Best Friends

I was supposed to go somewhere today. I was supposed to have fun, enjoy myself.
well, those plans got cancelled and my mood has just kind of plummeted. I just want to go home and spend the rest of the day in my room, on my own.
I won't want to talk to anyone, see anyone. I just want to be alone.
It's times like these where I wish I had a best friend. Someone I could go do crazy things with, hang out with when I needed to get away, laugh with. Someone with whom I could hang out with at a moment's notice, someone to make memories with, someone to just have there.

I know, I know. If I wanted a friend so bad, why did I push away the ones I had? I don't have an answer to that. Sometimes I just think it's impossible for me to have friends. I'm a little like a nomad. I don't feel like I can trust people, or if I do trust them, It's only temporarily.
Usually I don't mind it, but I just get in these moods where I want a best friend.
Where I feel lonely. I know it will pass, but still. I hate it.

I remember my freshman year, when my best friend was A. I met her in study hall. She was strange, in a sense. She wasn't like the "cookie-cutter" freshman, is what I mean. Somehow we got to talking, and I discovered that she was into Wicca, that she had a very defined personality, and that we were both kind of the same. But even if she hates me now, I am still grateful that I met her. She helped me to push my boundaries. She introduced me to new music, new ideas, helped me to step out of my comfort zone a little. That's probably what started my search for myself.
The most definitive memory I have of her and I was in Creative Arts. It was a club that we had at my school, for all things creative. That's where I first started sharing my writing, and discovered other writers. I told her a lot of things and we were great friends, or so I thought. But as I always am, I'm toxic. I ruined our friendship because I was too negative. Or at least that's what she told me right before she told me to never talk to her again. But I didn't think anything of it, not really. It's high school. Shit happens.

My sophomore year, I became best friends with K. I met her through Link Leaders at my school my Freshman year, but we didn't really become friends until my Sophomore year. People used to call me a stoner, because I used to sit by the front wall of my school. Just hang out there. For some reason, I guess I looked like a stoner. Being friends with K was easy. We were easy friends because we were both crazy, we both had the same personalities, and we both liked the same things, but yet we had differences too.
I can't really say that I have a definitive memory of K and I. There were so many. I remember when we went to the Zombie Crawl, and we had a blast. I remember when we used to go to Elitches every day in the summer, just to have fun. I remember all the sleepovers, I remember the break ups, I remember so many things.  But our friendship ended as well. She told me that "She needed reliable people in her life." That's all fine and dandy, but I just didn't understand. I had always thought of myself as reliable, and when I asked other people if they thought so too, they agreed.
For whatever reason, our friendship ended. But I know that it was partly due to me. Friends just aren't my thing.

I had another friend, who I haven't known all that long, but I feel like I have known her for my entire life. I'll call her O. We were like K and I were, only O and I were friends way before that. I'm not exaggerating when I say that she saved my life. When I first started cutting, before my ED, she was there. If I called her at 3 am crying because of a fight with my dad or I thought I couldn't handle life and I wanted to die, she would come over and just sit with me and talk until I felt better. But I guess I saved her life too. She had a bad childhood, as I did. I would do the same for her, willing to be there for her through anything. As with K, I can't pin down a definitive moment in our friendship, but there are many.
I remember the time we were in Costco with her grandma, and while her grandma was checking out, we were dancing in the front of the store just because it was fun. I remember the time she helped me dye my hair purple and blue, and we dyed her hair blonde. I remember how she loved to dye her hair crazy colors. I remember when we used to walk around town after dark, and when we got free hot wings. I remember so many things from our friendship. I think she was the first girl I loved, as in more than a friend. Even though we both had boyfriends at that time. I remember when we went to homecoming, and we were dancing. We did a lot of crazy things that night. Although we had drama, I wouldn't trade her for anything. She is and always will be my best friend, even if we never hang out or talk anymore. I owe her my life, and I'd do anything for her.

But still things change.

For as many problems as I think I have, I never thought that not having a best friend/being lonely would be one of them. Sometimes I just miss my friends, and I miss having someone there. You know? I don't really ever connect with people anymore. I might have one or two people I can call a "friend" but it doesn't equate to true friendship with me. I don't necessarily connect with them.

This feeling will pass, as it always does. But I don't ever want to forget the memories.

I'm sorry...

I've been gone for 5 days. Wow.
I usually don't skip out on my blog for this long.
I have so many things I want to write here. But I can't really do it right now. It's 12:30am here for me. So, at about 5:30am I'll be back.

Lots of things to write. Lots of things to update. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Xx

What Be Happenin'?

I'm sorry that I haven't been around.
I'm just kind of all over the place right now. I don't really know anymore.

I was doing better, and I have been doing better since hanging out with my mom. It's just... She's happy. She is free, and although she has her problems, she is a fighter. She's got an infectious personality, and I just enjoy being around her.

Yesterday I went to get my passport, and when I called to make the appointment, the lady didn't tell me what I needed so I showed up unprepared. We ended up needing to go back to my house, and then to my grandmother's house to get all of the things we needed. My dad got upset that I was unprepared, and my grandpa got upset that I was unprepared and they started yelling at me. I don't know what it was about the situation that made me crack, but I couldn't stop crying. I hate it. I cry when I get really angry. Not because I'm sad. So I cancelled my appointment for yesterday, and instead went today by myself. It went better today.
But as a result of yesterday's stress and my lack of grace in handling it, I'm back to wearing pants. Which in turn kills my self esteem. Because I only like how I look in jeans if I have a baggy shirt on or a hoodie. Always. I hate wearing shorts because they ride up in the middle since I'm so fat, and my legs jiggle when I walk. Which only lowers my self esteem.
I don't understand. I'm so good at putting up a facade. Yesterday while walking to my friends house, I put my headphones in and I turned it up really loud. I started jamming out to my music, not giving two fucks who was watching. And watch people did. Some people slowed down their cars, stopped, looked at me. It made me smile, because I was confident. I didn't care what people thought of me in that moment.
That's what I think is so crazy. When I do things like that, I can project an air of confidence, which is almost believable. I can almost make myself believe it. But then other things (like wearing jeans) makes me so uncomfortable. I just.. It's confusing. You see?
Today has been a bit better than yesterday, other than my stress level. The only thing I really have to stress about is if my dad searches me. About a week ago, I mentioned to him the plans that I had with a "friend" and he wanted to see my arms. Just to make sure that I hadn't cut. Which I had one cut on my left bicep, but otherwise none that he could see. I'm stressing because he is going out of town tomorrow, which means I'll be alone for an entire day (Since both of my room mates are camping for the weekend.) I'm psyched, but I'm also nervous that my dad will search me. I don't think he knows that I cut on my legs. I think that he only assumes that I only cut on my arms. But if he checks my legs, I'm fucked. Which is my own fault. Also, he said that if he sees any more cuts on my arms/body, he is flying me to Missouri (I'm sorry if any of you live there!!). The thing is, he is gonna be working up there for a while. So he said that if I ruin his summer with my cutting, he will ruin my summer with my boyfriend. I've got plans to hang out with him on Monday, which is a whole 'nother ordeal..
So basically, my dad can't see my legs. Which I'm pretty good at hiding. But I'm just stressed.

Now, about Cimiron. I'm totally stoked that I get to hang out with him. Don't get me wrong. But there are certain parts of our relationship that make me nervous. Just because I don't know  anything about it, if that makes sense. I love him, I really do. But I guess I just feel inadequate in certain parts of our relationship. I'm sure there is an easy fix to that, but I don't have access to that. If I could just never go there, I would. But that isn't possible.
He knows about my blog too. I'm not sure if he reads it still, but I know that he used to. He said that it helped him to know what I was going through, and to understand what things I wouldn't tell him. I get that, I do. I don't mind it, either. But with the good comes the bad. The bad being that now I feel like I can't write certain things here for fear that he might see them. Which is stupid, but there are just some things that I can't bring myself to tell him. Like the above thing.

Everything and everybody makes me insecure. I don't get it. It's like I'm more sensitive to everything now. Or at least for the time being. I feel sad at times, and then I find a way to just stop thinking, and suddenly I'm happier. The only problem with that is that I can't just not think all the time. I wish I could, but I can't.
One of the things that I can't help thinking is that if I'd had my mom around while I was growing up, so many things would be different. You know, all the things you learn from your mom while growing up? Or things like the little monumental moments that you have with your mom by growing up? Like going for your first bra, or learning to shave, or learning how to put on make-up. I don't know. I just never had those things. I had to learn them on my own, in my own ways. Sure, there are other people that could step in for my mom in my family. People like my grandma, or my aunt. But the fact is, I just don't feel close enough to them to ever have gone through that. I'm never comfortable around my grandma. I'm not sure why, and that doesn't really matter at the moment. I just don't feel comfortable around my family. If you asked me who I was closest to in my family, I would probably say my grandpa. But even then, I don't tell him things. I don't ask his advice. I don't tell him my secrets. It's not that kind of close. It's more like I just feel like he's a father to me.
He's always been there for me in ways that my dad never was. Which I am very grateful for. Without him, no doubt I would be a lot worse off. I live for his hugs. They are like home to me. But I know that they won't be around forever, and I'm scared for that day to come. I'm scared to lose him.
Even now, I can hardly type this through the tears streaming down my face.

