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i haven't felt the need to write in this journal for quite awhile. [11 Apr 2003|03:09pm]
I'm a very jealous person. extremely jealous. When we go out places, I have a tendency to glare at other females just for looking at him. Sometimes I think about how exactly I'd make them regret the day they did such a thing. Those are the times when I think I might be insane.

I trust him more than any other male I've been with, he hasn't done one thing to fuck that up, thus far, but I still cannot put my complete trust into him, and I don't know if that's a bad thing, or if it's okay that I am cautious.

I have no doubts that I love him, but I have some doubts about him loving me back, sometimes. I know he loves me to a certain extent, but I'm just not sure how far that goes, or if it's as deep as mine goes.

I have this fucked up tendency to think "Oh, he met me online, so maybe he wouldn't bother to cheat on me physically, and he'd just find some intelligent, yet hideous skank online, to fulfill the intellectual gap that there is in between us." That really freaks me out. I don't know if I'd consider that to be cheating or not, though I probably would.

If this relationship fails, it's over. I can't bother to try anymore. I won't bother.

Sometimes we argue over stupid things, and I cry. I can't understand that. I cried a fair amount before, but that's not nearly as much as I do now. My emotions are running rampant, and I don't exactly like it.

Maybe I should've saved myself for a person who needs no one in their life but me, someone who can tend to my selfish needs, and who will try not to leave my side very often, so that I don't have to have these fucking panic attacks over what appears to be nothing.

I don't know why I'm like this. I've been cheated on before, but hasn't everybody? If anything, I should be grateful that he doesn't kick the shit out of me like others in my life have done. I'm so fucking insecure, and sick to my stomach. I feel like I could die right now. My heart is pounding, my throat is tightening up, and I have this sick feeling that it's all for nothing.

I hope it's all for nothing, and I hope that my fears are completely unfounded.

It's not like I can tell him to avoid other females at all costs, because that would be bordering on obsession with this stupid subject, and it wouldn't solve things at all.

When we were back home, in that tiny apartment, and it was just he and I, I was the most happy. I think that's when he was, as well. I want it to be like that, in our future. I want to be able to have sex with him, without worrying about family members or roommates hearing us. I want to be able to lay with him and just, smoke cigarettes and talk. that's all I want, and it seems so fucking impossible to achieve, right now. it seems like I've been away from home for forever, and like the next month is going to take a year, but I know it'll come soon enough, and then maybe I can calm down.

I don't think it was smart of me to try to leave home at all, in the first place. I have some major separation issues, it seems, much worse than I had realised. I just want to feel at ease again, and I haven't felt so in the past two months.

I'm still glad that I am here with him, because I don't know how well I'd deal with being without him. I'm in love. I'm a little freaked out, but still, in love.

. . Done.
Comments: 2 bruises - Abuse me...

Ugh. [20 Oct 2002|12:21pm]
Shit's gone sour.

Sort of.

In one aspect, life is wonderful.

But that's the only one.

I've decided people are fucking pitiful.


And sometimes I'd like to shoot them in the head, but from now on, I'm just avoiding it all. I'll work, wait for him, and try not to blow my brains all over the wall.

I haven't felt this low in so long. I haven't wanted to end it in so long. I'd like to just cut the shit out of myself, but I don't know if it'd be smart. I'd like to be able to do it without people questioning it. If I want to hurt myself, and it makes me feel better, it should not be an issue of concern with anyone else.. besides maybe him. But that's totally different. I appreciate every opinion he gives me, and every kind word he gives me..

I feel like crying, but I don't think I will.

I'm giving up everything. Besides the one mentioned above. I can't fucking handle this shit anymore. I've been through too much of it, before.. And it's almost killed me, before. I don't want to die, but it sometimes seems like the only smart solution to any of this.

I just want it to either be over, or have a new beginning. Fuck it.
Comments: Abuse me...

Wow. [23 Jul 2002|09:10pm]
[ mood | Frustrated. ]

It's been a long ass time since I've written in this. Or felt the need to, even. For the most part, I'm extremely content, lately. It's amazing, to be honest. I didn't know this was possible.

