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more so on here than ever, i want this place to be a place where i can capture moments in time. for so long this was a place to record memories, a journal of some sorts...but now, i want so badly to describe those times in my life when i was hurting so deeply that i could not stand the pain, the moments i thought i was going to die, the painful memories. why i want to preserve these with words that shall forever haunt me i have no clue. i just have this crazy desire to do it. so i have...and so i must. whether these moments span from a few minutes to an hour...they are memories nonetheless that need to be spoken about. that need a voice. maybe they just need to be expressed and freed from my soul so that, i...may continue to live...and be happy. thanksgiving night. after a stressful day with family, family and more family...i return to my room, the prison for my soul, yet, doubling as an escape. the only place in that house where i can close and lock the door...and hope to be left all alone. completely and solely, by myself. except for when my sister's sleeping there. but she spent the night over the cousin's. so all alone i was. it's been so long, the memory is a bit fuzzy now...but something was going on with my brother. there was loud yelling and screaming. doors were being slammed...and i was trying so hard to block out the noise. so hard to just make it through the night without hurting myself. looking down at my arms, the flashbacks returned. my dull and short nails would not do in a time like this, i would have to resort to a nail file or perhaps keys like i have in the past. the plan was forming in my head before i could seem to stop it. the devil had his hold on my once again...and....ah...i gasped. i came to the realization of what was about to happen, and i for one, was not going to go through with it, no matter how bad i seemed to want to. the anger seeming to build up in my trembling hands i knew i had to do something. this anger needed to get out, and not through hurting myself. i turned up my music. i tried to block out the condemning voices and noises of the past. and before i knew it, i was down on the ground. keeping my hands so busy and releasing the anger in a more healthy way. push ups. and when that wasn't enough, crunches were my next exercise. the way i could clench my fists tightly as i went up and down was a release i had yet to experience. and before i knew it, i was tired...my physical body was exhausted and my emotions were spent. i knew i had one this time. my hands were tired, my anger soon passed...but i might not be so lucky next time. the release of tears soon washed away the bad memories of that awful thanksgiving day. and i hope never to experience that again. yet i know those times shall come again...and hopefully i will be prepared...and not defeated….i made it through that one night….and i will continue to make it through many more… ahh...i feel so much better now after getting that moment in time down. hopefully i will continue with many more...until then... |
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another long lost memory caught in the depths of my mind... christmas break, i can't recall how many years ago. but in an attempt to not be so afraid and alone, i call morgan to see if she wants to hang out...but she's too busy for me. i can't blame her, i'm no fun, especially at this low point in my life. the pain fills my being once again. i can't do anything about it...there's nothing i could possibly do to stop the aching in my heart so i do only what i know i can do. something that will take over the emotional ache in my heart and fill my being with something real, something physically painful. something that i have a reason to complain about. i scratch the surface of my skin with my nails....relief does not come too quickly this time. the emotional pain is too much to bear. i look around the room for sharper objects, something that will hurt worse but won't make me bleed. something that is safe and unsafe at the same time. my keys. quickly i grab those and dig them into my tender flesh...and it has left it's mark while the skin slowly raises and turns red....in time, it'll fade...but now, in this very moment....the mark left on my skin for the world to see the depth of my pain. and still, not satisfied i race to the bathroom, lock the door and sink to the floor. i open one of the drawers and a nail file is in my hand and before i know what is happening, the incident with my nails and the keys is repeated. the tears are spilling down my cheeks and i'm caught wondering if this really does help. if it really does satisfy me for the moment...i can still feel the emotional hurt...does that mean i should continue with this? finding sharper and more painful objects until i go completely numb and fade into nothing….slip away forever… the moment soon comes. i open the shower curtain and grab the precious razor. my mind back flashes to all the stories i've read of the "cutters" out there. the ones who have no other choice. even my online friend, perfect110, from here and other places...even she cuts the skin to move on with life, to get over things. so what was stopping me from being just like them? what was really stopping them? all these friends i've made in this online world of mine…all of them struggle with it, so why can't i??? clenching my fists and holding tight to the relief that exists in my hands i continue to just cry and cry and i can't stop myself anymore. it's hard to breathe. i feel suffocated. and in that very moment i hold my left hand out...i stare at the raised marks on my skin from my previous explosion. i hold the green razor cautiously to my skin, feeling it's cold blades against my tender skin...imagining what it'd be like for it to cut deep into my skin. just playing around with the idea in my head while i'm crying out for relief and something to stop the hurt. minutes go by as i toy with the idea of just getting it over with...done with. and doing the very thing i promised myself i'd never doing. flirting with this evil, what had i succumbed myself to!?! and then the songs i listen to, their lyrics just flowing through my head right now... ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "the hurt she can’t handle overflows to a knife…she writes on her arm wants to give up her life" ~Superchick "my arms are sliced up..but I'm not embarrassed…it's the only way I get attention now from my parents" ~KJ-52 "I'm tired of feeling so numb...relief exists I find it when, I am cut" ~Plumb "She's the girl that sits in the back Dark shirt and her hair is black She cuts herself but ya can't see that Long sleeves they hide the facts" ~KJ-52 "something's gone wrong in my head...i wish i was dead…the cuts on my wrist bled..." ~Cross Movement "I let it go to breathe...I can't take it anymore...I refuse to wake up one more time, bleeding on the floor" ~Krystal Meyers "You come to me with your scars on your wrist...you tell me this will be the last night feeling like this" ~Skillet "Needing so much more than tomorrow...as she stares at the scars on her wrist" ~Plumb ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ all these people who have struggled deeply with the very temptation that i was about to surrender to...did i want to be just like them. yes. i believe i did. the thought seemed fitting for a person like me. the idea...very tempting. even what i did struggle with seems like not much compared to the depth of emotion and pain found in songs like this… but going back to that night, no i never did cut the skin...i never did make myself bleed. the razor just touched my skin...and felt really good sitting there, but i did not give into that. while i scratched at the surface many times and i thought about cutting several times after that, never was the temptation as great as it was that night. never again would i like to experience that. even though i've come to realize that what i was doing was still as great of a temptation and was still as wrong...i've learned and moved on since then. it's still something i think about, sometimes almost weekly...every time life seems too much. it has becoming a coping mechanism with me and a continued fight and struggle in my life. but it's been months..since may actually, since i've given into that temptation. and i hope to continue to remain strong...as strong as i did that night with the razor. if i were asked to think about one of the hardest moments in my life, that night would be one of them. it was the night i seriously couldn't decide whether or not i wanted to bleed...it was almost as if i was thinking about my own suicide. at least that's how it feels now and if i were to tell you any differently, i would feel like i'm betraying you with the words on this page... another memory freed from my mind...and i'll end with a more hopeful quote from one of my favorite songs... "you will bring beauty from my pain" ~superchick i wholeheartedly believe this now... |
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i'm sick of this place already...i want to go back to school now. i just came home wed. night...and i want to go back. i still have 3 weeks left here. 3 whole weeks... this blog will center on an incident between my father and i. something i think about often, well i used to. now the memory fades in and out in the back of my mind when people ask about him. this one incident i would term as "abusive" if i were allowed to say such a thing. other than that, i'm unsure really if i could say he was or not. because he wasn't really, he liked to discipline alot and he went about it the wrong way...but was i asking for all the times he struck me with the belt? what is abuse really? and how far does discipline go before you cross the line? these are thoughts i've been struggling with for awhile now. how to define my father. because as much as i say i hate him...as much as i say i will always hate him for all the years he hurt me...i wonder, was he really that bad? or was i just being the usual defiant teenager who never listened? so here i am saying now, that no matter what i've said on here before, he's not as bad as i've probably made him out to sound. that doesn't mean i don't still hold hard feelings to him, i do...it just means, i know there's alot of kids out there who’ve had it worse...and i wanted to say that before i painted this ugly and gruesome picture of him. because i've been told many a times before that i am dramatic...and i think that reflects in my writing. many a valentine's ago....waiting for my cousins to show up. my dad is sitting in the living room. reading a paper...i am in my room but we've been fighting for some time now. i can't remember exactly how old i was, though i can tell you i was still in braces at the time. so my dad is saying something to my brother about me. talking bad about me. telling my brother how bad of an example i am...going on and on about this stuff. the anger burns within me. how dare he? how dare he say this to my brother? i run out of my room and prepare to do something i will regret forevermore.... "shut-up" i yell straight in his face... and then it was over. i pushed him to the limit this time, screaming at him to shut-up and screaming right in his face. the second i get the words out he lifts his hand and smacks it across my cheek. it stings. it burns...and then i taste the blood. i try to open my mouth and it seems to be stuck. i run to the bathroom scared out of my mind as i taste the blood filling my mouth. i let it drip out of my mouth into the sink....red blood....dripping all over the white sink. i look in the mirror and see the inside of my cheek is stuck in my braces. as i open my mouth, the flesh tears and i spit out the small chunks of skin into the sink. i am still in shock when my dad walks in behind me. looking like he's somewhat in shock himself he says nothing. he doesn't help either. he just stands there....watching me. i want to slam the door in his face. i want him to leave. i want to disappear. but, i’m bleeding, i’m injured…. i am too tired to retaliate…and sadly, i’ve realized he has won. And I don’t know what hurts worse, the physical pain of his hand across my cheek…or the fact that i’ve lost the fight with him this time. as the hatred is still bubbling inside of me...he says something like. "well i guess you got what you deserved" and i try as hard as i can to keep the tears from spilling down my cheeks as well. i would hate for him to see me weak, to see me cry. i try to remain tough and unchanged...but it's hard as i feel the pain...it stings. if i didn't have braces at the time, a slap across