Purpose & Villains

When you are the human version of the headache, life can get pretty tedious. Especially when you wake up every morning knowing that that's what you are. When you have little monsters in your head, and they spend every waking minute bullying you, life becomes oppressive. That's morbid, I know but it's what's real. Changing it stopped being  an option a long time ago. People will say things. They do say things.

"You're crazy."

"Stop being so depressed."

"You need help."

It's true, I do need help, however, I am beyond it. I accept that, because I'm trapped inside of my own head. Imagine being punched from the inside of your skull. Not that I would wish that on anybody, I apologize. Explaination isn't really my strong suite anymore. I guess, I really just hate what I'm turning into. Once again, I'm looking to my best friend, Music. I can always rely on that to help me explain.

"As the war between light and darkness continues,

Heroes and villains become harder to identify.

Kindred spirits separated at birth,

Fighting for their place in time to be solidified.

The clock ticks faster and faster,

While time runs a marathon in this Babylon.

But see, the end is only the beginning.

The beginning of the calm before the storm."

That's from a song by B.O.B and it's called "Bombs Away." That part is spoken by Morgan Freeman, and for good reason, his voice sounds like gold in vocal form. Anyways, my favorite part of that whole statement is "Heroes and villains become harder to identify." No, we don't live inside of a comic book, or a movie, but heroes and villains are real. It hard to tell who the good and bad guys are anymore. There are more villains than there are heroes, and that breaks my heart. Not just because they're the bad people, but because things happened to them that made them that way. I think I'm on the verge of becoming one of those people. I don't like it, or accept it, I don't want to hurt anybody, and that's what I'm doing simply by existing. I've said it before, I'll say it again, I would gladly give up my spot for somebody with a purpose.
  
I recently attended my ten year class reunion. Talk about a group of people with purpose. I was dreading it, I struggled with the thought of going, pretty much up until the day before. Now, I talk about bitter-sweetness all the time, I can't help it. It's an aspect of my life that I take very seriously. I love the feeling of being able to acknowledge the best and worst of both worlds. Going to this reunion was probably one of the more major bittersweet moments I've had in a long time. Just, not for the reasons most people would assume. See, I believe that we're apart of a very complicated generation. Things change all of the time, it's a part of life. In my opinion, our generation has dealt with a huge amount of changes. The older we all get, the more changes there are. This is part of why I thought going to this reunion wouldn't be a positive experience. I was scared, and I feel like I was most likely not the only one that was scared. I was an outcast growing up, I still am to this day. So, my preconception of the whole event, was that I'd be standing alone in a corner. 

I was wrong.

I'm wrong more often than not, I'll admit that, no problem. From the minute I walked through the door, everything was alright. As a person that deals with severe anxiety, I expected to freak out from the very beginning. I didn't, I was able to be social because people were being social with me, and there was alcohol around. I made the mistake of underestimating everybody, and I apologize for that. It was so beautiful seeing everybody, even the people that I didn't really interact with. I'm actually really proud to be able to say that I was part of a class full of people doing great things with their lives. Nobody had to pull a "Romy and Michelle" people are successful, hard working, and productive. That makes me happy, but it also proves my point. I listen to people talk about there careers, spouses and adventures. In the back of mind, all I can think about is the fact that I'm an utterly useless human being. I didn't deserve to be at that reunion. It's the same kind of feeling when I'm at birthday parties for kids. I'm not always the only person without any kids at those parties, but I might as well be. People often get confused when I tell them that I feel like I don't have a family. I get the confusion but I have a hard enough time understanding the situation myself. I won't dare try to paint a picture, the colors would run together. 

There's been so much in my life that I love. Beautiful people and beautiful things, that always make me smile. With beauty comes ugliness. Ugliness brings pain, and suffering. Pain brings demons that sit inside of your head and terrorize you. In my eyes, that's part of what makes a villain a villain.

I will not be a villain.

