Hear No Evil, See No Evil.

When Robin Williams left us, people kept on saying something along the lines of....

"Maybe people will pay attention now."

To me, that statement is somewhat bittersweet. Unfortunately, in this situation, my belief is that the bitter part over powers the sweet part. This is just one of many things that frustrates me about humanity, and society. Most of the time, it takes illness or something like death for people to open their eyes to certain things. Drastic measures make for drastic reactions. One emotion in particular brings others to the surface.

Fear.

It brings untouched emotions to the surface in a very quick and aggressive manner. It effects us all, yes, but in different ways. Those who don't suffer from mental illness, people who don't deal with the evils that are depression and anxiety, they have fear, but it's not the same. Their fear is subtle yet aggressive at the same time. When a person that doesn't suffer from any illness like those particular ones learns that somebody has taken their own life, it makes zero sense to them. So, there they sit, trying to justify it in a way that makes them comfortable with the random thoughts running through their mind.

"They should have gotten help."

"They should have gotten over it."

"It was a cop out, they were cowards."

"There's no way it was that bad."

"They were selfish."

NO. 

I can't help but get very upset when people make statements like that. I believe everybody is entitled to they're own opinion, we are all free to have our own beliefs. To each their own, it's a personal right. However, in my opinion, and in my experience....people who make statements like that have no idea what it's like to have severe mental illness.  Their demons are either nonexistent or quieter. Now, I'm not saying that I wish that everybody suffered from problems like that. I guess I just have very little to zero faith in most people when it comes to sensitivity and understanding. After years of having so many different problems, it's become very clear to me that most people aren't tolerant of things like anxiety and depression. They aren't patient with you, or the fact that you have those issues and it makes things harder for you. Or the fact that if you're anxious or depressed, it makes things of the most simple nature harder. They know, but they don't care, or they don't have the solution, so they pretend like it's not there. Some people will even go so far as to pretend that you aren't there. That sounds completely made up, I know, but I've seen it happen. People really can go that far, and they will.

I think that death is a trend at times, and it's very sad. When Phillip Seymour died, and people learned about his demons and drug addiction, they made statements that matched the statements about Robin Williams. Same with when people heard about Cory Monteith. 

"I had no idea. Oh my God, maybe more people will pay attention now."

Only, that didn't happen. Not with Phillip Seymour, Robin or Cory. Two days after Robin Williams was gone, people were promptly back to dumping ice water on their heads, and going on judgmental rants in their social network statuses. That's what I'm talking about when I say that death is a trend. People mourn, and move on, and that's totally acceptable. Only, I think it's unfortunate how people are so quick to make those kinds of statements, when they have zero intention of being more aware.

Over the years I've seen people take some very drastic measures to avoid helping others. Especially people who can't just openly admit that they don't want to help, or don't know how to help. For some, it's about effort, or having patience. Or, just not knowing what to do. For others, it's denial. They don't believe that depression or anxiety are real. For others, it's about religion. Suicide is supposed to condemn you to Hell, so you're considered to be evil before you're even dead. If a person knows you're suicidal, sometimes they will choose not to see or hear you for those reasons. I've also learned that those of us who are addicted to self harm are looked at as selfish, because we're hurting one of God's creations. Personally, I don't agree with some of that, but not I'm criticizing those who do. I'm simply pointing out some things I've noticed about people who are on the sidelines of the cruel game that is mental illness. Out of sight, out of mind. Only, not for people like me. The demons linger in our minds like cobwebs. 

"Please come back, but don't come near me."

I'm not really sure if that's a quote, or lyrics from a song, or what. I just like the words, and I found them on accident. I relate to those words, but I think they kind of tie into what I've been saying. People who chose to get angry at depressed, suicidal people, they tend to have that kind of attitude towards it. In a way, it's like they're saying....

"I don't want anything to do with you, but I want you alive."

Again, this is my opinion, I'm not claiming these things to be facts. It's just how I see it through my eyes. Now, I think a person has every right to feel that way. Hell, I'm guilty of it in a way. There's people I love, but can't handle being around. It's just one of those very suckish, very devastating feelings that some deal with from time to time. It's irrational, but there's nothing we can do about it. We're only human after all, you know? 