Anyways. On to the reason why I felt I should write in this. My mother is having a terrible night. She's having these strange fits, where she'll cry and hug me, and then she and he will scream at eachother, and then she'll cry and hug me some more.. at one point she even told me that when she dies, she wants me to take her rings, and not let "them" get to any of her jewelry. I hate it when she's like this. I'm exactly the same way, and I suppose that is inevitable, but still. When it's me, it feels like it's justified. When it's her, it frightens me. My mother is supposed to live long enough to see me marry, and to see her first grandchild and whatnot. I don't know how well I'd be able to handle it, if she wasn't around. Her other two children aren't even in highschool yet. Granted, she doesn't see them often, but that could change, at any time. If she'd only get clean and stay clean. I'm being a huge hypocrite when I say that, but I'm also 18 years old, not 38 years old, and I do not have three children depending upon me.

I love my mother to death, but she should not have had children. She's just the type who is going to continue to get fucked up, on a daily basis, until someone intervenes and places her in rehab, just like they did with my papa. I don't want to have to be the person to do that to her, really I don't.. but if I must, I will. I feel like I can't leave her, anymore, because she'll have a breakdown if I do. I feel like I'm the parent, and she's my child, my irresponsible child. I hate to see her doing this to herself, and I swear I will never become that. If I do find that I need mind altering substances to keep myself sane, I will certainly not have children. She should've known better. She was only a bit older than I am now, when she had me. I do not want to be her. I know I'm not responsible enough to be a parent right now, and I probably won't be, until I'm well into adulthood. I don't even know if I want children, for sure.. Though the way things are going right now, it's definitely a possibility..

I'm just venting, and sometimes when I vent, I completely lose focus of the subject I started writing about, and I just write down everything that pops up in my head, which may or may not be a good thing. I think I'm done, for the moment, but I have this strange feeling I'll be writing more later..

Comments: Abuse me...

eh.. [22 Apr 2002|12:45am]
[ mood | ehh. ]

i fucked up again.

not in anything big.. and not with anyone new.

just with myself.

i honestly think this is it. i'm finally going insane. i'm turning into one of those psychotic ex girlfriend types.

i was so happy, for so long, and tonight, it just all came crashing down on top of me.

i can't even bring myself to cry. i just sit here. i figured maybe writing would help, and the such.

i didn't mean to leave as i did, but i don't like to be speaking to people when i'm this way.

if i still did such things, i'd drink myself stupid right now.

ah well.

it's not going to work. i'm not fucking normal. i shouldn't try. i'm sorry, you.

though you'll probably never read this. it's for the best. yeah.

i'm just going to lay in my bed and pretend none of this happened, now.

Comments: Abuse me...

Eh.. [25 Mar 2002|02:57am]
[ mood | Eh. . ]

I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't even had the motivation to write, recently.

I sleep a lot.

It's soothing. I don't have to think, when I'm awake. Technically.


Before, I'd spend every night, before I fell asleep, thinking about ways to die. I thought it would prove to everyone how important I was, if I was gone. I realise now that, I was just a selfish little girl.

I now have more practical reasons for wanting to die. I have tragic events to blame it on, and mental illness to blame it on, and so on.

I might be ready, to do it. I won't, until I'm absolutely sure I can go through with it, and have no regrets.. But I'm close to that point as it is.

It just feels right to me.

I'm not trying to be cowardly, or run from my problems.. I just don't want to live anymore. I feel like I've been waiting for this, for years now. This feeling I have. It's like I'm at peace with myself, finally.

I'm ready to go.

But there's still that nagging feeling, in the pit of my stomach, like there's something keeping me here. I can't shake it. It won't disappear.

I'm giving this as much thought as I possibly can, at the moment. I feel sort of sad, sometimes, but it might be for the best.

I'm not going to be quick about this, either. I'm taking my time, and trying to figure out if life has anything left to offer me. I'll give it awhile, and a few more thoughts, and perhaps give myself more options..


I'm probably done writing, now. I'm beginning to feel sick.

Comments: Abuse me...

Eh. . . [05 Mar 2002|11:59pm]
[ mood | A little relieved. ]

I've got this odd feeling, that I'm becoming less needed. Like, everywhere I go, and everything I was once known for, and known as, is being slowly stripped away. It sort of scares me, but I guess it's about time I moved on.

I sort of have this urge, to prove everyone wrong. I want to succeed, and be able to throw it in their faces. I know that's selfish and petty of me, but I just feel like it's something I need to do. I need to get on with my life, and the such, but I cannot do that, until I stop dwelling on the past. I need to confront all of the issues that are getting to me, and end the conflict. I just don't know where to begin.

