And When They Catch You They Will Kill You

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You are viewing the most recent 25 entries.

20th March 2009

4:49pm: #31: The Hottest Girl in the Department
I'm loud and obnoxious but I'm a good kisser.
I'll fuck you until I forget that I miss her.
Then I'll go to sleep and feel my lips part
and I'll breathe so damn loud that I can't hear my heart.
I'll wake in the morning and look for my soul
then live through the day and return to my hole
where I'll write all these songs in the place that I sit
and drink all the beer cuz I don't give a shit
about anything other than leaving this town
because once that I'm gone I won't feel you around.
Feel you around.
Feel you around.

I'm loud and obnoxious and I've got a mind
to rip apart assholes who swore I was kind.
Cuz I'm not, I'm a mess and I know that it's known
Three years into college but I haven't grown.
I'm stuck in some limbo between who I was
and the person I'm trying to be just because
I can never go back to the twelfth grade again
when I broke a girl's heart and lost my best friend.
So I drink and I drink and I drink to forget
Yes I do have a problem but I don't know it yet.
Don't know it yet.
Don't know it yet.
Current Mood: depressed

(are you is?)

16th March 2009

11:34pm: #30: Getting back together is worse
I don't know why I thought all of my problems would MIRACULOUSLY disappear if I simply spent a night making out with Ally and then got back together with Amy shortly after. Stupid stupid stupid stupid.


The fact that your Facebook is now an official announcement for your attraction to men (a.k.a.: my mortal enemy) doesn't make anything much easier either.


So I've been wandering around the last few days in fits of horrible anger and I don't know what to do about it. I'm angry at her because I have no one else but myself to be angry at, and I'm more angry at myself than anyone else. It's just an onslaught of fury and there's nothing I want more than just to be alone in the Orphanage than here at home, where I Have to pretend everything is fine. At least at school people are used to seeing me live in squalor and filth and dysfunction. My life at home is an ongoing struggle to hide all of that from my mother so she doesn't worry. And the only reason I'm home is for her, because I know she wants to spend time with me. I don't know how to tell her I don't want to spend time with anyone.


I felt so sane because I was so isolated. I was all on my own and after a few days, I was doing all right. It was hard, but I was okay. I felt healthier than usual. And now I feel worse than usual. I don't know what to do and I'm horribly, terribly afraid.



Fuck this shit. I want different meds.
Current Mood: furious

(are you is?)

8th March 2009

4:17am: #28: Well then
I'm watching some bullshit Nickelodeon show from the 90's. It's a game show I used to play out with my dad, back when he gave a shit.


I really want to get back together with you. Even when I was sober tonight I was saying it. I just hope you can understand that I'm going to make out with girls and I'm going to act like I'm single, because I'm single, and I'm not going to tell you about it.


From now on, please don't tell me about it either.
Current Mood: MIKE?!?!

(are you is?)

4th March 2009

7:38pm: #27: Hold nothing back tonight
I'm so tired of being afraid, I'm refusing to let myself look back.


It's different than when Kim and I broke up. It feels cleaner, more concrete I guess. Maybe because I'm sure enough of myself now to know that I'm probably making the right decision. If it's not the right one, whatever is right will come up later. I just need to live a little of my life without her in order to figure out if I want to live the rest of it (or even part of it) with her. It's awful though, having to explain it to people. Most of our friends have only ever known us together. I know how to live by myself, but it's weird to do it without her.


And of course the same day I break up with her I get to find out that Jackass McAsshole is in a relationship. I can't help but feel like when Kim finds out about this, she's going to have a deep and very smug sense of satisfaction.



I can't go back this time. I can't take care of her, can't let myself take care of her. She's going to hurt for a while. So am I. There's nothing either one of us can do about that. But I'm regressing back to feeling like the ball is in her court. I'm more mature now to not make that obvious. God knows Kim took advantage. Amy would never do that.




Goddammit. I'm so sorry.
Current Mood: sad

(are you is?)

2nd March 2009

3:49pm: #26: Living Nightmare
I can't remember what it feels like
to know the difference between awake and asleep.
I never get my work done.
My eyes are open when I count sheep.

So I pray and I pray and I pray and I pray
and I hold tight to my faith because I don't know another way.
So I pray and I pray and I pray and I pray
and I hold tight to my breath because I know it'll stay.

I can trust that you'll come home soon.
and see the mess that I've made.
I can trust that I'll go back soon
to the grave where I've always laid.

I can trust that I'll never trust
a single person that I'll meet
because you taught me that I'm nothing
other than the dirt beneath their feet.

So I pray and I pray and I pray and I pray
and I hold tight to my faith because that's what you always say.
So I pray and I pray and I pray and I pray
and I hold tight to my breath because I know it'll stay.

I spend so much time thinking about dying
I'm scared I've forgotten how to live.
And I feel like everyone takes and takes
and I have nothing left to give.

I will never run again.
I will never run again.
I will never run again.
I will never run again.

I will always run, say when.
I will always run, say when.
I will always run, say when.
I will always run.

