|Shopper spent the night earlier this week. While here we decided to hop on my computer and in a leap of faith, she showed me her secret blog. I think she knew that I would be back to read it all. Because I am the worst best friend alive? I don't know. I just couldn't help myself. I knew she had more then one entry compiled of thoughts just of me. I had to read what she really thought about me. While I knew which entries were about me, I waited to read thm until last, deliberatly reading the other posts. While I knew most of what she was feeling I did learn some things. But as I read through the posts about me, I became enraged. Why could she not just tell me how she really felt about me? I feel as if she has just been playing with me, acting as if she is my best friend. I am terribly upset that she expects me to tell her what I am feeling with no regard for what she may feel about it but she wont tell me. Her thoughts on things are "black and white." Everything is right or wrong whereas I tend to stay in the "gray zone" according to her. I think the night that all of these decisions were based on we discused things that she is adamently against. I am very no confrontational unless I strongly dislike or disagree so I was staying in the "gray zone" while I actually felt it was ok. To me, premarital sex is fine if you feel you are ready, I think people should live together before getting married, and I am fine with drinking and smoking. In another entry she basically belittled me because I am "making no effort to make Jesus Christ [my] personal savior." But the doozy, really, was when she was writing about the "fights" we had gotten into a couple weeks back. She placed all blame on me. Yes, what I said was mean but I wasn't saying it to her, I had said it to someone next to me and she was eaves dropping. It wasn't even about her. The second fight I "bailed on" her because I was sick. She said she still would have gone were it her. I had missed school the day before because i was sick. This being said I was not in the mood to deal with her crap for a while. Every now and then my past catches up to me and I need some alone time. When she asked what my problem was I told her and while writing about it, she stated it very ironically as if I were a child. Now, I know I have absolutly no right to be angry at her about this as I had no right to read her blog. Perhaps she was venting or perhaps this really is how she feels, I just think she needs to tell me to my face. I am supposed to be her best friend after all...|
I don't see how I can be so happy one minute and so unhappy the next. I know I have a chemical imbalance, there is no other explination. Growing up my parents and extended family were always there for me, I have had no major life-changing tragedy...I was just...unhappy. It has actually reached that god-awful poing where I can't remember ever actually being happy. I watch my nephews and nieces wistfully...trying to remember what it felt like to be 2...4...6...but I can't. 17 is much too old to remember anything from that point in my life. I have far too many recent memories crowding my mind, far too many upsetting memories. I don't mean upsetting in that other people were there and it was upsetting for everyone (though I do have a couple), I mean upsetting remembering the feel of my first intentional cut, how raw and sore it was for days after. I remember the "blood-lust" I felt...I feel. I remember watching myself glide the razor along my elbow, forearm, wrist and watching the blood well up. It looked so bright and red compared to my skin...I am quite pale, even for a red-head. I remember the first time I couldn't sleep because I had too much going on inside of my head, and I remember the first time I had to get my parents help to get out of bed; that was awful. I had curled into a ball so tight so I couldn't get out of bed to cut myself. I was stiff. They literally had to pull me out of bed and unfold me on the floor. I remember the first time my mom walked in on me while I was on my way to hoppin' in the shower. I was mortified that she had seen me naked, but more terrified that she had seen the scars, old, new, and fresh scabs. These memories...just family, just me. I remember my first kiss. It wasn't very romantic. I think it was more of an impulse for him...something to do with the current conversation. I turned so red...i was shaking all the way home, worrying if I had been a good kisser or if he was sitting in his room laughing at the memory. I remember being told that one of my peers had been killed in a car accident. Though I wasn't friends with him any longer I had known him since daycare...I went to his viewing. The image of him in a casket (he didn't look like himself...car accident, head trauma) will haunt me forever, probably. I saw Greek cry that night. Greek was my first kiss. I remember making out in my back seat, at the park, at the tennis courts...at the park again. He skipped practice and lost his 3rd quarter break to go to a movie with me on my birthday. He broke my heart and while I can never forget that...I remember the first time someone told me they loved me (romantically) and meant it. Greek. I love him. I don't love him. I want to be with him? I can't be with him...Shopper wouldn't approve. Should I care? But I do. Life for a 17 should be so easy. Really, to an adult, it probably seems easy. But they don't know the dark little secrets hiding around the corner, always near. I remember my first visit to the bad place. I was so alone. I remember my best friend's first visit to the bad place. Do you remember that Lego? I didn't think you were going to make it...I was so scared...I remember my first time to the bad place with someone to help me through...but it didn't matter, I was still worried about you...
Why do things seem to fall into place? I know they will just come tumbling down right after.
I see people holding hands all around me and all it does is make me feel lonely. Is this normal? I don't know. Would it even matter? Probably not. I dont know why, but I just want a boyfriend. I want someone who I can talk to, have fun with, but can kiss and cuddle with. I know that I am 17 and that "there are plenty of fish in the sea" but there is only one "fish" that i really want...and i blew it. Even if there was some way that I could fix everything that has happened, I don't think he would want to be with me. I don't know if I would want to be with him. Everything was sexual and while deep down it didn't feel like enough, it was fine. When emotions started getting involved, I had no idea what to do. After a year of pining over him and taking what I could get, he finally returned the romantic feelings. But was it too late? I think so...I couldn't forgive and forget this time...it had all been too much.
"So lonely inside, so busy out there."
I just never seem to know what I really want...to sort out my emotions. That has always been an issue but now...now with love in the mix? It has gotten to me. It has taken over my mind. Most people would just say I need to take a break from "fish" but I havn't really started anything to take a break from. There is only one boy that I really need to get over and as long as I am within a hundred miles of him I don't think I will be able to.
"I'm sinking slowly, so hurry hold me."
I would say that i need to figure out what is going on in my mind, in my heart, but I think I need a distraction. I have been spending far too much time dwelling on everything that i have made no time for what I want/need. I just want someone to hold me and to feel protected, not on edge. I want to have someone hit on me and be able to say "Sorry, i have a boyfriend." and be thinking "Who I am able to be myself around because he understands and accepts me." I am sick of watching my friends, contenet with their significant others and intentionally making me feel insignificant...
"...I got swept away."
--Music by Michelle Branch.
I was watching degrassi tonight. I don't know if anyone watches it religiously like I do, but it was the one entitled "Take on me." In other words, it was the episode in which Ellie, Jimmy, Sean, Hazel, and Toby have saturday detention. While on the roof, Sean and Ellie are lying next to each other. Sean said "You don't seem scared of me." "Nope," Ellie said, "You don't seem freaked by me." "Nope." With that, Ellie rolls her sleeve up revealing many healing self inflicted cuts. "Freaked yet?" she asked? Sean traced the scabs and slid his hand up her arm, lacing their fingers together.
I don't know if it is strange that I find this romantic...but I do.
I have so many scars on my arms, and uncountable more on my legs. I tend not to cut on my arms, unless I can't find room on my legs. Sometimes I cut my arms because I want to be caught. I want someone to notice, to know that something is wrong. Is it sick? I'm sure. But I want the help...I want to be normal, I don't want to be classified as a "Psycho cutter girl." I don't cut for attention. I don't understand people that do. It is so hard to explain why I do what I do. It was the only pain I could control. I was a release. It turned emotional pain/mental pain into physical pain. It took pain away. Finally, it backfired and i felt nothing inside. I cut to feel...even if it was physical pain. The scars I have now will never go away...i doubt I would want them to. They are as much a part of me as the memories...