I might see about getting into therapy, again, just for a few years. It helped me, I believe. I could be wrong, and brainwashed and the such, however. You never know. My father's convinced that my therapy never did anything for me, and perhaps he's right, but he is the one who paid for it.

It did help to talk to someone, and know that they were not allowed to tell anyone what was said. I felt safe. I can't talk to anyone, anymore. I have some issues with trust, but for good reason.

I live in this miniscule little place, where everyone knows your business, for the most part. If they don't know what's going on with you, they'll make things up. It's sad, really.. But I've learned to live with it. Even Aneeka's acting like one of them, as of recent. I don't want to be 'best friends' with someone who can act like that. It disgusts me. Especially since we've both always prided ourselves on being nothing like anyone else here. We've always been known to confront someone, when we have an issue with them, not run around behind their back and insist that we're going to 'kick their ass.'

I'm not violent, anymore. I avoid it at all costs. I think it's sick, when someone uses their obvious bulk/muscle to beat someone down, instead of sitting down and discussing it rationally. I sound like a hippy, but it is a good way of life, I think. It'll never hold up, when I finally move out of state, but until then, I remain at peace with myself and those around me.

It's amazing, how I start out something, writing about one subject, and by the time I finish, I've covered ten different areas. It's wicked, really. Ah well. Shows I have a lot of thoughts running through my mind, or something.

Anyways, back to me losing my 'place in life'. I don't know if I want to be known as a 'bitch' anymore. I just want to be ditzy and peaceful, and blissful. I've noticed that people with, less intellectual capabilities than others, seem to be happier. I'm glad I spent all the time I did, learning what I have, but I still think, perhaps, I'd like to be 'dense' again, just so I don't have to contemplate depressing things. I restate, I probably make no sense, but fuck it.

I sort of liked, being known as the 'mean' one, and being feared, and whatever else. But, I do believe this is better. Being calm and peaceful, and friendly. Or whatever.

I've become more sensitive, lately. Not sensitive, like caring about the needs and feelings of others, but sensitive, like I cry over tiny things, and the most miniscule 'insults' make me feel like shit. .

Then there is the issue with the boy, but that's already been covered recently.. though I may write more on it, later in time.

For now, I'm finished.

Comments: Abuse me...

. . . [04 Mar 2002|02:19am]
[ mood | . ]

I wonder what the fuck happened to me, sometimes. I used to be this relatively happy person, who people wanted to be -around-, for the most part.. And now I'm just this gloomy, whatever the fuck I am. It scares the hell out of me.

I don't want to end up being one of those bitter old women who lives with like eighteen cats, and leaves the house, once weekly. I suppose I'm already on my way to that sort of a life, however. I just can't even bring myself to get out of bed, most days. I miss my old life, and I miss being happy, and actually wanting to do things.. But I can't fucking shake this feeling of dread, that I have in my stomach. I feel sick, constantly. I feel like something terrible is happening, as we speak, and it's all my fault.

I can't think of anything that has happened recently that was my fault, at all. I'm probably paranoid. You can add that to my list of disturbing characteristics. I'm just weirded out, about everything.

I'm possessive over anything that's mine, including my snatch and whatever else I used to give out for free usage anytime I got a drop of alcohol in my system. I mean, it isn't such a bad thing, I suppose, that I'm no longer so.. promiscuous, but I feel like something is missing in my life.. Something very crucial.

Maybe they're right, and what I need is to let someone 'love me'.. but I cannot bring myself to do it. I'm very defensive. I keep everything tucked deep inside, as of recent. I barely reveal anything about myself, anymore, because I see where it got me before. I have a reputation as being a skank, with people who have never even fucking met me. Some of them, are okay, and they don't judge me, but that's a very small number of people. I know I was not 'sinless' in the past, and I probably am not, now.. but fuck it. Get over it. I'm not perfect, and no matter how much I reform, and become the complete opposite of the person I used to be, there will still be that time in my life, hanging over my head, constantly, for the rest of my life.

I wish I could start over, and be like, 11 again, but it just isn't possible.. I wish I hadn't done the things that I did, but they did happen, and they are there to stay. I just wish people would realise that, and get over them. Get your own lives, stop meddling in mine. The part of my life, that is no longer me. I couldn't imagine myself doing anything of the sort, anymore. It disgusts me.