I spend so much time thinking about dying
I'm scared I've forgotten how to live.
And I feel like everyone takes and takes
and I have nothing left to give.
Current Mood: confused
Current Music: "String-a-long Song" - Jay Brannan

(are you is?)

18th February 2009

6:49pm: #25: This is why I can't stand you and your boyfriend sometimes
First and foremost, it's obviously because I'm jealous. You're having all the sex I'm not having, and you're spending time with someone who isn't me. But that's not the major issue.



The major issue was outlined the night I came home, in the worst fucking mood ever. You knew I was going through a really difficult time. You knew that, everyone knew that. You left your room and you followed me. That's what you did. You chose to leave having sex with him to take care of me, and that all at once stunned me and flattered me. I thought for a second that maybe your priorities hadn't changed. Maybe it was still chicks before dicks.

But halfway through, you went inside your room to comfort him. You left me. And then I get put in a shitty situation, like, am I supposed to tell you to stay with me while you leave him hanging? Do you understand that's a stupid fucking thing to expect from a person? You should just know that, there are things friends just know and you should have known that maybe, just maybe for once, you could spend time with me, when I was hurting, than having to worry about your boyfriend's erection.


But I didn't tell you to stay. Why would I ask you to change your priorities? If you had wanted to stay, you would have. I didn't want to be the reason you didn't have sex, and if I WAS the reason, I wanted you to be the one to say to him "Look, she's upset. We can finish up later." But you didn't do that. You went in there and you finished with him.


That's why it makes me angry when you complain. That's why I always tell you that you don't know how to say no. And that's why I got mad when you said "Are you even listening?" The thing is, I don't really give a shit if you know how to say no or not. You'll figure it out eventually. What matters to me, what happened to me, was that because you don't know how to say no, your priorities changed. Him having an orgasm was suddenly more important than what I was going through. You and I are friends. We're supposed to be best friends, isn't that what we tell everyone? Aren't professors starting to associate us with each other because we take all the same classes, because we live together, because of everything? After all the shit we've been through, I guess I always thought we had some super special bond. I thought I came first. I thought you put your friends first.



But you didn't that night, and that stays with me every day. That stays with me every time I come home and I wait in my room for the two of you to finish so I have someone to hang out with. That stays with me every time I hear the futon creak, every time you bend to his every wish and desire. That stays with me when you say you don't want to watch Degrassi because he's here. That stays with me.


You really hurt me that night, and maybe I should get over it. I mean, I never hashed it out with you, it's old news. But it doesn't change fact. You forgot chicks before dicks. You ditched a friend in pain to fuck a boy. I'm sorry, it doesn't fly.
Current Mood: angry

(are you is?)

3rd February 2009

7:49pm: #23: I never never never want to feel that awful again
I watched you dance somewhere between laughter and crying when we sang "Why can't I feel anything for anyone other than you?" I watched you slump up against the wall with your head back and your hair falling away from your eyes, and I watched your face twist into a pained sort of smile and I knew you were thinking about him.


It's intense female friendships that always make me question my relationship. The second I feel that moment of connection, I want to throw caution to the wind. It might also be because I'm starting to feel like the spark is gone. I haven't decided yet what it is, and it's too bad I left suckitupdyke because this would be a good question to ask. But it looks like I might have to field this one on my own.


On a brighter note, while I watched you fall against the wall I was completely sober. For the first time I realized I didn't have to drink every time everyone else does. I realized last night that I drink because it's fun. I'd rather have fun than go to class, I mean, who wouldn't? But I managed to do it. I was the rational sober person, and when I was irrational I was still sober enough to set things right. And everything was fine, and I went to bed in a good mood and woke up without a hangover. Since then, this week has been great. I'm prepared for my classes (except for Masculinities, but I'm halfway through the readings so I'm almost prepared). It's a good feeling that's deterred only by my fear that my time with Amy has passed, that it's time to move on from all of this and stop lying to myself. I don't want to fall prey to lesbian bed death, I don't want to be one of those stereotypical dykes who stays on because we're emotionally fused even though we never have sex anymore.


Of course, the reason we don't have sex as much could be a) because we're both on medication and b) because we've been together for so long. Eventually you just sort of calm down. It's just harder to realize that because I have to watch Michelle and John have sex three times a day whenever he's visiting. Emily said good for them, but that's just because she's single. I had an orgasm today but I don't remember when my last one was.


I just feel like I have other things to worry about than love right now. But I didn't feel that way before you came to me and we connected like that. So maybe it's just you're fault, and you're another girl who makes me question everything, another girl I'll drop down to good friend status after a little while. That's what always happens.


Though there may come a time where I'm not actually in love with her anymore, and then I'll have no one to blame but myself.
Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: "Map" - The Microphones

(are you is?)

29th January 2009

8:03pm: #22: The waiting game
I'm quite certain that I've done nothing but fail epically this entire week. Even the good things I've done, it's just not as huge as the bad. I don't know.