(Photographic Dramatization) 

Some of us have been marked for extinction since day one. Only....those marks, they can't be seen right from the beginning. As you grow, and get older, you learn, stuff happens. You learn about things. Beautiful things, happy things, sad and horrible things. You learn about yourself, and other people. You learn about how much, not just actions hurt, but words too. Soon, those actions, those words, and the hatred behind them, they turn into something else. There's a point that's reached, one that not everybody will always get to. It's the point where you realize that hurting them back doesn't bring peace. That's when the invisible mark transforms. The mark, it turns into a scar. After that, the scars....they multiply. I'm not the type of person that can just let go of the hateful things that people say to me. I wish I was, but I'm not. I'm just not that strong, and I admire people who are that strong. With me, it's like that whole demonstration with a sheet of paper. 

The paper, it starts of clean and unharmed.

 After it's crumpled up into a ball, and unfolded, it' damaged beyond repair. It will never be the same, no matter what.

(Photographic Dramatization) 

It can only get worse from that point.

(Photographic Dramatization) 

Worse and worse, until there's nothing left but wrinkles and mess.

(Photographic Dramatization) 

It's a shame that some of us are really that fragile, for many reasons, it's a shame.

One thing I've learned, is that sometimes, people just don't want to help you. It could be that, they are just that kind of person, or it could be that you're the kind of person that people don't want to help. Regardless, life goes on in one way or another. Me, I'm tired of life in general. I have been for a very long time, it's just how it is. Just recently, I was in a situation that was very frustrating. It was a level of frustration that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It was almost like sitting in the waiting room outside of Hell. I was trying to make things better for myself, and it just fell apart so fast. I'm pretty sure I lost a very close friend, and it will break my heart forever. That friend, along with another one, they said things to me that really hit me. Like a brick wall. Basically, I learned the perception these people have of me. It wasn't eye opening in the way you'd think either. See, they made assumptions about me, and based their opinions on those assumptions. It hurt a lot, and it made me hate myself even more than I already did. The fact that I had somehow made these people jump to the conclusions that they did, it killed me. The fact that me needing their help was just burden, and that I thought they were alright with me needing their help. Those are things that eat my emotions alive. During that time, I was lucky enough to have another friend, and a new friend....give me hope, and shine some light on certain aspects of my life. 

The best way I can describe these two people is.....fireworks. They are just like fireworks. Their personalities explode, and go all over the place in the most beautiful way possible. They're colorful, and able to take your mind away from all the bad things for a little while. Instead of telling me everything that was wrong with me, they made me see what could be. They pointed out the good things, and had me concentrate on those good things. Their faith made me believe for a little while. Their attitudes towards me weren't negative or threatening. They didn't make me feel stupid for thinking the things that I do. Instead of yelling at me, and talking to me in a way that triggered my anxiety, they were patient, they were loving, they were kind. They recognized my pain, and dealt with it in the most perfect way. I'm thankful for all of my friends. Even the friends that are no longer a part of my life. Maybe I'm mean for saying this, and I don't mean to be.....but there are just some friends that understand me better. People that understand that anger, aggression, and and negativity are not things that I respond well to. My own family hasn't been able to figure that out in the last twenty seven years, so I'm not in shock when I see that other people don't get it either. Only, when certain people understand that about me right away, it makes me smile. It makes everything better for a little while. It makes me forget that I am a walking mistake, and that I never should have been born to begin with. It makes me forget that being in pain is a burden to most, even those who are closest to my heart. It makes me forget about the demons that are constantly whispering in my ear.  When people treat me like a person, it just makes me forget. 

I'm not angry. I'm not bitter. I'm just noticing things. One thing I've noticed a lot lately, and that the mentally ill are not tolerated by most. So, the next time a person takes their own life, hurts themselves, or lashes out in a way that you don't understand......don't pretend to care. Don't make assumptions, because assumptions are judgement's angry cousins. Don't think twice, think three times.