I let people use me, and fuck me, and break me, and whatever else they wanted, as long as I wasn't sober. It's a shame I became so dependant on alcohol, especially with my family's history and whatnot, but it did happen, and I am making every effort possible, not to let it return. I don't want to be like that, anymore, and if I lose all of my 'friends' and whatever else, because of it, then so be it. If they liked me because of how I was, before, and not who I was, then they were not real friends to begin with, I suppose.

This whole thing sounds like a speech my mother would give me, but maybe my mother's a lot more intelligent then I give her credit for.

I realise I write this same thing, over and over again, same concept, different words, but I just cannot believe how people treat eachother in the world today. It's sickening, really.

I am one of them, however. I shouldn't be, but I am. I'm slowly trying to grow out of it, and grow up.. I don't want to be like I am. I never imagined, when I was younger, that I would grow up to be such a vicious bitch. I can, however, work to shed the title, slowly..

. . .

Comments: Abuse me...

It's morning.. [03 Mar 2002|06:18am]
[ mood | Awake.. ]

And I'm awake, yet again. It's sort of sickening. I'm scared to sleep at night. I don't like having a nightmare, and waking up, and being in complete darkness. I don't like the dark, when I sleep. I don't know how much I like it, while awake, either.. Unless, of course, it happens to be to my advantage.


I wonder if I am truly losing my mind, sometimes. I feel insane and alone, a lot. I am alone, a lot, but I guess that's the way I like it. I'm frustrated with the outside world, sometimes. And at other times, I fear it. It's sort of intimidating. I've been away from the 'real world' for quite awhile. I don't mean like, locked inside my house.. I've been in this town, this frightening little town, for so long.

The people here are so strange.. They're sort of convinced that the rules don't apply to them, or something. They're so, into themselves, and into their children, and anytime anyone suggests anyhing 'new' or 'different' to them, they run around all out of sorts, and talk about the person, until it drives them away. I think I've become one of them. I still feel like I'm separate, but, at times, on certain days, I feel as if I'm becoming one of them, and totally swearing off change, or anything new.. And it scares the shit out of me. I don't want to be here, by the time I hit 20.. Or even 19. I want out, it's just that it's so comfortable here. I'm never forced to do anything, or be anyone. I just stay inside, for the most part, and I do absolutely nothing that is in the least bit productive, and I'm fine. . But sometimes, I feel like I should have more, and be more of a 'real person'.. But I don't know.


I've had so many offers, to take me out of this place, and give me better things, but I keep turning them down, and I'm not sure why, yet. I make up excuses, but they're not the real reason. I guess maybe I'm ashamed. Perhaps I'm not all I should be, at this age. I've never had a job, or had anything that was really 'mine'.. And I don't know yet, if I ever will. The easy way out of this rut, would be suicide, but I don't want to die anymore. For the first time, in years, I feel alive, and I want to stay this way.


I also sometimes wonder, what would've happened, if I'd stayed in school. I would've been a senior this year, and maybe I'd actually have some ideas on what to do with my life. I'm fucking confused. I know I need a job, to live, and to eat, and to finally come out from under my family's wing, but I don't even know where to start. I thought I'd get my GED, before I even attempted at a job, but maybe, it'd be best to just get it over with, and finally do something that makes my family even relatively proud.

My family. . . I'm ashamed of the way I've treated them, and the shit I've done to them, and I can't take it back.. It saddens me, sort of. It's in the past, though, so whatever.

I've rambled on long enough. . .

Comments: Abuse me...

I wonder if this is normal, sometimes.. [13 Feb 2002|06:59pm]
[ mood | Confusion. ]

This weird fucking attitude that I have. I cry a lot, and I sometimes think it's normal, but then everyone around me seems to be my opposite. They all seem so happy, and I'm just the one who mopes around and never smiles. I know there are people 'like me', but I don't feel normal, anymore.

I sob over tiny shit, and over big shit, and over anything that fucks me off in the least bit. It's sort of like my emotions are magnified, times one hundred. I'm never peaceful, and calm.. I've always got to over-dramatise everything.


I sicken myself, sometimes. I don't want to be me. I don't know what fucking happened to me. I was a calm, happy child, and then, when I was 13, I had my breakdown or whatever. I tried to _stab_ her. The woman who gave birth to me. I shouldn't have been released. I'm starting to get that feeling again. Like the one I had before the first 'incident'. There's also nothing I can do to stop it. Ah well, perhaps it'll make people stop trying to change me.

