The Dark and the Light

I want to write about something happy. I really do. But I'm not happy, and that would be worse than pretending; that would be false. My world keeps being shaken, turned upside down. I don't even know if I feel the events separately anymore. Just a continuing, lasting numbness with periods of intense grief. I'm trying not to think about it, trying not to cry. Because I know the pain that will come...and I'm afraid that once I start, I'll never stop. I don't like to cry in front of anyone. My family has rarely seen it since I was a teenager. And it would take a complete meltdown or catastrophic event for me to show someone I don't know well my tears. I'm an emotional person and talk about feelings more than facts. That's true. But I keep a lot to myself. I hold back, stay quiet...and deal with it on my own. Alone. No one knows. I protect the people I love from myself. And protect myself from the questions and criticism and lack of understanding. Or I just need space and I hide in my shell. I can shut down, keep my face blank and be calm. It's protection, so I can cope and deal with what needs to be done. But it's not indifference. Because I feel TOO much and I need a way to get through it. I can't lose control. Not me.

I don't want to play the victim. I don't want to blame others or get defensive when I feel attacked. I don't want to hurt anyone. But I have. Not on purpose. If someone hurts me in some way, I just want them to understand MY pain. I don't seek revenge. And this is my life. It's not a game. I don't make up the rules...I just keep trying to survive it.


I have life. And I am grateful for so many things. I'm not trying to waste it. I'm trying to be worthy of it. Make a positive difference in this world. But so often I think of what they (those who are lost) would do with it. That's the thing...I know who has it worse, and I would do anything to take away their pain. I can't help but feel it. And those who have no life left...I would give them mine. Because I love them. And I want them to have all they deserve, more life.

But they're gone. Never to return. That's the hardest part - the finality of it, the gone forever. I miss them all...and I can't let go. How can he be gone? Why is she not on this earth? She belongs here. I can't believe he's gone. It's Christmastime. It gets harder every year...more holes. We're left with only the memories. But...we have no choice. We deal. Keep moving on.

Happiness? Blue October tour in the spring. Friends who love me. Family that wants me around. Helps. I do my best. And here I am. In the sun...

Christmas Presence

I'm going to try to stay in the present for this one. Talk about how I feel now, today, about things happening in my life. Maybe not specifics...because this is just for me. To get it out. I tried to keep it in, keep it to myself. Away from those who would worry. Away from those who would use it against me. Trust is so very fragile, so easily broken. Sometimes there are only cracks - a misstep, a harsh word. Those fractures can be mended...with work. But if the entire thing is shattered, there's no coming back from that. Not for me. And those that I've hurt - I'm truly sorry. I've tried to forgive...and I mean you no harm. But if I can't have you in my life anymore, there's a reason. You hurt me...and it still hurts, right now. You betrayed me, used my weaknesses or my secrets against me for your own purposes...and I can't forget that. You abandoned me because I didn't do what you wanted or didn't change enough or in some way did not fit your image of me. And I can't live like that. Those are my reasons. There are always reasons. I say what I mean. And I react to others' actions...and my own emotions. I never said it was good.

This isn't supposed to be an explanation for anyone. I still have this need to be understood. For someone to say, "Oh, I see why you acted like that, why those words upset you. It makes sense to me too." I have to stop it. I've learned a lot. And the pain is still with me. I can talk about it because this is my blog, my page. My property. As is my Facebook page. No one has the right to tell me what I should or shouldn't post. I have my reasons. And I'll explain it to you if you ask. Explanations. You'd think people would know me by now. How many actually see ME?

It can't matter. The future's unseen and the past has seen too much. Where am I right now? Afraid. Afraid that my grandfather is going to die...because the nursing home will just do the minimum to keep him "comfortable" rather than leave the I.V. in him until he starts eating again. It's not their decision! My mom will fight...I know that. You don't give up - you do Everything you can to help, to heal, to fix. If you can't do anything more physically, you pray. You don't just stop in the middle. You DON'T give up on someone you love.

I understand that death is a part of life. That it's inevitable for all of us. That at times we even want it. No more pain, no more fighting a losing battle. To gain peace & freedom. I know. And I know that no matter how much medical care or prayers, people & animals still die. My birthday wish was for my dog to be healthy...and she died on my birthday. I know that was the only way for God to make her whole again. I know that. And I gave her my day...it was all I had left to give. And despite the sadness in knowing she spent her last hours alone in that hospital, I'm glad my parents didn't have to make the decision to put her to sleep. Only the decision resuscitate her. Keep trying til the end. I love her and I want her back. But my dog is gone. And life is not the same.

It's hard finding hope in this world...seeing what the world has become. What's the point of striving for a future when you know it will be filled with pain? A better life? What if this is as good as it gets? I keep trying...but I can't see the sunshine yet. I'm grateful for what I have and those in my life. I just need to know that I matter as much. Maybe I'll never have someone who puts me first, who is willing to do whatever it takes to be with me. Maybe all I'll ever get is pieces, limits, conditions...never whole. But maybe I can have the life I want. It's possible..

I have to let this out. Because it's what's torturing me now. I'm afraid. Terrified that what happened last year will happen this year. That he'll pop up and smack me down again. I'm waiting & waiting for the next slap. It's coming. It always comes, doesn't it? Maybe not him. Maybe one of the others. Some people enjoy watching others fall. Cry, be beaten. With words. It hurts as much as fists. There's always someone...every year. It's Christmas. And I have to fall apart. The 29th is hard enough - for all of us. Why did I need that? Is it always those we love who hurt us the most? Not out of anger...out of glee. Power. I said I'd leave him alone, I apologized for my part in it. He came after me. Do you remember? The words on my page. I remember the words on his. Do you understand? Do you understand how I'm not me like this? I'm part of the cycle now. I want my friend back. And I'm terrified of him. Would he laugh? Or would he be sorry? I can't look at him. I'm sorry. This makes me weak...and I hate being weak. I will get past this. But God, please protect me. I don't think I could survive it again.

And this is why I don't trust. Why I pull away from those who truly love me. The few who have proven that they can be counted on - ALWAYS. I love you. I do. I give you my heart and all the praises in the world. You know I'd do anything for you. I'd take away your pain, give you my life. I keep your secrets, protect you. And you, so many of you have kept mine. But. But I know it's possible for those you trust most to turn on you. For those who said they'd never leave you to find something better. Everyone goes away...eventually. Even me. I should not be relied on for all the answers, the support, the help. I won't be there. I can't anymore. I'll disapoint you. Or maybe I'll go away and start taking care of myself instead of everyone else. Put me first. Then I'll be the one who abandons. I'll stop promoting...stop posting for all. Because you don't even SEE me. That's how it feels. My perspective...on the expectations of friendship. But maybe I'm wrong. I don't understand human nature so much. I'm not needed anymore? When my usefulness is gone? You know my name. It matters to me - that you acknowledge me, don't forget me. I want to be seen. Not just one place...all places. As a person. For who I am. It matters. But I'll live without it. Because that's what I do. For the good of the people. Keep my needs quiet. I won't be here forever. But they'll live on. All of my love to you all.

I miss...him. And that's another story that had to end. I pray for peace for him. Lots of hockey fun. I remember.

I have other fears, worries. Pushed to the back of my mind at the moment. Guess I couldn't stay completely in the present after all. I don't have that ability. Can't forget a single thing. Can't keep hoping & wishing. I'm a realist...I hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

And maybe I should say nothing at all. It helps to write. Here, not in a journal. But this won't be forever. It all ends sometime. I'm here for now. Hold on to me while you can. I need it.


I have so much to do.

As I lay...

As I lie here in my childhood bed, in my childhood room, waiting for sleep to take me...I'm thinking of how much has changed. In my life, certainly, and in life in general. I'm not the person I was. Many of us aren't. Things change you...some for good, some for bad. And I can't say it was worth it. That if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't be who I am now. I don't want to be who I am now. I want to be better. Some things just have no reason.