the cheek wouldn't have done much to hurt me...but because the braces cut the inside of my cheek and tore off skin...i was left in pain for the rest of the day...and i didn't think much about the fact that i could have been left with a bruise... but then monday morning, getting ready for school i look in the mirror once again...and there it is, a big bruise on my cheek...a stain of another broken holiday for the whole world to see...how would i explain it to the kids at school? luckily i didn't have to. see the week before i walked the school hallways sporting a huge bruise on my arm, this one from a fight my brother and i got into. so people who asked about my bruise asked in a way like this..."did you and your brother get in a fight again" and it was easier to say yes then to admit the truth of this new bruise on my face….it was easier to agree to their assumptions than to say, “no, my dad gave me this shiner”. the whole week i walked around with that embarrassing bruise on the side of my face. i don't think i told anyone at the time the truth of that. was i ashamed? yes, more than ever. because if i told them my dad hit me, then what? and i had keep questioning whether his action was justified or not....now i think absolutely not, no matter how many ugly words i yelled at him...but at the time, i was unsure. and i didn't want to tell people i screamed in my dad's face...because, him giving me a bruise was somewhat out of the ordinary...but me yelling at him....that was something that happened almost daily….and sometimes…even more than that. but many people didn't know that. i kept most of my home life a secret until my later high school years. i was too embarrassed...to ashamed. i thought people, like at church, would try to fix me...and i thought it was none of their business...because i hated my dad and i always would. and even now, i still harbor that hatred in my heart. and i wonder what it'll take to let it go. maybe several more writings...like this one...or maybe just time…and change. but i don't wanna write about things like this for awhile. this was hard enough. and now it's time to put that one valentine's day to rest. not for long though, because next february, i will be reminded of the memory once again....and the emotional pain will hurt...like it has all the past years...but here's another memory..... ....s.e.t....f.r.e.e..... |
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actually....i think i've been thinking too much lately...about writing among other things...but let's focus on writing. and how i haven't been doing enough of it. it's hard to see the effects at first, but now...i am simply going crazy. to say the least. i'm so caught up in capturing a "moment" or a "memory" that i have lost what writing did for me at first. released my thoughts. released my emotions. so here is me...doing just that. now, what? it's so hard to start, but once i start, i know it'll be hard to stop. things are just crazy right now and i am driving myself crazy. i think that it's because lately i've been saying no to hanging out with people and giving excuses. i'm glad i only have one more week here, otherwise i'm sure my current living would really be damaging to the progress i've already started. i have just realized today what is really going on and i'm going to try hard and stop it this week. i am babysitting some, that will help. but i think i'm going to try calling morgan or adrian back and ask them if they wanna get together. more so with morgan since i will see adrian again soon. but i really felt bad the other night after saying no to a movie with them...it was just weird for me first of all to receive that kind of phone call. i guess it's still all kind of new to me that morgan would want to hang out with me again. i has been so long...but we've been through so much. baby seth went to the hospital last night, i found out today during church..and i didn't call michelle today to see how he was doing. i feel really bad about that, like a horrible friend. instead i thought, i really don't feel like talking to anybody right now...even though i wanted to know if he was ok...so instead i took a four hr nap on the couch...and still didn't call her. now it's much too late. i really hope i remember tomorrow...after i pull my lazy self out of ed after noon or something. i went to the movies with michelle and her boys friday and seth has smiled at me before..but this was the first time he continually smiled at me really big and was laughing...he also was sticking his tongue out at me. it was soo cute...and i haven't been able to get that image of of my mind, me looking down on him...his mouth wide open...in a beautiful sort of grin... another thing i can't stop thinking about is working with youth. it seems crazy because our small group leaders at church would try to teach us things for when we would one da lead our own group..and i always said i would never do that. out loud i made that clear. kids we're always something i'd be involved with, never the teenagers. so not only am i in conflict with myself, whether i really believe i can do this, whether or not i think god wants me to do this..but i also have to swallow my pride and admit to ppl that yes, i've been thinking about this. and then, i have to hear what they say. and i kinda wish i hadn't entertained the idea of me doing this in the first place, because the i could just get it out of my head and it'd leave me alone..but that is not the case. and it's driving me crazy...and i know what i need to do, i just won't... i guess what's bugging me the most is all this time i have to think and be by myself...it's just so unusual...and it's been happening for too long now...and i haven't turned to writing yet, the thing that has kept me for the most part, sane....for many years now it seems. maybe one day i can learn to turn to god in the same way. one might think that my writing is sort of my way of talking to "him" to make up for a way i can't quite express yet...but i'm still learning and growing...and struggling... as short as this seems to me right now...it's good for now...because weariness have overwhelmed me now...and hopefully i can write some more in here soon...hopefully it won't be so long...this is probably a good way to wrap up the end of the year 2007 as well...writing about, well writing... |