Bittersweet Little Gifts & The Desire To Leave This World

Being hugged by somebody who actually thinks you're worth something, is pure magic. Especially when you know that you're not worth anything. I have to admit, knowing that I'm an utterly useless human being is bittersweet. Bitter, because I seem to be in the way a lot. More often than not, I'm taking up space, or holding somebody back. I don't have the right to do that, especially not to people who have actual purpose. The sweet part is, when I'm not here anymore, it frees up a spot for somebody better. Somebody that is actually worth something. That makes me feel pretty elated. For the longest time now, I've felt that my existence is unfair. Not to me, but to other people. It's my belief that I was never supposed to be here. Some people disagree with that, but it's what I think, and it's how I feel. I get genuinely confused when I wake up in the morning, it just hurts my feelings now. Not all lives are a joke, I respect people's sense of resolve. I think my life is a joke though, and the punchline just never comes. When it does, I don't know if I'll laugh or cry, maybe I'll do both. Maybe my reaction will be painfully neutral. I have a few different horrifying reoccurring nightmares. Dreams as well, but more nightmares than dreams. Waking up every morning feels like one of those. I know what some people say.

"Life is a gift, and should be appreciated."

I don't entirely disagree with that, but I just don't believe that my life is a gift. I wish I did, but it just doesn't feel that way to me. I believe certain parts of my life are gifts. Like, fireworks. They turn me into goo. I remember, I used to think that after fireworks went off....they turned into the stars. I wish that I still believed that. Naivety saves my heart, I wish I was still naive to lot of things. Fireworks are tiny exploding miracles, and even though they don't turn into the stars, they're still a gift. On the other hand, my life as a whole is not. This world, where we all exist, is filling with Evil. Pure evil and poison.  There's starving people everywhere, but somebody's pissed off that my skin is the color a milk chocolate. People are getting away with disgusting things like, abuse, rape and murder. Yet, people are pissed off because a man wants to kiss another man, or a woman wants to marry another woman. There seems to be terrorists everywhere. What is it about humans that makes other humans want to terrorize them? I don't understand it, and I'm not really sure that I want to understand it. Hatred is fueling everybody now. It's like the majority of people in this world forgot how to love. Treating people nicely, and with respect has somehow become turned into something else. People make it seem like it's the wrong thing to do. That's super sad, it breaks my heart. Everybody is stressed, and taking it out on each other. People are so enthralled with social media that they forget about actual communication. It's all so frustrating, and being trapped within this chaos is only doing more damage to my very fragile existence. There's so much more about this world that breaks my heart, but I don't have to name every single little thing. I trust that some people see the same evil that I do. 

I honestly just wish that people could or would pay more attention to the good things. There are beaches covered with pink sand. There are beaches covered in black sand. Can you imagine how amazing it would be to see that? I know it would bring me so much peace. If I had the chance to lay on a beach with sand those colors, I could die with the biggest smile on my face. I would burn Fiesta Lime incense and play music by Tom Day. I could get lost in that forever. That's just me, I know that, but it's a picture I've painted inside of my mind. I wished more people did that, and if they do, I hope they share it with me. I'd like to know about pictures people paint in their minds. Even if that's just a far off dream, it's one of the good things I think about all the time. Even knowing that it will never happen, the thought is enough to make me smile for a few minutes on my worst day. I get so worried about people in my life. People that I know are worth so much, but are sad. I used to be able to make people happy. Being a good friend means so much to me, but I no longer have the ability to make people feel better. I can't make people happy anymore. My issues are in the way, my head is broken, my thoughts are dark and scary, and my spirit is dying. My spirit is sick, and suffering, and has been for the longest time. There's this song called "Little Black Cloud" by Crazy Town. That's the same band that had the one hit wonder, "Butterfly." The chorus was simple, bu the lyrics always appealed to me.