Went to visit my grandparents yesterday. I want to cry. Already exhausted from the worries, the sicknesses. Anxiety. Driving. Hospitals. Elevators. He was sleeping...not alert, not who I know him to be. So small, so old.

I'm too tired write any more.

Milestones

I don't feel like being honest or baring my soul. I give too much away. Many give back, but...why isn't it enough for more than a moment? Or a few hours, or a day? It's like I need to constantly be refilled with compassion and attention and approval. Although, I figured out, it's not really approval that I need (because I'm going to do what I want no matter what anyone else says). It's acknowledgment. A need to be seen and heard and accepted. To try to relate to me and understand. Believe that what I feel is real and serious for me. That no matter how stupid or crazy it sounds, they won't laugh at me.

I have high expectations about things. I try hard. I think people are worth the effort. I think feeling content with your life and making time for the people you care for is more important than money or a career or anything else. I believe that having a child is the greatest gift ever known...and nothing supersedes that. But that's how I feel. What is true for me. I'm very possessive and protective and hold on tightly to things that are important to me. Emotions rule me and that's what connects me to every object in my life. Things will always matter, I will always love. Losing it is a death. I exert so much control in order to PREVENT something bad from happening. Because I know how I'll feel if it does. I don't exaggerate...there are reasons. Being forgotten or replaced or betrayed is a devastation I cannot describe. I want too much. I feel inferior. Not jealousy, but insecurity. Fear. Confusion - why them and not me? Sometimes there's no reason. But I need a reason. I don't understand people. I suppose most don't understand me.

But I try. I always try harder than the last. Don't give up. Am I strong? I guess. But for how much longer? Does anyone even understand how much this hurts? Day by day. If you can say that every day's a blessing, then you've never been cursed. If you can say that life is a gift and be grateful that you woke up this morning, then you don't really know what it feels like to be dead inside...to feel it leaking out, trying to smother you. Is that a gift? Take it back. There's peace in sleep. Sometimes. You don't know. But WE do. This is how we exist, cope. Live. And you think us weak...

I don't have the energy to take care of everyone else anymore. I'm having the bad day...why are YOU crying? Why do I have to console you and tell you I'm ok to make YOU feel better? Tired of the guilt, pushing myself too hard, getting sick. I'm not responsible for anyone else's emotions or reactions. I'm sorry if you worry about me. I'm sorry I can't be what you expect or want. But I worry too, about everyone. I'm just told to stop. I can't. I want to feel better. It doesn't feel better. No more pretending. I can't protect you from me. I downplay situations a lot. Only say what needs to be said. Vulnerable - and I say too much. No one has seen me at my lowest...I'm not online then, phone off. I can't write, don't want to speak. Barely breathe. What you see is me on the way up. Scary? *shrug* That's just life, right? Not everyone can handle it. Please walk away or take a break...don't criticze and make it worse. Or pat me on the head and say it will be ok (it's NOT and you can't make that promise). Please just listen. Be there - prove it. Don't test me or push my buttons. I will push back. And then you'll hate me. But I'm tired of being the nice one. The giver, forgiver. Always there no matter what anyone says or does to me...good or bad. That's what people believe, and I let them. I let myself be relied on and used. Because I cared about them. I expected the same loyalty back. But it doesn't exist. And somehow I'm the bad guy if I don't take them back. If I shut them out, there's a reason. And they know it. They just don't think what they did was wrong enough. It was. I can't trust. You showed your true self...and I believe it now. Actions speak. But I don't hate anyone.

I can forgive, I can let things go. If you apologize, show remorse, accept my willingness to work things out. If I can look at the situation differently or get past it for ME. For my own healthiness. Then it can end well. I did that. I forgave and let go - all in the course of a night. So I could feel better and enjoy the show (& of course the apology helped later). But it wasn't about that. I felt the way I felt and I had to acknowledge it, accept it, decide not to let it use me, and get past it. Nothing goes away, nothing forgets. But everything doesn't have to hurt forever.

I can't change myself. I can change parts of me. Improve, adapt. But I'll always be me inside. Parts that no one will ever get to see. We all have secrets don't we? I keep them. That won't change. Some things are too important, some lines should never be crossed. It's all about right and wrong in the end. I'm not always good...but I'm not often bad. Don't look at just one side of me...or you'll be disappointed. I'd give you the moon, but "I'm worth more than the stars." I have to know that I matter.

So, milestones. The biggest one was achieving a weight goal...getting to a number I hadn't reached in almost 5 years. Since my aunt died. But I'm still up and down. Well, maybe I'll get my curves back again. Not that I had them long to begin with. But it was nice. When you've always been skinny, with clothes that didn't fit, maybe you can't see that as beautiful. The way other people do. I'll admit, someone who's healthy and in shape is physically attractive. But underweight is not healthy. I want a womanly figure. So...

The concerts, many musicians. Proud. Blue Blue Blue. Yeah. Friends. Being appreciated. Thank you. Seeing one of my favorite actors in person...watching him do something that makes him truly happy. So many good memories. The writing paid. I worked harder than most people know...without a job.

Some bad ones too. Deaths, sickness, financial failure. My own issues. But...graceful dancing still.

Let's have the rest of the year be better than those past, huh?


Happy Holidays??

Angels

"A vampire or a victim, it depends on who's around."


I want to be better. I can be better than this. Not health-wise....that I don't know. But emotionally. Or behaviorally. As a better person. I want to say "nicer", but I am nice. Just not every day, in every situation. Isn't that too much to ask? Even of myself. And I can't be nicer for others because that's just letting myself be used, controlled, having no judgement for myself. I have to have control - so I feel secure. So I know that my life is my own. And I don't have to live based on anyone else's standards. I don't have to suffer at the hands of anyone else or stay in an environment that's unhealthy for me. I need this. For me.

I took a CBT assessment today (Cognitive Styles Test - Android app). It was accurate and in some parts, surprising. I scored low on passivity and external control - which is good because it means that I stand up for myself, take control of situations, and don't let others take credit for my work or blame me for something that wasn't my fault (or they did wrong). On the other hand, I scored high on perfectionism, anxiety, and blaming myself (or others) for not meeting certain standards. I try to see the best in things and maybe I see too much of what could be...and what I perceive should be. I'm too dependent on others for approval and support and I avoid saying or doing something for fear that it will upset someone or be taken the wrong way. Nothing I've ever done in my life has been to spark controversy or debate. I see the world through my own senses and reasoning and speak from my heart. Right or wrong. All I ever wanted was understanding...or at the very least, acceptance. For who I am now, for who I was then, for who I will be. Not pity or conditions - "well, I do accept you...but if you did this or changed this.." "I do understand, I've been through it. But you need to do it this way..." That's not accepting ME, that's not understanding ME. Or you'd already know the right thing to say. I've already told you...

I get it. People want to help. Maybe they only know one way or think their way is the right way. I think my way is the right way too - for ME. I don't expect anyone else to live my life choices. It could possibly work for someone else; people say I help them or inspire them just from sharing my thoughts. They help me by showing me I'm not the only one. But I don't tell people what they should do. It's not my life. If you're an adult you should be responsible and able to make your own choices. Guidance is fine, asking someone's opinion, venting to a friend. All good - if that's what THEY choose. Don't force it on them or put them down for not doing it your way (or even choosing not to listen). Ask why, figure out why, take time to understand. Pay attention to the little things, it matters. But no one has to listen to me either. I just know what I feel. And I'm just talking to myself anyway.

