Where are my Crayons....

It's super crazy how certain things can escalate in life. Sometimes, changes happen so quickly that you don't notice until it's too late. I think that's a bittersweet aspect of life. People think that just because they grow up, and become adults, that they drop habits they had as kids. That's probably true for some people, but not everybody. I think what happens, is that sometimes little habits just slowly turn into other things.

When I was younger, I think around age ten or so, I used to melt crayons onto my arms. I thought it was just because I liked how the colors looked on my skin. The way it felt, I didn't necessarily hate it, but it made me feel better when I did that. Now, I started doing that again, recently. Just as a random artistic thing to do. Only, I was wrong about why I was doing it before. I realized that, me doing that when I was younger, was where my self harm issue probably started. I mean, it doesn't hurt a lot by any means, but the slight burn is enough when you're ten years old. It started with the crayon melting, and unfortunately, it's escalated into a few other things. It's just so crazy to me that it never really went away. Clearly, my brain is wired wrong, because there will never be a time in what's left of my life, where I won't be hurting myself. Clearly, I'm wired wrong, because I don't see society and people in the same way that most people do. I've never felt right, I've always felt wrong, like there's a lot wrong with me. I can't be fixed, I'm beyond any kind of help. Most people would find that upsetting, and it's understandable. Me, I don't find it upsetting. It's just a sad but true fact. I was never meant to be alive. 

Contrary to popular belief, I don't really try to encourage the feelings that I have. At least not towards other people that are in my position. That makes me a huge hypocrite, I know. Honestly, it just breaks my heart knowing that other people have to feel like this. It's a pain so evil, that it controls every aspect of your life. In my experience, society seeks weaker people out. People see our tears, our scars, and insecurities, and use them to take us out. Sounds like I'm being dramatic, only I'm not. I've just been on this low level for such a long time. I wanted to help other people with these problems, I wanted to teach people how to survive. Well, the truth is....I can't help anybody because it turns out I don't know how to survive. Since I can't be helped, I have no right to try and guide others. It wouldn't be fair at all. Me not being in people's lives seems fair, and it makes more sense. I think it's important to be able to forgive yourself for the years that mental illness took away from your life. I can't forgive myself for that. 

Being strong enough to survive in our society today is so important. Sure, things seem to be changing for the better. It appears that minds are opening and acceptance is spreading. That makes me smile, I love that the world is changing. But, it's still way too scary. One of most terrifying things in this world is that you never know what somebody's true intentions are. I'm finding out the hard way, over and over again that more often than not, people's intentions are bad. Being a nice, friendly person means that your clingy and creepy. Trying to help, means you're being invasive and nosy. Backing away and staying and avoiding drama, makes you insensitive and bitchy. Being an emotional person that wants to talk things out, means that you're a weak baby, that needs to suck things up. If you don't like to be laughed at, or insulted, you're taking things too seriously, and need to lighten up. There is no winning, it's a mess. None of that is worth the pain of having people hate you for being who you are. 

I think that I'm being tortured by my own mind. Society, along with humanity, test me day by day, and I'm failing. Tested by the world, tortured by my own mental illness. It's just not a way to live. I wish that I could say, going back to being ten years old would make it better. I wish melting crayons on myself was enough. The truth is, I've escalated. I'm too far gone, and there is clearly no coming back.

Socially Acceptable Disease

♫ Disease by: Hollywood Undead ♫

Society today is blows my mind, and breaks my heart at the same time. At least, in my eyes, it seems to be more than some people are able to handle. Some of the behavior that I see from people that's become socially acceptable in this time, makes me feel like breaking down and crying tears of pure sadness for the world that we live in. It effects me that much. I'm sure if I was a stronger person, it wouldn't hit me so hard, but strength isn't really part of who I am anymore. I honestly don't even know who I am anymore.

Strength is a very tricky thing. It's a little funny to me, because it seems like most people only see it as a physical thing. It's so much more than that though. Strength is part of a persons mentality as well. If you lack it, you're considered to be "too sensitive" and that kills me. It's true, we're all human beings, but each of us is different in our own way. Some of us aren't as strong as others appear to be. Some of us believe that it's easier to bleed our problems out, than to talk about them. Some of us aren't capable enough to live like others. Some of us see beauty in things that most people don't. Even if that beauty is in death. Even if that beauty lays within something that most people view as ugly, or too different for their taste. Everybody is entitled to their own opinion. Everybody is entitled to feel how they want to feel. Only, these days, through my eyes, most people are taking the negative side. Difference is "bad" and "normal" is good. Only, the "normal" part is what makes me want to go to sleep, and never wake up. It's socially acceptable to hate difference. Even things that are out of anybody's control. People aren't accepted to be themselves, they can't be themselves without being criticized or judged. That isn't something that I'm able to deal with easily, it makes me sad. It upsets me since I am one of those people, and because I know others that live with that. Every single day. I just think living in a world like this is such a waste. It has it's perks. Beautiful things to see, and amazing music to hear. It used to be enough to keep me safe, but not so much anymore. Nobody is safe anymore. 

I wouldn't raise kids in this world, I absolutely would not. Here's one reason why, and also  something that frustrates me like nothing else. 

"Having balls" supposedly means that you're tough, and the word "pussy"somehow equals weakness. Yet, a slight flick to a man's balls puts him on the ground in the fetal position. Whole human beings come out of vaginas, but having one somehow qualifies as being weak. Yay people and society! I say that with every ounce of sarcasm in my body. I'm sorry, I really am, but that is nonsense to me. Fighting it seems right, but it won't change. Yes, the world has evolved and progressed, but nothing can save some of us. I wake up everyday, wishing that I hadn't. I am in constant pain, physically and mentally. Not that most people would know, I have a mask on most of the time. I'm starting to understand how people in my life really feel about me, and how me being around effects people. Ultimately, I don't really think that I should be in anybody's life. That's not me insulting people and saying that nobody's good enough for me. I'm saying that I'm not good for anybody. I feel like the biggest piece of trash on the planet. It's painful, but probably not as painful as having to put up with me. I love my friends, the real ones and even not so real ones. After years of being naive to people's attitudes towards me, I'm finally starting to see how people really feel. It's not something that I can really deal with. Spending so much time inside of your own head, it does this sometimes. It kind of opens up little rivers inside of your head, only instead of water flowing around, it's everything negative that you're dealing with. It's people's hateful words, it's mistakes you've made, the what if questions. You question every decision you've ever made, and end up wanting to punish yourself for the bad decisions. At least that's what happens with me. Inside of my head is a scary place, and I am very thankful that nobody else has to be there but me. I give people so much credit to people who actually have the strength to survive life. Unfortunately, I'm just not one of those people.

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.

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.