I long for someone to feel close to. I have so many walls up. So many walls around my heart. I would love to let them down, and just feel close to someone. But I couldn't take them down if I tried. I don't know how. Without a doubt, Cimiron is the closest person to me, aside from my grandpa. But even then, I know there is a distance between us. I'm not just talking about the physical one either. I have never been close to people. No matter how close we may think we are, I usually don't get hurt when they walk away and leave. It's just easy for me to pick myself up and move on. No big deal. I wouldn't say It's quite like that with Cimiron, but I would be lying if I said that it wasn't a little like that. I love him, with all of my heart. I don't doubt that. But sometimes I question what it is that makes me love him so deeply. Do I love him because he's the one person that can make me feel good about myself, and not just temporarily? Do I love him because of who he is, his personality? Why? Maybe it's a little of both. Or maybe there are more reasons.
But I just get so lonely sometimes. Which makes no sense, because I've pushed people away. I've stopped talking to them. I've focused only on myself, nothing else. I've changed. But it doesn't seem like I've done that entirely. I don't want to be close to people. I don't want to share secrets with someone. I don't want to trust and get hurt yet again. Can't I just bond with someone without trusting them? It would make everything so much easier.

On yet another note, my dad left the state to go work in another state. He said he will be gone for about two months. I'm excited about this, just a little. I won't be alone on my own, because my room mates will still be here. But this is a chance for me to kind of be on my own, and live my life. To get a small break from my dad, and he can get a break from me. I think this will be good. I never thought I would say this, but I want my room mates to be back. They get back on Monday, but I want them back now because I'm feeling a little creeped out all alone in my house. I don't like this feeling. So! They went camping, and they will be back on Monday. So I have an entire day to myself, woot! What shall I do with it? Prepare for Monday? xD

So yep. That's pretty much my life right now.
I'm sure there is more, but it's 2 am and I'm a bit tired. I wasn't going to sleep, but I'm getting really tired. So I might end up doing just that. Good night!Xx

Going Down

One 5 minute conversation with my dad has left me shaking, weak, and near a panic attack.
I asked my dad to hang out with a friend tomorrow, and he said "Let's see the arms." He wouldn't stop until I showed him my arms. There was only 1 small cut on my left bicep, but he attacked me. He told me that if he saw one more cut, he would send me to a psych ward. He only assumes that I cut on my arms, and he hasn't seen my stomach or legs. Which I guess is good.

But it's funny. When I needed help, he rejected me. Now that I don't want his help, he's watching me. I walked in the house wearing a hoodie earlier and he kept trying to ask me why I was in a hoodie. I just told him I felt like wearing one. The truth? I felt too fat to be seen without it.
I just... This feels wrong. I don't want him to know my secret. I don't want him to know anything. I don't want him to find my blog, or realize I have an ED. No way in hell. But I guess as long as I don't say anything, I should be fine, right?

It's too much to handle. This, people knowing, feeling shoved out of my family, my toxic thoughts. It's all too much to handle... Which makes me want to reach for my blade again.
Why can't I just disappear?

Fighting Is What I Know

I've got so many thoughts and not enough will to express them.
I feel hopeless, if I'm honest. I feel defeated, pissed off, and tired.
I'm tired of everything.
I want to fight. I want to honestly fight with someone. Doesn't really matter who, or what we fight about. I just need the conflict. It doesn't make sense.
What to do?

Ugh.

Some Reeses Pieces, two cans of Coca-Cola, 1 bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and 1 piece of cake later...
I'm going for a run.
I'll assess the damage in the morning.

Random Update

My days are a constant. They aren't really changing.
Not that I'm complaining, it's just crazy, is all.
Right now, I would say I'm high off of blood loss, starvation, and sleep deprivation. I've been this way for a while now, and I never want to go back.
I think I'm going to go make some french toast. Easily my favorite food that my grandpa and I cook. <3

Kill Paradise

Last night was AMAZING!!!
I went to a Kill Paradise concert and I was so stoked to be there. I love their music, their beats.
So catchy. :D
I went with my friend A. Although I almost got kicked out, and I got in some trouble, it was so much fun.
I love going to concerts. :D
So far I've been to 7 concerts. Aerosmith and ZZ Topp were my first concert. Then there was Ozzy Osbourne, Lindsey Stirling (twice), Defy You Stars, Kill Paradise (twice), Brit Floyd, The Austrailian Pink Floyd, As I Lay Dying, Shinedown, Saving Abel, and I've been to HeavenFest a few times. There are so many bands there every year that I just can't remember them all. xD I'm really lucky. ^_^

Does anyone else get so pumped up off of the feeling of the musicians? Their energy? I do. So yes! That's what I did yesterday and it was FANTASTIC!! :D
I don't think I can say that enough. Sadly, I don't have any footage of the concert, or pics, but I might be able to rectify that. So far, my summer is turning out pretty well.
Ohh... And did I mention that there's only 7 days until Cimiron is here?! Yup. One week. I'm so very excited. :D ^_^

How's life in your neck of the woods? xD

Words Are Bullets..

But they don't always bounce away.

"My tie dye [shirts] don't fit me anymore since they're too big. But they fit you perfectly!"

"Someone's got the munchies... Damn."

"My clothes wouldn't fit you. They're not big enough."

"You hungry?"

"You're normal. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Could be worse."

"You know it's here if you want it."

Every comment... Every syllable, every letter.
They stick in my head. Remind me. Every damn time, and they never go away.
I don't have a safe haven.
Everything is crashing down around me or people are taking direct aim at me. I don't have a voice here.
Meth? No big deal.
But I don't have a voice. Before I started smoking weed, I cringed at the thought of drugs and going that route. I swore that I would never do drugs of any kind. But weed changed everything.

I've only been here 3 hours, and already I want to cut again. I want to cut off my skin, die. I want to disappear.
Everything is a bullet. Everything is a hit. Maybe not to an outsider.. But.. I just want everything to end..

Emotional Thunder On The Horizon..

I'm at an awkward point right now emotionally. On the one hand, I feel angry and pissed off; Murderous. But I'm also satisfied that I don't feel the need to tell everyone everything. (My blog is excluded.)
On the other hand - I feel sad, lost, empty, numb, broken, hopeless. But they all kind of blend together - the good and the bad feelings. So they leave me stuck in the middle of Nowhereland.
I'm still trying to work out how to be positive, or more optimistic/less pessemistic. Which is why my posts might be whack right now.
Either that or I'm a quack. I'm probably a quack. xD Woot.
Anyways, so there you have it. The emotional storm that's been a brewin'. I'm sure It'll be over soon. Or not. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Emotional Thunder n' Rants

I'll be honest.
Yesterday I felt down. Not necessarily into suicide territory, but just so sad.
It's a mixture of fear, anticipation, loneliness, anger, and just a deep sorrow.
I can't really explain it. It has hung around so much.
Earlier I was wearing a white shirt and I was drinking some Dr. Pepper in the car. My grandpa decided to fuck with me, even after I told him I wanted a drink. So he decided to slam on his breaks, several times while I was trying to drink. Long story short - it spilled all over me. In white.

Once we got home, I ran inside and changed, grabbed my blades, and told them I was going for a walk.
I was hoping that walking would distract me, but it didn't. Not so much.
Earlier (before the whole incident with my grandpa), my dad saw some of my cuts. The one he pointed out is the one that says 'fat' carved into my left bicep. He goes 'I thought we were done with this cutting bullshit.' He also asked me why I had done it, which I don't have an answer for. There's no way I could ever make anyone understand why I do it, unless you've been there.
It took everything I had not to laugh in his face or reach for the blades again. I've got to be really careful now. The cut I had from the middle of May is still healing. But now I've got dozens of more to deal with, and probably more to follow.

I'm in such a concentrated state with my self destruction, I don't think anyone can pull me out. Cimiron maybe.. But he doesn't have the keys. He can't, therefore, save me.
Oops. Did I say save me? My bad. I don't need saving. He could help me get out of here. But this.. Self destruction.
It's what I'm good at. It's what I know. It's natural for me.
I'm crazy. A quack.
If I wasn't, I wouldn't find pleasure or satisfaction is harming myself.

I don't really know where this post is going.. I'm just writing. It feels good.. But this post doesn't make sense. Lol sorry..

Unwanted What Else Is New?

Even my mom doesn't want me around.
Great.
Her reasons make sense, I don't disagree.
But just.. I guess it's good to know the truth. I guess I just need to realize and deal with it for the next 8 months. Then I can leave, and I can say fuck you to everything here. I can move out on my own, and I don't have to deal with anyone else.

Never Too Early

In 3 or so hours, I can wake up and actually start my day, whereas right now im supposed to be sleeping.
I'm really pumped for today. I feel like I can do anything (and it's all natural - no drugs involved). xD
I have music in my ears, I'm gonna be trying to get a job, which will put me closer to moving out of here when I turn 18. I am so excited.

I really would like to get some more music though. So if you'd like to, comment down below some of your favorite artists/bands and I would appreciate it! (:

I function better when I'm starving and tired. I don't know why, but I do. Take right now, for example. I feel perfectly happy, content, relaxed. It's an amazing feeling. But as soon as I start thinking, I start falling. /:

I'm not sure what I'll do later today, or in 2.5 hours when I actually get up. I might be hanging out with my mom again. :D That's always tons of fun. I'm also gonna be job hunting, and possibly going swimming. I guess I'll see. (:

Don't forget me..

I'm scared to be forgotten...
I think that is my reason for playing the violin, writing a blog, writing poetry, etc. That's the only reason. So that nobody will forget me. Except, I haven't done a good enough job to stand out in any of those...