I know my faults and I've never lied about who I am. I admit when I'm wrong, no matter how much it bruises my pride. I'm too sensitive, I explain too much, I'm moody and emotional. When I have a bad day or I'm in pain or someone does something I consider wrong or hurtful to me...I'm not nice. I'm irritated and distant and defensive. Some would say I have a right. And I do have a right to feel my own emotions. It's what I do with them that matters. Maybe I can be mean with my "eye for an eye" mentality, but to me that's just arguing - getting the words in my head out in the open. You'll never hear me call someone a name or list their "flaws" and secrets and ridicule them. Some things are just wrong. But not everyone thinks that kind of thing is wrong. They think I'm wrong for saying something at all. I was "asking for it for a long time, just begging for it." Do you know what that sounds like? How it feels to be told you're such a failure to someone you care for? To be called all the bad words in the book? While everyone watched. And I wasn't supposed to be upset. Because it was the truth (as they saw it)..."and if you can't count on your friends to tell the truth, who can you count on?" Maybe the one who pitied the "poor" band member for becoming my friend online last year? Or the one who told me to go ahead and keep worshiping my "false God" so I can continue to be exactly the way I am? Have a nice life. Or the girl who told me I should be slapped for being too sad about my dead aunt? Or the one who called me an imposter (on my group page - you do NOT touch what belongs to me) because I pulled myself out of a deep depression and had a "happy" day watching tour videos? Those are the people I should count on? All those who called me crazy for working so hard for a band they claim to love...or saying I'm not good enough, I don't count because this person does everything better or that person acts more "normal"? Just because once upon a time they told me they cared? Not the ones who stood up for me against the constant abuse, who called me to make sure I was ok on my worst days, who literally held my hand and encouraged me, told me I wasn't all the bad things in the nasty messages I get, the ones who are happy to see me...prove they love me and that I'm worth the fight. I shouldn't listen to them because they're just telling me what I want to hear. Nice things aren't true. No - they are telling me what I NEED to hear to believe in myself. Because if you understand at all the way depression and low self-esteem works, you know it's hard for us to tell it to ourselves. And whether something's true not, there are ways to say it. And because I won't ever be able to forget what happened 2 years ago, a year ago, 20 years ago...I'm going to remember the way the words looked laid out on the page or the way your face looked or the room we were in or what music was playing. I hate having all these images in my head (& the emotions to go along with the memories) but it's how my brain is. I'm a Cancer.

And no, I'm not "friends" with them anymore. I know who I can trust and I know who I can't. And who will never really see me...or like me. Sorry for all I've hurt, but you hurt me too. Stay off of my page if you don't like my life. And I've never listed names..why? Few people know the facts behind my thoughts. Protecting people who would prefer I disappeared off the face of the planet? No...I just keep things to myself. Some people just look at me and make up stories about who they think I am. Or that's how it seems sometimes...if they don't know me. I'm still learning. And I'm not a people person. The thing with me is, I will love you forever and find all the good things about you no matter your personality or flaws. If you overreact, I can understand. If you cry, I can relate. I'll support you and encourage you and remember all of your favorite things. If we disagree, fine. If we argue, maybe I'll be mad at you, give you the silent treatment...but you'll still be there in my life. BUT if you betray me or lie or deliberately hurt me (or someone else I love) that's it. I could try to get past it...I always try. But if you continue to put me down or make your friends my enemies. And not appologize or talk it out, work through it...how can I forgive? And even if I do, how can I trust that it won't happen again? That you really care and respect me when you've already made it clear that you resent me and believe I have failed? I don't really understand why someone would get mad because I won't be their friend when I know they don't like me. What's the point? My worth is sand to you...


I'm tired now. But it made me feel better to write. I was angry. But I'd rather be that than upset. Anger goes away. These other scars don't. Mostly it's 2 men on my mind. But like always, one bad memory brings up another...and another. I already explained why I can't just let go of things and move on in my other blog post. And if the sight/sound of someone's name or looking at their picture fills me with panic and sickness and pain, I can't keep them close to me. No matter how good of a person they are or how many mutual friends we have. I have to take care of myself just a little bit. Listen to my intuition. It's important. I can only give so much. My heart is broken and it has limits. I won't apologize for making the right choice for myself. I have to live with myself. You can walk away.

I miss you Aunt Star. I miss my Caoimhe. I miss Lazy baby. I want you back...
The pain is so much. I just wonder why. What's left? I'll try to be better, for you. Because you loved me. And I'll never stop loving you. I don't stop.

Angels

Random musings. Trying to take control.

I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. I guess "supposed to" doesn't matter. What is, is. I miss my dog. I don't know how to not need her. I want her back...how many times have I said that the past 2 months? I lost count. I wasn't really counting. I need her. How do I live without her? The world still doesn't make since. I had a dream again. That she came back. She was "dead" for 7 days, wherever they kept her (looked like those slide out things in the morgue...or the crypt in "National Treasure"). A box. But not like the box she's in right now, her ashes. Metal, she was whole. Had scratched on it from the inside...that's how they found out she was still alive. It seemed normal. She was home. Had an operation on her stomach, and it was whole again - not "separated". Of course the dream didn't last. I woke up. August 18.

I'm down again. But honestly, it's kind of better than that middle place I was in. I hate that middle place - not up, not down. It's not the same as being "stable". Stable feels good, safe, healthy. This is when something bad happens and you should be down, but the meds won't let you fall...or cry. I know it's what they're supposed to do, but sometimes you need to cry to release. Antidepressants don't take away the pain or fear or troublesome thoughts. They just keep your moods from fluctuating crazy and send "feel good" signals to your brain (ie. seratonin). But nothing in this world is going to make me feel good about someone I love dying, or my friends in pain. My heart hurts for them. And if the hurt has nowhere to go...you feel trapped inside of yourself. And happiness? I'm too tired, too worried to be that up. Can't let myself be happy when I'm this terrified about the future. I have no income...I had to borrow over $800 for rent from people who are struggling themselves. Am I supposed to be happy about that?

I need a job. Technically my column on Examiner.com is contract employment since I had to submit info for taxes. But after 9 months and 24 articles (which take me 3-5 hrs, including research and verifying info, links) I have not received a cent. Need about $10 worth of more page views to make it to the $25 mark (min for payout). Do you know what you can do with $25 when you're broke? I was hoping one of my friends or contacts would give writing a try and use me as a referral. The $50 bonus would guarantee payment. But I'm on my own. A lot of people help, they do. And I'm grateful. Because this is important to me. It's just not enough.

I have to get something that won't trigger anxiety (no retail - I still have nightmares). I need a job right NOW because I need money. But I'm not physically healthy right NOW. So what do I do? I do what I always do. But maybe, maybe if I can find the one that brings me joy just to read the ad, I can do this. Be safe & happy & healthy. Content and ABLE. I've applied to some music/social media/writing jobs. It's what I want. Where I am right now. I think about selling online again, make some extra money, like so many of my friends are doing. Guilty...not lazy - I just can't put my heart into it right now. Can't sew with anxiety, don't want to design right now. Soon, just not right now. What do I do? I have to push harder. I just need more time. And time ran out months ago. No more UC. There are options, has taken weeks, but... I'm doing what I have to do. I follow through.

Speaking of...
#AMIA - I have typed that so much the past few months...I'll never forget those letters :) Blue has great letters. We all get it. The new album is...intense. Emotional, powerful. And musically dynamic. I think they've reached a whole new level with this. Everyone's saying this is the best musically. I can't disagree. There's something very special about it. We felt it even before the singles were released...when all we had were the radio samples. And it's true. It is special. And heartbreaking and angry and loving and hopeful. I can't say I enjoy the explicit (and sometimes mean) language, but that's just me. I don't listen to stuff like that in general, never did. BUT I have opened my mind (and embraced my darker side) the past couple years, so I can adapt and accept, even enjoy. I admire his honesty and courage, always. I'm a contradiction myself. And of course it helps that I expected the album to be as it was. If you read/listened to any interviews, reviews, tweets, FB posts, or just paid attention to the band in general this past year...well, there were no secrets as to what the theme would be. Listening to it is a different matter, and it did take me a little bit to get past the personal and hear it as a music album. The whole thing has an 80's feel to me (which I suspected when The Chills was first debuted on 101X). Not really my genre, but I love music so I can appreciate mostly anything. I love the new sound. It's different, it's pretty, it's hard-hitting, it's just so so cool.