There's plenty of reasons why people let Death win. Try not to let your attitude, words and actions be any of those reasons.

Adventure, Music, Monsters & Demons

I really want to talk about the good things. 

The new things going on in my life. Things that I’ve been lucky to experience lately. Days like this, days where I can be out and about, around people who inspire me. People who can relate, be aware of my crazy, and still put up with me. People who will go on random little adventures with me. Or, take me on little conquests. Believe me, there are new things. Crazy amazing things.

 Drawing awesome sauce creations, with chalk, a new friend, and ducks.  So many ducks.

Having complete strangers get infected artistically by what we were doing, jumping on the chalk wagon, and talking about music and dream concerts. 

Seeing a guy I knew for about two minutes, booty dance in a pair the shortest shorts I have ever seen.

Lettuce on pizza with no sauce, cheese, or toppings. It was just dough. It tasted like air, but you know what? It didn’t bother me that much, because it was part of the great adventure I was on.  Everything was great, I had fun. 

So, why is it so easy for one of my many demons to take it all away?

The little bastard discretely nibbled and chewed little bites off of my nerves throughout the day. It poked at me, it yelled at me, it made me feel bad about myself. I did my best to ignore it. I needed to just enjoy the adventure. Once the adventure ended, it took it’s final bite, chewed up every positive emotion I managed to hang onto for the day, and spit them out. As if my good mood tasted bad. As if the monster was offended that I was doing a little better. It couldn’t stand that I was happy, it couldn’t just let it go. I’ve known for a while, just how relentless this particular demon is, but it’s slightly more frustrating now.  This one does that. It complicates everything just to make me feel like lashing out. I cannot bring myself to lash out on this demon. No. Instead, I feel the need to lash out on myself. This demon, this ugly, heartless, life restraining monster, it doesn’t make me feel like hurting it. It doesn’t it make me feel like hurting others. It makes me feel like taking a razor blade across my skin, over and over again until I can’t feel feelings anymore. It makes me angry to see my own reflection in the mirror. It makes me feel like if I don’t make it happy, if I don’t just do what it wants, I’m nothing. I’m nothing without it. 

I tried so hard to hang onto the good stuff today. So, damn, hard. Thank God for good thoughts and memories. I will always have this day. Just like I will always have all my other good days. Only now, I’m infuriated with myself, and I’m fighting off the urge to cry my eyes out and scream. I have to think about the good things later, because I’m a pathetic puppet, hanging on strings, dancing for one of my own controlling demons. The fire is all on the inside, and it hurts. Only, I can’t let it out, because if I do, I will destroy myself in one way or another.  I ran from the monster, almost as far as I could go. I thought cutting the strings would be so much easier, but so far, it hasn’t been. I’m really ashamed of myself, I’m supposed to be doing better. My life isn’t just off track….it’s a thousand feet away from track, going in the opposite direction. 

“I don't know where to begin, to make these words take shape,
How to nurture a flame, and raise it to a blaze
That on the clearest night can be seen forever.
I don't know where to begin, or begin again.”

That’s ‘A Fire On a Hill’ by Hands like Houses. Amazing band, amazing song. That part of the song is how I feel like by life right now. I’m supposed to be starting over, and the people around me are helping me with that process. That makes everything slightly better. At least I’m not alone, and I know I’m not alone.  So, it’s very frustrating feeling lonely, because it makes me feel like I’m hurting people. That’s not my intention at all, but all the clutter floating around in my head, it’s getting me all mixed up. I don’t want to give up, I don’t want to go back to the monster. Only, I feel like it will happen, and I can’t even lie, it scares the Hell out of me. 

“Bring me home in a blinding dream
Through the secrets that I have seen
Wash the sorrow from off my skin
And show me how to be whole again”

That’s ‘Castle Of Class’ By Linkin Park. One of my favorites since their album, Hybrid Theory. That’s my favorite part of the song, it was before I even had a reason for it to be my favorite part. Now, I know. I’m craving guidance. I need help, I do. However, in my mind, anybody who tries to guide me, and help me, will just walk away. They will leave angry, they will leave frustrated, and I wouldn’t blame them a bit. 

