Rah

Life is useless.

She’s Right

“Scream all you want; no one’s listening” That’s Caitlin’s MSN message. And I swear to God it’s the truth.

Can’t you hear me? I’m screaming, scatching at the walls. I want out! Can’t you hear me over the deafening silence? No, you’re too busy looking away, listening to other people. When will you notice me? When I’m legally declared crazy? When I’ve finally grown the balls to kill myself? No, that’s too long. I can’t be saved then.

If you do something now, I can be saved, I’ll retain my sanity. I won’t feel that urge to toss myself in front of speeding vehicles anymore, or daydream of OD’ing on sleeping pills. Save me, you motherfucker. I can’t get myself out of this hole by myself. All you have to do is give me a hand, a referral to a psychiatrist. I’ll get better, I swear. I don’t WANT to be suicidal all the time. I don’t WANT to have these crazy high-low episodes. Please, just help me.

…

I’m so low at the moment. I feel like shit. My self-esteem is gone. My tear ducts say it might be a good time to let some tears flow, but I don’t feel like crying. I want to end this misery. I don’t know what to do at the moment. I keep going in circles; I go through my usual webpages over and over and over without really taking them in. Someone give me my sanity back please?

I Painfully Realize Now…

When you’re gone, I’ll get rid of everything that reminds me of you. All the social-networking sites we shared will be removed from memory; both computer and my own, all the the alliases we had will forcefully be forgotten, the pictures and music we sent each other deleted. But… I also realize now I want to keep your blog. And all the conversations we had together. I love you more than you’ll ever know and it hurts so bad. I’m not angry, strangely enough.

I’m saving every post you made into MS Word. You didn’t even get to 17, you know. You were waiting until you turned 18. You believed you’d be free. And through all this, I’m starting to really believe your friends when they said I was the cause of all your pain. I bossed you around so much. It’s like a sick replay of when we were kids. I suppose everyone, though, bossed you around. We all wanted you to get better, be happy. We all had your best interests in mind.

And you know what’s so fucked up? I can’t even close our last conversation box. If it’s there, maybe I can pretend you’re still there. And I keep having these wild hopes that you’ll wake up alive tomorrow. If you do, I’ll love you forever and ever, never judge you, agree with you when you say you are fat, anything you want. JUST DON’T FUCKING LEAVE ME.

I WANT TO FEEL HUMAN AGAIN!!!

Trapped

Stuck within my own mind. Thoughts never ceasing, driving me mad. Will this not go away? Will I never, ever escape this torment? You’d be disgusted to know that all of what I need is in my head. Don’t need to talk to people cuz you’ve all got a copy inside my head. That’s right, you could be sitting across from me, talking to a good friend and ignoring me while in my head, you and that friend are talking with me, oh-so-interested in what I have to say. And you always ask all the right questions, gasp in all the right places and love me unconditionally.

I sound like a sociopath. Perhaps I am. But I want to talk to people for real, not this all-in-my-head business. I want to have friends again. I want to stop being a self-pitying, self-loathing, self-serving, frigid, antisocial bitch. I want to stop imagining my life away. I need to stop daydreaming about a family that loves me for who I am, about being lovable… This is just depressing.

Sanity Is A Relative Thing and It Escapes Me

I feel so fucking ill. I never thought you would ever make me feel this way. I never thought conversation with you would make me void of soul and leave this painful vacuum in its stead. You make me feel dead inside. I want to laugh.

It Was A LONG Month

Where to start? The head-first dive into depression? Breaking edge? The broken promise? Sleepless nights? The spiders and all the beetles? My stupid, harpy of a stepmother? My bratty little half brother?

The beginning might be a good place. The drive down wasn’t that bad. Took us 3 and a half days.

