impacted

I should be happy.
Really.
But true to my most recent tradition:
I can’t be happy.
Something always happens.
My life is starting to feel like an episode of Rosalinda.
I’ll give you an overview of how things have been lately so you can understand why I am moping like a whiny child. I know it’s been a while since my last post but I’ll do my best to catch you up without going into any unnecessary rants.
Mel and I have been doing pretty good. We’ve been texting and hanging out. But she had to leave on Thursday (I think) to go to the Jazz Festival in Reno, Nevada. I have been hanging out with Sarah a ton lately. I went to her house on Wed before church, we went to the media in art room for lunch on Thursday, I hung out with her after school before going to the school play “Witness for the Prosecution” and then ended up spending the night at her house [along with Nikki and Alyssa] and then stayed over until noon on Saturday. Yeah, we hang out too much because I’m starting to talk like her more and more. After my dad picked me up from her house on Saturday, he took me to my grandparent’s house where I fell asleep for a few hours until it was time to go to a family party for some little kid named Carlos. I’m not exactly sure how I’m related to them but all that mattered was that family parties always result in one excellent thing, FOOD! Apparently I have a relative that goes to my high school that I had never met before so my grandma was adamant that she introduce us and make us become buddies so as soon as we get to the party my grandma finds Tommy and brings him over to my sister and I and introduces us. After saying hello, there was an awkward silence from all parties involved until it was time to grab some delicious food. I was very disappointed ion my family because I was under the belief that with so many Mexicans in one place, there was bound to be a taco lady and some bomb Mexican food but they had white people food- hamburgers and hotdogs. Really? We have to put up with white people all the time and eat their gross food; we should be able to have our own delicious cultural meals when we have family parties. But I ate my hamburger with as much joy as I could muster. After talking to various family members whose names I can never remember (but they always remember mine…) my grandpa wanted to leave so Amelia and I left with him. I hung out at my grandparent’s house for a while until my dad picked me up and I went home. I’m not sure what I did but I pulled various muscles all over my body and they were now killing me, so I downed some Advil and chilled on the couch for a while. I eventually talked my dad into watching Twilight because he had never seen it before. Everyone got situated on the couch and we started watching it, but not before Legally Blonde had ended on FX. My breath still gets taken away when you see Edward walk into the cafeteria for the first time. I was practically falling asleep from exhaustion so as soon as the movie ended, I went to my room and was out like a light. So that was last night… right? Okay so this morning I had to get up and do the whole morning routine (eat, get dressed, make-up, hair, etc.) and got in the car to go to school. Most of the way to school, my dad’s cell rang so I answered it for him since he was driving. It was my grandma. Her brother died last night. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Another death? So soon? Why? At school all I could think about was how close we all are to death and it really scared me. Today was fairly hazy because I was off in my own thoughts for most of it. Mel gave me a gift from her trip to Reno- a really pretty necklace that has a guitar on it. I came home and played around on my guitar, did some homework, and watched TV. I have things to do but today is just not a day to be doing things. I need to wallow in my own self insignificance and mortality for a few days before I can move on. This has incited a round of depression that I won’t soon forget. I need to go take some Advil…



Bye.

The most important human endeavor is the striving for morality in our actions. Our inner balance and even our very existence depend on it. Only morality in our actions can give beauty and dignity to life.

Albert Einstein

Thngs will change for me

Yet again, Panic at the Disco says the words that I can never seem to find. I’m not going to go into detail about why that is relevant but I will tell you about this very… different… day. First period- slept. Second- took tests. Third- played pranks on a dumb kid. Fourth- drew doodles. Fifth- actually learned… sixth- ditched TA and went to hang out with my hommies in the drumline before they leave for finals in Dayton, Ohio tomorrow. So I was chillin' with my people, just talking about weird random things, (mostly about why Ryan B. looks like a squirrel if you squint your eyes and turn your head slightly to the left…) when my sister calls me over to her and hands me this red envelope.

“whats this?”

“something for you.”

“is it from you?”

“no.”

“who is it from?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“uh… okay” I said before stuffing it into my backpack.