I've got this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sort of like, something bad and tragic and horrible is about to happen, but I don't quite know what it could be, yet. Perhaps it's me. It might be the end. I don't see myself having a future. I never have. It's been my experience, that with people around my own age, most have goals for themselves, and can see themselves living to an old age. I've never had that. I don't feel like even surviving the night, anymore. I'm not glad when I wake up in the morning, I'm disappointed. If there was a God, he'd put me out of this misery, and let me rest in peace. But apparently it's up to me, to either live, and make something out of myself, or end it, all on my own.


I've been sort of thinking lately that perhaps Travis was good for me. He made me realise that it's impossible for me to have a successful relationship. They're not for me. I thought I wanted one, but apparently I was wrong. I knew what I was doing when I fucked around. I was drinking, but I was still sober enough to realise what was happening. I ruined it intentionally. I hope he learned his lesson. Don't try to get with people from the 'other side of the tracks', so to speak. I'm stubborn, and I'll never, ever change myself for someone who could end up leaving me. I'm me. I've developed this unique personality, and if you can't deal with the way I am, as a person, then fuck you.


There are so many mixed emotions running through me, right now. I'm contradicting myself every two minutes, and I'm so fucking confused. I don't know what to do about anything anymore.

I want to go back, and live my life all over. I'd do so many things differently..

I guess that's it, for the moment.

Comments: Abuse me...

Ugh.. [08 Feb 2002|10:09am]
[ mood | Quite well. ]

I don't even know what I'm doing. I can't believe I even had that thought. To hurt myself, over someone so completely not worth it, would be positively idiotic. I think, a few years ago, I would've done it, but I have matured, hopefully, since then.

I wonder why this even gets to me, at all. I pride myself on not caring. It's sick, really.

I've been thinking, that he's fake, for quite awhile now. It was too good to be true, however, not really. I've done better, in the past. At least the people I've had relationships with, before, could see their own faults. They weren't these self-involved whining brats, like this one. They were real. They had drinking problems, and anger issues, and they were real people. They were human.


Sometimes, I think, that I'm not the insane one. I could be perfectly rational in all of my thoughts, and not even know it. The world's standards are fucked up. Humanity is fucked up. It makes me sick to my stomach, just thinking about it. People use eachother, all the time. It's so sad. I didn't used to do this. I used to be innocent. I'm not talking, when I was 5 years old and shit, I'm saying, just a few years ago. Maybe four, maybe three. I wasn't this manipulative, angry creature that I have become. .

I don't understand it, anymore. The world has certain limitations on certain things, and they want you to have a certain attitude, and be a certain way, and I can't stand it anymore. I wanted to be alone in the first place, from the times back in the 7th grade when I'd 'go out' with boys just so we could pretend to be a couple. It was idiotic, now that I think of it. I was stupid to even start. I was stupid to ever have sex.. but that also was something that I thought I had to do. I was accepted, and still am, because of this facade I put on.. This isn't me. It never was. I pretend because if I suddenly change, and try to reveal the real me, people will think I'm faking that.


I'm making no sense, but I don't care anymore. I don't need to impress anyone. I just want to write down what's going through my mind right now, just so I can re-read it a few days from now, weeks from now, etc.

It feels good, to write. It feels good, to feel. I'm so happy I have this way of venting, of making myself feel better. I'm actually beginning to stop shaking, and to have some calm thoughts. I don't know why I even began to care.


I'm finished with relationships, at least, until I move. Perhaps I'll find someone in WA, who I can tolerate. You never know, right? For the moment, however, I'm going to continue to work on my GED, stay as sober as possible, and redeem myself for every heartless moment I've had, recently. I want to be me, again.. I don't want to be this cold bitch. I want to open up, and be honest, and have beautiful thoughts again. I want to be able to state my opinion without fear of being ridiculed for it.. I want to not fear people anymore.

I want to be the me that I was before I got caught up in this fucking dreamworld.


My stomach is calm. I'm breathing normally, and I've completely stopped shaking, besides a little quiver here and there.

I don't think I'll go to my mother's, today. I'll stay in town and hang out with my girl, tonight. I miss that shit.

I'm finished for the moment. Suppose I'll shower.


Comments: Abuse me...

I'm very selfish.. [30 Jan 2002|11:38pm]
[ mood | I'm sort of inbetween. ]

I've realised. I'm uncaring, and selfish, and totally immersed in myself. It doesn't really matter, I suppose.. I have nobody else to care about. I can't even bother with my peers/family anymore. They can handle themselves. I won't even pay attention. They don't need me, and I don't need them. Perhaps.


