My thoughts are frivolous and childish.

I can’t stand to look at artistic things with words written on them, because I feel like I’m indulging in emo- faggotry.

I hated calling my cat her name because you didn’t like it.

I hate myself every time I say’ ow’, or ‘well…’, or ‘ I don’t know’ or ‘I’m sorry’. I feel like a pathetic waste of life that cannot learn from my mistakes.

I hate that so many of the things I think are important or deep mean nothing to you. And I feel that you don’t even recognize that they hold value to me.

But I suppose I don’t do that for you. I don’t listen very well. I can’t remember things. I know you try, but you want instant validation. I want that too.

I hate myself when I interrupt you, or get caught up in my emotions and can barely talk. Or when I pointlessly argue.

I hate that my mind always looks like thoughts whirling around in a vast washing machine full of cloudy water. I usually lose them before I can complete them.

I can change. Jut not with you around. It becomes so much harder because I spend my energy fighting you and fighting myself, than making it easy on myself and not having to fight you.

And I miss you when I’m not around you.

It sickens me the wrongs you have done to me, and to Kelsey. She and I both deserve better. I hope she knows that.

I can’t believe how naive I still am, even in the face of you stealing from my most treasured place. From your lies that you weave so beautifully and seamlessly. How can I ever know if you are lying or telling the truth? You seem real, but maybe like Chloe, you are just a believable liar. And maybe you really did force her. You have almost done it to me. And I’ve heard you on the phone with Kelsey… so controlling.

But I could go on, except for the plank in my eye, it’s making it hard to see.

I do indeed sometimes stab you in the weak points because I feel like I’ve put up with so much, that I’d rather like to be like everyone else, and actually say what I want to. Instead of just trying to not let it bother me but failing and trying to absorb all the hurt, like a kick to the guts, and pretend it doesn’t hurt.

And I want to try to remember not to take what you say as a personal attack. You are actually trying to help me. But pointing out my failures reminds me that I’ve failed. And failing sucks.

Why do we fall down? So we can get back up. If I don’t remember that all the time, I’ll never be as cool as batman.

I think he can be my new mentor. :)

I wish I could just fall asleep and die… It seems like it would be welcome. The stillness, the silence, the quiet, the dark. It seems like it would be so comfortable, to be embraced by the dark, enveloping arms of death.

But I must walk the path of the living for now. I wish I could just go insane though. Go live in my own little world.

decided i dont want to be broken anymore. i want to be strong. i have started on that path again…

hard to type, falling asleep, took 2 nyquill about a half hour ago. man they really have it down to 30 minutes on the dot.

read batgirl for a while, inspiring.

met zeke for panda, wore my high heels. nice to feel tall sometimes.

finished com reading, finished reflection journal, started com extra credit hw, did anthro quiz and com sylabus quiz.

just have to tie up loose ends with stress class hw, finish com excr, find my physics book online, and do the hw. possibly a prelab too because I’ll have to leave early wed. for work. must change availibility.

or get new job. been applying. gotta send off emt for az. and get certified as phct.

portfolio is now on front burner, for the ny thing with my mom.

new truck from ettie coming soon hopefully. manual.

things with zeke are looking up. im getting to a point at which it doesnt suck so much. took a couple weeks though.

still concerned with mike. honestly i dont know how i feel about him…

accutane still progressing. should remember to take pills more often, and stick to the regimen.

sleep calls me. ranna calls haha

when you fall in love, no one ever seems the same. no one is going to replace them. no one is going to do the same little motions, have the same feel. i read something today.

“It’s funny your muscles have a sort of memory about them. That’s why you can tie your shoes or play piano without looking, but then you spend a long enough time with someone and your bodies memorize each other, you know, the warmth of your back, the pace of your heart beat, your ticklely eyelashes, and the way your fingers would curl up in sequence as I used to play with your palm.

Another person is like moving to a new country where you don’t know the language. It’s a scary thing.” It’s from To Claire: From Sonny.

