Entry 623
I could not be
more frustrated with my life right now!
My Dad’s still in SC with my Grandma, he’s supposed to be back Tuesday,
or Wednesday. As far as Sam and I go, I
have no clue about the future or exactly where we are right now, and I don’t
know if I want to know because that may just ruin my whole perspective on the
situation. I’m finding myself still in
love with him and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. I hate analyzing things so much, but it’s
just like in my nature. I thought about
him all weekend long, something I haven’t done in like 2-3 months. I’ve never stopped loving him, but I thought
I had fallen out of love with him. But
just within the past week it all came back to me and I dunno what to make of
it. I’m trying to protect myself because
I can’t afford to hurt like that again, but there’s so many mixed messages
flying around between us. I just wish I
could be satisfied and happy with the attention and flirting, but when it comes
to him and my heart nothing is ever all that simple. He said he needed to talk to me about “us”
sometime. Plus, for the first time
pretty much since we’ve broken up he called me Liz, and yeh I know it’s stupid,
but just hearing him call me that made my heart melt. Yet I guess from past experiences I can’t
shake the feeling that I’m only setting myself up. I’m so frustrated and angry at myself and I
end up with another heartbreak from all of this I might as well just beat the
crap out of myself as punishment. I had
two dreams about him this weekend and both of them once again seemed so real
like they really happened. Both of them
also had the same plot of us getting back together, I’m not complaining about
the dreams, I’m just hoping I’m not getting my hopes up for another huge fall. I need to restart writing some more
poetry. I have all these emotions and
nowhere to really express them, but paper.
Of course, going back to my old ways of only writing my feelings down
isn’t so bad. There’s just no one that’s
close to me right now, that I trust enough to open up to completely. Naturally I was like that with Sam, but so
much time has gone by and I’ve gotten quite used to writing about them
anyways. It’s just like I said I’m
protecting myself. The first and last
time I did that with him a couple of months after we broke up he spit it all
back in my face. So I have forgiven him,
but it’s really hard for me to forget the feeling of betrayal because the only
reason I did share those things with him was because he told and promised me he
wouldn’t do any of what he ended up doing.
So now he has to work twice as hard to earn that 100% trust he once had
from me. He has gotten just a tad back,
and it may take awhile, but if things continue the way they are between us
he’ll earn the rest eventually.
Personally right now, I prefer pen and paper, it’s how I’ve dealt with
majority of my problems in my life, or at least within the past 5-6 years.
Entry 624
Alright well I
can’t really say much for my life at the moment. I’m not really sure if things have been going
up hill for me, or downhill; in a way both.
There’s much confusion on several things, but at the same time a lot of
the things, I’ve been stressing over have been cleared up and I feel a little
relieved, but not quite as much as I should.
I think I’ll never understand anything completely; I’m starting to
despise my Mom; I’m so angry at her for everything. I know I can’t really trust anyone that much
anymore, but it disturbs me. I used to
be so innocent and sweet. I didn’t
really understand the crudeness of the world in front of me. In the past 5-6 months I’ve put myself
through so many agonizing situations that I don’t think I really even
comprehend the concept of how I got to any of these situations. There’s like a war going on in my life, and
another one only within me. There’s one
going on between what my heart wants, and brain wants in 2 different
situations. One involves Sam, which
pretty much self-explanatory, the other has to do with whether or not I should
maybe go and stay in CA for a bit with Kathy and Keith. Then the constant feuding between my Mom and
I stands as another one. My sister wants
me to actually move to CA with her because she sees how bad it’s getting for me
to stay in that house and she thinks it’d be easier, and I’d possibly be better
off and happier. She says it’s easier
because if my Mom got caught then there’d be a custody battle and they may end
up saying something like Kathy can’t afford to keep me. So I don’t know, it’s all a big jumble in my
brain and too confusing for me to even think about right now. I don’t ever wanna go home anymore, I get
treated like shit every time I am there.
My Dad thinks I lie about everything.