I'm 17, and I've managed to accomplish nothing. I will be forgotten... Even if someone knows me 3 years from now, that's 20 years that will be lost, and that will never be remembered.
I don't want to die forgotten.. It just seems so sad.. /:

WANTED

I've got a few poems laying around, and I need to pick the best one. Would anyone here be willing to read them, give me constructive criticism, and give some input on which is the most well written?
I'm a bit biased, and a bit unable to determine it on my own, which is why I turned to Blogger.
If anyone is willing to help, I'd greatly appreciate it. (:

Runnin'

My heart's beating faster,
I know what I'm after,
I've been standing here my whole life,
Everything I seen twice,
Now it's time I realize,
It's bending back around now,
On this road I'm drawin',
Save me cuz I'm falling,
I can't seem to breathe right,
Cuz I keep running,
Running (x8),
Running from my heart.

Round and around I go,
Addicted to the numb livin' in the cold,
The higher,
The lower,
The down down down.
Sick of being tired and sick in bed,
For another kind of fix,
The damage is damning me down,
Down, down..

Usually people say to listen to your heart, because it's there that you'll find the answer. I never understood that, even as a little kid. I never felt anything in my heart.
I get the constant feeling that I'm running. Speeding. Towards what though? Destruction? Protection?

"Addicted to the numb living in the cold."
Without that numb, I fear what I might have been, or where I might have ended up. The 'numb' feeling saved me.
My numb is found in living in a different kind of cold, but both are capable of killing.

So what do I really want?
What am I not allowing myself to see?
What am I hiding about myself that I refuse to acknowledge?

Rant

Have I ever mentioned how much I don't want to be here?
I really need to rant about my dad for a second. So if you don't want to hear/read it, skip this next paragraph.
He's suspicious of me, even when I don't have anything to hide. So when I DO actually have things to hide, well, it's hell. Earlier he came into my room and asked if I smoked pot. I was stoned, so I had to keep a distance from him. When I told him that I didn't, he asked S's son, who lives one room over from me. He also said no.
He's an asshole too. He was talking to S about our trip to Hawaii and he said 'I can't wait to go this next time, and be by myself. I would have gone last time, but I had Camille, and well, you know.' He also said that he was taking me to Ampsterdam so that I could babysit. I mean, c'mon! If those two things can be said in the same breath, well then fuck you.
He keeps on making comments on the food I eat, whether I'm not hungry, what I eat, my appearance.
Fuck him. I try to block it out, but it isn't enough.

I have so many things to hide from him. I try so much to hide them too. It isn't like I flaunt them.
My ED, my laxatives, my blades, my scale, my weed, my cuts, my depression, being suicidal, my mom, etc. So many things to hide from everyone. If they find out one secret, they will find out the rest in the same breath.
I know I said that this is my game, but that doesn't mean it's easy.
It's taking it's toll on me. I'm starting to fall again.
But I'll just keep my head up and pretend I'm okay. I always do, and I always will. I have never known it any other way.

Lies

I need to think here for a moment.
I've lied so much in recent times (last 6 months). Hell, in the last year and a half.
But so much has happened in the last year and a half.
-Lost someone
R.I.P grandma - whom I wanted to know but never got the chance to.

- Got kicked out of my house - I still hate my dad, to this day. 8 months, baby. Not soon enough.

- Got forced back to my dad's house - Never wanted to come back.

- Was discovered as a cutter - only made me cut more, trust less, embrace my inner Ana

- Started hanging with my mom - Probably the best/most risky idea I've had. See, it's illegal. She could go to jail for it. My dad would kill me. Literally, no joke.

- Started smoking weed - Best/worst decision I have ever made.

- My grandpa had a heart attack - So glad he's okay, but still, more lies.

- Tried and failed to OD - Guess I didn't try hard enough.

- Found out my mom has cancer, both liver and breast. Cue more lies, all on my part.

Those are just the big things. I'm sure there are more.
I lie about so many things. I've found it really shocking when I actually DO tell the truth, simply because it is such a rare occasion.
Lying is my game. Keeping secrets is my specialty. Lying comes easily to me. Sometimes I'm proud of that, most of the time I'm not.
The only person I have no nor desire to lie to is my boyfriend. Don't ask me why.

I just... Everything is taking it's toll on me.
Lying about hanging with my mom almost got me caught. My grandpa dropped me off near a spot he knows, and sometime before that my mouth asked him about a bus route to her town, without my heads permission. I don't want to get her caught, and I don't want to get caught myself.

It's kinda like if one of my lies is found out, than so are the rest. So I have to be careful..

I lied about my grandma's passing to my immediate family. Though they knew about her passing, and we went to the viewing, I told them that I didn't remember her (from my childhood), and that her passing didn't bother me.
Truth: I do remember her from my childhood, and I was really affected by her passing. I'd wanted to know her but never got the chance to. I live with my dad's side of the family, and my grandma was on my mom's side. Which should explain why I never got to see her. My family wasn't too keen on her or her family.

I lied about things when I got kicked out. I lied to my grandparents about wanting to try again with my dad and about moving back. They were so hopeful, and in the end before I moved back they said that if I wasn't willing to try with my dad, then I couldn't live with them either. So I lied.
Truth: I never wanted to see that man again (still hate him).

I lied to my 'therapist' about a lot of things. I never admitted to her how much I exercised and how much I actually ate. She thought it had something to do with my mood swings, I disagreed. Whatever. Eventually after 8 weeks of her bullshit, I said I was cured and happy and that I never wanted to see her again.

I lied about being a cutter. Or I tried to. My dad has pretty much forgotten everything I told him, and we're back to square one. I'm still cutting, he's still being an asshole. The only new addition is that I have to hide better since he knows I'm a cutter now.

I lied about my mom. I swore up and down that I didn't ever want to see her again and that even though she had cancer, it didn't bother me. I thought that I felt that way,a nd I thought that I meant it. It's what they wanted to hear.
Truth: Some part of me did want to see her again. Her cancer did bother me, because it means less time to spend catching up with the mother I never had and only sometimes wanted.

I lie about smoking weed, because if people knew I smoked, such as my dad, he would flip a bitch. For one, it's illegal for me since I'm 17. For two, he would only add it to the list of reasons why I'm like my brother, or like my mom. Not that he needs any more reasons..

I lied when my grandpa had a heart attack because I used that as an excuse to get out of school. He DID actually have a heart attack, and it did bother me, but nonetheless I lied.

I lied about OD'ing too. I lied about why I did it, and that I didn't want to do it again. I lied and said all the things that they wanted to hear. But I didn't mean any of it. Some part of me might want to live, yes, but I can't deny that I really don't wnat to live it.

Lying is pretty much second nature to me. I guess I can't deny that. But at the same time, I can't also prove that it's true.

Update!

Today is a pretty good day. (:
It's sunny, I've tanned, and last night I laughed for the first time in forever.
I spent all of last night with my mom, just talking. We talked about a lot of things.
I know that I won't forget her comment, and I've thought about just telling her how it makes me feel, but it doesn't seem like it's worth the effort.
Like it's not a big enough problem, whatever. Isn't that what I wanted?

I started looking for jobs again, and I've got a lot of places to check out/apply to. So I'll be doing that in the next several days, but hopefully I can get a job.

I've hardly been suicidal since summer started. But that's also when I started getting stoned, all day and every day.
It's a great appetite suppressant.
Speaking of which.. Ugh.
While I was at my mom's, I basically binged. It was bad, to say the least. I'm afraid to weigh myself, because I'm afraid to see the damage. I just bought a shit ton of laxatives, and I took a bunch. Hopefully that helps, and I won't be quite as fat.

I've also got something in the back of my mind. Which I'm still trying to think over, and don't intend on deciding anything anytime soon. It's a drug. Go figure.
The drug in question here? Meth.
Yes, I know all the bad things about it, and how it's addictive, and how it kills you, all of that. So save your breath. I'm very much aware of that.
It's just... Some undeniable part of me scream 'do it!' and there is a part of me that *wants* to. I'm still not sure how to percieve that part of me, or even to really think about it. It's merely a thought. I'm not really sure right now.

So that's my update. (There may be another one, soon.)

I hope everyone is doing well. <3

FUCK YOU!!!

"You're not anorexic. If you were you'd be, y'know, *thin*.."
Fuck you.
Fuck you, for saying that.
Fuck you, for KNOWING I struggle and saying that.

19 day fast? Starting now. Fuck it.

Unlabeled Pain

My dreaming nightmares
Will become my waking reality.

What Is Individuality?

I'm not sure if this is normal or not.. But I don't really care.

Whenever I think about who I am, and what I stand for, what I believe in... I get really pissed.
I get angry that there are people like me (who share the same problems).
I get angry that nobody seems to understand where I'm at and what I feel. I always seem to be wrong.
I get angry that Eating Disorders are so common.
I get angry that people would ever think to fake an Eating Disorder.
I get angry that Self Harm is so common.
I get angry that I SH just like so many other people.
I get angry at those who SH for attention.
I get angry that I don't seem to have any individuality.
I get angry that I can't be stronger.
I get angry that I'm not making an impact on people.
I get angry that I'm so selfish.
I get angry that I want to die.
I get angry that Suicide is so common.
I get scared that all of these things make me just like everybody else.
I get scared that I'll never be able to define myself.
I get angry that I'm not good enough.

So much anger. But that's common too, isn't it?
I've tried getting rid of all my anger, but it just never seems to fade. It only grows. The bigger it grows, the more inward it turns. But that's so 'normal' too, huh?
So then what is Individuality, and how do you define it?

No Creativity.

