today i crashed. i broke down. i cried. and cried. and cried. i yelled at my mom. i hurt her. she hurt me. i found out my picture perfect family isn't so perfect. it feels like we are falling apart. there is so much tension. so much pressure. i'm cracking. i'm dying. i'm failing. i no longer can do anything right. i'm not good enough for anyone. i don't live up to people's expectations. i don't even live up to my own. i'm a pathetic person. i've fallen so far. i'm in so deep. i'm drowning.
Is alone Isn't whole Can't handle little misfortune Breaks down every day Needs attention constantly Craves attention constantly Isn't loved Doesn't love Is scared to love Lets people down Gets let down Gets ditched for cooler people Isn't 'cool' Doesn't know how to act Is laughed at Is made fun of Is ignored Is 'weird' Wants more Isn't happy Wants to cry forever Cries at school Is loved by only my stuffed animals Plays video games to feel better Is isolated Is yelled at Is nagged on Locks herself in her room Is losing everyone she loves Is losing her independence Needs people Needs reassurance Is unloved by her brother Needs love Is lacking social ability Is in pain Can't heal Is afraid Procrastinates Isn't motivated Is losing interest in everything Occasionally wants to die Is always stressed out Can't talk about things Can't open up Is vulnerable Puts on a mask every morning Puts armor on every morning Has to convince herself that today will be better Is disappointed when it isn't
I want somebody to show they love me, Somebody to hold me tight. I want somebody to kiss me softly and sweetly, and to tell me that they love me. I want somebody to talk to; Somebody to share burdens with and cry with. I want somebody to console me, and tell me that everything's okay. I want somebody to protect me; Somebody to hide me away. I want somebody to fight away the demons and let nothing ever harm me. I want somebody to let me fight; Somebody who won't shelter me. I want someone to understand my independence and step down when babying me too much. I want somebody to have fun with; Somebody to laugh with me. I want somebody to go around town with and to forget about life with. I want somebody to be happy with me; Somebody to take away all my pain. I want somebody to make me laugh, when they know I want to cry. I want to be somebody's somebody. I want to show I love somebody, talk to somebody. I want to fight for and with somebody, and let somebody fight for themselves. I want to have fun with somebody, hang out with them and make them happy. I want to make someone laugh instead of cry. I want to be somebody.
Often times you hear the saying, “When life gives you lemons make lemonade,” but what about when life isn’t giving you lemons? That’s when you have to find your own lemons. You need to improvise and figure out a solution on your own. This past year I learned a very valuable lesson that seems simple. I learned to never give up. Sure I’ve been told this countless times, but this year I was tested and that lesson didn’t seem as simple as I originally thought. I came to realise that some times it is a lot easier said than done. Life stopped giving me lemons and I didn’t know how else to make lemonade. Last summer, Oma was diagnosed with secondary lung cancer. By the time the doctors found it she was already a terminal case. There was nothing they could do to help her recover. She was admitted to the hospital when she was too weak to stay at home. If she became fit enough to leave the hospital she would have to go into a nursing or retirement home. We didn’t know that she would never get that chance. That September I started school with a heavy heart, but with high hopes. I had found an unexpected friend that summer who soon became my best friend, I had a new boyfriend and I had a feeling that this year would be a good one, despite how sick Oma was. Too bad that was just a feeling. One month later my best friend’s brother, Joey, passed away from liver cancer. He was only 18 years old. I spent three days that week in Hamilton helping my friend cope with Joey’s death and survive the visitations and funeral. In the meantime my Oma was continually getting worse. It was a difficult time for me, especially when I went to visit her. The sight of her so sick nearly broke me, and the added pressure of school did. My only escapes were reading books, listening to music and strangely enough, because I hate it, writing short journal entries and poetry. I couldn’t take comfort in my friends or even in my boyfriend. I finally turned to God because I was in desperate need of help. Two weeks after Joey’s death Oma passed away. I was in a state of complete depression and still I told no one. I prayed, I cried, I wrote. It took me a long time to accept that she was gone, ever longer still when Jessica, from school, died in a car accident. Many people who were close to her came to me for comfort and I had to push aside my problems to help them with theirs. I put on a brave face and everyone was fooled. Everyone thought I was fine and many people didn’t even know I had any problems raging in my life. I couldn’t handle any of it though, and it showed, first, in my marks. My average dropped so much that I was no longer an honour student in only two months. Instead of focusing on fixing the problem, I took it out on my family by ignoring them almost completely even though I knew they were grieving too. My New Years’ resolution this year was to pull myself together and get back to normal. Ironically, breaking up with my boyfriend got me closer to that goal. I felt terrible about it at first, like anyone does, but I knew a relationship at that time in my life was another burden that I just couldn’t handle. I decided that I needed to get involved to get my mind off of my problems. I loaded myself up with extra-curricular and community activities to keep