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I just spent an hour looking at engagement rings. Not the synthetic diamonds for which I was once willing to settle. This time, I searched the monsters that would look ridiculous on my dainty hand. I'm tired of being sensible. Maybe it's spring fever but I'm ready to actually shoot for that guy who's out of my league. The professor, the one with the football scholarship, the one who's so good-looking he almost has to be gay. Why the hell not? I'm tired of spending my nights reading, writing, watching youtube videos and waiting to get a text from my lame friends, hoping someone will let me buy them ice cream. I'm a special girl and there is no reason I should be alone tonight. Tomorrow, I make my move(s). |
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Your tattoo didn't prevent him from beating me. Your fliers didn't prevent him from raping me. Fuck off Fort Hays. Fuck off everyone who thinks they can make a difference by purchasing a goddamn ribbon. Stop raising money for awareness. I didn't need the reminder. |
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My life has been brightening up a bit. Between the attention from the cute gay kid in my class and the magic dress from work, I've been pretty happy. I don't feel so alone all the time. Summer might be a little different. I won't have the kids in class laughing at my muttered comments or complimenting my clothes, boosting my self-esteem each day. Ashy's miserable. I hate it because I know exactly what she's going through. I wish she'd just call so I can see how this whole breakup is working out for her. At the same time I'm afraid she'll just fall for me. She needs time with single, cheerful, straight girls. I hate it that I'm so glad it's over. Especially since she has no one else to turn to. Ben and I have been the only constants in her life. I'm not looking forward to her destruction. I'm absolutely in love with Pandora but it's definitely pissing my internet off. Mostly because when I hear a song I like I have to download the whole damn album. I keep listening to a song by Mustard Plug over and over because it reminds me of stupid Chris. I keep fighting the urge to link the video to Ashy. I figure at this point in the breakup it would only hurt more. I'm glad 12 people Like my pornographic memory. Back to my dreams of Dr. Tostenson. Get out of here, Nick. |
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Didn't even bother shaving. I'd rather just talk to myself anyway. Cabin fever causes me to over analyze every bit of contact he throws at me. Liked my status, must mean he wants to date me. Xu hasn't been wobbly enough for me lately. Brax is really far away. I should have tucked him into my coat when I had the chance. Then we could be laughing and throwing things right now. I have a feeling he's not going to think I'm so awesome in a few years. Why the fuck is a decent radio transmitter so difficult to find? Returning bitch number two tomorrow. What to do about Eric. |
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Welcome back, Thunder. I've missed you all winter. I want to get laid tonight. I should have thought about that a few hours ago. I always forget how much planning and effort goes into convincing someone to sleep with me. Shower, shave, plaster face in whorey makeup, spend hour setting every strand of hair in place, purchase necessities, decide on a location, find ugly girls to surround me and depart when my goal is met, consume just enough alcohol to forget but not so much that I'm a complete mess. So far, I've been in my living room all afternoon, only leaving the couch to smoke and dance to ska. So not getting any tonight. Maybe Keli will force me to go out. Ugh. I need to get a credit card for the few times I actually have to purchase the music I want to listen to. *frownyface* |
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I want nothing more than to be high right now. Tripping, floating, I don't care. I want to lay here and stare at the ceiling, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. Granting the fortitude to travel in and out of consciousness and to dream a life outside of my physical self. I want the awe and beauty of inebriation. To be alone but not lonesome. I want to ride out the rest of my evening in a state of absolute contentment and mirth. I want to create something splendid tonight. I'm tired of feeling so cold. If I could be invisible I would curl up next to Spurlock and steal the warmth of his furry beard. I've grown quite confused by his behavior lately. I'll spare myself the trouble of waking up afraid and confused. Even if it means giving up each comfort I long for tonight. You're welcome, Morning Rachel. Now it's time to go write something worthwhile and drift into a normal, uneventful slumber. |
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My subtle pleas no longer left unanswered. Perhaps it's the blonde hair. Or maybe the look in my eyes revealing that I've finally dumped my baggage in the ditch on the way to class. My room needs cleaning. My wardrobe needs a minor update. My hair needs more purple. So relieved that I have a chance to rock out and engage in much needed napping for an entire week. I don't think I'll work as much as planned. It's all over for now. I'll keep the panic to a minimum. |