I started this project, in my room. I was tired of it being blank, so I started redecorating. With that redecorating, came the cleaning. Organizing. Sub-organizing. Alphabetizing. It's gotten kinda bad.
I want to do everything at once and ever time I do something new, I have to redo everything else too. Never good enough.
So far I've been at this for almost 3 days, and I'm nowhere near close.
I hold on to things that I never will use, or that I don't need, because I'm afraid of letting it go. I'm afraid that if I let go, I might let go of something important. (Metaphorical much? Philisophical?)
I've got a box in my room though, and I'm putting things in it that I don't want/won't use/don't know what to do with. I thought it would help. It has, but it's also made me feel really guilty.
I had a meltdown a while back (like a few months) and I destroyed/hid everything in my room that showed my personality. Or almost everything anyways. I hid everything that had 'me' in it. I thought that would make me feel better.
Now I'm tired of my bare walls, so I'm putting it all back up.
This is apparently a family trait. I hate it. I don't want to do this for the rest of my life. I don't want to fit in.
I just... I want to be normal.
Maybe when I'm done with my room, i'll feel more individual, more sane. More me. Whoever that is.

Moving Forward - Never stopping

I've been quite busy since school let out.
Which is nice. I in no way want to stay home. I want to be out doing things, going places.
I've hung out with A a few times, and yesterday we smoked. It was.. Interesting. I'm not sure if he liked it or not, but personally, I felt really awkward. Maybe because I don't do the whole people thing? Haha.
I hung out with my mom on Friday, and we went swimming. I got a tan, and we just had a good time. We talked a bit, and it was just genuinely nice. I'm supposed to hang out with her again on Monday.
I went to my friend's graduation party last night, even though I hadn't originally planned to. It was fun, even if I did seem awkward. I hadn't planned on going until the last minute, so I didn't bring my swimming suit. So while everyone was swimming, I was guarding phones. Not that I minded. I watched everyone push each other into the pool, and just do crazy things. There was a young girl in the pool, maybe like 4. She was really protective of her brother. His friends were joking with him and dunking him in the pool, and she got upset because she didn't want them to hurt him. He was older than her though. It just made me wonder... Was I ever like that with my brother?

*** There's gonna be several posts while I catch up on the last few days. I'm apologizing a head of time for spamming your newsfeed.***

A Shell of Who I Used To Be

I've got no finals left to take. I'm done. But why doesn't that excite me?

I was in a good mood today. I woke up at 8, it's pretty much my last day of school, and it was pouring outside. What's not to love about that?
So at first, I was just happy. I went outside and I played in the rain. I jumped, I ran, I walked, and I got soaked. I loved it. As soon as I came inside, I had to go to Sociology. So I told her that I was at school, and I went back outside. Not like we were doing anything. I got even more soaked, but I didn't mind. Then came time for the Chemistry final. I went in there, intending to take that final. But the more I sat there, the more I knew I wasn't going to. So I got up and I left. Just walked right out of the classroom. I know it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I guess I can't change it now.
Which, as it turns out, I'm fucked anyways. My teacher actually called my grandma. She told my grandma that I walked out of the classroom, that I hadn't taken the final, and that I wasn't going to pass her class. She also told my grandma that if I turned in 5 assignments, and went in tomorrow to take the make up final, she would help me pass her class. Or I guess that's what she said. But I don't know.
I'm just empty. I don't want to pass her class, I don't want to turn in the 5 assignments I don't have (Because I only have two missing assignments), and I guess I just need to do this. I need to fail her class, so that I can punish myself.
This is killing me. Literally.killing me. I used to be a great student. Then I started getting worse. I can't do that. I need to be as close to perfect as I can, be as good as I can. I can't fail. It's just not an option....
Except it is. Because I am failing, and I just can't do anything. Here's the proof. (I apologize for them being sideways... I didn't have time to edit them.)

This was my Freshman Year. I was a good student then too. That was the time I got my very first C. I had never gotten anything lower than that before, and it was in Government. I don't know if you can read that, so here's the grades I got. I'll post them twice. The first letter is what I got first semester, the second letter is what I got second semester.
Algebra I - B, A
Digital Photography - A
Earth Science - C, A
English 9 - A, A
French (one semester only) - B
U.S Government (one semester only) - C
Orchestra - B, A
That C in US Gov was my first C ever. It killed me. Even then, I wanted to be perfect. I knew I could be. If it weren't for that C in Gov. But even then, I had a 4.0 GPA weighted, and a 3.9 unweighted.

This was my Sophomore Year. Right about when things started slipping. I tried to keep them from slipping, but I guess I didn't try hard enough. Here's my grades:
Biology - A, A
English Honors 10 - B, B
Drama (one semester only) - C
Geometry Honors - C, D
Lifetime Fitness (One semester only) - B
US History Honors - B, C
Spanish I - C, B
The D in Geometry killed me too. As well as the C's. I still had a 3.3 GPA though. So it wasn't all bad, though I knew that I was slipping. I didn't believe that I had a problem, and I was determined to get them up. When I got my final grades at the end of the semester, I can remember just going crazy. To everyone else, I was fine. To everyone else, everything was okay, and I wanted to do better. But I think that's when my "barely there" eating disorder started getting full blown. I think that's when it all started..

This is from first Semester this year. The second category has no grades, because they are still in progress. So I'll just post those down below, and you can witness my downward spiral if you wish. Even more.
Algebra II - A, C
Chemistry - C, F
English 121 - B, *
Psychology (One semester) - C
Sociology (One semester) - B
Spanish II - B, B
World History - C, C

So there you have it. I went from being a straight A student, to now barely passing my classes. The asterisk next to English 121 is because she hasn't graded my final yet. So I don't know my grade there, but I don't think it will be all that great.

I can't believe this. I can't believe that I ever let this happen. No wonder my dad hates me. He sees that I am not what I used to be. He knows that I am no longer me. I guess I can't blame him.

I just want to cry. I want to cut so that I can feel something.

I never really feel anything anymore. I feel numb a lot of the time. I feel empty, not here. I don't mind the numbness, really. But.. sometimes I just need to know that I feel.

I think that's the only thing that I ever really enjoy anymore. I enjoy hurting myself. I enjoy the pain, the razor. I enjoy seeing the scars on my body, because they are a reminder that I still feel. I don't want to give that up. If I do, then what will I have left? Nothing.

I don't want to be me anymore. I hate everything that I can possibly hate about myself, and then some. I don't want to live in my body anymore. I wish that I could cut deep enough that maybe, just maybe, I could step out of this world, or even out of me, and become someone else. Anything, anyone but me.

I see other people, some of my closer friends, going down this path. The Eating Disorder path. The Ana path. I try and try to tell them not to go there, but I don't know what I can do to make them stop. I don't know what I can say. I know that I'm a horrible person for that. For wanting to and probably turning my back on them when they need me. For not trying harder to turn them away from the path that has destroyed me. For wanting to walk away, rather than watch them go down this path. I just don't want to feel responsible, I guess.

I'm really crazy. There are dark twisted things in my mind, dark thoughts that just eat at me. But I know better than to admit them. I mean, I admitted that I'm a cutter, and look where that got me. So I guess I'm just going to have to keep them inside. I don't want you guys to think I'm crazy, not that I even think I have the courage to admit them. If I did, then it would make everything real. There would be no more denial.\

They show up on the lines on my body, all the time. When those heal, there are always new ones to take their place, but even then, the scars are my memories. I don't ever want to forget this. I don't ever want anyone to ever try to make me think that I am okay. The scars on my body prove otherwise.

There is no erasing this.

It is forever me.

My past is always going to haunt me.

There is no way out.

The razor is the only thing that can help, the only thing that lets me express the pain inside.

People may think they understand, but I don't think that you can. I don't feel like anyone can.

There's only me.

Thinking... Thinking... Done.

I am fucking fucked.
Let me just say that.

I am not being over dramatic, or maybe I am and I'm just to naive to see it.
I have my finals tomorrow and Wednesday. Then I'm done with school. DONE. It will be summer time, and I will be a senior.
Only, here's the catch. I'm already failing Chemistry, but I couldn't give two fucks about that. I'm also probably going to fail English. Which is like my best subject ever. Why am I going to fail English?
Because I failed to write the Literary Analysis paper on Hamlet that we've been working on for ohh... 2 or 3 weeks now.
I know, it's totally my fault that I haven't written the paper. But... I don't know. I don't have an excuse. All I know is that every time I try, I just can't. It's like everything falls out of me. Every time I try to think about school, I feel like I'm falling. Falling so far, so fast, and I can't see the bottom. There is nothing that I can grab on to on the way down, but I know that once I hit the bottom, there is no going back.
I just can't do it. The other half of my English final is a test on Hamlet as well. Probably multiple choice, but I don't know. I have a C in that class already, I can't afford to fail.
I guess here's to summer school.

I want to talk to people, I want them to help me, I want to find a way to be okay, to be strong. I don't need people. I mean, they only leave. Or say that they don't know how to help me, that they can't help me. I am on my own in this. As soon as my finals are done, I am going to start in with it hardcore. I am going to let Ana run loose, have her way, do whatever. I am not going to give into her. I can't wait for that release. Then, when I'm no longer required to do anything, I am going to achieve my goals. I am going to starve, and be happy. I am going to have the summer of my life. I am going to enjoy being with Cimiron, with my mom, with my brother, and I'm going to enjoy my Summer.