myself busy and, best of all, to be too tired to dream at night. I was so stressed that crying was the only thing that made me feel better. I still didn’t give up on my goal to redeem myself. I prayed like there was no tomorrow, asking for help. I found some relief when I unloaded my burdens by talking to God. Still, crying often felt better and I still couldn’t tell anyone about anything I was going through. I started not caring about school and was near to failing some classes, which was unheard of for me. I started skipping class and breaking rules. I was easily irritated by my family and often got angry at them for no apparent reason. I let good friendships fall apart and I’ve seriously maimed some of the ones that I still have. I continued messing up every aspect of my life and nothing went my way. Up until this point my brave mask was still in place and I was good at hiding everything, but soon I couldn’t handle it anymore. One day I started crying because my friends went out to lunch without me. They noticed when they got back and tried to get me to talk. I shrugged it away at the time, and then ran to class. Scottie asked me about it later I couldn’t hold it in anymore and told him everything. God had answered my prayers when He sent Scottie. He saved my life. When I stopped caring about school I also lost hope for my life and gave up the fight. I often found myself thinking about dying. I didn’t become suicidal because I knew I didn’t have the guts to do that, but I would fantasize about just disappearing or running away. When I hit rock bottom I didn’t know how to recover and I grabbed a drill and dug a little bit deeper before I finally found out how. Things are far from being back to normal and I don’t know if they will ever be, but as sure as the sky above us, I’m going to try to get them that way. I’m still learning how to balance my life and deal with problems that throw themselves my way and it’s no easy thing, but now I know that I can succeed. This time I won’t give up. I’m making my own lemonade now from the lemons I’m growing myself. It tastes nasty I have to admit but it’ll get better sooner or later.
Dark dreams plague my sleep, and during the day, I walk with my nightmares. The night is so much easier, because I don't exist any more. Don't judge me by my appearance. My hair is hiding my attempt to cover my tear stained eyes with make-up, and it gives my eyes privacy to cry. My tight clothes are merely holding the pieces of me together, and my wrists? They bear the markings of each passing day. It's been so long since I started counting the hours until things are better. Or until my dreamings come true. But then again, that's better than the nightmares.
From the very beginning I could see what was happening. Now that I think of it, I really should've done something more than my feeble attempts to save them. But how could I? I had no proof of anything. That's because there was no proof, because nothing had happened. Yet. And instinct just isn't enough to convince someone to give up what they love most. Or what they think they love most. Especially when the person doesn't listen much to you in the first place. In the end it turned out that it was me to destroy the failing bond. I guess I was the final piece in their crumbling puzzle. I was the one who destroyed them. I am happy about this? No, I am not. Only because I hurt one of my closest friends. And another not so close friend. The other piece in the puzzle. I was never good at puzzles. I couldn't even piece it all together until I was shown how. And even then it was incredibly hard. But him. He deserved all the pain he got from that. And that's the reason why I'm glad I did what I did. Because as much as I hurt her, he hurt her so much more, but she just didn't know it yet. That's why I was there. To tell her the horrible truth, to ruin it. For her. For the other one. And for him. So I am glad that I did it. I just wish it could've been someone else. But I know that I was the only one who could. And it was going to happen sooner or later anyways...right? I made it sooner, rather than later. He was in the wrong, and deserved to be crushed, although he was probably just putting on the show for us all. I believe he didn't care in the slightest, because, really, he didn't lose anything. He still had them both wrapped around his finger. And then he went for another one after that too. How selfish. Heartless. And they all could do so much better, if only they could see him the way I do. The real him. And not his charming alter ego. So if he deserved it, then why do I feel so guilty? Is it because I betrayed a friend - even though it was probably for her own good - to help another, but crush her at the same time? So really, I just ended up crushing them both. Some friend I am. No wonder they never talk to me about anything any more. And no wonder he hates it when I pick up the phone. I wonder if any of them could ever forgive me. I wonder if the other two know it was even me? Did she tell them? I wonder if I even want their forgiveness. Things just got so complicated so fast. And now, maybe it happened again. And I was to blinded by a stupid emotion to see it. I'm still blinded by that emotion, although it's long gone. I don't want to go through what I made my friends go through, and yet I think I am right now. But still, I'm blinded. By ignorance. By a false hope that I won't get hurt. So, from the very beginning I could see what was happening, in both cases. I just ignored my problems, and focused on hers. Now I can't. I have to stand up for myself. Because I know he won't. And no one else can. It's my turn to inflict the crushing pain. Again. but can I endure it like they have? Will I be as strong? To inflict the pain not only on someone I love, but on myself as well? I don't know if I can do it. But I have no choice...do I?