I thought about doing a review for Vivogig but I think I have to keep my personal thoughts to myself. Too many mixed emotions, too much drama already from fans. I'm not getting involved. I know this scene all too well. And I'm truly sick of it. People lose sight of what's really important. Get involved in other people's business, people they've never met or barely know. Choosing sides when there are no sides, just people trying to live their lives & survive, work out their problems between themselves. I just pray that no one gets physically hurt. Emotionally, I can't stop it. I can have compassion even if I don't agree with something or someone. I know enough to know there's so much more to everyone. I accept the bad and embrace the good. And I will continue to support the BAND no matter what. There are more people involved here, families. I respect them, I care for them. I've been through it all and I'm still here, right? I don't give up even during the darkest times.

I can't help but think about the past. Despite our common "enemy" (and how I wish he wasn't. But that's done)...this album sparks certain traumatic events from a different point of view (coming from the woman). The last line in the voice recording at the beginning of The Flight...those are almost the exact words I heard last December (along with many many more). Needless to say, it cut me deep...again. Like a stab. Or a slap. Cold. You flinch when certain words are being thrown at you. Public humiliation. Private pain. And you thought physical abuse is the only way to get a beating? Cycles, cycles, cycles.

But, I'm trying to get past it. I hope he can. And I pray that little girl is no longer put in the middle. She's the most important thing. Two loving parents. I pray that's all she knows.

Those are just my feelings. Not put on anyone. I just have to write. It lessens the terror a little bit. I pray for me too. Because I'm not well. I need to stop pretending I am. My heart to yours. Take me as I am. And give back the same. I deserve the whole, not just the pieces. I'm living. It's all.

I had a dream...

The world lost the most beautiful soul. But I have to believe that she's still out there somewhere. I had a dream that she came back...because that's what I want. But it didn't make things better. Because she had to leave again. Waking up was not pleasant. Maybe it will get easier in time, and I'll cherish these moments. Dreaming about my aunt was painful at first, but now it's a comfort. Maybe seeing my dog alive again, feeling her presence, touching her soft fur, will become one of those moments. A familiar face to guide me. The love outshining everything else...

I wonder if birthdays will feel the same. I gave her my day...I let her have peace. I would have done anything for her, given my life. But all I had to offer was the day God gave me life. My prayers. He couldn't heal her earthly body, so he fixed her the only way He could. I know. But I still want her here. I'm already not a big fan of getting older, being put on the spot. Having all that attention on me is hard...although easier now that I'm not as shy. But people still mistake my age. And I'm forever fearful of getting "that look" that says I'm crazy, I can't really be that old. Looks can be deceiving. Too many people don't look beyond the surface, only assume what they expect you to be. Don't look at the details, don't trust their intuition, don't get to know you before judging you. Talking behind your back. Putting you into a category you didn't ask for. People should really be thankful that I'm a nice, quiet person...I could start wars with all the stuff I know. What I've seen...about me, about others. I don't forget. And just because you delete a post when someone calls you on it doesn't mean they didn't already make a copy, a record for themselves. Remember that. It's better to be my ally than my enemy. Look at all I give, look at who I know. You're burning bridges by treating me (or someone I care about) unfairly. Being honest does not mean you have to be cruel. And it's pretty foolish to expect to remain in our lives after something like that. Especially with no apology, no explanation, no effort to work things out. Cutting ties because you're mad, because someone didn't take your advice or has a different opinion than you. Why are you better? Is it really worth it? Is it that easy to walk away? I guess if it is, they weren't strong enough to have me. Beliefs don't change. I can't trust someone who I can't trust.

Enough rambling. I've just been thinking of things. Feeling angry. A year, 2 years...I need to let it go. But I can't. And now I know why. I'm an emotional person, and every event in my life is tied to an emotion. So when I think of it again, I'm feeling what I felt the first time, like it's happening again. And no, it's not a choice and I can't just stop. All the years of being told to let go of the past, stop dwelling on it, move on. I could never do it, as much as I tried. But I'm not weak, I'm not less than others. I'm just made differently. I was meant to hold on, to love, to remember the special moments. The emotions. I don't know why it's always a bad thing. And even though I hate reliving the bad memories or mistakes, the unreasonable worries and doubts and fear, it's part of me too. And we have to learn from the past, it's what shaped us. Whether we like it or not. And sometimes memories are all we have left of someone. I'm holding on to that.

I'm tired. And scared. And lost. My heart is heavy with grief, my mind is cluttered with worries. They're mine. I'll figure them out. Step by step by step.

Nothing more to say. Just ask if you want to know. And don't underestimate me. There's more in me than you'll ever know. And it's my turn to speak. Listen.



13-23-33

Fueling the Fire

I felt the need to write lately, but I didn't know what to write. I'm having days where I just want to retreat to my shell and hide from the world. Anxiety, fears, panic, dizziness, nausea. Just another day in the neighborhood. I'm so tired of it...this cycle.

Guess I'm inspired now. God, my heart hurts. And I won't say a word. Because I'm the protector. I don't want to hurt anyone, don't want to mess up their life, take away their happiness. Everyone deserves happiness, to have things the way they want them...to have the "right" kind of people around them. Beside them, loving them. I have no right to destroy that...even touch it. So I sit back and watch. And hurt. Because I did care, so much...and I wasn't good enough. Once again.

People want to say all the great things about me, how there's someone out there for me. Be patient, keep trying, move on. Let go of the past. Well, that's hard to do when the past follows you. Do you think I ever forget? Anything? Anyone? The feelings remain. And I'm thinking maybe that doesn't happen for everyone, maybe that's not normal. Maybe the reason I can't let go and move on is because the feelings never change in me. Because those memories and moments are a part of me forever. How do you move on from something that's a part of you? You can't. Don't tell me to try...I've tried. I'm so sick of advice. From married people and couples and single men. Acting like they understand when they've never been in this situation, never had to sit alone wondering why everyone else is chosen, but not you. Saying I'm beautiful and brushing it off when I say I have self-esteem issues from being told I wasn't pretty growing up. Telling me I'm amazing and any guy would be lucky to have me, but they don't want me for themselves? I truly don't understand. I truly don't. If I have deep feelings for someone, I want them in my life. I want to be with them, I wouldn't let them go. I wouldn't push them away. I would love them with my whole heart.

I'm tired of explaining, tired of complaining. It's just the same thing over and over. I just need to keep to myself. Just confide in who I trust and just live this stupid life I was given. I try to be better, I try to do good things. I've made a difference. But I'm always left behind. I'm so lonely. I am alone. There's no one that knows all of me...no one who has gotten close enough for long enough to be trusted with all of me.

Why don't guys want me? Why do they always walk away....find someone else? Or just walk away. I'm special too. I'm worth it too. But no one can see me.

I don't want the pretty words. They belong in my daydream world. I have to live in reality. And reality is that not everyone finds their perfect match...or a match period. Some settle, some just live alone. I can accept my place in life. While hating it just the same. It's not my nature, you see -- I'm a romantic, I'm meant for love. To love and be loved. Without it, there's no me. And I feel so empty. I have friends, family, kids, pets that make me happy. I've had wonderful moments and have been given the best gifts. Even if the depression doesn't let me see it sometimes, I know it's there. I appreciate it. But there are holes in my heart that those things can't fill. It's like they're labeled and shaped for a specific item...and I don't have anything to put in that space. I find things that fit, people who seem to care for me as much as I do them...but that changes, they change. Or maybe they just never knew me, I wasn't what they wanted. It's hard to keep trying, keep reaching out. I'm not searching for anyone. I am very independent. But people come into my life and I can't help but care. They touch my heart, they change my life. I'm never stronger than when I have someone beside me. They make me strive to be better...or their essence just brings positivity to my life. I don't know. But it makes a difference. And maybe that's not normal either. But I've never been normal...I'm still the strange shy girl, I guess. Just older. And I hit back now.

