I wouldn't be me. I' get lonely sometimes. I stare at my cell phone and I wonder if I will ever get a text back from the person I texted 4 hours ago. I'm not clingy, I just miss the people I'm with. I wonder if I'll ever be in a “real” relationship. Most of the things you've heard about me are wrong. I'm not that bad when you get to know me. I'm sarcastic sometimes, but that is only when I'm nervous. I'm Captain of the Speech and Debate team. I'm a musician. I record music in my bedroom. I'm afraid to be happy. I’m a blogger. Every night I wish that my life would get a little bet better every day. I collect albums in my spare time. I only had 3 best friends in my life. I cry myself to sleep sometimes. I “really” tried to kill myself once, but I promise that I won't as long as you are here on this crazy, crazy ride with me. I want to know about you. Will you let me know you?

I met my hero once at a chance accident at a concert once. (I think they heard about my blog, and they might be reading this now, if so Hi!). Anyway, she told me "Don't quit playing guitar. Keep playing. Keep doing what you do. If you do what you love everyday then you will be happy wherever you are and wherever you go. If you don't remember anything else, remember this: The world needs people like you, and if you end up leaving, then the world will be sad that you are gone. By the way, I like your shirt!" That quote went through my head right when I had my knife next to my wrist. I waited a few moments, and then I realized that I really shouldn't be gone. There is still a lot of stuff that I want to do and I'm going to put my best effort into doing that every day. If you said that, (you know who you are) Thanks for saving my life.

If you read all of this, no matter how long it took you. Thank You too. Thanks for understanding and reading all of this. I might have sounded somewhat bitter, but trust me, I wasn't trying to do that at all. I was just trying to tell the world how I fell and I'm glad that I did. I know you and you want to talk to me, you probably have my number so text me. I'm always with my phone. If you don't know me and you still want to talk to me for some reason, instant message me on aim: riotxgrrlxamy. I'm always online.



Thanks a bunch.

Letter to my Dad.

I haven't been getting along with my Dad for a while, but I finally got sick of it this week, so I decided to write a letter to him and tell him what was on my mind. I would usually keep something like this to myself, but I thought that you all might be interested in reading it because it is more of that "unfiltered" me that I've been working on. I'm going to just let the letter speak for itself, so here it is.

Dear Dad,

This week should be one celebration, but instead, it is one that is different for me. I have had the worse week at home that I had in a long time. This week, I almost killed myself, and you probably didn’t know. Thankfully, something stopped me and I thought that I would write this letter.

I haven't told you this, but I've been severely depressed for 6 years now and I have been seeking treatment off and on for 3 years. My Mom and I haven't told you about this until now. I thought that I should due to the climate of this week.

Right now, I would like it if you closed out the world for how ever long it takes for you to read this letter and realize how serious this is. I'm not exaggerating anything and I'm fabricating anything, I’m just telling how things were up until this week.

You can't tell it on my face most days, but things aren't the way that they look. Sure, If you look at my appearance, you might say that say that things are fine, but that isn't true. If I push up the sleeves on my hoodie, and look at my arms, you will see lines that are cream colored. They are faded. They are not deep, but each one of these lines is a different scar, made by me. Each one of these lines has a story. Each one of these lines is a different scar. Sometimes I would give myself a scar as a “punishment”, other times I would give myself a scar if I was mad at myself. Other times I would give myself a scar when I wanted to do something more serious, like kill myself. I got the closest I ever did to that on Monday.

On Monday, I just got sick of dealing with my life, and I thought that this would be a reasonable time to just slash my left wrist open and bleed to death on my floor. I took a knife and I started to drag it across my wrist, but butt I stopped although I was slightly bleeding, something told me to stop.

I haven't told you about this because I was afraid of what you would say. The times that I did try to ask for help, you just yelled and took things away from me. But that just increased the pain for me. Because of Monday, I realized that even if I do kill myself, in the future, you have to know the main reason why I would like to die. Please don't find this letter shocking.