So my mind was far away thinking about a billion other things when suddenly I remembered about the envelope. So I decided to talk to my friend and ask him if he knew about the envelopes origin. I told him about the situation, while TBIL was at his locker, and I kept an eye on TBIL to see if he was listening to my conversation and I saw him remove a green folder from his locker and put it in his backpack, shuffle around in his backpack, and put the green folder back into the locker. Suspicious much? Yes. After TBIL left, I focused more on what my friend was saying and realized that he seemed to know who it was from. After failed attempts to pull the name from him, he left when Sarah came to my locker. I immediately told her and she seemed just as clueless as I was. I opened the envelope and saw inside were two CD’s and two pieces of paper. My current theory was that it was my ex boyfriend because he had been acting suspicious lately. I tried to forget about it for a while as I chatted with Sarah and her friend about going to her friend’s church tomorrow night. I finally parted from them and walked alone in silence down the two blocks to the car. These thoughts that were ranging from bad to extreme were running through my head, what if it was my ex-boyfriend telling me that he hated me, what if it was one of my best friends blasting me, what if it was a creeper that had video taped me changing and wanted to send the tape to me. I was on the verge of breaking down from stress before I even reached the car. Upon getting into the back seat of the car, I begin badgering my sister and telling her that she needs to tell me who gave it to her, or I might just have a mental breakdown right then and there. She finally blurted out who it was from. I sat motionless in the backseat. Was I hearing correctly? Did she really just say that it was her? Why did she want to talk to me? Had I some how made things even worse? Had I fucked up everything more then before? I was already mentally preparing myself for the worst. The entire drive home, I was dead silent. As soon as we parked in the driveway, I slowy got out of the car, walked to the computer room and put the DVD in the disk drive. I sat down and watched what lay in store for me.

It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. She wrote a song called dear friend and she put it to a slideshow of all the pictures that we have taken over the years. I was crying, and for the first time in a very very long time, they weren’t tears of sorrow. When the song and slideshow ended, I became silent again. What am I supposed to do now? Does she even want me to do anything? All these questions are flying around my head and I have no clue what to do. I have homework and I’m going out to dinner with some family friends tonight, so I can’t stay here and collect my thoughts. Maybe I’ll take my notebook with me and just write what comes to my head.

I guess I’ll keep you updated on what unravels. Oh and a quick question to the follower guy (I only have one, so you know who you are…) do I know you? I mean, its totally cool if I don’t know you but I just want to make sure that I’m not telling my personal stuff to someone who actually knows who these people are that I’m talking about.

But anyways... places to go, people to see, things to think, and calming breaths to breathe.

This is the happy place that I escape to in my mind. You really should come visit when ever you have the time. There isn't candy, rainbows, or any of that stuff. It's almost like the real world, just minus the hate and... everybody else. In my happy place, I’m usually by myself, just sitting under the many trees. You're welcome to come and take a seat in the shade next to me. Bring your favorite book because nothing beats the comfortable silence that fills my happy place when I read a wonderful book. When I need to collect my thoughts, I take a notebook with me to the happy place and that comfortable silence is filled with the quaint sound of pen scratching ink onto paper. Your welcome to gave a notebook and share some of your writings with me under the trees that shade me from so much more then the sun. Sometimes when I need to calm down, I take nothing with me to the quiet place, and the comfortable silence is once again in place and I stare out into the jungle and just think about how much greater all that creation is then I. You are welcome to come and relax with me under these great protectors that have an age beyond that of numbers. Next time I take a trip to my happy place, I’ll be sitting and hoping that I will see you coming out of the flora and perch next to me. We don't need to talk. We don't need to fill the silence because ultimately- it’s the lack of any sound that draws me to it. We don't need to set a time for when we arrive or when we leave because in the happy place, time is useless. No wants exist in the happy place beyond the want to never leave. No needs exist in the happy place because what more could be of want in a place of pure perfection? So next time you feel the need to escape to a place where you can find solace, peace, love, and creativity, come visit me in the happy place. Even if I’m not there, my happy place is always open to you as a sanctuary from life. My happy place does change, but only because I have changed. I love my happy place because it is me. It is the me I was. It is the me I am. It is the me I will be. It is the me I hope to be. I wish I could live in the happy place...