♫"I got a little black cloud that follows me, everywhere I go, it takes over me."♫

That song came out in 1999, and I still listen to it to this day. There are times when I feel like I have that cloud over me. Other times, I feel like I am that cloud. People always say things like "You're in control of your own happiness." Fine. If that's what your opinion is, than fine. Only, that isn't always true. People with mental health problems don't always have the option of being in control. We have demons, and they tell us how to feel, they tell us how to think. They control our actions, our words, and our thoughts. I don't think that people understand that those demons, they make their existence known every day. They don't just talk to us, they yell, they scream and they rampage. They're little monsters with more power than you'd think. So, no. I don't believe everybody has control over their happiness. Yes, you can cut people and certain  unhappiness from your own life, you can try your hardest to protect yourself. Only, the consequences always seem to be bad. If you cut a person from your life, you're a "bad friend." You're the "enemy", and "how dare you." I've been cut from many people's lives, but I understand why, and I don't blame people for it. But, not everybody does understand. It hurts to be cut out, it does. It's a hurtful part of life that some people just don't get over. To me, that's part of "being in control of your happiness" but it's so negative. It doesn't seem like it should be apart of happiness. Maybe that only makes sense to me. It might, because I struggle to put my words together most of the time. If only people knew how long it takes me to write just one entry for this blog. 

♫"Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money.

We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money.

Used to play pretend, give each other different names, we would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away.

Used to dream of outer space, but now they're laughing at our face saying "wake up, you need to make money", yeah."♫

I love Twenty-One Pilots. Their music brings me so much peace, the lyrics are perfect. They say it just how it is. One day, you wake up, and you need to make money. Only it's not that simple. I'm an artist, and that doesn't always promise money. So, you go and try to find a job to save money for things that you're passionate about. Only, you have a last name that intimidates people. You look a certain way, and it puts people off. So you spend years trying to get a "normal" job, yet nobody will give you a chance based on these petty little things. People say "You can't give up, just keep trying." That's not a bad thing, but some of us reach a certain point. You get to this point where, you cannot take anymore rejection. Hearing that you're not good enough gets old after a while. You start to believe it, and then trying just becomes pointless. The constant rejection gets painful. You might as well stand in front of a person and say "You suck, we don't want you, and you aren't good enough" over and over and over again. It's like being punched in the throat repeatedly. They don't understand what they're doing to you. They don't understand, and most of the time they don't care. People in this world who hold positions of power, usually abuse that power. Those of us who are never given a chance, because it's already decided that we will fail, that pretty much means that we're screwed. I'd rather go back and play pretend. 

♫Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young.

How come I'm never able to identify where it's coming from.

I'd make a candle out of it if I ever found it.♫

Those lyrics are from the same song. I should mention, the song is called "Stressed Out." Even the damn title is perfect! This song is everything to me. I know you know what they're talking about. You're minding your own business, a smell hits you, and suddenly you are six years old again. It makes you smile for a minute, but you cannot figure out what it is. It's another one of those bittersweet little moments. I count that as a gift in life. 

Even with all the little gifts like, music, amazing smells, and thought of brightly colored beaches, I'm just so tired. I want the little things to be enough, I do. They aren't, and at this point I feel like no matter what I do, it will end with me in tears, and the world once again be laughing at me. I don't feel like anybody wants me around. People can tell me until they're purple faced that they do. My monsters won't let me believe them. People do tell me I'm not wanted, and they make me feel unsafe. They know that I feel scared, I won't let the world know that they're bullies. I like people too fast, I love and care about people too fast. Too much. So much, that it makes me seem creepy and weird. That's what being friendly is these days. It makes you a weirdo. Being loving is considered a bad thing. Being sensitive and crying a lot makes you weak. That's what I see, and I just don't want to see it anymore. All I hear is hatred, and pain. Not just my own, but other people's and it hurts me. My head is a scary place to be, and there isn't anything I can do to fix it. Some people are beyond help, some people can't be helped. The world's solution to "fixing" people like me, is drugging you up, and strapping you down. To me, it's cruel and unusual. To strap a person down who just wants to escape in the first place. It seems like being kicked while you're down. I understand why it's done that way, but I don't like it. I just want to step aside, I wish I could give my life to somebody else. Somebody that would do something useful with the time. Like, seriously, take my life, do something better than I will ever be able to do. I have faith you. 