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This isn't out of hate or anger. This is nothing cinematic. Nothing saddens me more than finally accepting the truth and saying goodbye to my best friend. I just wish at one point he cared enough for honesty. But silly me. I was dumb enough to listen to his words while ignoring his actions. |
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Wake up alone. In my own bed, clean, sober, rested. No pain. No pink hand prints. No bite marks. Next to Xumonster. Next to New Walter. Find enough money in my wallet for breakfast. Go into a long day of work, leave with enough money to buy some fast food and a big soda for a late lunch. Arrive to an empty home. Free of strangers, free of fake laughter, free of dogs. Shower. Clean again. Beautiful again. Lost five pounds. Popsicle. Snuggles with Xu. Filth on TV. No six hour nap. Productivity. My fantasies have gotten much simpler with age. |
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I realize my posts have been really depressing for like, a year. So today I'm going to write about the happy things in my life. Xu woke me up today by walking all over me, meowing. When I opened my eyes he was sitting on the table in front of me, inches from my face, staring. He's quite creepy at times but I love him. It's kind of pretty out. Sleet, ice, clouds. I hate driving in this weather but I enjoy the calm spookiness of it. I don't have any cigarettes or money so I've been enjoying clove cigars. They remind me of my slutty days, the dorms, Bryce, Chelsea, Meat Day, and pretty much every perception I possess of beauty. My second class was canceled. I'm neither happy nor upset about this. It's a decent class where we basically just hang out and write. I enjoy it but it gets rather mundane. My plans for tonight: finish up on homework. Hopefully someone wants to hang out. Even if it's just Lucas and Megan. Otherwise I might just waste another night on chatroulette. This is my life. It's boring but I'm sure you were getting tired of reading about breakups and drug withdrawal. I'm content. |
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You, imbrued with lust violating my being Why again? Why you? |
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I'm tired of feeling stranded. Lack of funding cements me to Kansas. My progress in college has plateaued. I feel like I'm stuck in time. Taking the same classes over and over again, never any closer to graduation. Making the same mistakes. Experimenting with addictions and mental states just to amuse myself. Life is happening for the people I grew up with. I miss people who never give me a second thought. I don't want to be here anymore. I don't want to be me anymore. |
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I finally went to that english class after a week of skipping it due to nerves. It went surprisingly well and I hope that's enough to keep me on the right track. Maybe instead of being afraid of that guy in class, I should attempt to impress him. Or I could recognize that I have less than nothing to offer and continue getting fucked up and sleeping with losers to pass time. I thought I was getting used to the whole not sleeping thing but I passed out around one and woke up at 6:30. My afternoon no longer exists and I hope that I can sleep tonight. Josh's party was amazing aside from the fact that he drank too damn much and turned into the drama queen that he is. I don't know what all I drank or smoked but I'm not jonsing right now so I don't consider that night a relapse of any sort. Scott Eschbaugh knew I was related to Eric when he heard my laugh. We talked about him for quite some time. I have no idea what a 30 year old is doing hanging out with a bunch of kids but asking might have been rude. I guess it's not too big of an age difference. Everyone has kids these days. I wonder if my parents ever had to hire a sitter to go get plastered. Ben gave me Ashlinn's number for an hour. I'm pretty sure it was just a series of ones. This was before he passed out and puked all over himself. Finally Frank. I'm feeling surprisingly well despite the freezing weather. I'm ready to move somewhere warm for a while. I wish I had a really good job where I could move south for the winter. I wish I didn't smoke. I enjoy listening to the wind. Smoking ruins it. |