Oh god. I should have left twenty mins ago but i just started writing a poem and couldn't stop... ugh.

okay, I'm serious this time.

bye.

echo

I was laughing when I discovered that my now empty computer room has an echo now, but then I stopped. The symbolism is killing me… This house is becoming so reflective of me. It was so full and now it’s empty and the old is being throw away and new things are being bought, and we’re starting over in a new place with new walls, with new doors, with new everything. I was really miserable, then I was in denial, then I was angry, and now… now I’m numb to the whole moving thing. Someone very close to me gave me the best advice I’ve received all year and that was, “the great memories you had at your house, well, it wasn’t the house that made the memories, it was the people and as long as you still have the memories then you still have the home in your heart.” Maybe whoever came up with that ‘home is where the heart is’ line wasn’t as cheesy as I had previously thought. Now that I’m aware of how soon we’re moving, I’ve realized something very important- I haven’t packed anything, aside from the posters on the wall and some of my various journals and notebooks. The procrastinator in me is at full power. On Friday night around midnight and I’m sure even until the moving trucks come, I’m still going to be throwing all my shit into boxes. A big reason I hate moving- I always forget what boxes have what stuff in them, so knowing how much of a bitch life really is, as soon as all my boxes are taped up and in the truck, I’m going to need something and I will have absolutely no idea where it is. That is going to suck.

Oh I almost forgot- I hope everyone had an enjoyable Easter. I had a good one. I somehow stretched out getting ready for like five hours and then I went to church. My dad thought it would be funny to go to the mass that was entirely en espanol… yeah… I was so confused. I may be in Spanish 4 but I seriously know around maybe 50 to like 60 words and that really isn’t enough to have a very in depth conversation with anyone. I’m actually pretty good at understanding people but responding is where I get a little messed up.

Today was the the first day of school after returning from spring break, so naturally everyone was really out of it and only wanted to go back home and have a longer break. I was pretty lucky since I was able to avoid receiving any spring break homework in any of my classes but since I was so lucky during break, I already received a ton of homework for tonight. Oh what I would do to just have it be summer break already…

My spring break was… boring. I moped around a lot and allowed myself to wallow in my own self pity for a few days, and on Friday I went with my cousin and my grandpa and saw the Hannah Montana movie which I personally thought was pretty good. The main guy looks a lot cuter in the movie then he does in the poster I have of him… On Saturday, I went with Sarah and Angie (and my parents L ) to see my sister perform her drumline show at the SCPA final in Temecula. It was a pretty long car ride but me and Sarah were talking or listening to music the whole time there and me and Angie were writing notes back and forth the entire way back. On Sunday, I got up, took five hours to get ready, went to mass en espanol, and then went to my Grandparents house for an Easter party. We had steak, but honestly meat makes me feel sick. (I’ll leave me meat consumption rant for another time) Then we had an egg hunt. I’ve never claimed to be a good egg hunter, so needless to say- I lost… even to my sixth grade cousin… I had this sudden wave of depression come on closer to the end of the party so I retreated to my bedroom (for clarification: yes, I have two bedrooms, one at my house and one at my grandparents house) and cried on my bed for a while until they finally noticed my absence from their happy little group and sent my cousin to find me. I lied to her about having a headache so that she wouldn’t start to question why I was crying. They left me alone for a while but eventually my grandma came and gave me another talk about trying to be happy. I love my grandma to death, I really do, but they just don’t understand that when I’m in my depression moods, I am incapable of just pulling myself out of them, because it’s an involuntary thing. I don’t control the moods, they control me. Upon returning home, I laid on my bed, still wearing my dress and leggings and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about how things could be worse. My parents came into my room to ask me to start packing but they suddenly become all… weird and fake… with these really creepy smiles because I guess they figured what type of mood I was in. I hate when they do that because it just makes me feel like I’m a mental case. Yes, I acknowledge that I have mental issues but they need to really learn how to deal with me… oh god. I’m making myself out to sound like I’m talking about some sort of weird skin disease or something that people just need to “deal with.”

I was just not in the mood for dealing with people at school today so I was extra quiet in all my classes today. I can list the only people I spoke to today: Nikki, Heidi, Sarah, Angie, and Amelia. Today was more of a written words day. Sometimes I just can not put my thoughts into actual words that come out of my mouth because I doubt their importance but whenever I take the time to write things out, their importance always seems to rise up immensely. I’ve really been itching to write a short story or a new poem lately but every time I get a chance, something comes up.

I’ve decided that there are something’s that I do not want to go into detail about but I want to write them down, so I’m going to keep it simple and bullet point the main ideas:

- I have strong feelings for my ex-boyfriend (again…)

- My self-hate has been flaring up again lately

- I’m so confused by how TBIL has been acting

- It still hurts me when I see him and his little arm candy (but it hurts less then before…)

- I miss my cyber stalker… (I can’t help that I liked the attention…)

- I’ve come up with a new way to lose weight (I’m only allowing myself to eat breakfast and lunch. No dinner or snacks.)