Anxiety 101

Anxiety is like that mini heart attack you get when you slip on ice. Only, it lasts for a lot longer. Sometimes, it’s consistent, and stays with you for hours. Even days.  Anxiety is a cruel monster. A hybrid of your high school bully, and the ghosts of every insecurity of memories passed. A reminder of your memories from the past, whispering in your ear about things that you shouldn‘t have to think about anymore. It’s almost like having a song stuck in your head, only, the lyrics are repetitive on a disturbing level, and the voices can’t sing well. 

I’ve always been a strong believer that the ‘what if’ questions are a killer. I probably always will be, but I’m also a huge hypocrite. I ask those questions more often than not, and I’m ashamed. Those questions invade my thoughts on a daily basis, and trust me, I wish that I could help that, but I can’t. It always shocks me, how some people think that Anxiety is just something that you can turn off. It’s a real illness, I promise. One that makes itself comfortable inside of your brain. Like a house guest that won’t leave. It sits in the back of your head, forcing you to think about things that most people don’t. Mostly, those ‘what if’ questions, and irrational fears. Like, one of my irrational fears keeps me from ice skating. I’m afraid that if I fall, somebody will skate over my hands, and cut my fingers off. Yes, I’m totally aware of that would most likely never happen, but I haven’t ice skated since I was about ten years old. Another one is, that I’ll swallow a quarter the flat way, and it will cut off my air. It’s so ridiculous, because I would never put a quarter in my mouth. Why would I need to? I know that, yet I still have that fear. See, and it all because, one of my sweet little demons, went to a forbidden spot in my brain, and pushed my panic button. The good news is, I’m aware that those fears don’t make much sense. Also, I’d rather skate on a board than the ice, and snacking on currency isn’t my thing. 

When you have this problem, mixed with some others, being alive becomes a challenge. It takes everything out of place. Like, the past is in present, the present isn’t really happening, and the future isn’t there. It’s not easy to function with that. It effects everything you do, say, or think about. People you spend time around will eventually stop giving you the time of day. Mainly because,  they can’t handle your crazy. Which is understandable I guess, some people just can’t handle things. Only, when it angers people, that’s when I can’t help but wish I had a giant turtle shell to hide in. I say sorry for a lot of things, on a daily basis. It’s a coping thing. So when people yell at me for that, or yell at me in general, I shut down. Tough love isn’t useful in my mind. More often than not, reassurance that I’m fine is pretty effective. I don’t know if that’s just me, but I feel like others with the same issues probably feel the same way.  

When I was out the other night, I wanted to crawl out of my skin for a little while. It was on and off the entire time I was out. Only, lucky for me and my nerves, I was with people that made me comfortable. When that’s the case, being in public doesn’t hurt so much. Being alive doesn’t feel so wrong. 

I don’t know, I’m ending this on a weird spot, because go figure….I’m anxious.

Just a small town girl, living inside of her head.

If only rooms with padded walls looked like dreams. It wouldn't be so bad, right? I've heard depression described as drowning, but never dying. That makes more sense to me than it should, it's so accurate. I've always liked to swim, so it seems like I wouldn't mind being suspended in a body of water, for a long period of time. However, I have to admit, twenty some odd years is a long time to be swimming. I know, it's not really water. Instead of my lungs filling with water, it's doubt, shame, anxiety and last but not least, all my lovely little demons. The angry little monsters that reside inside of my head, reminding me on a daily basis that life doesn't need me. It feels like they're dancing on my cerebrum, and oh my God, I don't think I have ever once used that word before. Anyways, if I'm right, that's the part of the brain that controls memory. 