I'm very foggy right now. It's not the hangover, I don't think, but who knows. I should stop drinking. If I want to get better, I really need to.


I went on a rant and watched Emily cry in the stairwell. I don't think I've ever wanted to hug someone more in my life, because for the first time I finally feel like I can look at someone and know I don't have to say anything. She knows exactly how I feel. Not even Amy does. So that's comforting, at least, to know that while I was staying up all night drinking last semester, she was doing the exact same thing two floors below me. It's an unspoken connection. It doesn't make my depression go away, but I figure if she can get through it then maybe I have a shot at staying alive too.
Current Mood: sad

(are you is?)

26th January 2009

3:12am: #21: Organize this into something sober
So we went to the strip club, right? And I thought it'd be all fun and games and it was, I mean wicked props to Amanda for being able to walk around naked in front of close friends like it ain't no thing (and strangers too!), and she was the best there. I mean, holy shit. She makes the most I'd think.


And then there was the shirtless contest, right? And I figured if they're just judging by tits I might have a shot. The rest of my body wouldn't be held accountable and I wouldn't have to dance. But then we had to dance, and I thought it'd be fine. And by the time I heard they'd be playing three songs instead of just one, I got nervous but we'd already said we would do it. Besides, we're splitting the winnings and going to the bar later, right? I can dance for that long. I've been to middle school dances before.


Nah. Everyone made more money than me. Everyone could dance up on the strange middle aged men we didn't know. And I would have been fine with that, but I realized halfway through the first song that I don't know how to shake my hips. I can't fake it, nothing like that at all. I just can't shake my hips. I can't act conventionally sexy. I can't.


So I made four bucks. Everyone made more money than me. I feel unbearably unsexy. I feel ugly and awful. If I hear one more person talk about how great my personality is, I'm going to vomit. Personality is great, we shouldn't objectify women, etc etc etc. But I want to be objectified sometimes because then I know someone finds me physically attractive. I don't want to be that girl who's busted ass ugly but is "nice enough to date."


Fuck that.
Current Mood: intoxicated
Current Music: "Through the Sound of Crashing Pins" - Kind of Like Spitting

(are you is?)

18th January 2009

9:54pm: #20: When I say suicide, I really mean I failed
Sometimes breathing is easy. The past two days it's been more than I can offer, but I have still managed to push through. Maybe it's the drinking. Yesterday drinking had nothing to do with it. I don't know what it is then. It goes up and down sometimes. Sometimes suicide comes back.


I don't know. I could never do it. Marissa said it scared her to know I thought about it. It's one of those things, sort of like getting my teeth pulled. I know I HAVE to. But when it happens is something I'm continuously putting off because I don't want to deal with it. Like when I was applying for college. Or doing anything of merit.


But there's so much of me also that can appreciate little things, as opposed to just hating them. I loved watching Daria by myself today, just stoned and smoking cigarettes. I liked the idea of staying in to read and write. I want to read again. I want to love my life again. I spend a lot of time wishing I was younger, back when I was naive and happy. I don't know what made it change. I don't know what shifted inside of me. All of the sudden, there was all of this pressure coming at me from every single angle imaginable. I was so stuck. I'm still so stuck. It was so much sadness bubbling up and I had no idea what triggered it. It was usually just something stupid that I knew I would get over. But I couldn't put my finger on any specific reason. It just CAME, out of nowhere, out of everywhere. It didn't have a name or a face or anything I could identify it by. Like those stupid tubes full of water that you try to grab and they just slide through your hands and plop on the floor. I couldn't grab that feeling, I couldn't own it and control it. It had me. It still does.


And when I feel better, I know it's temporary. I've been feeling this way since I was turning nineteen. There are periods where it gets better. There are periods where it's the worst its ever been. And when things are good, they're never good enough for me to feel like it's over. Even when I felt good after I started taking the Lexapro, I knew I was just tricking myself. Like a placebo effect. It really didn't mean much, in the end. I knew it wouldn't last long.

It lasted maybe a month, give or take. I remember sitting on the roof and telling Dani I felt like I could do anything. I was so ready to violate all the boundaries I thought I had to adhere to. I was keeping secrets. I was becoming an introvert. There was this whole side of me I was hiding, and it felt amazing because it was my secret. Then I started telling people and they started telling people and my secret wasn't mine anymore. It was just information that everyone had a right to own. Intellectual property means nothing if there's no expensive copyright involved.




And it's been a cycle ever since. I trust my reality and I know, slowly but surely, I'm changing. I'm learning how to set boundaries. I'm learning that it's not always my fault, I don't always let people down. It's not a matter of not being good enough, everything is a learning experience. But there are still times when I get so stuck, feeling like my best times have passed me by. I'm afraid to live because I'm afraid to try, because if I try I might fail and then that's how everyone is going to see me. I'm just going to be a failure. So if I've lived through the peak of my life, that's how I want people to remember me. I don't want them to see me as a weak fuck up who couldn't do anything right. Who kept failing and failing, who was the subject of whispered conversation at parties. "How's Nikki doing?" "Keep your voice down. She's...you know. Alive." "Really? I thought she'd be dead by now." "It's such a shame too. She used to be so funny and smart."