Okay, I think that wraps up what has been on my mind lately. Thanks for sticking around and actually reading all my ramblings…

Pete Wentz is my hero.

He doesn't know me but

he understands me better

then my own family ever

has or ever will...

I need to go and finish my homework...

p.s.

My total favorite band of the month!!

My fave song is 'Black Cat'

sorry... I'm like picture obsessed today...

Irrationality

I’ve decided to devote an entire post to my stupid irrational fears from past to present. Everyone has them so don’t you dare laugh at me.

Okay…

1. I’m convinced that all spiders want to kill me and will stop at nothing to bite me…

2. I will avoid being near a horse because I saw this show a long time ago where a horse kicked a sheep’s head off and now I’m scared a horse is going to kick my head off…

3. I try ridiculously hard not to go into the bathroom at night because its just eerie…

4. I’m tense the entire time I’m in home depot because I’m constantly afraid that the big heavy stuff on the very top of the aisles is going to topple over & fall on me…

5. anytime I enter a room at night that has the lights off, I always assume that there is a killer in there who is going to kill me before I can even turn on the lights…

6. When I’m at home and I hear a plane flying overhead, I get really scared because I think that the plane is going to crash into my house…

7. I always check the toilet bowl before I sit down because I’m paranoid that an alligator is going to climb up the pipes and into my toilet and bite my butt…

8. I’m super careful when I use the blow-dryer because I’m scared that my hair is going to get caught & catch fire & I’ll end up looking like a burn victim/cancer survivor…

9. I always act more pro-government then I really am when I’m on the phone because I’m scared that the government is monitoring my conversations…

10. I always check under my covers before I go to bed because I always think that I’m going to one day find a serial killer under the sheets just waiting to kill me…

Now that you’ve gotten a good look at my insanity, I think I’m going to head off to bed.

G’night.

p.s.

You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.

- Eleanor Roosevelt

I deserved a break and finally, I got one. I went to my aunt and uncles house and did things that normal teenage girls should be doing- gossiping, watching TMZ, talking about boys, going shopping, and getting Jamba Juice. For the first time in forever, I felt like me. I was laughing, I was cracking jokes, I was happy. Of course there were times (mostly during lunch) when we started talking about the more painful subjects but my aunt never pressured me into talking, she left it all open for me. I said what I wanted to, and I admit that I edited my words with her but I didn’t want to hurt her with what I’m really feeling and thinking. Its just so calming to be around my aunt and talk because she has six very important advantages that others lack:

1) She understands because she has had a little bit of depression.

2) She has no ulterior motive to listening to me spill my guts.

3) She has the best anecdotes that always make me feel better.

4) She never judges me

5) She never gets upset with me when i slip up

6) She never throws my mistakes back in my face

So it was nice spending the day with her and getting to just be me without having to really worry about saying certain things or doing certain things. We have very similar tastes and she has always been almost a mother figure for me. I ended up taking her to see my new apartment. I told her straight out what I thought about it without feeling the guilt I would have had if I told me dad. I cried so many times today but she always was patient and knew when to stay quiet and when to say something to cheer me up. She has the best advice that I always use.

I’ve been having the hardest time lately because of my depression, a.d.d., weak immune system (so near-constant colds), and moving so this mini vacation was something I needed and I’m truly grateful I got it.

I think I really need to add something about what happened last night… I was having an okay day but last night when I was talking to some people over aim and Facebook chat, I got some horrible news that I wish I could share but I cant, and I felt like I was at the beach and I was too far out and this gigantic wave took over me, except I wasn’t at the beach. I was at home and that wave was a new surge of depression. I did a very unacceptable action, again, and I chugged cold medicine and collapsed onto my bed. Part of me wants to say I regret it, but I don’t. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I want to say that I won’t ever do it again, but I know I will. I want to say that I was miserable, but I wasn’t- it was the first time in two months that I got an entire night of sleep (the whole night of sleep that I got two months ago was also from cold medicine consumption…). It’s the best kind of sleep- the dreamless kind. I’m getting so fucking sick of those horrible dreams, but the worst thing is that the dreams themselves aren’t horrible at all. The dreams are perfect, my life is perfect, I have all my friends, I have all my family, and I’m completely happy and then I have to wake up and remember that it was just a dream and that everything is not perfect but is infact a gigantic mess.