We (me, dad, and Vern) got to our summer house late afternoon. It wasn’t more than 4 hours later my brothers Andy and Chris show up with Andy’s girlfriend Jen. They talked our ears off. Then Chris stayed the night. Me and Chris stayed up till 4am talking. We talked about our anxiety, my depression, cutting. He made me promise to stop cutting. Fuck him. He promised me he’d talk to dad about my anxiety and depression so dad would get me to a therapist and on medication. Fuck Chris because he never did a damn thing! Fuck Chris cuz he was so drunk he couldn’t remember a fucking thing. Why the fuck should I honour the promise I made to him if he didn’t honour the promises he made to me? There were other promises, but this one burns the most.

I felt like shit most of the month. I got so depressed at times I wanted to die, or something to distract me from my misery. I wanted to cut so bad, but I thought Chris would pull through with his promises so I didn’t. It was this depression that lead me to breaking edge.

I was invited to stay the night over at Chris’s apartment for the night. Yup. This is where I break edge. I was invited because I was miserable at the family reunion earlier that day. My aunt Sherrie thought it’d be a good idea. Sherrie, Chris, Andy, and my cousin Matt all live in the same area (actually Chris and Andy live in the same apartment building and Sherrie and Matt live in the apartment across from Chris and Andy). Plus, my cousin Amanda was visiting Sherrie (her mother) with her two kids. Amanda and Chris picked me up from North Tay, that’s where the summer house is, and then we went to Sherrie and Matt’s apartment. When we got there, Sherrie was already smashed. It was both sad and hilarious at the same time. We (me, Chris, Matt, Amanda and my cousin Andrew) watched her down a wine glass of gin and orange juice. We laughed as her words got so slurred and as she stumbled around. Then, Sherrie tried to tell me that I didn’t have to drink any beer and stuff like that. She was so far gone. After that, She went to the liquor store with Andy to get more booze. It was after she left that Chris offered me a beer and Matt handed it to me. I WAS going to refuse. For some reason, I couldn’t refuse. Maybe it was because I wanted to drink with them. May be it was my tiny crush on Matt that made me take the beer. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any fucking spine and I felt so much pressure. Anyways, it escalated from there. We went outside and drank more. Went to my cousin Kelly’s party. Drank more there. Nearly passed out on some boy’s bed. Disgusting, isn’t it? I’d love to blame this event on someone, but I know I’m the one at fault. I didn’t have to accept the beer. I could have said no. But I didn’t. SInce then I have been switching between self-pity and self-loathing.

I had lots of nights where I couldn’t sleep. A couple of them were energy drink-induced I know. The rest of them, however, I have no clue what cause was.

Stupid harpy bitch, aka my stepmother Mary Anne, was nothing but bitch bitch bitch, whine whine whine, kvetch kvetch kvetch when she arrived several days later.

And my little brother Vern was horrible. I can’t even express how he acted. The effort of finding the right words is folding my brain into an origami swan.

Lastly, the bugs that resided in that house. It’s like oh em gee! Look at all the spiders and beetles! I killed at least 20 bugs in all. Spiders: I hate them. Especially the one I nick-named Indianna Jones before killing it, as it decided swinging across my room was a novel idea. I didn’t actually mind Indy at first because he was pretty ninja. He managed to get across my room without me noticing and I was looking out for him like a hawk. But Then he had to swing over my bed like the real Indy in Raiders of the Lost Arc. It was lights out for him.

Here I Am Again, Assuming the Worst

I haven’t talked to Caitlin for 3 days now and I’m worried. I just read a disturbing blog post on her Netlog page. She titled the post “Bye” and I am assuming the worst. I feel ill. I want to take back the email I sent to her earlier today, asking her if she died or something because she hasn’t logged onto MSN for several days. I think she hurt herself. And I’m scared. For the first time in a long, long while I am scared. My best friend, the friend I knew literally all my life because our mothers were friends, could be dead. I’m so close to crying. I need to tell someone. But there’s no one I can tell.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Every single time you make progress, I swear on my mother’s grave that you sabotage yourself deliberately. People think you’re faking all this for attention. Sometimes I wonder…

Is anger the answer? Are tears the answer? I get so angry. I cry for you. Neither has done much. I feel helpless. I try to do everything I can, but it seems to amount to nothing as you just push help away.

I Don’t Know What To Do Anymore

My best friend is a trainwreck. I can’t help her anymore. And, strangely, I can’t get angry about this. I can’t cry, either. I’ve recently learned that she’s gay and I’m alright with that, but she isn’t. She thinks that it’s either suicide or she’ll end up hurting, maybe killing, a lot of people. Maybe she’s right, maybe she isn’t. All I know is that I have no more influence over this matter; it’s up to Caitlin now.

What Do You Do?

Let’s start talking hypothetically here. Let’s say your best friend goes through this dramatic change in personality. They start cutting themselves and become very moody. Then they are sent to the hospital and are put on Prozzak. Three weeks later they come back with this cruddy attitude and say things like “fuck life”, “fuck society” ect. Then you become very pissed off after hearing that they decided to cut themselves in public and start ignoring them and avoiding them. What do you do next?

Feeling Kinda Empty Again. And Welcome To Stabmonton

Misery. It does NOT love company. Or maybe it’s just my period. Or maybe I just need some theraputical help. Pfft. As if that’ll ever happen. I feel ill. I feel worthless. I want me to go away. I’m sick of myself again.

Humanity is disgusting. Thomas Hobbes was completely right to say that human nature is bestial. More fucking stabbings going on. There was a girl in my class today who was talking about her cousin who got killed in a gang-related stabbing. The funeral is tomorrow.

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Now playing: 30 Seconds To Mars – R-Evolve
via FoxyTunes

Of Straight-Edge, HardxCore, and Personal Values

I am straight-edge. sXe. I follow the basic “rules” of sXe to the point where I could be called hardxcore. It’s not so hard. I have my temptations. I have my sorrows (I’d like to drown).

I wish to find an answer to the uneasiness I feel when I think about other sXe-ers. If I talked to one, would our conversation end up being about who’s more hardxcore? I despair.

What would be wonderful is that someone would give me an opinion I’d never have to question. Being sXe, casting off all crutches and living a healthier lifestyle than most others around me. I try so hard to have my own thoughts, develop my own opinions. But I don’t think I’m good enough. I don’t think what I am is good enough.

—————-
Now playing: Assemblage 23 – You Haven’t Earned It
via FoxyTunes

I Can’t Say The Words…

Why can’t I tell her why she makes me cry at the barest hintings of wanting to hurt herself? She is the person whom I consider as my little sister. To know that she doesn’t exactly love herself kills me in ways that no one knows. I hurt. I hurt. I’d do anything to see her happy. Will she ever notice this?

What could you see?
What could you find?
If we meet please avert your eyes.
What I’d never show, what you’ll never find
Is explosive so hide your eyes.

—————-
Now playing: Blaqk Audio – The Love Letter
via FoxyTunes

My Belly Stings…

So Caitlin hasn’t quit her razor blade romance like she said she did. I feel sick now. A razor blade will offer some alleviation of this distress, but that would be hypocritical as I try to get Caitlin to stop.

Absolve me of all my sins. I committed yet another today: Avarita (greed). I so wanted to unload my despair for the world, and managed to dump it all on Caitlin. Now I hope I haven’t given her another reason to hurt herself.

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Now playing: HIM – Drunk On Shadows
via FoxyTunes

Do You Happily Cut Further In To Sever What’s Inside, That Binds Me?

NO one should EVER feel the way I did after exiting Crossley せんせい’s class. I felt like shit because I felt really fucking inferior to everyone. Everyone really remembered everything. I didn’t. For the first time ever, I didn’t want to be in that class. I felt so stupid. Crossleyせんせい sorta talked to me in a soft voice that suggested that she thought I was not so smart. It hurt.