People are so individual, yet so fucking different. How can I be replaced? How can I not be that replacement girl? I don’t have the same connection. Same goddamn serenity to take things so easily. To be so strong.

And the other girl looks like me. Acts like me. Does jujitsu and photography and she laughs like me.

When will I learn to let things go?

when oh when…

When I start. Its not going to magically happen. duh.

All the answers are right in front of me. I just dont want to see them, because somewhere i feel like letting go is wrong, is letting someone get away with it, or meaning you dont care anymore. But maybe thats what I should do.

I should stop being so fatalistic. throwing myself into despair about things.

This is a bit of a struggle to write.

I’m glad im high because it canted my normal frame of mind on the world off just a bit, and allowed me to see something that was invisible from the previous angle. I build invisible walls. when stoned, im easy going and making friends doesnt feel awkward. i purposley distance myself from people and believe that they are better friends with eachother than with me. But it doesnt have to be that way. I add that. I don’t touch other people unless im dating them usually. doesnt have to be that way. I try to control my emotions better because I think thats what theyare doing, but in the end i usually end up crushing them down better, too much even, and I look like I dont care.

And remember, everything in your head, comes out even if you dont say it. Anyone perceptive enough or close enough to you will feel it. Feel the distance.

In other news, I am untrustworthy. Fuck.

Someone once asked me to prove I loved them. Now someone asks me to prove my trustworthyness. I don’t know how to do that. The last person I struggled to prove something to, left me.

Such words.

Left me.

Left.

Me.

meaning my being, my essence, everything that I am and embody, is deserted and utterly alone.

I miss love.

I miss giving it. I miss recieving it. I miss kisses and hand holding. I miss love making.( I really don’t like that word combo, but I don’t know what else to call it. It is sex, but it is SO much more.)

I miss my drug of choice.

I’ve been smoking again. Third day in a row. Too stresses. Nails flaking again, I’m tearing them off too.

Thoughts hazy, but that could be from the drugs. I want to sleep for an eon. And never have to deal with this again.

It must be inevitable, that when people get really close, their relationship begins to break down. They see who eachother really is. And they want to change the other.

Unless they are meant to be married. Or are very established on a self journey, and they have basically become a jedi.

I want to start reading the bible. And religious texts in general. I’m sure there is much to learn and ponder.

but now the struggle to write, to think is overcoming me.

the last thoughts are

my relationship with zeke is swiftly becoming that of mine and mikes just before the end. No one makes sense, everything hurts, but the make up is sweet. then things fall apart again. just a cycle of suffering and confusion and silence punctuated by brief moments of excruciating happiness.

So this is the part where I throw myself at him with all I have in hopes of keeping him. But in the end he might still leave. No matter how much he says he cares.

I’ll just keep smoking the invisible walls away and hope things work out.

best of luck,

me

I’m sorry Zeke. I never intended the hurt I have given. I might be wrong, but I think I have to find out the hard way.

It feels like I’ll be alone forever. Or not with the right person. I want someone so beautiful, but I am not beautiful myself. Most people aren’t beautiful. I am shamed by how I see the flaws in others.

I think this might be bad. I feel pretty shitty. Not the worst ever. But still. The happy things I write about seem utterly frivolus and completely pointless.

I want to sleep and never wake up.

But then there’s a voice in the background now saying I’m being dramatic, and if I really didn’t care I’d have cut up myself tonight. If I really didnt care I’d let zeke do whatever and not even try. My mind is so wrapped around ‘me’ and how I feel and what I like and what I don’t like, what I want to do, what I did, me me me. I can’t think of others, and when I realize I’m not, it becomes about how I suck because I didn’t think about them in the first place. How do i escape this?

I’m enraged when I think of him and how he feels towards her. ENRAGED.But why?

Because he isn’t angry with her. Even after she literally CRUSHED his soul. And I somehow feel like I should be angry in his place. Because she abandoned him. Because she hurt him so badly.