I think my current “escapes” are becoming less effective… Listening to music no longer helps my soul, taking a long shower no longer relaxes my muscles, playing my guitar no longer distracts my brain completely leaving a bit of it to wander into the dark and unwanted territory of bad thoughts and memories. It’s kind of like gateway drugs, isn’t it? These “escapes” are like the drugs that I have become accustomed to so they no longer have their full affect so need a stronger ‘drug.’ What about baking? I heard that helps. No… I’m too lazy for that. Real drugs? No… I’m too poor for that. A boyfriend? Oh I would feel so horrible for any boy that got mixed into my issues right now. I’m running out of ideas. Maybe I could actually focus on school? Yeah right! I guess for now I’ll just stick to moping and crying when I’m alone and keep practicing that fake smile, because obviously, it’s becoming more and more convincing. I’m going to go and figure out how much a funeral costs as another way to keep myself from going over the edge, but honestly, suicide is becoming a more appealing escape everyday.

-bye

non existent

My energy.

It’s non existent.

I sleep during most classes.

I sleep in the car.

I sleep at home.

I’m still tired.

Maybe it’s stress.

Maybe it’s lack of exercise.

Maybe it’s from my current DGAF outlook on life.

Anyway you look at it,

It comes down to this:

My outside read assignment is due tomorrow

I have no idea what I’m doing

I pretty plagiarized a bunch

What wasn’t plagiarized-

For lack of a better term

…sucks ass…

So now I have two options.

Give up and go to bed and get an F

Or

Sit here for hours and still have nothing

Resulting anyways in an F.

I wish I was brave enough to ask

To ask that kid

Ask him if he will clarify

Because I’m utterly confused

But sadly, he is way to cool

I feel way to weird being such a loser

And talking to such a cool kid

I’m sure he’s nice

His character isn’t in question

I’m just intimidated

That F is looking better and better

A.D.D. doesn’t help.

I can’t concentrate on this.

I can’t concentrate on anything.

Ever.

Well, I feel a wave of depression

It’s coming my way.

Well I’m glad I got a few hours away.

-bye

I’ll figure this out someday

Maybe I’ll just stay right here for the rest of my days. What is the point in getting up if it means facing the failures that follow me like a dark raincloud bent on making me unhappy? Oh look, it’s the kid down the street who I used to play with when I was younger. When I was happier. He looks different. Maybe it’s the muscles he’s gotten, or a perhaps I’m just realizing how much of a growth spurt he has had. We used to be inseparable. Never parting until our mother forcibly took us back home for such nonsense as baths and bed time. Now when I see him, about once every few months, we exchange a quick head nod before going on with our own lives. I remember his carefree attitude, does he remember mine? Do I remember mine? Now I’m staring at the old photographs in my hands. Who is that smiling child? It can’t be me, can it? I give up and throw the pictures across the room and watch as they slowly drift to the floor. There’s the wall I would always tape all my new posters and my collages that I created out of the latest AP ma gazine issues. It’s still covered, but it won’t be for long. In a matter of days that wall is going to be blank. This room is going to empty. Those pictures, now lying on the other side of the room, are going to be packed up into a box and placed in some cheap self-storage unit. I can’t take all thes e soon-to-be-gone memories staring at me. I escape to the bathroom and sit on the lid of the toilet seat. My bedroom used to be a sanctuary where I could retreat but now I only feel a quiet nagging depression when I enter it. The bathroom is now my new sanctuary. Sure, it’s nowher e near as comfortable and it is always freezing. I watch as goose bumps form on my arms. I hug them to me and sit there quietly, pretending that everything is perfectly fine. I stare at the ugly pealing wall paper that lines the walls. As ugly as it is, I’m going to miss it. I listen carefully and hear only my own breathing and a continuous leak from the bathtub. Drip. My ability to cope is running low. Drip. I need an escape. Drip. One that is father then just the bathroom. Drip. Suddenly. Drip. The. Drip. Noise. Drip. Is. Drip. Too. Drip. Much. Drip. I run out of the bathroom and decide to go with my backup plan for times like this. I grab cold medicine and take a big swallow from the bottle. I slowly make my way to my bed. I lay down. Still wearing the clothes I wore to school. I try to just clear my mind. It’s a fruitless effort. Before I begin to delve into my own dark mind, the drug induced sleep put me out of my misery for another few precious hours.

-bye