My memories come and go pretty frequently, it's very frustrating. When lost memories come back, it's aggressive. Like being punched in the brain with a fist full of fuck you. Excuse my language, but that's what it feels like. It's all part of the emotional roller coaster that is post traumatic stress. Incase you're wondering, there's no height requirement for this ride, and you will vomit. 
Every day is worse than the last. It's not the company I keep, because I'm not anywhere near the people that chewed me up and spit me out. It's not my environment, I'm not in the wonderful world of Western New York anymore. Don't take that seriously, because I took the word wonderful, and dipped it in a huge glass of sarcasm. I guess I'm just done. The things I was good at, the things that used to save me from myself, they're a thing of the past now. My camera used to be my best friend, but I am no longer able to do any favors for the art of photography.  

Writing was always a good outlet. Obviously, it still can be at times. I have this blog. Sadly, it's all that remains. Song lyrics, poems, screenplays, I stopped all of it. It felt like I was ruining something. It was the same feeling with my acting, and my music. I actually think I remember when I decided to kill my music. I was in the middle of writing lyrics, and they mentioned something about playing my veins like violin strings, with a razor blade. Super morbid, I know. I wouldn't recommend having a self harm addiction to my worst enemy. It's like having your demons on the outside. Anyways, I remember looking at those words, and wanting to cry. I probably did, because it had nothing to do with the rest of the song. It was just a random damn thought that I had, and it was scary. So yes, I'm a coward and I ran away from my own music. 

I'm an artistic disaster for sure, I've claimed that proudly for a long time. Only, you can be an artist and suck really badly at it. Turns out my photos are super generic, and my writing is that of a twelve year olds. Luckily, the person that pointed that out hates my blog. Their eyes are saved from this entry, yay! I didn't plan on updating, but I needed something to do. I am antsy, I can't sleep, and the demons are having a dance party in my head. Their music must have lots of bass, because my head hurts so bad, that I can't see straight. That's my cue I suppose. 

Smile, you're on fake face camera! ☻

"You obviously don't suffer much from your mental illness since you smile in photos all the time."

I didn't know how to respond when that comment was made, so I just apologized. The more I thought about it, the more confused I got. Are people with demons supposed to wear a sign? I mean, I've got them. I thought the scars all over my arms made that pretty clear. I'm not mad at the comment, it just doesn't make sense to me. 

A smile is like a blanket, it covers things that you don't want exposed. Regardless of what it is. In my case, more often than not, my smile covers the fact that I have absolutely no idea what's going on around me. I'll just be honest, there are boxes of dirt smarter then I am. That combined with me being stuck in my own head all time distracts me from everything. I'm happy that I can't see my own face when people are talking to about things. I probably look so damn clueless. That's how my demons work. If their not running around my brain, they're throwing confetti made out of anxiety and self hatred. 

People wear all sorts of masks. Some people frown all the time. Others are just neutral. I chose the smile mask because when my facial expression matches how I feel, it tends to piss people off. I don't like putting people in moods like that, it's mean. 

I guess the main reason why I'm so confused by the comment is the meaning. If you really think that a person doesn't have issues just because they have happiness plastered across their face....please think again. There's a saying for this situation. 

"I laugh to keep from crying."

There you go. It's weird, it seems like people think depression can be switched on and off. Hey, if you have the ability to do that, I am sincerely impressed. Just know, not all of us have that luxury. I'm saying that there aren't real smiles. Some are genuinely there for a positive reason. 

As for the smiling in pictures thing, I don't always do it. Typically, when I choose not to smile, people get negative about it. But I was a photographer, which is a form of art and expression. There's a reason why there is something Emotive Photography. So whether or not a person is smiling in a photo or not, maybe they're just trying to express something. 

I guess you can't please everybody, but right now, I feel like removing my mouth and putting it in my pocket.

Dreams, Nightmares & Music ♫

When a person thinks of life as a whole, the possibilities are endless. Endless in a way that seems almost impossible, positive and negative thoughts alike. 

Life scares me a little more then death, I have to admit that. When I think of my life as it stands for me right now, I shut down. Not because of how defeated I feel, or because of how much pain I'm in. It's because there are so many different thoughts running through my head on a daily basis. Way too many, and not only does it make my head hurt, it makes it spin. 