Used to be, yeah. In high school, yeah. Always. Then I don't know what happened. I got scared. And everything changed, and I was afraid to change because I was afraid of what I was changing into.





Well. I feel like this was all so simple, and I don't know why I didn't figure it out earlier. I feel much better now.
Current Mood: okay
Current Music: "Ageless Beauty" - Stars

(are you is?)

8th January 2009

8:06pm: #19: Getting 2009 off to a good start
This doesn't consist much reflection, or even in-depth complaining. I just have this to say:


"He was a drunk guy."


That's about as good an excuse as "Oh, well you and Sean Corely were never really good friends, were you?"


I could go as far to say that you abandoned your feminist ideals to try and defend some dude you wanted to bone before we started dating, but I won't be that mean. I will instead say a) I'm still pissed, b) don't hold it against me for being jealous, and c) if we're still together next New Year's Eve, you'd better be hardcore fucking kissing my ass. Because that shit was fucked up.


You don't leave your girlfriend in your best friend's kitchen while you spend an hour and a half talking and looking at fucking pictures. And when you're confronted, you don't say "Oh I lost track of time" because NO ONE loses track of time for that long. You lose track of time for thirty minutes, tops. Not ninety. Not when the last thing your girlfriend heard you say was something about making out with him. Not when she was nice enough to give you permission, even though you know the thought of you making out with ANY dude makes her skin crawl and her blood boil. You don't do that.


And yes I have forgiven you, I'm just lonely and bored and sad and alone and potless and alcoholess and you got to go out last night to the fucking bar with all your cool gay friends and Mike, who you fucking made out with on New Year's Eve. I'm the one who initiated this stupid rule and I still haven't gotten to make out with anyone I ever had feelings for in the past. No one. Not a one.


And now I can't even masturbate. Thanks.
Current Mood: pissed off
Current Music: "Dashboard" - Modest Mouse

(1 emptied himself/herself in a room | are you is?)

30th December 2008

5:33am: #18: She did...what?
You told your family I was banging Michelle? How in the world does that make sense, even in YOUR head?



Oh, by the way--black guys? Well, no, guys in general. And coke, of all things? When did you become someone so fucking dumb? Didn't you used to be really smart and loyal and awesome? Maybe I have to consistently remind myself that you're no longer the girl I fell in love with when I was sixteen. Additionally, I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not insane. You get to be, though! Lucky you.



I went out with Julia today. It was a quick drive, but it was nice to just chill and catch up for a little bit. Incredibly, she a) acknowledged the fact that we dated and b) sincerely apologized SEVERAL TIMES for being a douche when we broke up. It was so fucking refreshing to know that even though Kim is digging herself into a very deep hole, Julia has grown a somewhat decent head to put on her shoulders. I mean, Julia will always be Julia I suppose, but she's done a substantial amount of growing up. It felt good to get an answer to the question that's been sitting, rotting, festering, whatevering, inside of me for four years. What's ironic is how much shit Kim and I used to say about her when we were dating, how immature she was and whatever. And now Julia's the one who's making the effort and even apologizing and chilling or whatever, and Kim is spreading vicious rumors and apparently blowing lines and sucking big dicks. Thumbs up to you baby girl, you really have grown up.



Really.
Current Mood: cynical
Current Music: The friggin wind.

(are you is?)

26th December 2008

10:12pm: #17: If this is growing up, well whatever
It aches with the fire of a thousand suns sometimes, and sometimes it's like peanuts in my mouth and it's great. You know.


I don't have much to say other than Christmas was all right and I miss Grandma and I miss Gizmo but you know, things happen. Julia and I are speaking again and it's weird, but so welcome at the same time. It's almost refreshing to reconnect with someone who knew you so well before you changed so drastically. I'm not too much like the person I was when we dated, but there are key elements still there.


I sort of wish I'd known last Christmas that it would be the last time everything would sort of seem normal. Last time Grandma would be alive, last time we'd spend the holiday in Connecticut. Last time we'd all pretend Aunt Penny and Uncle John were okay. But as the adults all go crazy, the kids still manage to connect with each other and we find ways to deal with the stress by making jokes and goofing off. I know Andrew feels it, and i know underneath all his pseudo-cool moves and his jokes he loves me the same way I love him. We're kindred spirits in a really weird way--I think we both feel underlying messages of pain and anger and whatever, and we can discuss them in a subtle way.

Lemme hit this shit and i'll get back to you.


There's so much of me that will always miss the year I was with Kim and the year following, when I was with anyone who would let me be with them. Now it doesn't matter too much I guess--the growing pains are getting smaller and smaller, or maybe I'm just able to ignore them a little bit better. Whatever it is, I think about Kim less, though not when I'm around places where I might run into her. I never do though. I guess that's just how it's meant to be.


But hey. Julia grew up. Take that one, kid.
Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: Nonpareil of Favor by Of Montreal

(are you is?)