But yet he just hates himself instead. Yet another reason I feel like I should hate her. He damages himself. And takes it out on me. Mother fucker.

And he still talks to her. Every day he said. Because he loves her with all his heart. Fucking great. So he is going to throw away his happiness by pining away. I don’t care if she is or was his soul mate. He needs to fucking get over it. (Not that I want him for myself, but it breaks my heart to see him so broken, and continuing to drag himself across razor wire by talking to her.)

He isn’t letting himself heal. He might as well be cutting. And recutting, and recutting and TEARING the wounds open again.

When he said he loves her with all his heart I could hear that every fiber of what he said is true. And it made me feel like a cheap, ugly paper doll in comparison to her. A radiating goddess. And then I never wanted to fuck him every again. Because it hurts my ego I guess. I’m not special. So there. I am being selfish.

I’m tired of being half-fucked and then when I don’t put all my energy into it I feel like a failure because no one gets finished and we all feel worthless.

I don’t even know what I’m doing.

He is afraid to lose me as a friend. He does care about me. He wanted to leave me as a friend so I wouldn’t be so hurt. Your self esteem has fallen. You don’t fight back anymore. You’re more passive than ever. And I feel like I’m dragging you down.

He has never been more right. And I don’t know what to do about it.

I try to leave him to his own ends, but he appears, and wants something from me. And I do miss him and want to be around him.

But I can’t fix things. I can’t even help. I make things worse. Almost always. I think he needs a hug, and he doesn’t want to be touched. I think he should be left alone, and he asks me why I don’t hug him. I ask questions and he says not now. I don’t say anything because I don’t want to ask questions or pry or say the wrong thing, and that’s just as bad as saying something.

I can do nothing right.

And then I start thinking how all I think about is me. Why can’t I help him? Why can’t I be a better friend? Why am I such a failure? I need to learn how to be more supportive, read him better,… on and on. And then I see that I’m even making his pain about me. And that is wrong. But I don’t know what else to do. It seems part of equation to issues is me, and thats the only part I can try to fix. The others are often unknown to me, or I’m just oblivious.

So I sadly lack the level of comprehension and other-awareness to deal with him or his issues. He is above me.

And now I feel like shit. Cool.

I am now the confused dog who gets beaten for anything, and maybe if I just submit some more, they will love me, and I’ll be doing the right thing.

I’m too upset to think anymore. I’m confused and don’t know what to do, or where to go. And my inaction is just as bad as action. I have no delicate answer, no easy way out that I can see.

“Its like I’m addicted to being miserable.”

learned helplessness

when people say positive things about us, we disbelieve them or it hardly registers with us that the words were ever spoken, whereas we latch on to every negative comment as confirmation of our mistaken beliefs about ourselves.

It is not uncommon to unconsciously surround ourselves with people who reinforce our poor self-image and to feel uncomfortable around more positive and/or well-respected or esteemed people. It is astounding, for example, how many daughters of alcoholics end up marrying alcoholics, despite promising themselves they would never do so.

For someone with low self-esteem, blaming oneself can feel so right that the person might not even bother to rationally examine the matter.

but here’s the sick part. I do rationally examine myself and see that I have indeed fucked up, and seem to be continuing on that trajectory. I set myself up for failure, because I don’t try to remove myself from the things that cause it.

(note to self: please remember to stack pages. The little things are important too. Thinking about this, and researching is helpful.)

I partake in ignorance. Running from my problems. But this doesn’t resolve them, particularly if they follow me about, like debt, or fines. I always try to run, to escape my problems. Louder music, driving faster, video games. Physically leaving. But how can I possibly face the problems I have? If I live in fear that I could die every time I get in a car, I’d never drive again. How do I balance looking at something, and ignoring it? A simple answer would to be not to fear it. But I have not achieved this yet.

It is critical for your own survival to focus on healing, not revenge.

will expound on these later, but its 4:58 am and I am still awake? not sure why. 11/11/2010 4:58am