It's like being stuck on the flying swings at an amusement park. Spinning round and round, trapped in between up above and down below. Going absolutely nowhere. While you're on the cycle, you can hear everything going on around you, but you can't hear it clearly. You can see things in the distance, but you can't really figure out what they are, because you're not still long enough to see it clearly. You wish more than anything you could hold somebody's hand, but all the hands available are out of reach. So close, yet just far enough away, that is mocks the comfort you're desperate to feel.

My life is just so surreal to me at this point. Sometimes it feels like one long dream, other times, a never ending nightmare. There are even times I have to laugh, because it feels like a practical joke that won’t end. It's ironic really, because it shouldn't be funny. I guess me laughing about it is more out of frustration than it is humor. The demons I hear in my head on a daily basis are constantly whispering in my ears about how the good memories will fade. I try so hard to hold onto those, and the memories that have impacted my life in good ways. Memories involving music, love, and beauty. Friends, bonds with people, and just overall happiness. It's so hard to hold onto, because the whispers about the bad things get louder and louder every single day. Some of the thoughts in my head are terrifying. I can't even begin to explain the feeling I get when I'm just sitting, and thinking, and scary thoughts start eating away at me, and they don't let up. Thoughts about people I love getting hurt in these horrible ways. Thoughts about what people that dislike me would do to me. I think about things that I have seen, things that I might see. Things that I probably never will see, but still I can't get the images out of mind. It just makes me wish that I could go numb for years at a time. Or even forever. There are times when I wake up, and get upset. I get angry, and frustrated that I woke up at all. I lay there, and I cry. It's become somewhat of a routine. To most people, that probably sounds like such a sad and pathetic fact. To me, it's just confusing. I think the amount of hatred I have for myself has a lot to do with it. Mostly, it's the desire I have to sleep and just be gone for a while. I don't miss the nightmares, reoccurring or not. The night terrors, I would gladly wave goodbye to. The dreams....oh my God, the dreams, they don't happen often enough. When they do, I get lost them. It's almost like getting lost in a song. I cry more when I wake up from something like that, it's hard not to. It's damn near impossible for me. I also cry more when I go to sleep knowing that I won't wake up, and I do. It breaks my heart in a way that I don't even think I can explain. Especially when one of the good dreams is floating around inside my head. 

There's a song called 'The Neighbourhood' by Female Robbery, great song. The lyrics just make so much sense to me, but listening to it is like being inside of a deep sleep. It's not a dream, but it's not a nightmare. It's a bittersweet universe to be in. Confusion plays a major part with how you feel, and it's almost like you're learning all these secrets about yourself and about life, but you can't tell anybody. Not just because it's a secret, but because you don't think anybody could possibly ever understand what you're trying to explain. I don't think that's what the lyrics are attempting to get across, that's just the scenario that runs through my head when I hear that song. 

Then, there are songs like 'Last Hope' by Paramore. It's so real, the lyrics are like a person in your life that understands how you feel, and knows what to say. It's beautiful, songs like that are kind of rare, and its shame that more people don't seek them out. It gives you peace of mind for five minutes. Or, five minutes and ten seconds if we're being specific. 

♫"Every night I try my best to dream, tomorrow makes it better. Then I wake up the cold reality that not a thing has changed."♫

That is my favorite part of the song, it's just true, and they are words that I can relate to so quickly. 

Life without music would be truly tragic. Even if it never existed and we wouldn't know anything different, I think I’d still know. I think there would be a noticeable void in my own existence. I know I wouldn't be alive today without the gift of music, that's a fact for sure. Some people relate to animals better. Even nature, and objects, much better then they relate to other people. I think music is that thing for me. I get that it's created by people, and that it exists because of people. Only, the songs themselves, the lyrics, the voices, all turn it into something much different. Something much more significant. All I know is that, I'm hanging on by very few threads these days. I'm almost sure that the demons will end up taking me out before anything else does. Those threads, they're music, and that's something I trust more than anything. I know some people might think it's sad that I trust music more than anything or anybody else, but it's the truth. I think it's beautiful, and I always will. Even if I don't live to see next year, I had something beautiful to hang onto up until the very end. That means the world to me, and I couldn't ask to go out on a note anymore perfect than that.