I was lucky. I wasn't a statistic. At least, I wasn't coming home as one. I was coming home as a soldier returning from war. I came home because I was wounded, and that probably saved my life. If the bomb had blown up any farther away the I would've come away from that incident unharmed, only to go back to die. I wasn't able to continue fighting, because my leg was so badly wounded, that they had to amputate. But I'm not bitter, or angry about it, like you might think I am. Instead I like to think that my leg gave itself up for my life. Silly, I know, but it works, and I'd rather live life without a leg that not be able to live at all. So I guess I am a statistic, because I fall under 'CASUALTIES'. I could have been under 'DEATHS'. So I'm thankful. I'm thankful for not dying in war; not having to know that I didn't get the chance to say one last goodbye. Thankful that my commander didn't go home to my mom and tell her that her baby girl had been killed fighting for her country; that my mom wouldn't have to relay that information to my big brother, husband, and my children; that I came home as a living statistic, rather than a dead one. I'm thankful that most of my friends came home with me. And I'm thankful that the ones that didn't went to a better place; a place that isn't corrupted with the terror of war, poverty, homelessness, and hunger. That they didn't suffer as long as the rest of us, and that we could come home to comfort their loved ones in their time of grieving. And I'm thankful that we have all moved on. However, my friends became statistics. Some are among the 4191 Americans that died. Others, like myself, are among the 30 774 who were wounded. And others still are lucky enough to be the ones who came out of war physically unwounded. None of us will be emotionally unwounded though. We will all carry the the emotional scars of war. Some will bear the burden, and others will not be able to handle it. We will ALL cry as our country goes to war with others, not only for our troops who are willingly giving their lives, but also for the troops that are from other countries, very possibly forced into dying for the 'right reasons'. We will cry for the people who become a statistic because they died while fighting. For every person who leaves with a face; an identity, and comes home as another number; their identity lost in the media, turned into a number, and soon forgotten by the people they need to be remembered by. By the people who are able to stop wars, the people who will be the future of peace.
So I have to write a monologue in drama... It has to be centered around the theme of 'war and peace'. That is kind of depressing if you ask me. But it has to be done...by next period, so I have 30 minutes to write it, and stay under the radar so my english teacher doesn't catch me doing other work in her class. This is going to be fun... I need a statistic first off. It needs to be any statistic from any kind of war. Past, present, good, bad, something. Then I have to write about 3/4 of a page on it. It shouldn't be too hard, I mean, it's just a monologue, I write them all the time. I just hope I don't get caught.... Anywho, back to school work... Fun.
If I were the queen of Canada, it would be freakin’ sweet!!!! I would like, party all the time, and everyone would love me because I’m their queen, and everyone would be happy!!! No one would have to work, because working is stupid. We would share our food and homes with everyone, and we would live in prosperity. And then, whoever marries me, would be the king!!! Then Canada would be a monarch country….would we be a state then? No!!! Because I said so, and I’m queen, and what I says goes!! Anyways, back to my king. I’m married to Cailyn, so she would be the king of Canada, and together we would party with our royal subjects, and be merry, and eat lots of food!!! Kyle would be the court jester because I think he would look funny dressed up in a funny suit with the crazy hat that has bells on the points and matching shoes! That is if the hat would stay on due to his hair…. But that’s beside the point!!! He would sing and play music, and tell of the amazing deeds of noble warriors and people who are cool. And his assistant would be Blair because Blair can juggle, and jesters should be able to juggle. And then, because I AM THE QUEEN, AND I HAVE LOTS OF MONEY (WHERE THE MONEY COMES FROM – NO ONE KNOWS!!!) I WOULD BUY MYSELF A SKI HILL, AND GO SNOWBOARDING ALL THE TIME. Yes, I said ALL THE TIME. Because I’m queen, I would have the ability to control the weather, and I would make it snow all the time!!!! Lots of snow for everyone! And only people who like snow would be allowed to live in my country (not state because I says so) and we would have snowball fights, and build snow men and snow forts, and we could go tobogganing on my ski hill, and snowboarding and it would be a winter wonderland! This will be continued, I don’t know when, but it will, because I’m the queen of Canada!