13th November 2008

11:11pm: #15: Seeking San Francisco
So easy, maybe, to leave and never come back.


I would call the house phone while my mother and sister are out and leave a message telling them I'm going away and not to worry and that I'll call. I'll take all of my money out of my accounts and carry it with me in my car so no one can track me. I'll travel across the country and not answer my phone until I'm ready to. I'll settle in California for a spell, riding the wave of post-Prop 8 protests before I get bored and move on. While I'm there I'll live out of my car until I find some decent paying work doing something I enjoy, and then I'll start looking for a place to live. In the meanwhile I'll wash my hair in the sinks of chic hotel bathrooms, the ones that have couches in them and soft toilet paper. And I'll come back when I'm ready, if I'm ever ready.


After a little while I'll quit and move up across the border, probably after I've gotten enough money for a passport. I'll go across Canada and hang out in Toronto, freelancing for magazines I guess. I'll find a little apartment, maybe consider citizenship before I get bored again, maybe even homesick, and start to think about going back to school. That might be when I come home, or maybe I'll find a place to study in Canada. Part time, maybe, and I don't know what I would study or where. I'll make new friends, meet new lovers, reintroduce my soiled soul into the world. No one will know about my past--that I fucked up, that I left home with barely a word to anyone--and when I'm ready to face it, if I'm ever ready to face it, that's when I'll come home.




But I could never risk what I'll lose by running away, by changing anything, so I sit here all the time and watch myself turn into something else, watch myself popping pills that don't feel like they're working, watch myself turn and turn and turn and turn and twist and compromise and beg and lose my integrity. That's where I am, where friends feel like strangers, where sometimes the touch of my girlfriend's hand makes my skin crawl, where I lust after people I'm ashamed to lust after, people I can't even have, people I would never be interested in if there wasn't a glass wall between us. Those people.



I knew it would come back. Right now I'm not sure it ever left. Like me.
Current Mood: angry
Current Music: laughing on the other side

(are you is?)

12th October 2008

2:38pm: #13: I sweep the streets I used to roam
Kim,

I always knew after we broke up that you would remain a huge piece of my life for a long time, maybe even forever. I knew I would get over you eventually, because rationality said so. And I am over you, aren't I. And of course you're over me. But there is still so much more of me that remembers you, and I still dream about you coming back into my life sometimes. I sit here in New York and think about you in Boston. Right this very second, on October 12th, 2008, at exactly 2:40 in the afternoon, what are you doing? Are you sleeping? Are you working? Are you sad? Are you happy? Are you thinking about someone? I'd like to know that. I used to know everything you were doing when we were dating...and when we were friends, I still knew mostly everything.

I never liked feeling disconnected from you. It's been two years (this month, actually) that we haven't said a word to each other. I feel insane because from time to time I still do stupid things to try and pave over all the awkwardness that exists between us, an awkwardness that crosses state lines. I refuse to believe you truly want nothing to do with me. You stopped speaking to me for a reason--is it safe to say that reason doesn't exist anymore? You can't possibly still be in love with me. I just don't understand it. I never really did.

Soooo I friended you on facebook. This is potentially foolish (probably totally foolish) and it only serves to give you something to tell your friends. "Oh, my CRAZY EX tried to friend me! When will she get the fucking point?" So I figure, I mean, if you ignore it or reject it I'll accept that cuz I don't have any other option. I think I'm just trying to tell you that I forgive you and I hope you've forgiven me.

This is a letter I will never send to you, because it's nothing so pressing that you really need to know. You probably know already. You probably don't care. That's all right with me. We both have different lives to lead.

~ Nicole
Current Mood: sad
Current Music: "At My Most Beautiful" -- R.E.M.

(are you is?)

31st August 2008

5:31am: #10: "Why Am I So Afraid?"
There isn't a single soul in the world who will read this unless I leave it in a suicide note.


Speaking of which, today was the first day in a while where I really found it necessary to kill myself. While taking a shower, I thought about getting my hands on a gun and blowing my brains out. This was all after writing notes to everyone I care about and sticking them in a manilla envelope I would leave next to my body. I would scrawl in spray paint "CALL 911 BEFORE GOING INTO THE BATHROOM. I'M SO SORRY." Oddly enough, I went to the bar feeling miserable, had the shits, and then immediately afterwards felt fine. Like I had to poop it all out of my system.

There's a car alarm going off in the distance. I'm sitting here listening to an album I just had shipped in from Canada. Am I good enough? My mantras say I am, but how long will that last me? It's almost six in the morning. Will I be able to wake up early enough to get everything I need to get done finished? I can't quit now, not while I haven't lasted long enough to be behind. I have news articles I have to do, hard news that I've hated since I've taken Journalism 1 last semester. This isn't the life I want to lead, but I'm so sure it will look good on my resume when I go to anyone who's going to judge me and ask how much I know about music or feminism, no one who will ever care how much time I spent copyediting. Thanks New Paltz.