There's also another thing that I'm anxious about. This kid, A, which is the kid that I previously pushed away, but am now friends with... He figured out that I smoke weed. Not that that is a huge surprise, but I guess he didn't know. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't push it onto people, I don't openly flaunt the fact that I smoke, and I don't smoke all the time. Nowhere near that.
I occasionally smoke with other people who do, but I never push people to if they don't want to. Hell, I rarely smoke around other people. But A, well.. he said  that he'd never smoked and that he wanted to try it. I told him to go ahead, and that if he wanted to, it was his choice to make. He asked if he could smoke with me. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, so I just shrugged. He later gave me some money to buy weed, because he said that he wanted to chip in his piece. I told him he didn't have to. I never actually thought that I'd be smoking with him. I never thought I would be the person to start that with someone who had never smoked before. I don't know why, but that makes me feel strange. I don't know what I should do. Do I go ahead and buy the weed, and smoke with him? Do I return the money and lie to him? Just tell him that I'm giving it up, and that if he really wants to smoke with someone, he needs to find someone else? Because I know that once he does it once, chances are that he will want to again. And he will turn to me. For whatever reason, one that I can't pinpoint, that makes me really uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. I don't like smoking around other people. The only people I've ever smoked with are my brother, my mom, and a close friend of mine. She's the one who started me on weed. But I don't know.

I just can't stop thinking about it. I hate this. I hate the fact that people know about me. I hate the fact that anyone knows anything about me. I need to take it all back. I need to take everything back. I need to go back to being on my own. I need to go back to being independent, not needing so many people. I need to go back to being closed off, and I need to start relying on myself again. I can't do this. I don't want to panic every time I think of other people. Of people who give so much to me, yet I have nothing to give back. I don't want to have to worry about what people might say, what they won't. I don't want to have to try to be social where I don't want to be. I mean, I don't trust people. I don't hold many people close to my heart. I don't feel. How is that in any way fair to the people around me? They give me so much, and I have nothing to give back.
I wish I could take back everything I've ever told anyone about me. Not the people here that read my blog, because I can't control that. I don't want to control that. But the people here, in my actual life, well, I just can't do that. I don't know how to explain it. But I just know that I need to take it all back.

So I guess we'll see what the next few days bring...

Mi Madre

Today with my mom was... Awesome.
I spent like 7 hours with her, and it was just *nice*.
There is no hate lurking in the corners, no anger splattered on the walls, no grudges within the people. It's just peaceful. Which is something I guess I needed.
I've felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while. All the while I was there (7 hours) I didn't think about how fat I am, how much I hate myself, wanting to cut, wanting to die... None of it. I was simply in the moment.
Going back to where she lived, there weren't any of the negative memories I might have thought would be there. That city has changed so much in the 6 or 7 years since I've been there. I hardly recognized anything.
We didn't do much. We hung out, talked, shared music, she gave me some jewelry. She gave me a lot of rings, which I added to a necklace to make it mine, a few glass eggs which help relieve stress, some papers on the Native American ways (my brother R is a follower of the Native ways, and I'm so curious to learn everything I can. Even if I don't believe in it myself, I think it's cool.)
I guess I didn't realize how many similarities my mom and I share. We're both into Wicca, we both like some of the same music, we both have ED's, we both self harm (or in her case she did at one time), we both share some of the same views, we both like to read. I mean, it's just crazy.
She gave me some weed (which I wasn't expecting, but I appreciate), and she made me genuinely happy. Maybe it was the yellow walls. xD
Anyways, my point is, I had a good day. For the most part. It was nice to get away, to see her, get to know her a little bit. Just nice to be anywhere else. Y'know? So overall, it was a pretty good day. I met her boyfriend/roommate or whatnot, and he's pretty chill. I'd love to do it again, and maybe sometime I will. (:
So that's the good part of my day! :D

Today is Thursday, but it's my last day of this week for school. I have a four day weekend after this, which I'm excited about. I've been working on all of my work, in little amounts. Not doing as much as I know I should, and avoiding the big stuff. But I'm trying.
I'm avoiding thinking about all of my finals, but eventually I'll have to face them. I just.. I don't know.
I haven't even started on my English Final essay, which is a literary analysis of Hamlet. I just don't know how to write it or how to start or anything. Oh, and the written part of the exam is also on Hamlet. Which means I'm fucked. For my other two finals, I think I can use notes/review sheets, so that shouldn't be too hard. But I don't know what I'm going to do about my Algebra II final. Just study, I guess.
I wish I knew someone who understood Hamlet. That would make my life a hell of a lot easier. Because I've read the play, several times. I've watched the movie (directed by Zefferelli) and I still can't understand Hamlet enough to write a literary analysis essay. Ugh.
I have to write it by Monday. I'm so stressing. But I guess, if nothing else, I will just have to pull it out of my ass. It's a college English class, so I'm getting college credit for it. Which is why I'm worrying about it so much.

Friday I am going to breakfast with my mom, and I'll probably end up spending the day over there. I'm kinda excited about it, because it would be nice to talk to her. But at the same time, I've got so many irrational fears and questions. What if she thinks I'm fat? Should I try to hide my ED food habits from her? How much should I tell her? What should I say? I don't trust her, but I'm not against trusting her either, so how much is enough? What if she judges me? She has an ED too, so I know for a fact that I'll compare myself to her. She's already so much smaller than me, so what if I'm not enough? Being social is hard for me, a lot of the time. So I guess a lot of these worries might stem from that, but that doesn't make them any easier to deal with.

Also, I've noticed that I count everything. I count the number of napkins on the table (and they have to be even), I count the number of steps I take. Like on a sidewalk, I have to take the same number of steps per square. I have to. I count my breaths, how many times I blink. I count how many times I tap a table. I count literally everything that you could think of to count. I don't know why. But I have to do it. To add to that, all of my numbers have to be even. I do everything in sets of 2, 4, or 6. Rarely 8, but only certain things then.

So yeah, that's my life. Just need to get through today. Shouldn't be too hard. Now it's time for Chem. >.<

Nonsense

My dad tried to talk to me last night. So I thought I'd give it a shot, but as it did the time before that, it only ended in a fight and nothing got accomplished.
I have accepted, or am  trying to accept, that I will not have any kind of relationship with my dad as long as I live there. Most likely for longer after that. It's just not possible.
After the fight, I ended up cutting really bad, and I realized how stupid I've been.
[this might sound odd, but try not to judge]
I've always been really good at keeping my wounds clean, hiding them, keeping them safe. You know, not letting them get infected. Well, turns out, I fucked that one up. For the first and hopefully last time. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not serious or anything, but it's definitely infected. I've never been so careless, and I don't know why I had this time. So, while I work on that, I guess I'll deal with the pain. Again, I'm an idiot, I know. It's in a really odd place, making it difficult to wrap. But it's also too big for a band-aid. Just my luck, right?

I thought about going back down and trying to talk to F. Again. I mean, I already know that he can't help me, but after the fight with my dad last night, I just wanted someone to talk to. I ended up staying up all night trying to sort this out. Which isn't helping, at all. Maybe I should just go back to ignoring it. I mean, it's gotta be better than this, right?
I really don't need to deal with this right now. I have a week left of school and I have finals. I have so much work I need to catch up on, and do. I have other things to worry about. This is not one of them that I need to worry about. >.<

I'm feeling pretty apathetic about everything that happened last night. I mean, I cried a lot. But now I think back on it and I don't really feel that much. Maybe I just can't put a name to what I'm feeling, so I try to think I'm not feeling it. I don't know.

I have 7 days of school left.
Just have to keep going, I guess.

Don't Forget About Me

I want to write... I need to write.
There is so much going on inside that I just need to write it all out.
But every time I start, I can't hold back the tears. I start not being able to breathe, and I feel like I physically have to hold myself together, or I'll fall apart. It's just too much.

There's nothing more that I want than a hug, and someone to talk with me about everything. Someone that isn't just going to apologize for everything and say they wish they could help me. I appreciate it, but it doesn't really help.

I spent all of Friday night stoned, and almost all of Saturday. Sunday, I slept a lot. Just so I didn't have to think. I'll do anything to not have to be in my head. To be able to escape for a while. I can't even begin to confront or sort through all of my thoughts and feelings right now.

My dad said he wanted to talk to me, on Friday night. But he said he'd do it when he got back in town. Which was yesterday. He said not one word. He said he would talk to me today. I don't want to hear it anymore.

S is siding with my dad, half the time. The other half she's trying to convince me and my dad to just let it go and forget it ever happened. I can't. I just can't.

My grandparents - I'm still ignoring them. I don't want to speak to either of them. Ever.

I'm so torn up inside, but I'm trying to pretend I'm fine. I'm talking to even less people, nowadays. But if you ask, I'm fine. Everything is fine.

I just.... I might not be writing for a while. Or I might not be around my blog as much as I have been. I'll still try to update, but in the meantime, don't forget about me.

Defy You Stars!!

Heyy!!!
How's it going?!
So I just came home from a concert!!! I feel amazing!!!
It was a concert with Defy You Stars, Carson Allen, Kill Paradise, and At Large. I don't know the other two, but DYS and KP are definitely my all time favorite bands. I'm so glad I got to see them in concert!!
I couldn't take any videos because it was too loud, but I took some pics that i'll upload tomorrow if I can.
I also got my ticket signed by Nikk, the lead singer of DYS. I got a guitar pick from the bassist in KP, and I was pretty happy. I mean, c'mon! Oh, and I got to go up on stage with KP and have some fun!!

All in all, it was the best. I'm so glad I got to enjoy my last day of freedom. My dad gets back tomorrow and he said he wants to 'talk'. I'm still so hurt over what he said, I don't know if I feel like talking.
I have to make sure he doesn't realize that I went to a concert, or anything else I've been doing. I have to be a good kid. Ugh.

I'm in such a good mood right now! I mean, I feel like the energizer bunny on steroids, meth, heroin, coke, speed, and any other drug. Just gogogogo!! :D
I'm gonna crash in the morning though. I know it.
That's why I'm writing this post and not going to sleep. I don't want to crash until I have to. (:
Happyhappyhappyhappy.