Do you ever feel so torn between polar opposite emotions that you just end up being neutral? Unfeeling and uncaring? Like a robot? Just because you are so confused about how you should feel? How you want to feel? I feel like that. Sort of. Sometimes. Except when I'm so torn that is depresses me. I can't feel happiness. I can fake it, and sometimes it's real, just for a while, but it eventually fades. It's inevitable, when you're torn. I am torn between happiness, and depression. Sometimes I feel like I just want to cry and never stop because that's what makes everything better. At the same time I don't want to because I want to get better. I want to heal. I know I can't heal. Not yet. Not when the wound is so fresh, and when I'm still being wounded. I know I can't be depressed though. I don't want to go into a slum. No. Not again. It's to soon, much, much too soon for that. And I don't want to worry anyone. And I don't want to tell anyone. No. I can't tell anyone. Because then it all comes rushing back and I'm crying like a baby in front of them. Even if I don't really know them. Do you know how embarrassing it is to cry in front of people??? So I'm trying to be happy. To appear happy. To act strong. Maybe if I pretend to be strong, I will actually gain strength. Maybe. And it comes so randomly!!! Not strength. The unending tears. The unstoppable tears. The tears that make everyone worry, that make everyone make me tell them what's wrong. Why? Why can't they just come when I want them too? When I want to cry? No. They come when I don't want to cry. Because they want to torture me. It's not good enough for them that I'm already dealing with unbearable pain. They want me to endure more pain, and suffering, and embarrassment. All I want is to be strong. And for this to be over. Because then everything will be alright, and we can all go back to being happy. Oma will be walking with God. And she'll be happy. She'll never feel the agony of cancer again. And we'll be happy. We'll never have to worry if she's alright, because we will know. Of course there will be grieving. A great deal of it too. But after that's over, everything will be good. Easy. I wish things were easy. Soon they will be.
Losing someone you love is the worst thing you will ever go through. And watching someone you love lose someone that they love, that's the second worse thing. If you haven't experienced either yet, then understand that you are blessed. I am only 15, and I have endured the painful losses of 4 of my loved ones, and watched many more of my loved ones lose someone that they love. It's crushing. Heartbreaking. Devastating. And almost impossible to cope with. Not only did I just lose a friend, but he was the brother to one of my best friends. So I lost a friend, and I'm watching his sister - my best friend - go through a lose more terrible than my own. And on top of that, I'm watching someone die. Someone that I've grown up with. Someone that I can't imagine what life would be like without. Life can be so overwhelming at times, and right now I know that I can't take all of this on my own. But it's hard to take comfort from other people. That's why God is there. He will always be there. No matter what. And He is there to comfort you, to console you, when no one else can. "If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it. Happy moments, praise God. Difficult moments, seek God. Quiet moments, worship God. Painful moments, trust God. Every moment, thank God." For me, these are difficult and painful moments. And know that I am seeking God and trusting Him. And I'm coping, because He is with me.
I want to run. Run fast. Slow. Straight. Zig-Zagged. Far. Close. I want to run somewhere. To nowhere. No place. Or to some place. Run to reality. To all the complications. I want to run to fantasy. To simplicity. To happiness. To love. Or to anger. Hatred. Isolation. Loneliness. If I could run forever. Never stopping. Away from everything. And towards everything. I would lose everything. And gain everything. I want to run so badly. So desperately. But you know what? I can't run. Not from this. Not from anything. I'm stuck. Stuck with me. I can't run from me. I'm doomed forever. I can't escape. So I'll have to survive. Survive reality. The complications. But I can do it. With help. Help from You. And help from those You sent. I don't need to run. I just want to. Soon I won't have to run. I won't want to. Because I'll always be with You. And be loved. By You. And others. And I will love You. And love those who love me. You'll help me with that. Help me with everything. Thank you. For everything
Everyone's got a reason for drowning in their misery. Family issues, peer pressure, abusive relationships, ect, ect. They all have a valid reason, and therefore, have the means of fixing whatever it is that's bothering them. Then there are people like me. Wait, no, there's JUST me. I doubt there is anyone else even remotely like me. Want to know why? I have no problems. My life is hunky-dory. Perfect. With the exceptions of school, homework, chores, occasional bickering fights with family and friends. No one can have an absolutely perfect life, but I think I'm one of the closest people to it. That's not why I'm different though. I'm different because I don't have any problems to validate my reasons for utter depression. Nothing. Full scale depression should have a reason, right? Not in my case. So why do I lapse into this slum where I am forbidden to smile, to actually smile and mean it? This is my theory. I have always been the happiest person that I know, and