Really, thanks a lot.
Current Mood: why AM i so afraid?
Current Music: "13 Blues for Thirteen Moons" -- A Silver Mt. Zion

(are you is?)

25th August 2008

3:50am: #9: It's small but it's mine
Reading over my last entry has made me connect with the mindset I had right before I left New Paltz. I know it sounds ridiculous because that mindset was dominating over my life only about a week ago, but for some reason the second I set food in New Paltz that depression came over me again. I need to take deep breaths and remind myself that it's growing pains. Growing pains growing pains growing pains.


Beyond my desire to learn the bass I also want to take up graffiti art. I'm super excited for that because no one (NO ONE) knows about it. I feel like if I don't tell anyone, then I don't have anything to prove. My friends can just walk up to me while I'm creating and ask me what I'm doing. I can tell them then, and then everyone will be surprised and I won't have much explaining to do. Because, hey, I'm already doing it, right?



It's so super late and I'm drunk cuz I was drinking alone tonight. But it wasn't the bad sort of drinking alone, the kind I always told myself I would never do. It was creative. I got a lot of shit done, despite the fact that I've plowed my way through almost an entire pack of cigarettes and now my room smells like an ashtray. I'm going to finish off this bottle of water (as per Mr. Cooper's advice circa moving out day last semester) and go out onto the room with my iPod for a final smoke before I head off to bed. O joy o rapture at the fact that I don't have class until 3:00 tomorrow!





(and underneath your shirt
i can peel back your skin
and see that your bones and blood
are the same
as mine)
Current Mood: creative
Current Music: Well now it's that Shakira song (UNDERNEATH YOUR CLOTHES!!!)

(are you is?)

17th August 2008

8:01pm: #8: Bassists are faceless powerhouses
I'd really like to learn how to play bass so Jon, Brian, and I can form The Somethings. For some reason I've been feeling a weird compulsion to create anything that isn't in writing. Something that can just make people feel anything without them having to put effort into it or use their imaginations. Music does that to you. Besides, I don't know how to paint or draw anyway.


I've been feeling so much better. I don't know if it's the Lexapro or the fact that the summer is ending. It could probably be the fact that Diane said I might be suffering from "growing pains" (my diagnosis shares its name with a situation comedy--how appropriate), and finally I felt like I was connecting to something. Whenever I start to feel low, I realize it's that. It's growing pains. Giving it a name makes it so much easier to deal with. Or maybe dismiss. I can't tell.


This was the craziest summer I have ever lived. I can't say it was the worst ever, or maybe even bad. We all have to hit rock bottom before we can start getting better. I have so much hope for myself, and the only hitch I hit is my constant fear that I will never change. I will always be messy, lazy, and disorganized. But maybe I can force myself to learn some responsibility outside the realm of entitlement. "Well, I deserve this because I did whatever for you." "Okay, I guess I'll make said sacrifice because you did this for me."



Finally, I hope. Now, for song lyrics?
Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: "Hulahoop Wounds" -- At the Drive In

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7th August 2008

6:28pm: #7: Must remind yourself
- I am good
- I am worthy
- I can be loved
- I don't need to worry
- I am smart
- I am allowed to be imperfect
- I am allowed to overreact
- I am allowed to make mistakes
- I am allowed to choose my own path
- I don't need to listen to everyone else
- I am forgivable, but I don't always need forgiveness.
- I am not always wrong



A lot has happened. Dumped Amy. Got back together with Amy. Had an epic epiphany after watching High Fidelity for the first time, subsequently felt Grandma briefly. That was nice. Fought with Mom. Tried to get my point across, and now I'm left in my room, alone by my own wishes, trying to grasp the fact that we will be okay. She doesn't hate me. Sooner or later we'll be able to sit down and talk about this and maybe I won't get triggered and flip out. I need to work on that, need to work on the idea that she's never going to listen to me. Maybe she didn't when I was younger, but people change. I just need to understand her process and that it doesn't always have something to do with me. Like, it's not me being thirteen, getting into a fight with her, and having her not speak to me for three days or more. A week sometimes. That was painful.

Maybe one day I can talk to her about that.

In other news, Lexapro has already sapped me of my orgasm. What a fucking pain. Aside from that though, no real changes have been noticed. I was getting headaches really bad for the first day or so, but I don't know if there was any correlation. I was feeling better up until today, which was the first time I thought about killing myself in a while. That's an improvement!


You take what little you can get, I suppose.


Ain't it strange that I can dream
(You can say it's night or day,
snow or rain, it's all the same)
when there's nothing I have ever seen?

-- "Cleo" Built to Spill
Current Mood: drained
Current Music: Would be the aforementioned but I'm lazy

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27th July 2008

11:12pm: #6: I Could Climb You Like a Mountain
Laura says she spends a lot of her time focusing on calming down, being less anxious. Maybe I just don't try hard enough. Maybe if I just do that, I don't need medication, and maybe I'm just fooling myself into thinking that I need it because I think it will make everything go away without me having to work on it.