I'm so glad I went. I got a free ticket too. :D what could be better than this?

The Fallout

Before I get into what happened when I got home, I just need to say one thing.
I knew it was going to happen and I knew that he was going to be a fucking asshole. But I didn't expect him to be that harsh. That hurt even me.

So here goes.

My brother offered yesterday to face my dad with me, as I didn't want to do it alone. I was terrified of him. But my brother wasn't able to stay. So I got home about 3:30pm, and my dad got home about 9pm. Which gave me about 5 1/2 hours to think. Worst idea ever. Anyways, when he got home, I was in my room. I didn't want to confront him first, but it turns out that I didn't have to. He came into my room and the only thing he said was, "I hope you got the attention you wanted." and when I tried to tell him that I didn't do it for attention, he turned around and slammed the door. I followed him into the living room, and I told him that if I wanted attention, there are so many other things I could do to get it and that I wouldn't be cutting for attention.
He looked at me and just said that if I wanted to scar my skin up like that, go right ahead, because he didn't care. Oh, and he said that if Social Services gets involved, it's my problem, not his. Thanks, dad.
He started unloading his truck then, and I followed him. I wasn't going to let him just blow me off like that. I told him that he couldn't blow me off like that, and that it was obvious I had a problem. I told him that I needed him to care, and that he couldn't just do nothing. He said that he was blowing me off because I blew him off, and I asked him when I had blown him off. He walked back inside without answering me.
I followed him silently, and by then I couldn't hold back the tears. I told him that he was my father and that he HAD to care. He said he didn't have to do anything. I asked him then if he would care when I was dead. He just shrugged and walked away.

That was the end of that. I couldn't say anything more to him. That hurt... A lot. Until then, I didn't care what he said. But I mean, that was a low blow, and I have no doubt in my heart that he meant it.
I basically avoided him after that. I needed someone to talk to, so I called a friend of mine and we talked for a little. I also called my brother. Because if anything, he can understand what my dad is like. It didn't help though.

I'm so afraid to trust anyone now. Afraid to let anyone in, after all of that. I'm going back to talk to F later, probably at around 10. He said that he wanted to hear how it went with my dad. I wonder what he will say when I tell him what my dad did? Think he is neglectful? Stick me in a psych ward? Wonder if I'm going to kill myself?
Whatever F does, it can't be worse than what my dad did.

Oh, and yesterday when F was talking to my dad, I guess S and her son were sitting near him and they heard the conversation. So they know I'm a cutter now too. Great.
This morning, I decided that I was gonna wake up at 4:30 and walk to school. I didn't want to see my dad. S told me that she knew about the cutting, and that she didn't know how to deal with it. She tried to defend my dad, and I just shut that down. He doesn't deserve to be defended. He's a fucking asshole.
She said that it hurt her to know that I was cutting, and then asked me if it was because I wanted my dad's attention. WTF?
MY SELF HARM IS NOT FOR ATTENTION. IF IT WAS FOR ATTENTION, I WOULD BE GOING AROUND AND SHOWING EVERYONE MY CUTS AND SCARS. I DON'T WANT ATTENTION!!!!!

I just told her that it was my fight, not hers. I get that she is trying to care and to help, but that was a bullshit way. She then had the nerve to ask me if I would stop cutting. Yeah, right. I'm not gonna stop. I have no reason to stop. But F doesn't need to know that. I'll just omit that part of the conversation with him later.

I'm done. So done. I'm so hurt too. I don't know how I can sit in my classes and pretend to give a shit after all of that. I feel like crying. Just crying. But since F isn't here yet, I can't go talk to him. I think my teachers are getting mad at me too, for missing their classes. I just.. Am I the only one that thinks this is a legit reason to miss class?

I don't know. I can't explain what I feel right now. I can't identify it. I feel so much, and it's all so confusing...

I talked to F. Or tried. Soon after I got there, he said he knew about the cutting and that I had cut not too long ago. My silence confirmed that.
As soon as that happened, he said he would have to call my dad and notify him...
And then he had a security guard and a nurse come look at the cut. They said that it looked deep and that it would require further medical attention.
I said bullshit. It wasn't deep and it was only healing. They said it was about 5 - 6 inches long.
Which, by the way, he told my dad when he called him. Now I wait for the fallout. My dad is going to FLIP when I get home.
I wouldn't doubt that he's going through my room right now. Which means I'll have to get more blades later.
But I'm terrified right now.
If you've ever read anything I write about my dad... He's a psycho. He doesn't take things well.
So.. Here's the lesson I learned from this.

TRUST NOBODY. NONE.

If he doesn't kill me later, I might update. I'm sure he will though...
I'm so scared...

#YOLO

It's pouring outside and I have to walk home. xD
I sooo don't mind. In fact, I'm so very happy about this prospect. Rain and walking? Hell yeah!!
I love the rain.

Also... I might want to mention that I'm walking home in the rain barefoot. xD
#YOLO :D

I feel so low. So upset. So scared. I just want to...

I feel so low.
So upset.
So scared.
I just want to disappear..

Feeling low..

But what else is new?

So I went in to talk to F this morning. Only to find out that he isn't here. He's sick, and he went to the doctor. Which is fine and all. I totally understand.
In my mind.

Emotionally, it's a mess. I can't really even accurately describe it. I feel rejected, embarrassed, angry. I feel guilty too. I was supposed to talk to him about my attendance, which got fixed anyways. But while I was sitting there, S, my old counselor asked me if I wanted to talk. Because she thought I was there waiting for her. I just told her that I was waiting to talk to F, and explained about the attendance, but not the other stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, but I still feel really guilty. I can't explain it, and I don't understand why.
I had my day planned out, and I hate when things change. When things don't go my way.
I'm so stressed out and stretched so thin that I just want to run into a corner and lay there forever. I just want to cry. It's such an irrational reaction. But I can't handle this much stress, I can't do it. I was in such a good mood this morning. Everything was fine. Then just like that, my mood dropped. I just want to go home, lay in my bed, and not think.

I have so much work to do. I have barely done anything for the past few weeks. If I could just get it done and out of the way, everything would be easier. But it's like I sit down and I start to work, but then I can't do anything and I just sit there and stare at the page for what feels like forever. I don't have the work ethic or motivation. I don't have the energy. I just can't focus. My head is screaming out at me that I need to do all these things, because it isn't that hard. But everything else, is just empty. I don't feel anything. I can't think straight. I can't do anything.

I wish everything could end.

Apologies

I'm really sorry about the last post.
I just needed to get all of that off my chest, and writing it is the only way I know how.
So don't feel like you have to read it, because if you don't, I won't be disappointed. Just me complaining.

2 days down, 13 more to go. Well.. 13 more school days. 19 if you count weekends. Still. Getting closer.
I left school in a rush, and I forgot my Math book. And my Spanish.
No homework for me, I guess. >.<"

My day was okay, though. I got through it, and I'm not dead. Yet. I'll be able to answer that question once I'm home.
So tomorrow, I talk to F. I think I'll tell him about everything, but just not mention today's self harm. It isn't lying, it's omitting.
I've also got to talk to him about my absences. Like I saw earlier today that I was marked as an unexcused yesterday for 7th, which is when I was talking to him. So he has to fix it. I went to ask him earlier but he wasn't here today, which I didn't know. So I asked the security guard who I should talk to, and he told me to talk to my AP. I went there, and she told me to talk to F. Go figure. All of that made me late to 6th, and if it isn't fixed, my family is gonna go apeshit. Ugh.. Kill me now?

I also lost my bus pass. Hahahahaha. Funny.
Not.
So it looks like I'll be walking to school for the rest of this week and the next 2 weeks. It's like 4 miles away. Woo! I'm not as upset about that as I should be, but nonetheless, it's still really irritating.

Yesterday I went home and I slept. Like literally, right when I got home. Which was only because I didn't want to think. Worked well enough, but as a result, I got NOTHING done. So yeah. I need to kick this habit.

Aside from all of the above negativity, I suppose it could be worse. I feel less stressed about Chem, though I'm still failing. But the credits I get from WarrenTech next year will cover it, so I'm good. It'll still show up on my transcript as an F, but I can deal with that. I can only do my best. Screw what my family thinks.

I dread every day now, or almost every day. I just find it so hard to get out of bed and even consider the prospect of school and people. Which isn't fun at all, but I'm doing a pretty good job. Don'tcha think?
Anyways.. Yeah.

New Chances?

I talked to a different counselor in my school yesterday. I'll call him F. (weird...) For the first time in a while, I actually have just a little bit of hope.
Not that he can fix everything, and take away all my problems. But he said that he would work with me to find a solution. His straightforwardness and his honesty was probably what made me talk to him. I haven't told him anything, but he asked me to come back tomorrow morning. Unlike with the previous one, he didn't make me feel like I was one in several hundred students he had to talk to. It was just me when I was talking to him in his office.
I originally went in there to talk to him about ACT stuff, because I got a 24. Which would make my index score 106. I think. Which he said was really good, but that I don't think is high enough. I need at least a 30.
Anyways, so I talked to him. I talked with him through almost half of 6th, and all of 7th. Which I thought was really nice. I mean, I can make up the work from 7th, and we weren't doing anything in 6th. But he also offered me another solution.
There is a counselor here at the school, and I guess he's different from the ones I'd been talking to before. I don't really know anything about him, or what he can do for me. But the big thing was that I could talk to him, during school hours, but without parental permission. That right there increases my chances of opening up to him, because I am terrified of my family knowing. It puts a lot of pressure on me that I can't deal with. Even if they are trying not to. It still does.
I'm nervous about talking to F tomorrow morning, because I don't know how much I should tell him. I mean, normally I would say that I'd tell him everything, but does that include telling him about the self harm? If he asks when the last time I did it was, am I supposed to admit that it was today? Because he could take me as being a risk to myself, and then he might have to tell my dad. Which is a no no. So do I admit it? Or do I tell him everything but that? I'm not sure.
I guess I have the rest of the day to think about it though.