The next time you see somebody that you think is worth something, hug them as if their life depends on it. 

West Coast Bound then Broken

West Coast Bound & Broken

Thoughts throughout my recent vacation to California. 

April 28, 2015, 1:10 AM -

♫ - "No Parallels" by: Hands Like Houses

The train literally just pulled out of the station, and I already feel less stressed out and crazy. I'm almost crying tears of pure joy at the thought of getting away. I'm a walking emotional ball of feelings in general, so I'll probably end up crying eventually. That doesn't matter, I'm going to a place that brings out genuine happiness from within me. I can remove the mask, and smile for real. There are some people in my life that would be blown away by the difference in my behavior when I'm away from Western New York. People don't believe me, but the West Coast makes everything better in my eyes. This is part of the reason why I believe that environment makes all the difference in the world. Not for everybody, but we're all different in our own way. Even when there's a person that's grown up and lived in the same area for most of their life, and moved.

Multiple times. 

At this point, I wouldn't care if I didn't get to stay west coast, the train ride is so peaceful for me, and I love it. I could go all the way there and get right back on the train and feel rejuvenated. I'm not stuck in a place that makes me feel broken, and I'm not up in a giant flying coffin thousands of feet in the air. I'm on a tiny vacation that moves, and I feel better than I have in a very long time. I can't wait to wake up, and be somewhere else. I would say somewhere new, but I've been on this adventure before. Either way, I hope I can wake up and smile. Like an actual, genuine smile, not the fake one I use on a daily basis to make others less uncomfortable. 

April 30th, 2015, 8:10 AM -

♫ - "The Edge of Tonight" by: All Time Low

It's a bittersweet thing that I am actually in LA right now. Bitter because plans fell apart during the ride here, plans that meant a lot to me. It's become clear that certain people in my life, on this coast, mean more to me than I mean to them. That's part of my life, and it defines my friendships with most people. I can't lie, it always and forever will hurt my feelings. However, it doesn't hurt any less when I figure that out about another friend. The sweet part is I'm here, and I'm looking at Palm trees. Getting off of the train was slightly discomforting. It was time, that's for sure, but I don't think I was entirely ready. Not because I wasn't ready to be here, but because I sincerely love being on the train. It makes me feel oddly free, it's almost euphoric. As for actually physically being on this coast, it's absolutely freaking perfect. I can breathe, I can think straight, I am home. I don't feel anxious, I don't feel shaky, or like I need a drink. I'm where I belong. It's temporary. Painfully temporary but, I won't think about that now. 

May 4th, 2015, 6:34 PM -

♫ - "Jesus Christ" by: Brand New

I feel sick. My trip is ending so much earlier than it was supposed to. I understand that's how it happens to be, there isn't anything I can do about it. However, I strongly dislike it. Every single one of my demons were out of my head this whole time. It feels like the further away from Western New York I went, more and more of those demons jumped out along the way. Now that I'm going back, city by city, they'll jump back. By the time I reach the dreaded final destination, the little monsters will be screaming. Filling my head with everything that makes me wish that I was never born. I'm genuinely sorry if that's "dramatic" sounding, or depressing. It's how I feel, but most people don't take others feelings into account. I'm not just talking about my feelings alone, I mean people's feelings in general. I see it more and more these days. More often than not, I see and  hear of people's feelings being disregarded, chewed up, and pushed away.

Forgotten.

Ripped apart.

Judged unfairly and criticized.

There are people that tell me the negative things that others say about me. The most popular has been that I'm  too depressing to be around. I've heard that a lot, and it's hard. I totally understand why that opinion of me that exists. The hardest part of that is that it's somewhat true. I suffer with depression, that means I'll be depressed at times. I suffer from severe anxiety, that means I'm anxious, both mentally and physically. I have post traumatic stress, that means so many different things. My health, mentally and physically continues to get worse. It seems my mask doesn't cover as much as I thought it did. It would be mostly wishful thinking if I thought I could make the mask bigger and stronger before I get back. 