I feel too vulnerable. Too many things hurt now. I want to delete so many things. Because I don't want to come off the wrong way. Crazy. But I do. Because I lead with my emotions. It's what I am. Sometimes it's all I am. I can't be what I'm not. I can't be anything but who I am...

I want to feel again...I like feeling love. I like having that in my heart, I like giving. That's what fuels me. But I'm tired of the breaks. I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of people looking at me and seeing something I'm not. Expecting things of me that I don't have to give, to be. I don't know what they see. It's not what I see. I don't see all bad, I know my good parts too. It's just not enough. And don't say "one day it will be". There's no guarantee of that. Millions of people are single and childless. And people die every day.

So, to let go again. And not be bitter and cold-hearted. Not become what the fire has created. But maybe a little. I have to protect myself too. And if anyone really truly loved me enough and wanted me enough, they wouldn't walk away. They would fight for me, choose me. They'd be the first...

I feel like a journalist

Is writing the way to go? Or music promotion? Guess I'm doing both...


Blue October brings their acoustic tour to Philadelphia


Vivogig Guest Post: Blue October in Philadelphia



It's been an Amazing week. So much more than I can even describe.

How do I get past this?

There are some scars you can't see. Some wounds that never heal. But they are real.

"Emotional abuse is a devastating, debilitating heart and soul mutilation. The deepest lasting wound with any abuse is the emotional wound."


I'm not a poet...and most of the time I feel like people don't get what I'm trying to say. But I seem to have a way with words. Must be all the stories in my head. I'm not so good at talking...lack of confidence, have to measure my words, reserved nature. But I do what I have to do. I can lead, I can supervise, I can manage. I can excel. I'm just not what people expect.

Is that the reason for all the conflicts? Why someone who calls me a good friend can change that to a failure of a friend within a year? Why they think it's necessary to point out my every flaw and belittle me, cut me down, make me small? I know I'm a sensitive person, but I didn't overreact. And I didn't deserve it.

I didn't know the first time...with the first one. It hurts more to lose someone you love. To have them look at you that way. To look at them every day knowing that you're not..quite..good enough. When you have to be a different person for everyone around you.

And the other...I can't talk about it, even almost 6 months past. I can't talk about it. And I can't forget how good of a friend he was to me. How much he changed my life, gave me something special that was always waiting for me. Music. And I gave it my all. Anyone who knows, anyone who was there, knows how much I gave.

I could understand anger, I could understand him being upset. But the things he said, the way he said them...and the fact that he found delight in ridiculing me in public. How do you ever get past that? And worse, how do you forgive the ones who sided with him...who thought my pain was unreasonable. I was the monster, I was lectured. And then...I'm supposed to keep you? How?

This is just my side. My story. Who's do you expect me to tell?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's So Difficult

It's so difficult to look at you, knowing how you feel about me
Why am I a mistake, why is the bad all you see?

You say that I'm crazy and then just lock the door
As you turn away you don't see the way the pain cripples me to the floor

I wish I could be the kind of person you want in your life
Never causing you burden, disappointment, or any ounce of strife

I can't change who I am to be better for you
I can't make you care for me the way I need you to

I don't want to lose you, I don't want this to be the end
I pray for you to understand and want to remain my friend

But I can only wish you happiness and a life of joy for now
You don't want to deal with me so I'll step aside somehow

Know this though, you'll be forever in my heart
Time won't erase the memories and of me you'll always be part


Facebook note - by Nicole McMillan - Friday, May 7, 2010


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No Words

You came to my house and I invited you in with a smile. You smiled back and we talked for awhile. But I must have said something wrong because suddenly your smile was gone. In your hand was a bat and you swung it fast and hard. Beating me, beating me, beating me until I fell to the floor. Then you beat me some more. "You got what you deserved," you say. "You need to learn." My hands were shaking, my heart was breaking, my soul began to burn. You left. I cried out to you, "You're right, I'm sorry, I won't say another word. I promise I'll stay away." But you came back and said "Don't worry, we'll talk, it will all be ok." I cleaned up the blood, but lay there in pain. I couldn't close the wounds. Not yet, not again. You kept knocking on my door. And I kept letting you in. Sometimes I didn't say a word, sometimes I did and you beat me again. I started to believe it...that I was nothing to him at all. I didn't know who to ask for help, they said, "Well you shouldn't have set him off." At times I thought the only solution was to disappear forever. But strangers and friends came by to clean my wounds and make it better. I couldn't let go, he had been so good to me, the love was all I could see. My best friend for so long...and I thought he would come back again. I gave and gave and gave my heart and asked for more time to repair it. But one more slap, that wasn't fast enough. And I could no longer bear it. I took what was left away and sat down quietly. I didn't tell my family until it was over because I didn't want them to see me bleed. Now I wait for the pain to pass and try to understand...why is it ok for someone to hit you with words, but not their hand?


Facebook note - by Nicole McMillan - Wednesday, December 22, 2010

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I need therapy...I know it. To manage the depression and anxiety if nothing else. Cognitive behavioral therapy. I have to train myself to think differently. I've already done some on my own...without knowing what it is. In the past. And I know that the things in the last 4 years have deeply scarred me. Events from childhood have shaped me. Probably have PTSD and a dozen other things. I have to be comfortable with what I do. But I will do it. I want to be better.

I already edited this. Too much personal info. Not that they'll be around to care. And I'll still regret speaking of this after it's posted. Because I'm not an outgoing person. And I can't write a simple short blog. It has to come out. Because it's hurting me by staying inside. And maybe I want my new friends to know why I am the way I am. Why I don't trust. Why I can't just believe the words. Words are easy. Actions are hard. There are many who have proven themselves by their actions. And I owe them more than I can give...I'll never ever forget what they did for me. How they stood by me, stood up for me. Faced so much toxic opposition for ME. For me. But I'd do it for them. Some things are just right to do. Sometimes you just have to do what's morally right. Especially for those you love. Thank you for being there.

I may delete this. But right now I'm too stressed and anxious to care. My emotions are blocked. Manic phase? I'm just a unipolar bear anyway. Tired.

I don't want to lose readers/followers/friends. I say too much, with too much emotion. But I have to be me. I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I know it would be easier, but it would hurt so much more. This is the right way for me. For now.

But I'm not crazy. I'm just complex.

The good little human

It's one of those days where I can feel the monster inside, where it's so big it's almost bursting out of me. Screaming. Where I want to scratch my face and rip off my skin to let it out. I want to hurt myself because what's inside is hurting me...I want to hurt it back. But it's me. Confusing? I guess I am.

What am I really? What do YOU see when you look at me, when you listen to me speak, when you read what I write? Who am I in your mind? Do you see a pretty face...or do you see ugliness? Do you think of a "good girl" when you hear my name...or a poisonous one? Do you remember the things I did for you out of kindness...or the things I said out of anger? Or sadness or pain. Does an apology and an explanation make things better...or does it just make me pathetic? Do you see me...or the monster? Aren't we one in the same?

Some people see both. One one day, the other another day. They switch back and forth...or treat me as a good human at first, then treat me like a bug on the bottom of their shoe. I'm worthless, unwanted, a mistake, a failure. Boring, manipulative, flawed, a lost cause, weak, sad, bad bad bad. Is that me? Or am I the other things: honest, kind, loving, supportive, encouraging, beautiful, strong. I'm a lot of things...and I'm very few things. Just depends on the perspective. Mine too.

"I don't wanna hear you sssssssay it..."
"Save your breath, I know the story, I've heard it all before..."
"I don't care if you wait before you tear me apart. Look me in the eye...and lie lie lie lie."