now it seems that I have to live up to everyone's expectations that I=always happy-go-lucky+anything else that's happy Most times it doesn't bother me. In fact, it makes me happier. But not when I'm in this slum that I often find myself in. Now because everyone expects me to be happy, I don't want to disappoint them, so out comes my fake happy mask, and I try to make people believe I'm happy. If I ever were to let anyone know that I was unhappy, it's like people would think that the world is ending, because I'm ALWAYS happy. That's just the way I am. Mostly. And anyways, why burden them with my unexplainable misery? It would only bring them down too, and I can't do that to anybody. I can't steal someone else's happiness, because I know how horrible it is to not have it. But that still doesn't explain why I get into this slum in the first place. I don't even know why myself. Like I said before, this is just my theory. I think I have a limit of how much time I get to be happy. Ridiculous, right? Let me explain then, but bare with me, because I don't really understand it either. It's like I'm only allowed to have this set amount of happiness in life, and something is regulating it, so I'm not bouncing off the walls with joy for the first half of my life, then am a depressed old hag when I grow old. So it's like I get a bottle at the beginning of sometime period that I haven't figured out yet. So I'm using my bottle of happy and then I have an amazing day that puts all the others to shame, and it's like I use the rest of my happy that's in the bottle, and then the next day - BAM - I'm in my slum. Sometimes my slum lasts for only an hour or two. Sometimes it's a day or two. Sometimes it's extreme depression, and other times it's just neutral - not happy, not sad. I never know how long it's going to last, or how bad it will get. To make it worse, the only thing that I can think about when I'm in my slum, is why I'm in it. And I can never think of anything, until the last time when i created my theory. But thinking that there is nothing that makes me fall into the slum, just makes everything worse. It's the only thing I can focus on. So I end up pushing away family and friends, the people I love most, and isolate myself in a place where I am alone with my misery, where no one can save me, or drag me away from. No matter what. The only one who can save me is whoever it is that gives me another bottle of happy. And sometimes they don't come for a while. So before i try to climb out of this slum, I need to dwell on one more thing, just because this one has been pretty rough. What you ask? Well, I had though that I had overcome my irrational depressions. Because they usually come regularly, very often. Certainly I would not have two extreme ones within a month of each other. That has never happened before. Until now. I thought after the last one, that I had finally found enough reason to stay away from the slums and I hadn't fallen into any, so I believed that I was saved from them, because of the person who saved me from my last one. I've never been so wrong in my life. I don't think that they will ever go away. I'll always have them, and only if they come during that one week, will I ever be able to be saved from them, by a person at least. All the other times, I'm just going to have to wait for that bottle of happy. There are some things that help though. Or at least, I think they do. So maybe one day they will be able to take the place of my bottle of happy. Since I know the slums will always come, maybe I'll be able to find other ways to cope, besides my happy bottles and one rescuer. Until then, I'm waiting for my happy bottle.
--It wasn't actually last night, because I wrote this last week, when I had the dream-- Last night I had the most amazing, reassuring, and just plain uplifting dream I've ever had. I believe it was sent directly from God. Maybe I'm just being stupid. But just maybe. I was with another person. A guy my age. We weren't very close at first and I was kind of shy around him. As we got to know each other - mostly because he was eager to be my friend - I grew more comfortable with him. He always seemed to know me, love me, and was ALWAYS comfortable being with me. Then there came a day when I couldn't stand being apart from him. But then I never was. He went everywhere with me. He was always by my side and he encouraged me, held me, and protected me. I was never alone because he loved me so much and he never wanted to be apart from me just as much as I didn't want him to leave. There were times when we would fight, and we got angry at each other, but we never separated. Except once. I walked off with someone, and I got lost. I couldn't find him. I broke down and cried, I thought the world would end. I called for him, and looked everywhere, but I couldn't find him. Then at last I saw him. He was running for me. He looked so scared, but relieved at the same time, because he was terrified that I got lost, and relieved that he has found me. That was when I realized that I couldn't live without him. In that moment I felt that I could conquer the world. And I was peaceful, happy, and everything was perfect because he was with me. I can't even properly describe how amazing I felt. You'd have to experience it yourself. Then there was a problem. A life threatening problem. To me at least. But I was not afraid. I took his hand and together we ran to face it head on, and we were content. Happy. Confident. Loved. I knew I could do anything with him, and I would never lose him again. I believe that that guy was God.