My Mom just lays on her ass all day and night except when she’s working,
or when she has to go and get me and Dad something to eat. I think she’s forgotten how to cook, clean,
and wash clothes. I do practically
everything for myself. By the time I get
home I’m usually exhausted from staying up so late, the previous night doing
things. I do all my homework at school
it seems like. I dunno, I don’t really
have room to complain and I don’t want anyone’s pity. I just…I want to smile and not have to worry
about everything that’s going on. It’s
continuously getting harder and harder for me.
I think I’m starting to become much more frustrated with myself more
than anyone else and that frustration; I’m letting out on my Mom. Or maybe I am just lost about everything and
I don’t think I’m able to figure much of it out anytime soon.
Entry 625
I WANT: My Mom to stop using drugs, to get over her
heart problem, to come back to me, to be my MOTHER! My sister to stay here, to not have to move
so far away. My grandma not to die, to
stop being so sick. For Sam to stop
hurting me, for things with him and his family to improve, his future not to be
ruined by what happened at Staples, him to not need to take medication, him to
be happy, him to never forget me and what we had and be able to find that with
someone else one day.
Entry 626
Ever felt so
lost and confused that the water flows out of your eyes like a river, then once
you feel it’s over, you don’t even realize what you’re so broken-hearted
over? Sometimes I think I’m crazy and I
belong in an institution; I wanted to be happy.
It hurts to smile because I have to force it and I know underneath that
smile is just a girl that’s tearing herself up for little nonsense things. A girl who feels like she’s failed in making
her parents proud of her, who hears her father’s echoing words of, “We may love
you, but we’ll never like you,” and longs for him to love her back and actually
prays for that day to return, but it feels like a lost hope, a lost cause. A girl who has deep dreams, but knows that
they shall never occur because of past mistakes that shall affect her for
eternity. But after all I am just a girl
whose struggling with the trials and tribulations of becoming and introducing
the girl I am to the woman I’ll be. I
may be sixteen and been having my period since I was 12, but that doesn’t mean
I’m all grown up, by no means. You can
see a lot in peoples’ eyes, some are filled with life, happiness and the key
secrets of obtaining these precious things, people with eyes like that have
souls, and have a reason, a will to continue living. Others there eyes reveal a secret, a secret
of loneliness, no hope, the emptiness that fills the inside so that it forces
it to be let out before their faces through tears. These others are like me, they feel no need to
continue through life for they already lost their souls long ago when they lost
their ability to feel and gave up, and let themselves die. All of us are already dead, our eyes began to
show it the day we stopped feeling. I
already hate this world enough, and each day I continue to live in it, I
despise it more and more. I despise it
more because each additional day is filled with more cruelty and violence and
less beauty as before. Soon there will
be no beauty left in the world, nothing left to admire, to cause inspiration,
or make your heart feel like it shall burst if you don’t express it right then
and there. Therefore I can’t allow
myself to live in a world where true beauty is becoming extinct. Without beauty there can be no true love,
without true love there can be no sadness, or no emotions at all; proving a
world without beauty will soon become hopeless as it already is. The light is melting out of my life, and the
darkness is creeping in. It’s scary to
have no light and be in the dark, but it’s absolutely horrifying to be stuck in
the dark and be alone. It’s not as if
I’ve been keeping it all to myself. I
have talked to someone. I attempted to
explain to them what was going on inside me, but I don’t believe they
understood exactly what I was saying. I
guess it doesn’t really matter one way or another. I still have an unbelievable amount of
thoughts to get out and analyze thoroughly, but I’m full of sleepiness, so I
think it best I rest for now.
Entry 627
Sometimes when
I feel the knife slide across my skin, I pray for the courage to press down
hard enough to release myself from it all.
I do cause a little scratch here and there at times; it helps when I see
the blood flowing out it makes me feel as if the pain is seeping out with
it. I must be crazy, actually I don’t
believe I was ever sane. “I’m fucked up
in the head,” remember as Sam once called me, or how about, “a bit disturbed,”
which I’ve heard from a few people such as, Haley and Lewis. Those statements made about me by my friends
are the reason I choose not to tell anyone about this. No one knows I still cut myself, and no one
will ever know unless of course I ever get up enough courage to press down hard
enough, then I guess it will be obvious.