When you've been told something enough times, you start to believe it. Even if you know it's not true, even if you talked yourself out of it before. THEY all believe it...so it must be true, right? I can look in the mirror and see what they were making fun of...so that's true..? I can reread my words and see what they got mad at...so that's true..? I know who I am. I know all the flaws and issues and failures and mistakes and bad points. No one has to tell me about myself. No one has to make a list, a public list, of all the things wrong with me. No one has to tell me why I'm not farther ahead in my life. Or the traits that make me unattractive. No one has to tell me that if I wasn't so quiet in school I could have been popular...or that if I wasn't so quiet my whole entire life, maybe I'd have more friends or be married. No one has to tell me why no man will ever want me or want to have kids with me. You don't think all those thoughts haven't gone through my head already? Maybe I shouldn't say certain things or maybe I should say other things. Maybe I should hide the bad and only show the good. Who cares if it eats away at me until I die? At least I would be what everyone wants. Give into the guilt and move back to that city...I'll be around family...doesn't matter if it kills me, if I have to live with the never-ending anxiety again. I'll be doing what they think I should. Drive hours and hours to a concert alone while I'm sick and have no money? Ok, that will prove my worthiness...and if I die in that neighborhood or get hurt or pass out on the road...well, at least I did what I was supposed to do.

I'm mean, nasty. A bad friend, a horrid person. I'm the monster.
I have anger inside of me. That's from holding emotions in for 30 years. That's from keeping a constant game face on and pretending that I was ok when I wasn't. Stopping myself from passing out, from throwing up when I was sick. Smiling, smiling. Except my eyes. But who cares. If you don't want to see, you won't.

I'm the one who's supposed to keep everything together. Give, help, assist, do everything just right. Keep doing and doing until I fall. Get up and keep doing and doing until I break. Cry quietly and shake...then pull it together and keep doing. And doing. Working hard...while appearing lazy. Being strong...while appearing weak. I'm tired of falling. I'm tired of the slaps...of being kicked down. Look at her there, on the floor. I'm better than her...I'm bigger than her. She can't do anything. That's how I feel...when they say the words, when they look at me that way. I can't even tell you who...it's just my life. It's always been my life. People have hurt me, they've wanted to. I have records...so I'm not making it up. Diaries since I was a kid. Maybe no one will understand the words but me. But I lived it. I lived through it. And so many times wish I didn't. Wondered why I didn't drown. Why...why didn't the darkness take me. Why didn't I have the strength and courage to finally, fatally, fix myself. I was weak then. I'm not now. But I'm not stupid either. So why should I take your advice [speaking to the world]? Why yours and not his? Why hers and not my own? Who knows best? Who has the better answer? If I say I don't want answers, I don't want that kind of help...can you respect it? Can you just be there and listen? Say something encouraging, say you believe in me...even if you disagree with me. Do you know how much goes unsaid? I don't like to hurt anyone. I keep so much to myself. Other people's secrets. My own thoughts. Things come out...things that need to and things that should stay hidden. But I don't say things to hurt. I say what I feel or think at the time. And yes, I will fight like a wounded animal if I feel attacked. I will fight like a protective mother bear if anyone I care about is being hurt. That's who I am. Look at me and see it.

I ask no one to like me. I ask no one to agree with me or share my beliefs. I have my own way of doing things -- in my life. If you cross over into my daily life, then I may want the relationship to be a certain way. I may want you to do certain things to make me feel secure, to show me that you care and that I can trust you. But I won't tell you what to believe or how to live your life. If you want help or advice, if you ask for it, I'll do my best to give you what you need. I'll go out of my way to show you how much I care. And if you don't know...ask me to explain. If I don't make sense, ask me to explain. If I get stubborn and start to argue, try to understand why...argue back if you have to. Just talk to me. Just be real.

Honesty doesn't mean cruelty. Telling someone a certain outfit doesn't flatter their figure or complexion isn't the same as calling someone a fat ugly slob. Asking me why I'm sad today isn't the same as telling me that I'm the most negative person you ever encountered. Asking me why I'm happy today isn't the same as calling me an imposter for not being depressed 24/7. Telling me I need to be slapped and get over my grief...well that's just wrong. And I won't go into what he said...or he said. It hurts...and probably always will. I don't forget...

Don't read this if you don't want to. Don't talk to me/write to me if you don't want to. Don't pretend to be my friend if you don't like me. Just stay away. I'll stay away from you. I don't go where I'm not wanted. And I've been told enough to know where I'm not wanted. I guess silence says the same. When you see someone everyday and they don't even acknowledge that you exist. When do you let go? A month, a year, 2 years? Sometimes it's hard to let go...even when they've been out of your life for longer than they were in it. My feelings don't disappear. I don't stop loving. And if you really want me to leave you alone...you'll have to say it. I respect boundaries. I don't like people to get too close, myself.

I can't stop feeling. But I don't have to watch it. I'm so tired of watching. I don't want to fall in love again and I don't want to have to get past it again. That pain is horrendous. I can't stop loving. But I don't want to be with "him" anymore. Not that way. A friend? Could we be? And maybe, maybe there is someone who feels something special for me. He is special...does he know? I'm afraid. Of what can be...but more afraid that I'll lose it all. That I'll mess it up. It's never all one person's fault...but I tend to blame myself for everything. Always. I don't like to hurt anyone. And I feel their pain regardless. So I'm not really evil, right?

I find so much joy in being around children. I know it's a pure love and I know I have it in me to be a good mother. There will be obstacles -- physical and mental, but I am so determined and I know I would do everything I could to make it work. On my own, alone. I will not let what he said, what they agreed, be truth. I'm better than this. I can be better. I have good role models for it. I know it's possible. God, I really know it's possible. Can you see it? Can you see me? There.

I'm tired. I'm done. Is it out now? Enough out so that I can go take a shower and eat...and sleep? Can I maybe sleep tonight? Well, if not, I just don't want to feel the screaming inside tonight. I don't want to hurt myself...I hold on so tightly to control. It's why people hate me -- the control, the stubborness, the defensive attitude. I can be bossy when I'm in charge. I can be many things. I am many things. I have hurt people...and there are some I wish I could hurt more. I've been jealous and envious and complained. I've whined and cried and said not so nice things. Maybe not mean compared to others, to most, but mean enough for me. I am a genuinely nice person. That's who I am most of the time. But there are days...or maybe just hours, where I just can't be nice. Where everything irritates me and I run out of patience. Where I feel misuderstood and attacked. I just can't keep quiet anymore. I don't regret that, I don't regret becoming a person who stands up for themselves. I don't regret standing up for others when they're being treated badly. I've lost a lot for both of those reasons. But I gained myself. I like that part of me. I am strong.

Maybe I'm too strong. Maybe I'm too much of some things and not enough of others. Ok. I agree. I hate the bad side of me too. But the difference is, you can walk away. For a day, for a lifetime. You can walk away. I can't. I'm stuck with me, my choices, my thoughts. You can give me advice...but are you willing to take the responsibility for my actions? Of course not. You'll say, well, it was your choice, you didn't have to do what I said. Or maybe I did it the wrong way. Maybe I'm always wrong. And you can walk away. If I destroy my life, if I destroy relationships, get fired for something someone else suggested I do, they won't get in trouble for it...they can walk away. It was my choice. I don't give advice. I don't want to be responsible for how someone else lives their life. Freedom. Choices.

You don't have to understand. You don't have to accept. No one does. And I know that the world, humanity, would be better off without me. Lots of people are living happier lives because I'm no longer in it. They forget. It's easy. Some remember...and they come back for another punch. I left you alone...why do you have to hurt me? But maybe they apologize. Well, I can't be the good girl all the time. Sometimes I can't forgive. Sometimes the pain is bigger than the apology. And if you've already proven that you view me in a certain way, that you'll treat me a certain way in this situation...I can't trust you. I would be stupid to trust someone who hurt me or abandoned me. Or believe that I'm...well, all those things he said.

I'm not talking about anyone. This is my blog, so it's about me...it's words coming out of me, from my heart and head. It's the world as I know it, situations as I see them. Skewed maybe, one-sided maybe. And maybe I actually do have people who have seen what I've seen, the way I've seen it - strangers even -...and so I'm not wrong. They're not just telling me nice things to be fake. They mean it, they believe it. I'm not crazy. I'm not evil. I'm just me. Many things. You can walk away. Be grateful for that. And live your life. I'm just trying to live mine. That's all. I'm just trying when I can. Just let me be. Let me erase, delete, start over, continue. It's my life, my page. Why can't I? Don't you? Whoever you are...whoever. I'm tired now. Just words. Don't give me words if you aren't going to back them up. You know I will. You know I will.

Maybe I can sleep. I'm just tired.

Let it be said...

I am grateful for the things I have, the gifts I have been given, the people in my life. At times I am moody, demanding, needy, stubborn, and controlling. I may ask for more than others are able to give or expect more than I have a right to. I can be overbearing, dramatic, paranoid, and persistent. I often feel alone and like no one notices or cares. I know consciously that it is not true, but when the depression takes control, I can't see it or feel it. The pain and hopelessness blocks it. I am sorry if I appear ungrateful...but I truly am. When I come out of it and the fog lifts and my vision is clear, I see all of you. Protecting me, holding me, guiding me. When you hold out your hand to me or offer your ear, it means so much. If I don't take it, that doesn't mean I don't want or need it, just that I have to face it alone or I'm afraid or not ready. Or simply that the gesture healed my wounds and gave me all the strength I needed. Loyalty and acceptance are very valuable to me and make me feel safe. That's all I need. So don't feel like you don't give enough just because I'm lost. If I know you're looking for me, waiting for me, it helps me find my way back home.


Facebook note by Nicole McMillan on Friday, March 11, 2011 at 4:16am.

I Hate Anxiety!

This blog by Kate White pretty much sums up my life right now...


I Hate Anxiety! The Physiology of Stress | Treating Anxiety - HealthyPlace

The elephant in the room...aka My brain

"We are born with no limitation on communicating our feelings and thoughts. A young child speaks without censoring him - or herself, but then something happens and we begin suppressing ourselves; instead of communicating our feelings and thoughts as they occur, we begin holding back." from My Mind is Not Always My Friend

Maybe I need to explain my writing process (blogging/venting, as opposed to journalistic writing). Or maybe more specifically, my thinking process. I have so much in my head constantly; thoughts upon thoughts upon thoughts. My brain works like a novel (or sometimes a horror movie) - I think in stories. And I speak and write in stories. I'm a very visual person and have to be emotionally connected to the things in my life in order to understand them. I overanalyze and overworry and overwork. Stress, exhaustion, sickness, and/or anxiety cuts down on my control. I'm more uninhibited, more open. But still, I keep secrets. I'm reserved, distrustful, cautious.

I imagine I was like any other child, saying what was on my mind and being curious about the world. I remember asking questions when I didn't understand something and got the feeling that what I asked was deemed unusual or strange or should have been obvious. I felt stupid for asking, but I couldn't help doing so. I needed to know. I still need to know -- everything. As I grew older, I learned what not to say or do, because I was expected to present myself a certain way. Quiet by nature, I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself and protected those close to me from my true self. No one knew who I was. And maybe know one ever will...I don't know myself completely.

But all of this comes back to why I need to write now, why I need to express myself -- not just to close friends or family, but to the world. I stepped out of my comfort zone, left my shell, and put myself on display. It's terrifying. But it's also therapeutic, so I continue. It may seem like my thoughts are linear, and in a way they are, but they go from one memory to the next, one year to another. A recent incident will remind me of something that happened years ago. And image, a sound, a smell will remind me of a past relationship...or a past trauma. And I can't separate the then from the now. It's all in my head at once, going from one emotion to another. It gets jumbled, it gets combined. And I'm the only one who truly knows what each word relates to, what the subject is. And sometimes, rereading my writing, I don't even remember who or what I was talking about. Because my mind has changed since.

It's the reason I post several different status messages on FB within a day or post completely unrelated links within minutes of each other. Because my mind changes...it's never on one wavelength for long. That's not to say that I can't concentrate on a single project for hours -- that's easy because my focus narrows to the size of a pinhole. But the thoughts remain. And I multitask. But that's off-subject. What I mean to say is that with all of this "stuff" inside of me at once, circling around, I can't just write about one thing. I segue. Because it's all connected to me. People may read and assume that it's about a particular subject, and maybe it started that way, but my emotions were on a different plane and that's not how I meant to express it. Or maybe people don't understand what I'm trying to say because it's so convoluted. I'm just one big ball of emotion. I can speak in facts and make things very clinical in a business sense, but in my personal world...it doesn't happen.

And maybe I'm still not explaining it right. And I should stop explaining and just let things be. But I have a lot on my mind and last night I saw things through a different perspective. Of course today I don't feel good about getting myself back into this situation at all. And what situation is it? No one knows. Could be anything because that's how I write. I can see it in my mind, but what's written is vague. Still hiding maybe. Protecting. But no longer pretending.

Ok, let's look at it from a mental health point of view -- one of my biggest obstacles and one of the things I'm working on. When something bad happens or I make a mistake (especially publicly), my mind brings up every single bad thing that I've done or has been done to me -- in my life. I have memories going back to being a 1 1/2 years old. And I can remember an incident that happened when I was 2 years old very clearly. 6, 7, 10, 12, 14, 18, etc. The most painful ones stand out. The ones that are still affecting me today -- panic triggers. But I can remember the mistakes...small things like giving the wrong answer in class or putting something away in the wrong spot in the kitchen. To major things like scratching up my car by backing into the parking garage or having an emotional outburst in public or an argument where I hurt someone's feelings. Buying something I shouldn't have, not calling someone back. Or calling too much. I can think of a hundred moments...and maybe they aren't really major in the grand scheme of things. But to me, as a perfectionist, as the "good girl", anything that deviates from what is "RIGHT" means that I did something wrong. I can blame it on constant criticism as a child, feeling like I had no control, being put on display because I was different, being too sensitive, not standing up for myself. But none of that really matters now. I'm an adult and I have to function in society and do what's necessary. These old habits or anxieties or whatever WILL pop up to slap me down, will fill me with that crippling pain in my stomach. But I have to overcome. Knowing the whys and hows and whens helps me because I can look back and see that that's not reality anymore, that's not important anymore. It's so easy to forgive others but nearly impossible to forgive myself. Even when I know I did nothing wrong or I made up for it if I did. I don't like to hurt others. I admit to being vindictive and wanting someone to feel my pain if they hurt me, but that never lasts long and then I feel guilty for having those thoughts. There are some who don't deserve my forgiveness or at the least, don't deserve to have a say in my life anymore. But I miss them. That's horrible isn't it? The ones who hurt me the most, broke my heart, are the ones who are on my mind.

And that's part of the recent downfall, the "craziness". I feel out-of-control and just overall not happy. I can't just flip a switch and change...just can't. And when I think of that, it makes me think of all of the people over the years who mistreated me because I couldn't. That's what my last blog was about. Recent events (like the white car or online conversations or private messages) triggered it, but that's not enough to make me fall apart. I have to bring back all the old pain, the situations in the past that made me feel similar, the words that were used before that parallel the words used now. I punish myself. That's how it gets me. One little piece doesn't make me fall. I am stronger than that. But you add more and more to it -- even perceived events as a result of paranoia -- and the weight is too much. I'm just not good with pressure. I can handle it and function...or, I could in the past, but it gets me. Every time.