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I simply do not feel good enough to coexist with the rest of humanity. I thought this semester would be easier. It's not. Every day is a struggle for me. It wasn't always this difficult. I either had people or drugs helping me along the way. Anymore I have to argue with myself just to get out of bed. I cry through every assignment. I bang my head through all the readings and no matter how hard I work, it's not good enough. I'm not as intelligent as everyone else. I don't pick up on things as easily. To make matters worse, I can't stop criticizing myself. I would stand up for myself and work harder next time, but I don't like myself and I don't feel like I'm capable of what others are. This is why I want to die. Hear me out. I'm suffering. Yes, I know other people have it much worse than I do but if they are suffering as much as I am, perhaps they should kill themselves as well. If they have hope for a better future, then maybe they should tough it out but my future doesn't seem all that bright. I really don't have all that much to live for. I have no goals, no direction and frankly, life scares the shit out of me. It's selfish. Sure, the people who had a part in the way I turned out will feel like failures. My facebook friends will write on my wall about how they're going to miss me, then bring up some event where I made them laugh and insist that those times didn't have to end. People will feel guilty for all the things they could have done for me. Others will have a constant feeling that something is missing, knowing that I was always there if and when they needed me. But is it really selfish to want to end my misery? Or is it selfish of them to want me to continue living through this hell that I've created? When someone dies of cancer, we grieve, but we also acknowledge that we should rejoice since their pain has come to an end. Why should my loved ones not rejoice when my illness ultimately kills me? It seem kind of petty to want to kill yourself over class or an assignment. But not really. Emotions are amplified and everything seems impossible. I can't seem to accomplish anything anymore. Going to the store is enough to send me into cardiac arrest. I've experienced self-medication and that came to a screeching halt for various reasons. I can't go to class without valium, I can't see my parents without klonopin, I can't sleep without a bowl and I can't study without adderal. I had it all worked out but I couldn't afford it anymore. Plus it's kind of illegal and frowned upon by loved ones. So here I am. I want to die. I won't do it. If I was going to do it, I would have done it by now. I just wish I knew what to do. I can't talk to people who care about me because they all say the same things, begging me not to do it for their own selfish reasons. I can't talk to a professional because I would end up at a hospital or a police station. There is nothing society can do for the suicidal. Maybe we should just allow them to relieve themselves of such misery. But seriously kids, don't do it. |
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Things have to change. From now on each day will be different. Between 6 am and 10 pm, I will not spend more than an hour in bed. I will go to bed before midnight. I will make a meal out of one fresh fruit or vegetable. I will not exceed ten cigarettes. I will make time to roll around in nip with Puzzle. I will not skip class, no matter how nervous or unprepared I am. I will complete at least one household task. I will not smoke pot to cure a minor headache, stomach ache, cramps or loneliness. I will spend at least an hour on homework. I will have one conversation where I do not talk about myself. I will not beg people to spend time with me. I will consume at least one meal. I will spend at least fifteen minutes on my hair. I will go on a walk no matter how tired or scared I feel. I will not make unreasonable goals. I will stick to my goals. |
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The longing still won't go away. I decided a long time ago that if I could change, things could go back to the way they were. Unfortunately my changes have sent me deeper into isolation. Farther away from those I thought I loved. I can't help but wonder if those were actual changes or just mistakes. I feel like the same me, just alone. I'm off the pills. I'm miles away from the house that caused my destruction. I still sleep for unreasonable hours. I stare at Xu longingly, pleading for someone to hold. My insulin reaction style diet gives me tummy aches. My unfinished paintings remind me that I'll never be. Bland routines Misery Self-destruct Don't mind me. If I had the funding to see my nephew on a regular basis, I know I would be happier. I don't even know what my niece looks like. Kenny knows babies scare me. I'm still curious. Plush creatures remind me that I'm not missed. Too much of a failure to write the note. I wish I was worth the effort. |