I have this habit of just rambling on and on and thinking the things I wrote are good, and then afterwards, I read them, and I realise that I made no sense whatsoever. I suppose I shouldn't care that it made no sense, you know.. They're my words and all.. But I've always been really concerned with the appearance of things. Mostly myself. I'm starting to think that my decision to never have children, was a smart one.. I'm too self-absorbed to have kids. I'm not motherly. I don't have that built in motherly instinct. It's sort of tragic, but it's probably fate.

I won't make the same mistake my mother made. She should not have had children. I've turned out horribly, but hopefully my siblings will be okay. They're too young to start acting like her. It's good that she doesn't see them, I believe. I only wish that I could see them. They're my baby brother and sister, you know? I'm attached to them. They were the only thing keeping me alive, when I was younger, and now they're gone. I'm overdramatising, again, but fuck it. I don't care how small of an issue this seems to be, to others.. It's a huge thing, to me.


I'm rambling, and making no sense. Fuck it.

I'm a selfish cunt. That's all I wanted to say. I get off track, quite easily.


Comments: Abuse me...

I might be crazy.. [27 Jan 2002|01:13am]
I want to write, and write, and just get this all out, but I can't. There are no words to describe the sorrow I feel. . Except that.. sorrow.

Maybe he's right, though. I shouldn't have even convinced myself that I could go through life being a sane person. I'm fucked up. There is something wrong, in my brain, that makes me hurt people. It's not a constant thing, either.. It just comes and goes. Someone says something relatively offensive to me, and I throw all of my ammo at them. I use the only thing I can, to hurt them - my words. I regret it, so deeply, afterwards. . but that doesn't stop me from doing it over and over. Rarely do people even fight back, anymore. Nobody questions it. I'm just a bitch.

I don't mean to act like this, and be like this. I hope you know that. It's like I turn into a completely different person. My eyes narrow, my heart begins to beat quicker, and I fire off my words at the intended target.


I'm sitting here, writing this, instead of what I had originally intended to do. The razorblade is sitting next to me. It has a slight glow reflecting off of it, from the light of the computer. It looks so appealing, but I don't know if I can allow myself to sink this low, again. I haven't done it in so long. I remember how it used to soothe me. I'd just turn over my arm, so the inside of it was showing - always the left arm. I'd clench my fist, and watch the veins sort of bulge out at me, then slowly go back into hiding.. Finally, I'd dig the blade into my skin, just a tiny bit, and begin to pull it smoothly across my skin. I'd lift it up, and watch a thin line of red appear. Then it began to sting, which was the best part. I think it's what helped me the most, is the pain. I liked it to burn, and hurt, until I was shaking, just slightly, from the agony. It felt as if all of the hurt, and the sadness, and the guilt, and the envy, all were bleeding out of me, with this single line of blood. So of course, I'd have to do it again, and again, until my skin began to itch, and I would scratch, drawing the blood out of their perfect little lines, spreading it all over my skin, and finally feeling the relief that comes along with this beautiful practice. .

Sometimes, people asked me, in the past, why I did it. I couldn't explain it.. I suppose it's just something that you can't explain to someone who views you as being "strange" for venting in this way. Some people turn to drugs, others to sex.. There are so many ways to deal with your emotions, I just happened to choose this one.


Perhaps I do have some rather serious mental issues, but doesn't everybody? I'm sick of being judged. I'm sick of people trying to change me, and make me act as if I am something I am not. I'll never be "normal". I'll never have a successful relationship, either, I've begun to think. Something inside of me, fucks up every single relationship I try to have. Even back in the day when I was with Arthur, I threw his ring into the trees. I was such a stupid girl. I could've been happy, perhaps. But I fucked it up, as usual.

I'm told I have low self esteem, which is highly possible, but honestly, I think I'd rather be insecure and cautious about the things around me, as opposed to being overconfident and careless.


I guess I don’t have anything else to write, right now.. Maybe later. Right now, I’m going to mourn over my losses.
Comments: Abuse me...

Eh.. [22 Jan 2002|12:27am]
[ mood | Eghh ]

I'm trying to remember, all of this shit, from my youth, tonight. I guess I still am in my youth, but you know.. I want to remember everything that happened before I matured, and before I fucked up. I want to remember my childhood, and all of that. It was happy, for the most part. That, I remember.


