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.

おわり と みらい

Here’s how today went down:

I get out of bed and I feel like I’m on top of the fucking world, dreaming of a straight-edge community here in Edmonton. That straight-edge documentary I listened to has completely changed my perspective on life and how I see things. On my way to school, my daydreams get wilder. They extend to actual sXe concerts and mosh pits gone crazy and out of control (bodies flying left and right, high on adrenaline and endorphins from various injuries). I get to school and the buzz gets me higher and higher.

The bell rings and I go to math class. We start learning a new linear function. Miyagishima talks so fast I can’t keep up when she tells us how to program our graphing calculators to make the line of best fit. I obviously miss something because even though I’m following instructions perfectly, I’m not getting the same answers as the teacher. I get so frustrated I lose the ability to speak. There goes the best mood I’ve had in a LONG while.

Next class, film studies, we watch more of Amelie. This movie is fucked up in more ways I can count on my fingers. I cringe at all the NC-17 scenes (sex, implied sex, and people having orgasms). Thank you, Anderson, for covering the movie projector lens during the last part.

I spend lunch moping in the library, mentally scarred for life and spiralling into what feels like the worst bout of depression ever.

Third class. Culinary arts. I dislike this class so much. We don’t go to the kitchen right away. Instead we do theory for 15 minutes and do some questions. I hand Hallowes my paper and he checks it over. My misery must uncharacteristically show on my face because he asks “Are you happy?” and I say “Not really” “Why?” “I’m depressed” “Why?” “It’s a clinical thing” “Do take medicine for it?” “No” “Do you talk to your doctor about it?” “No”. He hands me back my paper and I leave his small office. We then go to the kitchen and my group bakes chocolate and angel food cakes.

EDIT: I kinda forgot to mention that Hallowes was nicer to me after the office incident.

Last class is uneventful. We do review on our last chapter in this unit in social studies. At the end of class, Hamilton starts reading out Darwin Awards.

How My Disappointment Grows

I shall finally vocalize my disappointment that has existed since July 2007. There is this girl on a certain forum with which I am very unhappy. Another reminder (I’m starting to sound like a broken record): I’m straight-edge. This girl on the forum said she was straight-edge. But at that time she was screwing every boy that wanted her. Using Ian McKay’s idea of straight-edge, that isn’t straight-edge at all.

Straight-edge (officially) is: no alcohol, no smoking, and no drugs. Optional: no caffeine, no casual sex.

This girl was recently “tricked into drinking”. If she was really tricked, why did she give up edge so easily? It makes me ill. If it really was an accident and if she was really true to the edge, she would’ve continued to claim the edge. And now, on BISf, her posts have degenerated to tales of drunkenness and drugs. And more promiscuous sex. Disgusting. I’m finished with that forum.

I Gots Me A Stomach Ache An’ I Don’ Care

My stomach is all like “ew” cuz I just ate some chocolate and chocolate makes me sick. And now I am eating this gummy candy and drinking this diet chocolate-cherry Dr Pepper. I now feel even more “ew”. This Dr P tastes like a tootsie roll.

I am depressed. I got this new sXe Tshirt yesterday and I know I should be happy, but I’m not. I wore my shirt today at school. And then I started questioning the point of being straight-edge. For the millionth time. This is so stupid. Yes, everyone else get drunk/stoned on weekends. Yes, everyone else has fun. But they also end up coming back to school Monday hung-over, sick, and who needs that? Not moi.

Hi

I’m uber depressed. I’m not sure what to do. I need to find a solution for this shit. NO antidepressants. That’ll just make me more depressed. And it’ll break my edge. I’m the sort of sXe-er that doesn’t take any kind of drug in any shape, way or form. This includes not taking painkillers despite my killer headaches, not taking antacids for heartburn (salted crackers work just fine).

Seems the school finally called. I wasn’t in any trouble. That last sentence bothers me. Do they care? It seems not. They didn’t care when I was 35 minutes late Friday, Monday, and today.

Holy Motherfuck!

It’s 10 to midnight and I’ve managed to stay up this late without a nap! It feels like it been forever since I’ve been up this late.

(12:43am) *Le GASP!!!* The entirety of CexCells has been posted on the MySpace. HOOOOOOLY motherfuck. I’m about to hear Between Breaths. Not as hot as I expected. Dang (what a lame word). This will keep me awake for a while.

On A Friday- EDIT: it’s beat between breaths. My bad!

(1:11am) I’m not sure how I feel about this album. I don’t like too many songs. Still buying CD.

(1:31am) I’m not sure why I have the edge. I’ve got the straight edge lifestyle, but I don’t know why. I’m not a poseur. I swear. I talk the talk and walk the walk, but I’m still afraid that I can’t claim the edge.

Is it wrong? Is it wrong to call myself sXe? I’ve only been drunk once and then afterwards, about a year later, I realized how stupid it actually was. I haven’t touched booze since. I don’t do drugs, will never do drugs, due to my utter revulsion to what has become of Ben and Chris (my bros). They’re all skeletal and anorexic-looking. They’re mentally fucked up, too. As for sex… never happening. I can tell you that now, at the age of 16, no one will EVER in my lifetime want to fuck this. No need to worry about THAT.

WHOOHOO!

Live Earth is on!!! So excited. I don’t think I’m gonna sleep til I see AFI. Yeah, even if it means staying up all night til 8:30am when they start, and until they finish I shall force myself to stay awake. I’m so excited that AFI is gonna perform. They care for the environment! So do I, but since I’m already under fire by my parents for being a vegetarian, I’m afraid to vocalize it. Don’t want them calling me a modern-day hippie. As my older brothers undoubtedly will once they hear I’m a vegetarian. I’ll also be called a loser for being straight-edge. Drinking is their main pass-time. And drugs are the occasional recreation they have. Disgusting. Sometimes I’m nauseated that they are my siblings.

*sigh* Still 8 more hours to go. This Malaysian stool is starting to get really uncomfortable. Strange. For the first few days I had it, I thought it was the most comfy wooden stool that I ever sat on. I’m not tired, but I am bored. Nothing to do but watch the live feeds in Australia and Japan.

EDIT: I found something to do… *evil, perverted grin* Look at the Kiss Boys Kiss webpage. Now you know I’m a disgusting, pervy person. But I’m female, I’m 16, and I have hormones… that react at the sight of teenage boys getting intimate. THIS should keep me busy…