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It has been several days since my last hit. The detox has been absolute hell. Being around people makes me want to cry. Being alone makes me cry. Bullshit on TV makes me want to vomit. Smoking and eating make me vomit. I cut off one needy, dependent loser for another needy, dependent not-so-much-of-a-loser. He follows me around like a puppy and won't let me be in a room by myself. I'm sure he's afraid I'll hurt myself but his presence makes me anxious. I'm not so sure that I have feelings for him but he kisses me anyway, causing even more violent shaking. His existence reminds me that I'm not ready for any kind of human contact. I know I wanted him at one time but now I'm terrified, knowing he holds the cards, completely vulnerable to him. Beaten down so many times that attempts towards comfort feel condescending. Any form of companionship at this point can only be a result of pity. No one actually wants to be around me. I'm crying right now. Just typing this. I can't keep my face from leaking. The idea of leaving the house to buy books or to have a cigarette seems equivalent to jumping into a fiery pit. I know I'm being dramatic. I wish this was for my own enjoyment. I don't want to cry. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to be alone but I can't be around anyone right now. Text messages send me into an unreasonable panic. I wish my demeanor would drive him out the door but here he sits, making light of my condition. Finding clever ways to touch my neck, laughing at the way I scream and flail. Rubbing my back so I won't smoke, permitting my need to pull my teeth out, one by one. Painting is comforting but it makes me sleepy. I wind up in bed for hours haunted by dreams of rape and murder. Wake up choking and coughing on my own screams, too scared to go out for that cigarette, too angry with myself to eat. Water tastes like anorexia. Jonesing for the pills that put me here. The phone is over there. I'm too tired to make that call. Too tired for class. Too tired for life. Too cold and scared to come out from under the blankets. I'm missing out on my life. Welcome to my hell. This is only the half of it. I'm too tired to finish. Please pray for me. Pray that this kills me tonight. |
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Just lay there and jerk off while I curl up into a ball. I don't even want it anymore. Sorry I don't have big tits. My other boyfriend is texting and I don't have a ride. Just keep wacking. I'll never finish with you, anyway. You're hot but you make me want to throw up. I just wish I was with him. At least he can get it up. At least he brushes his teeth. No more pills...sure. None for me either while you're at it. Let's end the drama with your ex by making me your ex as well. This always happens. It's time to go back to school. |
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My being is a product of free will but my brain is completely mechanistic. malleate mold manage modify manipulate None of this is me. I was not born with a purpose, a mission, an obligation. I am a piece of clay. Whatever the world wants me to be, that is who I become. Shaped to fit with you. So simple. Just don't make me choose. Don't force me to make a mature decision. Don't rush this. Let me have my fun. I love you but you will lose. This is so much easier with your pills. Society did this to me. My family did this to me. Pills did this to me. My responsibility is to let go because I cannot control my actions. I have a choice and that choice is to not choose. I choose mechanism. |
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Dear Mom, I don't know why I expect anything different every year. I figured this year would be less stressful for you since you don't have to impress your rival/sister, Carol. I did not think four days at your house would be absolute hell even though I am trying to quit smoking. I don't understand why you have to make it a point to stress yourself out over your children and your mother. These people are your family and they should not judge you. If they stress you out this badly, maybe it's time to stop hosting Christmas dinner. You're going out of your way, making everyone miserable so that everything can be perfect Christmas day. This is completely unnecessary because if you truly gave a shit about making me happy, you wouldn't be acting like a royal bitch right now. Please do not refer to Kenny, Gina and Braxton as my "relatives." Kenny is my brother. Referring to him as a relative adds the negative connotation that you created for that word. I do not need to impress Kenny or his wife or his infant son with my cleaning habits and you don't either. I am not white trash and if he thinks I am he can go to hell. Why? Because he's my fucking brother. Also, you don't need to scold me for my language or manners in front of "company." I am around Lucas' girlfriend on a regular basis and I happen to know that she belches louder than I. If you turn on any more of those fucking singing plastic Christmas figurines that you find so goddamn amusing, I swear I will slit my throat in front of the entire family and it will be the most merry fucking christmas of my entire life. Go to hell, mom. I'm never coming home for Christmas again. I'm tired of the family making excuses for why you're so fucking psychotic and why it's okay that you scream at me and criticize me for no goddamn reason. I'm done with your fucking cinnamon candles and your dry, assy cookies. Try having some real fucking food when I come home instead of slapping my hand and calling me fat when I try to eat something that you're saving for Christmas. We're going to be eating leftovers anyway so I don't see what the big damn deal is. Everything has to be perfect. Everything except you. |