It has become more and more like something I can't do. Blah blah blah and on and on and on, but really like...maybe after the party. Maybe I really do need a break. For my own sake, for her's. Because my brain is eeking out of my ears.


It all came back, just like I was afraid it would. But talking to Laura, at least there was someone who could sort of understand. Someone I'm not sleeping with. Someone who has been on so many medications that she knows what worked, what didn't work, the side-effects, etc etc etc.
Current Mood: well then
Current Music: Imagine Me and You

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24th July 2008

9:44am: #5: Is This It?
I spent last night so sure that I needed to end it. I woke up this morning and couldn't remember why.


There's a possibility that I'm just looking for an excuse to get out while I still can, while I still have the opportunity to not look like an asshole. I talked to her about it, told her I'm scared for us and I don't know if I can keep doing it. She said she understood, she seemed fine. I asked her if she would be okay, and she smiled and said yes. And for some reason, I took comfort in that. It's so much easier to think about when I know that she'll be fine. I asked her if she would be mad at me and she took my hand and said no. She said she understood.


It does all turn into too much sometimes. It's not a matter of being with other people, although that's part of it I guess. It's trying to grow and not being sure if I can grow when I'm attached to someone else. She said she's going through the same thing--is she having the same doubts? She never seems like she doubts us.



I'm stuck somewhere between settling on the fact that this could be the rest of my life and giving up because we have to end at some point, don't we. Neither one really makes sense to me. I love her, I do, but the sex has gotten harder and harder and so have the obligations. I'll miss her so much, but I feel like this is a decision I will make eventually. I don't know for how long and I don't know when it will happen, but eventually I think I'm going to end up closing my eyes and kissing her goodbye.



I don't know. I hope it's easy. I hope she's okay.
Current Mood: sad

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13th July 2008

8:54am: #4: Co-Dependency
Beautiful beautiful beautiful days always make me feel like I'm dying on the inside, like the greatest part of my life has passed me by. I have absolutely no idea why I miss high school so much, but for some bizarre reason I want nothing more than to be able to go back to the beginning of junior year. It's wholly bizarre.


I am continuing to work through everything. I know I made a good decision for myself yesterday, despite the fact that I was depressed afterwards and miserable throughout the night. Who really wants to spend Saturday night doing biology homework while everyone else is getting trashed in the city? But I had to get it done, and I got most of it finished, and I saved all the money I don't have. Most of all, I didn't break when Amy started getting upset. I was strong. I didn't open my mouth and suggest that I could go, not once, despite the fact that every inch of my body was screaming to. I feel like if I was anyone else listening to someone say this to me I'd have wrinkled my nose by now, raised an eyebrow and asked "What the hell is wrong with you? Just say no, it isn't that hard."


For some reason though it really is.



Yesterday was the first day I started feeling legitimately down, like as down as I felt pre-Delaware. Right now I just feel...funky. So much of me is stuck in the point of time before dating Kim, how happy I was, and how alive I felt after we were done even though it seemed like I had fallen to pieces. What do I need? What's best for me?



I'm not going to say it because I always say it in every single entry I make. That's a last minute, point-of-death decision.



Today I will take deep breaths, like usual, and keep moving. I will work through my PMS, take care of myself and my inner child. Maybe I'll go out for breakfast with someone, then to Amy's for that stupid barbeque that will hopefully make her dad like me more. Before ANYTHING, however, I will finish this biology. Once I'm done with biology I'll feel free. Well, moreso, anyway.
Current Mood: hungry
Current Music: "Brick is Red" -- The Pixies

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9th July 2008

11:18pm: #3: Out-of-state of mind
Like I thought, Delaware was awesome. It also served as a decent mental vacation so I could get my bearings and feel moderately more prepared to come home and deal with what needs to be dealt with. Diane says I'm not prioritizing with myself in mind, but I think I'm doing the best I can for now. I say baby steps and sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who understands how important that is.


I feel a little refreshed, like now I can start identifying with the fact that I can control my future instead of just letting myself die. This is what healing feels like.


I'm tired and sort of distracted, but I haven't updated since Thursday and I know I won't be able to tomorrow so I thought I'd zing in and chronicle how I feel right now.


Not better. I'm okay, which isn't a bad thing. I don't know how long it will last, but I'm okay. I'm raw but I'm open to suggested directions on which way to go. Books I need to read, things I need to do, steps I have to take. Part of prioritizing myself is getting on board with the medication and starting to get my life in order--clean my room, catch up on biology. Biology should come first but every time I think about it my stomach hurts.


But I'm feeling okay, for now. A four day weekend of binge drinking and homos will do that, apparently.
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: "Daylight" -- Aesop Rock

(are you is?)

3rd July 2008

9:16am: #2: Live
I went out with Katie last night and managed to articulate my suicidal feelings better than I ever have before. Essentially, it's not that I want to die, it's just that, for whatever reason, suicide is slowly seeming like the only option I have left. It's an entirely bizarre feeling--I feel like I have absolutely no control over my life right now. I feel like a giant piece of myself is missing, like I'm sick and alone. It literally feels as though I'm in a bubble that everyone else is outside of, and I can't make anyone understand how I'm feeling. I feel more like I'm acting and less like I'm living. Everything I say is scripted, like "What can I do to fill this space in conversation without turning all the attention to myself and my illness?"