I tell myself I don’t trust people, that I don’t trust this world in
general. I have faced the harsh reality
of this world and what I saw didn’t upset me, nor did it scare me, but I just
didn’t like it. I’m trying not to make
it seem as if I’m some narrow-minded, primitive individual, but what if that is
what I really am? The fact is I’m not
completely sure of who I am, but I have a pretty good idea, or at least more of
an idea than other teenagers my age.
Sometimes when I cut myself I make sure it’s where no one will see it. Majority of the time it’s around my chest
area. Usually the area I get compliments
on at that, well that and my hair and every so often my eyes, but the ones that
comment on my eyes are usually the romantics at heart, or want a quick way to
jump my bones. It’s not like I have
anything against sex. I mean right now I
believe I’m more sexually frustrated than ever before. I’m 16 and still a virgin, but yet my actions
classify me as a whore. I look at myself
in the mirror sometimes often while I am holding a knife, and feeling the cool
metal scratch softly across my skin, and I think deeply, I make an attempt to
reach deep into my subconscious and discover the things I hate about myself
only to cause more anger and pain. I
stand there and almost study myself, I wait for the tears to come, but they
never do. It’s then at that moment that
I have no feelings, no soul, no life. I
may be living, but I really died long ago.
The sad part is, I don’t even think it matters to anyone. I’m so good at hiding it, it’s almost
scary. It’s almost like I have somehow
developed multiple personalities. I
haven’t had the slightest idea of what all of this is. In the beginning I tried to find things to
blame for it, and I got the idea that if I clinged to those problems then I’ll
have an excuse to be this way. It was my
Mom’s problem for awhile, but my Mom hasn’t smoked “stuff” in like 3-4
months. Then Sam and I breaking up, but
that shouldn’t matter anymore especially if we’re still going to have sex
together. Not that I’m really fond of
the idea since I really don’t trust him that much and when I’m hearing so many
different things he’s said from others, I don’t know what he says half the time
is a truth or a lie. Amy says he’s just
using me for sex, Helen says I shouldn’t, he’s told her about all the supposed
times, he’s had sex and done all these things with other girls, but I just
don’t think I care anymore. I know I’m
going to regret him being my first or maybe even doing it with him altogether,
I can guarantee that, but I just don’t want to die a virgin…haha. I’m going to see my cousin Bill tomorrow,
he’s 30 something I have a deep admiration for him like I do for my brother,
Mel. Bill and I have a lot in common I
look up to him so much. I love talking
to him one on one, we have some of the best conversations, and they’re actually
intellectual which I enjoy very much!
It’s rare to have a conversation that actually challenges your
intelligence and where the person actually listens and takes into consideration
what you’re saying and doesn’t sit there and think of the next thing they’ll
say to you to convince you they’re right and their opinion is the only one that
matters while you’re talking. That’s why
I chose not to participate in arguments anymore and just tell the other person
what they want to hear so they’ll shut their ignorant, closed-minded mouth
up. I guess it all is a part in maturity
in realizing the psychology of things, similar to the above statements, involving
the human mind. I know I tend to be
wordy when I write, but without words we have really nothing, so I chose to put
as many as I in my sentences so I can help pull the reader into what I’m
feeling and thinking. Maybe I won’t
necessarily even live long enough to see others lay their eyes upon this. I guess that’s why I share some of my most
intimate secrets and I don’t hold back anything. Once my pen touches the paper my hand just
keeps going and going. I do have the
small hope though all this ink isn’t being put to waste, and one day at least
one person will read these words and hopefully they’ll somehow affect
them. I think it was my friend, Heather
who once asked me how I can find this much in my life to write about. At the time I gave a little laugh toward the
question and shrugged it off. Then for
some reason I began to think about that question and I scanned through all that
I had written, not just in here, but in my old journals as well. Then I realized I don’t just write about my
life, I write about everything, I write about all of my thoughts, everything
that happens, my “friends” my opinions of them, and everything else. Although I have succeeded in getting myself
out of depressed moods it’ll only last for awhile, it returns soon enough, I
promise, I must be crazy, huh?? Anyone
else who sees this will probably think so at least, I think I already said that
earlier but I don’t believes it matters all that much.
Entry 628
On last
Tuesday,