You are the main reason why I want to kill myself. You are never there when I achieve something large in my life and when you do, you strike me down or never seam to care. You don't talk to me like you should. Your punishments are brutal. I don't know when you are not. I don't know you.

When I walk up to the podium on any given Saturday, I look at the judge that is jugging my round, I look at my opponent and give them a smile (no matter how serious the round may be), and I look to the coaches sitting in on the round, and I look at the parents that are there too. I don't see you. Last month, I made it to semi-finals at the National Qualifying debate meet, or in other words, I almost made it to the National Debate meet. After the round, I seen the competitors parents give them a hug. I asked myself one question, “Where was my parent?”.

Where was my Dad? Where was he when I graduated Middle School? Where was he when I learned to ride my bike? Where was he when I had my saxophone solo at the band concert? Where was he when I made it to my first final round in Debate? Where were the Birthday Presents from him? Where was he? He wasn't there. You were not there and that hurt.

Even when you did make it, you did one of two things (sometimes both). 1): You didn't care, 2): You yelled at me. The time that you yelled at me at my youth softball game will be forever scared in my memory just like the real scars on my arm.

Who can blame a 10 year old for missing the catch at a youth softball game? I remember you yelling and the tears that were falling down my cheeks. I remember my teammates forming a wall between me and you. I remember the other parents holding you back from me so that you wouldn't hit me. I remember my teammate telling me that things would “be ok” and that I shouldn’t cry because “the days would get better and that my dad would get better too.” But that was a lie.

Two months ago you yelled at me in the car when I was driving. You told me to stay in my lane and if I didn't you would “Whoop my ass with a belt so hard that the teas would stop”. That is what you said to a 16 year old. I remember saying something back that wasn't as harsh, but it fit because I was scared for my life. I ran to my room, looked the door and waited. I came out and you yelled at me and told me to “apologize to you Because I am nothing but a Child and you are he parent.” My question is this “Why should I apologize?” That night, I had a dream that you chocked me to death. I didn't go to sleep after that.

To this day, I don't know why you say the things that you do. I don't know why you don't realize that I'm not an “Out of control Teenager that need to be disciplined”. I now feel like home isn't a safe place for me and I thank God every day that I'm 1 day closer to leaving home. To me, Home isn't where the Heart is, home is where my Dad yells at me.

I don't like holidays at home. I really don't like Christmas. Its the time of the year when the stress from Finals collides with the stress of my family. Its the “go get your mom a present” or “the be grateful for what you have” speech time of the year. Two months ago, I got a gift from you that I didn't ask for (It was the Wii). I was surprised because I didn't ask for it. I recall saying that “A Wii is really cool, I think that I would Like one if I had the money to buy one.” but when I found out that I had gotten a Wii on Christmas, I didn't know how to react. Although I love it now,I didn't then. You told me that “I don’t' appreciate what I have, and that I damn well should because people don't have what I have.”. Although that is true (to a point) I think that you should know that I LOVE everything that I have. I know that. But its a LIE to say that I don't.

I also think that it is wrong to buy me something that I do not want, give it to me with the intention that I'll keep it, and then take it out of my room while I'm at school. I know, you didn't like how how I said things last Sunday; I get it. But I didn’t' like how its my obligation to help you whenever something goes wrong with your technology. I had tonsillitis last weekend. My tonsils were enlarged, I had a fever, I couldn't talk and it felt like my head was being hit with a hammer. Despite this, I had to fix your iPad when I didn’t have the slightest clue what was wrong. It feels like you can't take no for an answer. Why should I help you when I don't know how to fix it? Do you want me to try to fix what is wrong with your technology and mess it up more? If that was your intention, you should have told me that before you yelled at me.

Simply, why would you give me a gift with my name on it, and expect me to use it for school when you are just going to take it from me with no reason? The iPad was in my drawer and not in my backpack because I needed a case for it. I told you when I got it that I wasn't going to take it to school with me because “I need a case for it”. This whole iPad matter is just like like our relationship. You give me something, take it away because I don't have “discipline”, feel bad, and give me something else to make up for it. I'm sick of this.