I just can't even begin to reminisce about anything, anymore. My memory is shot, unless I need to remember something tragic. If that makes sense..
It's a selective memory. Any happy memories I did have, before, are now stricken from my mind. It's kind of sad, really. I did have some good memories, and some happy ones.. But for the life of me, I cannot even begin to remember them.


I should stop rambling, and the such. But it's all I've got to do, right now. I'm trying to write and write, until I touch upon that one thing that's bothering me. I don't know what it is, but it's driving me insane. I've been bursting into tears, all day long.. I'm going insane, perhaps. Finally losing my mind, etc.


I've run out of things to bitch about, so I shall continue this later, after something new pisses me off.


Comments: Abuse me...

I want to say things.. [20 Jan 2002|11:58pm]
[ mood | Ehh. ]

Just, to write, about everything that's pissing me off, right now. Alas, I cannot. Everything that's bothering me, needs to stay in my head. I don't want to let it out. It'd either relieve me, or totally break me, and I'd rather not find out which.


Life is fucking strange, right now. I'm more moody than ever before. I'm not sleeping, or eating. I can't figure it out. I'm not doped up, or cranked out, or anything. I just don't bother with normal everyday proceedings, anymore. I can't think, or hate, or love. I just can't do it. I feel dead, sort of. I'm not motivated to even feel like shit, anymore. I'm just numb.


At times, I feel like I could finally just break down and cry, and then it disappears. I drink a lot. It helps, with certain issues. However, I do need to quit. People I'm rarely even around anymore, ask me about it. One guy suggested I seek treatment, last night, but I won't. I can't. It'd be too embarassing. Plus the fact that I'm not even half as bad as my mother, or any of my other family members. I'll get over it. It's just a phase. I hope..


I really truly do fear actually turning out like my mother. I mean, she's my mother, and I love her, more than life itself.. But I don't want to be her. I've seen what her lifestyle does to her. It's killing her, slowly. I don't want that. I know that if I put my mind to it, I could go somewhere, and probably succeed in life, it's just, there's no motivation there for me. So, I succeed in life, have everything I could possibly want, etc.. And where does it get me? Dead.


I'm probably not even having rational thoughts right now. But it feels good to vent.. So good.


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... [12 Jan 2002|02:20pm]
[ mood | drugged... ]

I wonder what's wrong with me, at times. I'm so, concerned about the opinions of others. People I should hate, but don't, because to hate them is to let them get to you. So you deal with their bullshit, and fight back when they argue, and pretend that you like them, and everything stays safe.


That isn't how it should be. At all. That isn't how anything should be. But it is. And it's sick, really, if you think about it. Online and offline, anywhere we go. We let people control us, just because we're afraid of the consequences if we dare to disagree. It's bullshit. We need more balls.

I suppose some of us(them) have balls, and the ability to speak their minds. But they're also convinced that they can do no wrong.

I had something good going here, with my writing. But I lost it.

I think I'll go cry..

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Eh.. [07 Jan 2002|04:04am]
[ mood | blocked.. ]

Perhaps I am far too sensitive, when it comes to myself, but completely heartless when it comes to most others. But isn't that, all in all, being a human?


I could be wrong. I suppose.. It's highly likely that I am wrong. Eh. I had things to write. But I don't think I shall.


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Bleh.. [07 Jan 2002|01:02am]
[ mood | sick to my stomach.. ]

I did it, last night.. Again. I made myself bleed. It had been so long, that at first, it was just a stinging sensation in my arm. But then, I felt, like I could breathe again. All of my troubles bled out of me, at least for the moment. They were just, gone. I could think, again, without bursting into tears. It was such a feeling of relief, that swept through my body. I've missed this....


I won't allow myself to slip and do it again, last night was just the worst night I've had in a long time. I needed it, to keep myself sane. I don't cut for the attention, or because I'm 'seeking help'. I do it because it helps me. It makes me feel, not so alone.. I've never been one to talk about my problems. Noone in my family has. I was always taught to just keep my opinions to myself. I have a very, conflicting personality. I'm not very sane, in the first place.


I'm just the crazy girl who sits in the corner, all alone, and rocks back and forth. I think I kind of scare certain people. They all think I'm extremely intelligent, and 'in touch' with myself, apparently. Or so they say.. All of the people I grew up with, from around here, the ones who stayed the same, while I changed. I don't know what exactly made me different, but I can't sit around and pretend to be happy like they can. I'm not one to fake a personality, and I'm certainly not one to just sit around and let the world fall apart around me, while I fake a smile and pretend everything's fucking peachy.