I've grown used to referring to it as an 'illness' as well, for some reason. Because it's more than just being sad. I need medication. I need help.


While I connect with myself to find joy in my life again, I need to wrestle with suicidal tendencies at all times. Part of me wants to break up with Amy so I'm free to harm myself without any guilt. I can slice my legs and thighs open freely and start to feel better (will I?) without having to worry about looking her in the eye and telling her I've done it. But that's foolish. Instead, I look for healthier things. I try to analyze why I feel so awful, though when I actually feel that way it's nearly impossible. Yesterday at work I felt like I couldn't move, that the minutes were just ticking by, that I was floating through my life. I was in so much pain. I went out after work and felt okay, got home and felt okay, and then woke up this morning and felt like shit.


I wish I could explain it. It's unlike anything else I've ever felt before. My short term memory hardly exists. When it's bad, it's really really really bad. I have no idea how to end it.


So. Three deep breaths, like I said. I'm reading again, journaling again. I'm going to Delaware tonight to keep up appearances, but I know when I get there I'll have a blast, just like last summer. I'm going to get a tattoo. I haven't told anyone yet, but I'm totally going to get a tattoo. I'm going to get LIVE tattooed down my leg, as a committment to life and to getting over this. I'll look at it thirty years from now and I'll remember who I was at this point in my life; my pain, my struggle, and my ultimate success.
Current Mood: listless

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1st July 2008

9:37pm: #1: Connecting
I can imagine that my summer might get easier once this biology class is over and done with, so that I can have an actual break as opposed to a pseudo one, one consisting of still fighting ulcers caused by grades.


Today was rough. For the first time in my life, the first time ever, suicide seems like a viable option. I have suddenly become like those people on the anti-depressant commercials: "Hopeless", "sad", "isolated", and so on. My realism keeps me away from hurling myself off a building, but every single day the thought enters my head on at least one occasion. And every time it's like making a pro and con list, and I'm stunned to realize that I'm slowly, almost unconsciously, accepting the idea that suicide might be my only option. I'm forgetting everything I used to say when I was younger--that it's an easy way out, that people who do it don't realize things will get better. I've been so busy struggling with all of this that I've completely lost the ability to hold onto the idea that I will get better. At this point I've been depressed for so long that I can't imagine myself without it. I think about who I was two years ago and it's like remembering an old friend I've lost touch with. It's like I don't even know how to feel that way anymore.


I take baby steps towards getting better, but the first step is to actually admit that I'm not well. I can't connect with that thought, probably because I've lived my life believing that nothing bad ever happens to me. I get sad, but over shallow things that I know will go away; break ups, lost friendships, poor grades, getting yelled at, making a bad decision. This is different because this has no cause...at least, not one that I can figure out. And as long as I don't know what's causing it, I don't know how to fix it. I can't name it. It's like something that floats around my head and nags at me. I've never had to work towards ending depression, its always just gone away whenever I got over my problem. But this is something that's coming from inside me, and I have to actually work to make it stop. It's like being in an AA program. I wake up every morning and go through the motions of being sad. It comes up out of nowhere and settles in on me. Sometimes I don't even realize it's there, and other times it's so intense that I feel like I can't move. I don't want to do anything. I want to go home from where I am and I want to lay in bed and sleep away the day. I never want to wake up, because waking up means having to feel sad all over again.



In an attempt to overcome this, I'm creating a program for myself. I will journal as often as possible--I'd like to shoot for a daily thing, but I know myself well enough to know that might not happen. It's funny how so many different journaling websites have so much emotional baggage for me; Deadjournal is too ninth grade, Livejournal is connected to all of my friends, and Greatestjournal is something I've only used in terms of Kim since we broke up. So Insanejournal will be my private area, the place where I begin to connect to my past and accept it as a part of who I am now, instead of a memory of a completely different person who just so happened to have the same genetics, name, and birthday that I have. I'll use this space to chronicle exactly how I feel as I feel it. I won't censor myself. And I'll examine what I say after I've written it as a way to start connecting to where this all comes from. I feel a little bit better thinking about that.


The other day, while driving, I realized that every time I've gotten depressed I've found something to pull myself out of it. There's a weird sort of excitement in the prospect of finding something to make me feel better. I'm afraid of the cost, though. What am I going to have to leave behind? The only thing I can think of is Amy, and do I want to lose her? Is that a good idea?



I have decided to take deep breaths, one day at a time, and put that idea off until I decide it's the right time, if I ever decide it's the right time. This summer is happening for a reason. My grandmother died this summer for a reason. I'm crashing for a reason, and I will come out of this a better, stronger, and more spiritual person.



I think the first step is connecting with myself. That's where I'm going to start.
Current Mood: blank

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