I would just like to say hello to my new follower, Caitycat66. I love getting new followers and learning what it is that made them interested in my blog. (:
So, if you're feeling up for it, there's a lovely comment box at the bottom of this page that would love your input. (: Buut, no pressure!

I really need to rant here for a second. So this paragraph will probably just be a jumble of words. If you wish, skip to the next paragraph. Ignore my pettiness. I won't mind.
K makes yet another appearance on my blog. I have English with her every day, and what do you know, we get paired right next to each other. So she walked into the room at the start of class, and the first thing I notice is that her legs are perfect. Like... I think she's lost weight. And I haven't. Fuck me. But not only that, the first thing she says to one of her friends is "I can't let (the security guard here) see me, he always picks on my wardrobe.". For no reason in particular, this pissed me off. So what did I spend the rest of the class doing when I should have been writing my essay? Watching her out of the corner of my eye. Seeing how perfect her legs are, how she's curvy but yet still skinny, how she was way too pretty to ever be my friend in the first place. Comparing her to me. She easily won in every category. Better legs, better stomach, better shape, prettier. She can wear shorts. She doesn't have to worry about people seeing her cuts and judging her. Or about scars on her body. She's PERFECT. I'd give anything to look like her. To look like anyone but me. She has the perfect body. I do not. Simple.

Otherwise, my day has started off kinda okay. I got a few job applications the other day, so hopefully I can get a job somewhere. I really need to start working. I was supposed to be fasting today, but I gave into a little craving. Not much, I promise. I should be able to burn it all of, easy. But no more food.
Everyone I know is either disappearing, choosing recovery, or going somewhere. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for those of you that are recovering from your ED, or getting help, or if you're finding some way to be okay. I'm so happy for you.
But it's made me realize just how alone I am in this. Sure, there might be people that are going through it too, and they might be there to talk to, but not forever. They're going to leave, to move on with their lives. Which is fine. But I need to prepare myself for that, and not get so attached. I need to stop depending on other people. So, with that being said, here goes my journey to that. To closing myself off from people again. I will do this, there is not going to ever be another time. I am going to succeed in being on my own, being strong for myself. I don't need other people.

In other news, I'm grounded for two weeks. Basically, I have to have all 6 of my teachers sign a piece of paper saying I was in class. Every day. I feel like a delinquent. Which I'm really not. And I'm terrified of how much lying I'll have to do in a few weeks. Right now, after everything, I just don't feel like telling the truth is an option. Outside of this blog, I lie so much that sometimes even I forget what the truth may be. I start to believe the lies. I feel sick. Like I am going to puke, just because of the anticipation of the confrontation that is going to happen in a few weeks. 3 weeks feels like SO long to get through, but I just need to do it. One day at a time. I have to. My entire future could be lost in the next 3 weeks. Or it can be made. It's quite a terrifying prospect.

2 nights ago, I went to my grandpa's. just because I wanted to breathe. I wanted a break. Despite being grounded. My dad called me up and started yelling at me because I was supposed to be home and he'd left his key on the counter, which meant that he was locked out. As I was leaving, my grandma started yelling at me. I jumped on her, because I just couldn't take it. I explained to her that I have been trying in school, trying to get my grades up. Only Chem, really. I studied for the last test we had more than I've ever studied for anything, and I still got a D. I did all the worksheets, thought that I actually understood it, and I still barely passed that test. My current average in that class test-wise is a 45%. So what does that say? My only hope for passing that class is the final. If I can get at least a B or a C on the final, I'll pass that class. otherwise, I'll be seeing it in Summer school. Which basically means that my life is over.
Anyways, so I got home and my dad started yelling at me. I can't even remember what he was yelling about, because at that point, I just shut off. It's like a stranger took over. I ran into my room, slammed the door, and  then heard my dad yell that I was just like my mom. I so badly needed to hit something, but I'm really not a violent person. So I started punching my bed. Which my dad added to the fight. So I started punching myself. When I realized that I couldn't hit hard enough, I started looking for either of my blades. Go figure, I couldn't find either of them. It felt like someone was literally ripping out my heart, my insides. Slowly, and painfully. The pain, real or imagined, took my breath away. I remember laying on the floor, curled in a ball trying to hold myself together. Literally. It felt like if I let go, then I was going to break into so many pieces and not be able to be put back together.
I remember wishing I had a gun. I didn't have enough physical strength to cut deep enough to die, and not enough pills.Otherwise, I would have done it. But I didn't have a gun, so here I am. Eventually, I remembered that I had my pocket knife. I normally hesitate upon using it, although I'm not sure why. But this pain, it was like it was going to overwhelm me, and if it did, then I know that I wouldn't have been able to come back. Whatever was left of me would have disappeared. So I made a single cut across my thigh. Deeper than I should have, and for a while I thought I'd need stitches. But I didn't. When that wasn't enough, I made another one across my ribs. So not the best idea I've ever had. But it worked. The internal pain was gone, and I could deal with my cuts.
Yeah, I'm an idiot, I know. But when it comes to things like that, I have no control. Every sense of care goes out the window, and there's nothing but me and the blade. I need to find another way to cope.

Since then, I've just been so emotionally exhausted, that I don't even have the energy to talk to people. I'm literally just sitting in my classes, going through the motions, but I'm not really here. I'm not present. I'm scared of what'll happen in a few weeks. I'm also trying my hardest to prevent it. Pass my classes, not flunk. If only I can do it. I guess we'll find out.

I also talked to Cimiron. Which was complicated, and confusing. I don't have the energy nor time to write about that right now, so I'll save that for another post.
But that was my weekend.
I hope everyone had a better weekend than I did. (:
Happy Monday!

Lost and Broken

Go on
Take everything
Everything that I am
Then punch hit or kick
Leave your mark
I understand

'You tried to say that I left myself open
But you didn't know I was already broken
I told myself that it wouldn't be so bad
But pulling away you took everything I had'
Now there is
Nothing.

To Be or Not To Be?

I feel like too many people know about me. Know about my self-harm, my ED, and all of it.
People that know me, like physically.
Wednesday, I was hanging out with A, who was the one I pushed away wayy back when. I'll have to link the post later, since I can't do it on my phone.
Anyway, I was hanging out with him a few days ago, and I got a panic attack. Pretty much out of nowhere. So what did I do? I got up from where we were sitting and I ran. I ran without saying a word, or explaining why I left. I ran out of the building, trying to get as far away as I could as fast as I could.
In all of that, he happened to see the cuts on my wrist. Despite the magnitude of bracelets I had to try and hide it.
So he kinda figured it out, putting my weird behavior (from that as well as past events) together. Now he knows. I wish he didn't.
I only feel guilty, selfish, scared. I feel horrible for letting him now. I feel selfish for making him deal with me when he has his own stuff to deal with.
I wish I could take back his knowledge of me.
As it is, I've been having a war inside my head, inside of me, between keeping him as a friend, and pushing him away because he knows.
Because he knows my secrets. All of them.
The less people that know, the better.
But I've already pushed him away once.
What kind of person would I be if I did it again? Besides... A small part of me likes having a friend. I don't have any friends here, not in the physical world. Or rather, I have friends - but not the kind of friends I can hang out with and talk to. So I kind of like having him as a friend, but I'm scared of him.
Scared of what he can do. What if he decides that I'm not safe to myself and tells someone? What if he tries to help? He doesn't know how, and I'd only feel worse if he tried to help and couldnt.
There is this war inside of me - and I can't tell what side is winning. My head is spinning, my mind is racing, and I'm stuck in the middle.

My Mother.. And My Brother..

A lot has gone on in the past few days. I haven't written about any of it because, well, the best I can describe it is that I haveb't felt like myself.
I've felt like a different person, and I didn't want to admit it.
But! Alas, here goes. There might be several posts, just while I get it all out there. Everything that's happened in the past few days.
So bear with me.

About 3 nights ago, my brother texted me, just wanting to talk. I was upset and pissed after fighting with my dad. So I told him everything.
I told him how I wanted to run away, how I had overdosed, how I'd wanted to do it again. He offered support, and said he wanted to hang out and just chill with me. Just to get me away for a while.
So that next day after school, we hung out. But there was a guest.
My mother.
If you don't know anything about my relationship with her, or need a refresher, here you go! My dad has a restraining order against her, and it's covering us unil I'm 18. (9 months from now).. So talking to her or having any sort of contact with her is illegal. She can go to jail for it.
But she was there, with my brother. We talked, drove around, smoked some weed, talked some more. It was nice. Relaxing.
So of course my dad didn't know about that.

I can't remember if I've ever written about it here, but my mom and I share some of the same issues.
For one, we're both Anorexic. I read somewhere that tendencies for ED's can be genetic, but still. In a way, it's nice to have her understand, but in another way, it's so triggering. She is so much smaller than me, and seeing her for 3 hours triggered me a lot.
So we'll see if it does any good. Oh, and I'm DETERMINED to weigh less than her. I NEED to weigh less than her. Just for the sake of my sanity.
My ED has made me do some pretty stupid things.
But it was still nice seeing her. Maybe we can hang out sometime again, despite it still being illegal.
So that's my *breif* but interesting encounter with my mother.
Emotional rollercoaster much? =P

I put the pro in procrastinate

Everything is crazy.
It's the end of the year, why wouldn't it be crazy? Turning in late assignments, stressing for finals, worrying about all the last minute things you've got to do before the end of the year.
I've done pretty well with everything, so in terms of that there isn't too much stress. But at the same time, there is. I've been pretty open on my blog, so if anyone reads this, then you probably know all that has been going on with me. Not that anyone really needs to.
This blog is my own little selfish outlet. Where I can rant and rave and nobody can complain. Or I guess you can, but if you don't like it, you don't have to read it.