May 10th, 2015, 5:12 AM - 

♫ - "Car Radio" by: twenty one pilots

I had a weird....episode in my sleep a couple nights ago. I say episode, because I'm not sure if it was a dream or a nightmare. It was so damn bittersweet, that it's mildly frustrating even now. 

I was sitting in an empty bathtub, fully clothed. One of those really deep tubs, and it was placed in he middle of a forest that was nothing but trees with pink flower petals. I was in love with what I was seeing, it was beautiful. I could hear wind, birds chirping, and the air even smelled sweet. Suddenly, I was being pulled backwards, under water, that wasn't there literally a second before. Somebody is holding my shoulders down. I didn't struggle, I didn't want to make the process any longer. I get this weird feeling of euphoria, and just as I think it's almost over, I'm pulled up. Only, the environment is different. Everything is just gray. A dark gray color. Like nothingness. Gray and quiet nothingness, for miles and beyond that. The silence was deafening, and I felt colorblind. I tried going under the water, but it was gone just as quick as it had appeared. The tub was empty again, and I was alone in the middle nothing. 

It could have meant a few different things. It might not have meant anything at all. My best guess is that it has a lot to do with me being back here again. Environment can effect us so much more than people believe. This place sucks the life right out of me. I'm happy that it doesn't happen to other people. Friends that like it here. Even people I'm not friends with, I wouldn't wish feeling this way on my worst enemy. 

Feeling alone, even when you're with people. 

Having a constant thought in the back of your mind telling you that you're better off dead, or never having been born. 

Feeling like your mere existence bothers every single person that you ever have contact with.  

The constant need to hurt yourself, for ether control, or punishment. 

The moment I stepped foot off of the train, it all came flooding back. I know it sounds impossible, but it was physically painful. It was like waking into a brick wall. In two weeks, I went from being an utterly useless human being, to feeling like my life had a purpose, and back again. I just wish that there was a way for me to feel like "West Coast Me" while I was here. I've tried, I have but it just doesn't work. Sometimes, life can be like going to be movies. All the good parts, were in the trailer. It's weird, today I am exactly twenty eight years, and five months old. I feel just as dead on the inside as I did when I turned twenty eight. Hopefully, someday, California will revive me again. 

Bittersweet Bitterness For The New Year

It's weird that it's 2015, it doesn't seem real to me. I kind of wish it wasn't. I didn't think I would make it until 2015, I didn't want to either. 

The path my thoughts have taken, lead them to a very unnerving, alluring place. I'm not really sure what to call it, but I sincerely hope nobody else has a place like this lingering inside of their heads. It's toxic, evil, and addictive. Beautiful too, and that's what's so confusing, I can't talk about it without saying good things. 

Let me see if I can paint the picture a little better. Imagine being terrified of the dark, and being trapped in very dark woods. Only, your favorite music is playing, or it smells absolutely amazing, and you're warm and cozy. You can see a light in the distance, and you know you can get there. Only, with that light comes some of the worst things you've ever had to deal with in your life. Things that destroy you, things that you should probably try your very hardest to avoid. That may not be clear to most people, but it's the best way I'm able to describe it right now. Inside of my head, is a major cluster fuck, so when I do attempt to explain things, I don't blame people for loosing interest. Or, looking at me like I should never open my mouth again.

I was honestly under the impression that my thoughts, and demons would kill me before the new year. I was, and I didn't care. When you wake up every morning, and get upset because you woke up at all, to me, that means life is hurting you. Life requires strength in the same way that pain demands to be felt. I'm not a strong person. I think that I might have been a long time ago, but I'm broken now. I am a broken person, and it's not even a secret anymore. Everybody knows, and it's not really important at this point. I try my hardest to just smile my way though things, because my anxiety, depression, and other issues just make people uncomfortable. Which makes me uncomfortable, so it's just a vicious circle of unnecessary discomfort. Sometimes, it comes out, and I cry in public because my anxiety gets out of control. I really wish that never happened, because I know it annoys everybody. It's not healthy to keep it inside, I know that. It's part of why I'm so messed up in the first place. That's what happens when certain people have a toxic bubble of mental illness growing inside. It gets bigger and bigger until it explodes. After, it just starts filling back up again. With the old things, and new things. It's no way to live, at least not for me. That's why the new year is weighing on me the way it is, because I really didn't count on making it this far. 

I feel so bad for people that have to deal with anxiety, and depression. Especially people who are surrounded by others telling them that the illness they suffer from isn't real. It upsets me so much when people dumb mental illness down to the point where they might as well just say that it's not real. People do just straight out say that it's not real, I've heard it. I've talked about this before, and I'll always get defensive about it,for as long as I'm alive. Mainly because I'm tired of seeing other people that suffer from the same things that I do, get told that they need to cheer up and stop being so sad. Depression is not just sadness, and anxiety is not just indecision. So, no, telling an anxious person to "calm down" isn't going to fix them. In fact, saying that may only make it worse. Hearing those words, when you're having an attack puts a lot of pressure on, and it sucks. It's almost like you're expected to just press a button and shut it off. So, when you have pressure of that thought thrown at you when you're already having an internal nervous break down, it's absolutely devastating. That's like sticking your hand in a fire, and expecting it not to hurt. 

I'm trapped in a place where I don't belong. It's where I grew up, but I never really belonged. I'm what I like to call a "Walking Black Joke". There isn't very much diversity here. So, for as long as I can remember, I've just been labeled as "The Black One".....and it never used to bother me. I didn't know anything different, I didn't really understand. Now more than ever, I understand, and I wish that I would have just stayed naive. I realize now that, that's all there is to me around here. I let people say the things they say, and I play along with it. The truth is, if I didn't, most people would just stop talking to me. I have enough problems in my life that make people want to keep their distance from me. I don't want to add something else to the list. I grew up in a white community, a very small one. Not that I think anybody will really understand this, but....I'm not accepted by other African American people, because of how I grew up. On top of that, I'm not accepted by Caucasian people, because of the color of my skin. I'm not accepted by a lot of people in general, because of my lifestyle, and personality. It's a Hell that I hope nobody else has to be trapped in. So, that brings one question to the surface. 

Where will I ever be accepted? 

Nowhere. 

That hurts me, but I know it's the truth. I'm not taken at all seriously by most people, which is whatever at this point. So being a walking joke, it's really not that big a deal right now. It is part of what makes my anxiety and depression so bad, but it is what it is. It's too late to change it. I'm not saying that's the main reason I have the problems that I do, because there's just no way that's the case. It was childhood, it was growing up, it was a lot of things, and it was a mess. There's this quote I know, I honestly have no idea where it's from, but I like it. 

"Childhood is like being drunk. Everyone remembers what you did, except you."

It's perfect. I couldn't have worded it any better if I tried. I'm sure that applies to so many different people. Honestly, I think it's a very bittersweet statement. A very true, very clear fact, that may or may not be relevant to how people feel. In my opinion, it's on point. Being back where I grew up, it's just a huge mistake, but there really isn't anything I can do about it. Some might argue that for many reasons, one being that since I keep ending up back here, mean that I do belong somewhere. I don't agree with that. I understand why people would have that opinion, I do. Only, that's really not the case. It's not just me, I'm not the only one that feels trapped by this place. I can see it in other's people's eyes. I can see that they wish they had left, and had a different life. I can see the pain they're in, I can see how angry they are at themselves for getting stuck. I really feel for those people, because I know how much it hurts. I know that it's not easy to have passion in your heart directed towards things that aren't possible in a place like this. It's not comfortable, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. 

Now I'm a year older, and it just makes me sick. Happy 28th Birthday, I am dead on the inside.