I've been thinking about my future, recently. I never did before, I just assumed I'd be dead before I had a chance to try out adulthood. But apparently I was wrong, because I am now an adult, but I have no idea where the hell I want to go in life, or what I want to do. My mother wants me to go into that horribly militant and strict program. But I don't deal well with authority. I've been spoiled my whole life. I've always gotten what I wanted, and now that they're actually saying no to me, I don't know how to react. I suppose I could go along with it and let them walk all over me, but I don't want to do that. Eh. I guess I've run out of things to write, for the moment..



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. . . [06 Jan 2002|02:52am]
[ mood | .. eh.. ]

I can't even think, anymore, without having thoughts about, that certain subject. I suppose it would do me good to just, get over it.. But I can't. It was my own decision, to do it.. And I have to own up and face the consequences. I need to stop whining about it, I suppose..

Perhaps he's right. Perhaps I should stop feeling sorry for myself. But I can't. I haven't had a bad life, I know.. But it hasn't been the easiest, either.

I suppose it was my own doing.. Everyone thinking I'm a slut, now, is because of the way I acted in the past. I did that on my own, as well.

I can't even, think, right now. My mind is so fried, and I've been crying so long, that I don't even remember what brought it on.

I started thinking about dying again, tonight. It might be the best thing for myself. I don't know if that makes sense, but sometimes I feel like, I'm so alone in this world. And nothing goes my way.. Nothing goes for me. Everything that happens, happens for a reason, right? Well, perhaps the reason that everything happened to me, was to show me, that I'm not meant for this world.

That makes no sense.. But fuck it. It's my journal. I don't care anymore.

I'm not even able to complete a thought, tonight..

I give up. I'll try again later...


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I want to hurt someone. [26 Dec 2001|01:41am]
[ mood | Fucking hell.. ]

I want to hurt her, and him, and them.. anyone but myself. I won't do that to myself, again. At least not yet.

I go insane, when the tiniest things happen. And then I think, about doing myself in. I think about it hurting them. All of them. But some of them, the innocents, I don't want to hurt them, like that. The small ones. They're young, so they might forget it. But you never know. And I don't want them, to be anything like me. Or like her.


I want to cry, but I can't. I'm not sad, I'm angry. I want to hurt someone. I want to make them scream, and I want them to hurt me back. I want to get my ass kicked. I need it. But he isn't around anymore, to provoke. He's moved on. So have I, until nights like this come around. Then I want him here. I want him to hurt me, and make me cry, and make me feel utterly worthless. It helps me. It's what I deserve. I can't help it. It's how I think.


I sound insane, rambling on. But I'm slowly feeling better, as I write. The tightness in my stomach is easing, the throbbing in my brain, is slowing down. I'm relieving myself, of all of these emotions. I'm getting them out, and it feels good. But there's always that warning at the back of my mind. I like to write, and get it out. But someone might read this, someone who views me as, what I portray myself to be, and they'll judge me. They'll hate me for having these thoughts. But it helps me.. That's all.


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Eh.. [21 Dec 2001|01:47am]
[ mood | aghh ]

I've just realized, I speak of offing myself, quite frequently, but I've never really considered what I'd feel like if one of my friends actually went through with it, as well. I suppose it depends on the friend, but for the most part, a large part of those whom I speak to are quite important to me. Some more than others. Some of them seem like happy normal people, completely the opposite of me, and then they inform me of their need to put a bullet in their head, and it shakes me up. Scares the hell out of me, to be exact. I don't deal well with death, at all. Knocks me on my ass for months at a time. Puts me into a deep depression, all that. And I suppose that's normal, but it doesn't even have to be the death of anyone I knew that well, just, anyone who played even the smallest part in my life, and it'll pretty much kill me, for months on end.


I'm probably just too sensitive for my own good. Too sensitive to survive in such a cold, cruel world. But perhaps not. I suppose I'll find out, all in good time. I'll just go along with the trends, pretend to be the normal ditzy teenage girl, and live. Not happily, but alas, living.


I'm beginning to lose my mind already, and I don't believe that the self-caused deaths of any of my close friends would help much. So I hope, for my sake, and his own, this wasn't too serious.

I'm probably overreacting. I hope I am.


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