I talked to my brother last night. He texted me, and I was so upset over my dad. Just everything he's been doing to me, whether he realizes it or not, he's still an ass. And my brother understood that, and he talked to me. It felt nice. I'm hanging out with him today after school, and I'm pretty happy about that too. I miss him. After he moved out, kinda moved on with his life, we stopped talking. For the most part. We don't really keep in touch much anymore, but I'm hoping to change that.
I'm pretty excited to hang out with him, if for no other reason than to just talk.

I've been listening to Demi Lovato's album Demi since it started streaming on the Internet. It wasn't supposed to be released until May 14th, but it ended up getting released early, and I'm so happy. I'm such a Lovatic, even if it doesn't seem like it. She's my idol. I mean, she's been through an Eating Disorder, Self Harm, Verbal abuse, things like that, and she 's still come out on the other side. It's just so inspiring to see her so strong, after everything. I love her.
Here's one of the songs from her album, and I can't stop listening to it. I just love it. <3

I'm addicted to "Two Pieces", "Heart Attack", "Warrior", "Neon Lights", "In Case", "Really Don't Care", "Fire Starter", "Something That We're Not", and "Never Been Hurt". Which is almost all of the songs off her album.
Not all of them, but most of them.

This album is definitely different from her last one. Her last one had more personal songs on it, like Skyscraper and Fix A Heart.
This one has more of the mainstream "pop" style to it, but still, I like it. If you don't that's alright.

I've spent my entire English period doing everything BUT writing the Hamlet Literary Analysis Essay I'm supposed to be writing. (:
Well, for now anyways. And I totally got busted for it, but whatever. That's alright. I really should get to work... So for now, toodles!!
Hope everyone is having a good day! :D

For The First Time In 6 Years..

Now I'm grounded.
Why? Because I had a panic attack in school, like I have so many times before.. And I didn't know how to cope. So I ditched and went home.
The school called my grandma, and my grandma called my dad at work. So he grounded me.
I am so tired of lying.. But I can't tell them the truth. Telling them about having panic attacks and anxiety attacks would lead to telling them about my ED, and that's off limits.
I don't know what I'm going to do.
They're gonna recieve a letter in about 2 weeks that shows all of my absences. There's at least 100. I don't know what I'm going to do..
Everything is falling apart right now.. The "it'll get better's" that I've been telling myself for months?
Fuck it. This isn't better.
This is worse.
This is the beginning to the end of everything.

I Need My Control Back

I feel like everything is out of control.
I have no control on anything, and it's killing me. Literally.
There are 4 weeks left of school, and I am trying to force myself to finish everything. The truth is, I just have no motivation. I'd rather be doing anything else. I know that I get this way when I'm stressed, and I have been turning in assignments, but to no avail.
I can't seem to control my eating. Once I start, I can't stop. It's a total loss of control. There is nothing that can stop me. It's like I'm doing it as a punishment to myself, or to someone else, but in reality, it only hurts me. I'm never going to reach my goals if I keep this up. So as of today, I am starting a liquid fast. I don't care what I have to do to keep it, to make myself follow through with it. I don't care. It is going to happen. No excuses.
My dad is still being an ass. All he ever says to me is something negative. Something I need to do better, or improve, or that I'm doing something wrong. I guess my grandma started calling him about my grades as well. Woo. Just another thing for him to get pissed about.
And... the guilt. That has to be what's killing me the most.
Guilt for reaching out, for asking for advice (over anything), for wishing I could talk to someone. Guilt for existing, for having human needs. Guilt for not helping others more. Guilt for everything. There is not one thing I can remember doing that I don't feel guilty for. It's like an instant reaction, and I've had it since I was a kid.

And throughout all of this, what does my mind keep returning to?
"Ending it is the solution."
Always.
I'm trying to fight, but I'm so close to giving up.
-_-

The End of Everything

I've realized words in my mind that I cannot speak. They are the end. Were they to take form in this world, this physical world, it would be the end of everything.. Everything.
Yet as I try to hold them in, hide them, change them, force them down.. I can feel them beating against my lips. Filling my mouth so full it's nearly impossible not to choke on them.
I see them in the perfectly straight lines I draw upon my arm. In the art of marking myself with the pain.
I see them in my actions, actions that scream words like
Pathetic
Weak
Stupid
Worthless
Ugly
I see them in the way that I walk, one wrong step after another.
I see them - everywhere. Yet I deny them, try to shove them down.
Those 3 words, words of failure, of disgrace, of humiliation. Of weakness.
I will do everything to keep them hidden.
They are not to take form.
They would be the end of me.

I feel less and less like a human being every day.
Less and less like I'm worth anything.
More and more selfish.
More and more scared.
Of everything. Everyone.

When I was younger, and my dad was still married to my then "step-mom", I had a "step-brother". He and I were like best friends, as we were pretty close in age. He was younger, but only by a year.
When we would play, sometimes we'd get in fights. My step-mom would send us to our rooms, and then go talk to each one of us individually to see what happened.
I would never be able to give the same story of the events twice.. And my story never matched up with his. Now, you might think I was just lying or trying to get out of trouble. My step-mom did too. But it was more than that. I honestly could not remember what had happened. Though it was only maybe a half hour before, I would always forget. I don't know if I thought it was unimportant or what, but I could never remember what had happened between my step-brother and I before we fought. Needless to say, I always got in trouble because of it. She and my dad would always think I was lying, hiding things, etc. But I never was. I simply couldn't remember.
It's always been this way. In several different situations, I would find myself looking back to try to remember what happened - only to find it blank. I would know what happened, but I could never recall basic events that led up to it, only the end result.
I thought that was just a childhood thing, something I'd grow out of.
But even now, I find myself in the same situations. Not able to remember simple things that I should be able to. Is there something wrong with me?
Or am I just that stupid? If I'm honest, sometimes it scares me. But most of the time, I just think that I really am that stupid. I don't know if it's something you grow out of or if it's something I'll always have to deal with... But I know it definitely isn't normal.

My brother..

I was walking around the track and my brother showed up with his "girlfriend" and her 8 year old daughter.
The whole situation just made me sad. He said they were walking to Walmart. But, like the brother that he is, we sat in the middle of the track where there was grass, and we kinda talked. Not a lot.
I see my brother, and the little girls' mom, and I feel sad.
She's 8. Both her and my brother smoke (weed and no doubt other things) all the time, and he thinks he's a gangster. He dresses in clothes 3 sizes too big, always all one color (black, red, or orange), and he had a gun hanging from his pants. I wouldn't be surprised if it was real, but I'm not 100% sure.
He carries a knife, and 2 axes on him. He was stoned off his ass.
He thinks he is a gangster, and who knows. Maybe he is. Apparently he works at Burger King, under the table.
Honestly. That is not a life, and I just feel sad for him.
This is who he has become. I have no doubt he will end up dead from something related to gangs.
I can't let myself care, because I can almost guarentee it'll happen and that if I let myself care, it'll be too much. I want him to be a big brother for me, someone I can rely on. But I doubt that will happen, so there's no point in hoping.
I just hope, for the sake of her life, her 8 year old daughter Hayli doesn't have to see it. Doesn't have to see any of the violence. That they don't bring her into their gang stuff.

Sunny Satudays and Good Books

Today is a lazy day. But in a sense, I'm feeling restless.
I didn't get out of bed until 12, which I'm regretting a bit now. I just layed in bed playing games on my iPod.
After that, I got up and went outside for a while to read a book and sit in the sun. (:
Now it's homework time. Which is only kind of working well. I'm trying to turn today into a fasting day. But overall, i'm not stressed (:
I'm enjoying the sun, trying to be productive but enjoying my lazyness, and enjoying the fact that my dad isn't here. ^_^

How is everyone's Saturday? Is it sunny where you are as well? (Wherever that may be xD)

Intro To May

This is a delayed May post.
I say delayed because I was going to post it on May 1, (yesterday) but I just couldn't find the motivation to write. I didn't want to say anything.
So here it is, May 2nd.

It's finally May. Wow. It still feels like it should be January or February. I guess it's true what they say - You may stop, but time doesn't stop with you.
About a year ago, (it will be 1 year on July 1st) I made a goal. A pretty simple goal, if you think about it.
I was going to make it to 115.
Well, now I'm here, less than a month away, and I am nowhere near that.
I'm much to embarrassed to actually admit what I am, but just know it's nowhere near 115. So I guess I will make that my goal for next July. 115. Or lower.
Never to early to start, right?
Or in my case, keep going.

But I'm also going to work on being happier. Among other things. To be honest, so far, this year isn't really starting off too great, personally. But it's only May. Not too late to change that.

I think I'm going to start making monthly goals. And I'll post them at the beginning of the month, and then again at the end of the month to see what I actually accomplish.
So here's my goals for May.
1. Down 12. I want to push myself, but I don't want to make it unachievable.
2. Smile more, stress less. Try to find something to be happy for every day, or most days.
3. Pass all of my classes with at least a C. (Except Chem. All I can hope for is a D.)

So those are my goals for May. At the end of the month, we'll see if I have accomplished any of them (:

That's my Intro To May post (: