Dear My Long Lost Bestie,
I figured if I wrote you a letter you would find the time to read it (phone time hasn't really been in large quantities these days.) I want you know now that it is okay you have not had the time to listen to what's going on in my life recently, but in reality it would be difficult to actually tell you, this is why I also find comfort in writing you a letter.
I think I'm loosing my mind, and I don't know what to do. I've always been so sure of what I was looking for, what I wanted, and now, my mind runs a million miles a minute but with no end.
I cannot find security, nor ease when i am with my family. I feel distant, almost as if I don't fit in. And I have considered telling my parents how I feel, or I wonder why they haven't noticed, but I never actually tell them, nor am I around enough for them to see I am not who I once was.
Frustration consumes me, and it weakens me. I don't understand why Nick chose to do that, what made him walk away? I have been more than half tempted to call him and demand answers, but I don't. I won't. I know that the explanations he have will not be good enough and they will only hurt me more.
I feel like I have a little box, and inside that box there are masks, and each one fits to where I happen to be. There is a mask for work, for school, for the new "friends" I hang out with, for my parents, and I try to dig through that little box in search for one that has a true smile, but none of them are me.
One thing that drives me towards insanity is the contradicting issues that pressure me. There are times when I want to throw it all away: drinking, smoking, snorting, anything that will relieve me from this mind-torture I'm going through. I want to know what it feels like to be high on cocaine. I want to drink until I can no longer function, to where I would wake up in the morning having pissed my pants and vomitted on my favorite shirt, and be so hung over, I don't even care about any of it. I want to smoke until my lungs feel like theyre going to burst into flames themselves, just so i can laugh falsely and only think that I am happy.
All these thoughts are rebuted by my other thoughts. Those thoughts drive me to do well in school, to help out around the house, to not settle for any guy but the one that would give me the world. I want to finish school, settle down, have kids. Live the best life I could. Those curiosities of living a life of destruction are contradicted, and I know that none of those horrible things would help me, but I can't reach any sort of conclusion.
Each side, both good and bad, are screaming in my mind. i cannot hush either one and it is pushing me to my limits, there's just one thing: if neither side can win, what's going to happen? How do I fix a problem that is self-caused?
I have also thought what could be starting these thoughts. The people i hang around? No, they don't do drugs, they hardly drink, and they've never offered me anything. My parents? No, they don't smother me, they don't lecture me about anything, they are accepting the fact that I am growing up. And then I realize, it's me. I start the thoughts, and I continue to think them, I continue with all the routines I have, from work to school, from friends to family, nothing has changed. I guess just one day one thought popped into my head, and it only multiplied. But I CAN'T stop it, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to react, I don't know what I want! It's f***ing driving me insane! I don't want to do it anymore, I don't even know what is creating it, but I DON'T WANT TO DO IT! I'm feeling weaker and weaker, but I don't know what to do. I can't fix it alone, but I don't know who to call on. I have prayed, I have ask for help, for guidance, for strength, but I feel as if the devil is trying to get me every chance he gets. Like he's putting these thouhts into my head, like he wants me to call nick and ask for a taste of cocaine. He wants me to smoke pot. He wants me to get a fake ID. I don't know what to do, I'm so lost. I have always tried to be the strong one, to not cry to stand up straight, but I feel so weak. I cry more than I have in the past three years, and I hate it so much, but I can't help it. I don't know who can help me, or how, but i know it's not me.
I love you so much, and I miss you so much. You are the only person I can be with and be sincerely happy, without the obsession of over-thinking.
I feel dumb for writing this letter, because I feel so selfish. But i had to tell you.
Your best friend
I'm not sure what this is... writing first person. telling....no, asking a best friend for help
i got bored
Okay this is my first blog, and really, I have no idea how they're supposed to go, but I HAVE to write about icons, I just don't know what.
Icons are supposed to be visual: like an item, or a place, but for me an icon would have to be sound. I can see the best when I close my eyes and listen. Whether I'm at work listening to the machines working away, or at a concert listening to the drum beat with my heart.
I can remember the song that way playing the first time Nick and I "did it." But that music fades as I remember the things I heard when Nick told me he didn't want me in his life. It was my chemistry professors voice that pounded through my head, competing with the rapid beat of my heart. I read that stupid, heart breaking text over and over again; I wanted to leave class, I wanted to run and hide, but I sat there listening about the properties of Arrhenius Acids. Tears streaming down my face, and her voice echoing through my brain. My friend Rebbeckha leaned over and asked if I was okay, clearly I was not, but her soft voice soothed what my professor was trying to explain. The girl in front of me had an obsession with tapping her pencil and those little taps matched with the tears that pattered my notebook. Matt, to the side of me, moved in his seat like he had taken a line before coming to class. His pants brushing against the seat, driving me nearly insane. But I sat there quietly, staying to myself, soaking up all the noises I could hear, until it was all too much to bear.
"F%@&!!" And I left the class.
And that is how Nick left me.
<any sense at all? I think it continues to be about icons, not sure though... any thoughts or suggestions?>
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