You probably heard the saying “Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” in my case, it is “Sticks and Stones will hurt my bones, but my Fathers words will always hurt me.” I do not care or do not know if your words are meant to break me down , but you should know that your words do have an impact on me. It doesn't matter if you remember what you say to me when you are mad, I will always remember what you say to me no matter what happens, or what you buy me. Material objects will never make up for the words and hostile actions that are imposed on me.

Sometimes what you say isn't important, sometimes, it is what you do. Actions always speak louder than words, sometimes you don't need to say anything to me, I can just read the mood on your face like a book. It isn't cool to have a father that is predictable one day and not the other. It is like walking on landmines. It would be nice of you were direct with your actions instead of leaving things up in the air.

Because of this, I'm afraid to talk to you. I shouldn't be afraid to talk to you. No one should be afraid to talk to their father. I'd rather look someone 10 inches taller than me and tell them why they are wrong in the Debate arena than talk to you when you are angry. The difference between someone 10 inches taller than me and you is that they aren’t thinking about killing me. The look that you have in your eyes when you are mad is something you need to see for yourself. One of my favorite teachers told me that “If you can't look at yourself when you are mad, then there is no reason for you to get mad at others”.

When I think about it, I don't know how anyone can deal with you when you are angry. Heck, I don't even know how anyone can deal with you. Even better, I don't know how you can deal with yourself. I wonder if you ever think about what you do when you have some time away from people. I think that you should. I can't speak for you, but I know if you think about all of the things in your life and write them down, and pick out the bad ones, you still haven't dealt with them properly. I can safely say this with several people behind me, you need to change.

Think of it this way, if you do not like the way that I act, then you must change the way that you act. If you tell others what to do, but yet still do those same things yourself, then that is a hypocritical action to take. The better action would be to work the areas that are not positive with you, and then take the right measures to fix them.

Again, I don’t' necessary know if you know how you are acting, but I'll be more than happy to tell you some of the things that you do.

1. Wake me up at night by slamming doors.
2. Leaving out trays and plates on the counter.
3. Leaving cups full of ice/drink in places where they would be likely to fall (refrigerators).
4. Not talking to others in acceptable ways.
5. Non acceptable actions while driving, not limited to texting while driving, yelling at other drivers, drifting lanes, tailgating, speeding, etc.

Does this sound familiar to you? It should because these are some of the things that you yell at me for doing. Like I said before, this is a hypocritical thing for you to do. How can you tell me to stop doing these things when you do these things yourself? How am I supposed to stop doing these things yet you do them? Should I yell at you when you do these things to give you a taste of your own medicine? If you want me to change, then you should work on not doing these things. I'll slowly start to change when you do.

But end the end, if you don't do these things, and I don't see any improvement in you, I'm going to ask you to visit a therapist with Me and Mom so we can talk about these things. I see this this way, if we keep things in for too long, then we start to decay on the inside because we can't let out those negative feelings. This is why I started to go to treatment, I got sick of being the way that I was. I couldn't share the things that were going on in my life, and when I did share those feelings with someone, I felt better about it, and then my life started getting better. I know if you were to talk to someone (it doesn't need to be a mental health professional, but it helps) you would feel better when you were done. Hopefully, you will choose to talk to someone about what is going on, because we are all tired of dealing with you and your emotions.

I hope it never comes to this, but if you ever get extremely mad at me again, just think of me on the floor of my room with both of my wrists slashed open and a knife on the floor. Think about it for a while. Do you want me to be here one day and gone tomorrow? Do you want me to be dead? Right now, I think that you do. You seem not to care about me sometimes, and the way that I see it now, you probably wouldn't care if I was dead. If this isn't true, I hope that you do whatever you can to change my mind. Don't wait too long because if you do, then you never know when I'll be gone.