So, I'm sorry for anyone I offended with my rants. I go into my head and it all pours out, almost faster than I can type. I go from one thing to another to another. Jumping back, jumping forward. I am a hypocrite -- I hate people talking about me, but I talk about others. Not specifically maybe, and only when I feel upset or abused or misunderstood, but it happens. I don't do it for pleasure or to wound. I don't ridicule or call names. I just argue and go into one of my "stories". But I hide what I can and keep things vague. I don't want anyone to know. I don't want someone I'm mad at to see...because it's my private vulnerabilities. But people do see. I'm not careful or tactful or controlled enough. And all of this -- the blog, the FB notes, status updates -- those are just emotional monologues, more about me and my state of mind than what anyone else is doing. It's my reaction to an event that causes the need to vent or cry or get mad. Whether my reaction is justified isn't really the issue. I feel what I feel. And the whole world becomes about that feeling. Hence the panic and anxiety when I can't stop thinking about something. I am learning how to broaden my focus and see the truth of things, see that my thoughts and fears don't make bad things happen, that my intense dreams won't come true. And that being happy isn't a death sentence for those I love. Bad things do happen when I'm up and I fall again. But I know that the only way to have any joy is to take whatever good I can at that moment, for as long as it's there. Because it will go away. Maybe my instability, maybe just the way life works. I don't handle it as well as some. And that's why those who have never felt this way think that I'm overreacting or dramatic. I know my family loves me, even if they don't really understand. I know I have friends who I can count on to be supportive and compassionate, even if they're happy with their own lives. And I know there are so many going through what I'm going through who know exactly what I mean, how frustrating and difficult this all is.

He does. And I'm grateful for the call last night. Unexpected...I was wary, but I needed to talk to someone who had been through this and came out the other side, someone objective, but had enough similar experiences and reactions. But I can't let myself feel pressured or guilty if I can't be the right kind of friend, or talk enough or go out or whatever is wanted. Whatever is expected. That's the problem, I'm never what people expect me to be, never what I appear. I keep changing...but really, I'm still the same. Just so much inside, so many variations, I guess it's hard to get a handle on it. Yeah, I have trouble understanding myself. It's so much.

So maybe I can't give back enough of what people need or be the type of person they want in their lives. I know that's true with men. So many men on my mind lately...no wonder I'm a wreck. The past is past but it never stays buried. I can't forget your face...and you're constantly in my dreams. I love...but I'm broken. "Don't break me", I titled my last post. But it's not really accurate because all the things on my mind when I wrote it proved that I was already broken. And I can't even explain it all. So many private things or past things or secrets that no one sees or knows. So much goes on behind the scenes. You never really understand what someone else is living with, no matter how much they talk about it. I have to stop assuming that other women with husbands/boyfriends and kids feel complete with what they have. That's my emotion...I know there's a hole inside of me that gets partially filled at times...and I know what will fill it. I know I'm a better person when I have someone there to share my life with...because it fuels me and makes me want to achieve more. I don't want someone to solve my problems or "complete me"...I just need that extra piece that makes my life better. Just better. And I had it before, so I know that's true. It exists and others do have it, others feel this way. But not everyone. And that's ok...I'm all about individuality and choice. But I need control in my own life, so I want things a certain way. And if you're in my life, then I want that relationship to be a certain way. Doesn't mean I'll get it, doesn't mean my expectations aren't too high, just means it's what I need to feel secure. And the kids thing...well, I won't go into that again. It's a very very strong emotion for me and something I long for almost beyond description. I suppose it makes me sound crazy or overbearing or needy or something. I'm getting tired, I can't think of the word. I don't intend to just go out and do it, or trick anyone, or marry just for that. That's not me, I'm too picky, I have to plan out everything. It all has to be RIGHT...feel right. You know when you know. And I know it's not time. I have things to get through. I still have time, right?

I don't want to scare anyone, someone I really don't want to lose. I push too hard, I pull too much, I hold on too tightly. I'm trying to be more casual, lay back, let things be whatever they'll be. But I'm scared that I already messed it up. And I'm scared that it's more than I can handle if it's good. And all the other things. So many things. Complicated. Loving is so easy, letting go is not. And forget about forgetting. "An elephant never forgets."

I shouldn't apologize for being me -- good or bad. But how can I be me and not?

What more can I do except just try my best. I have to do it my way.

Don't break me

"I want to shape the world to fit the way you move."

The problem is, everyone wants me to change to fit their world, their lifestyle. And I don't fit. I can't say I want anyone to change to be like me and feel what I feel...but if they could just put themselves in my place, see through my eyes, maybe they could understand. Instead of telling me what to do based on what they would do, actually listen to what's going on in my life and help me figure out what I should do for myself. Or just be there. I don't need solutions or advice or to be fixed. I need to know that people aren't going to leave me because I'm not worth the effort. And I know that some already have.

I can't worry about those who have gone. Not anymore. I can't worry about trying to please everyone or how they react to what I say/think/do. I have to stop feeling guilty when I don't take their "advice" or get defensive when they criticize or get hurt when they put me down. Everyone says it says more about them than it does about me when people say cruel things. Maybe so. I know a lot of people deny or hide how they feel, or fake it to appear happy. But I'm the one who has to hear it, read the words, look at the empty spaces. I can't be what you want, so instead of talking to me and working things out, you just leave? Or talk about me behind my back?

I'm tired. I don't feel well and I don't want to talk to anyone. This is the longest I've felt like that...where I've been angry and frustrated and so irritated by the smallest things. Xanax barely covers the pain, barely blocks the thoughts. I relax and then get anxious again. It's not depression though, although I am very low. But it's this dissatisfaction with my life. Disappointment in myself and others. I'm very sad about last weekend...I know I could have gone if things were different. If I could have just sat in the car while someone else drove -- I would have made it through the concert, made it through the night. But to do it all myself was just too much. Just too much. And it makes me look so weak and helpless because no one really understands how difficult driving is for me -- not physically, but emotionally. Just because I have my own car and drive everywhere on my own, just because I'm a careful driver and don't let the panic get to me, doesn't mean it's not still there. It's all still there.

And the weight thing...

I just want people to understand that this is real. That what I'm going through is real. I'm not trying to be "emo" or get attention or whining. Maybe it sounds like complaining, but when I vent, it's to get the negative out. No one has to read it. No one has to pretend to be my friend. If you don't like what I say or how I am, stay away. There's no need to be cruel, no need to call me crazy or treat me like my "flaws" will rub off on you if you get too close. I'm not a form of entertainment, I'm not here for you to watch me rise and fall. I'm not here for all you can take and then when my usefulness is done, you throw me away. I'm a person, with feelings. You want me to be happy? Be a friend, be there. Not at your convenience, not because you feel it's a chore that must be done, but because you care, because I matter.

I'll never live up to everyone's expectations, I'll never be "normal". I'll probably never live up to my own expectations because they're so high and I constantly try to improve and want so much out of life. But I do have things I'm proud of, things I've accomplished. Maybe that intimidates people, makes them feel inferior. I am strong despite my weaknesses. I try hard.

But I don't hate anyone. I don't make fun or put people down or say cruel things to watch them suffer. I don't like to make people upset or uncomfortable. I apologize if I do. I try to make things right. I confront people and if I'm mad at you, you'll know it. I argue...maybe that's not usual conversation for others, but that's how I grew up. I don't smile to someone's face and pretend to be their best friend while hating them behind their back. I'm not that good of an actress and it would just make me sick to do it. I can be civil, I can be polite, but you won't get my heart if I don't like you. If you treat me badly or hurt someone I love, you'll never be trusted. I don't trust words anymore, I don't believe all the affection. Because it can change in an instant. I don't understand people like that. But it's everywhere...and we're all getting hurt by it.

There's nothing I can say to change things, to make someone accept or understand if they don't want to. Or simply can't. I keep assuming that just because someone is a Blue October fan, that they'll understand what I'm going through or already know about the symptoms and struggles of mental illness. But they don't...some just don't feel it, don't connect it to their own lives. Even those who have health issues themselves or have been through similar situations can't understand why I can't get better, why I don't just do what they did and get over it. Get past it. Why I can't just change my ways or think positively or be happy. It doesn't work like that. I've tried. I've changed. And I'm still me after all these years. I didn't choose this. Maybe it's easier to stay where it's low because it's more familiar. But I constantly break free and try to rise above. People see that. They just forget when I fall again. When we all fall. There are so many of us struggling and hurting and all we want is to be acknowledged, to be believed and accepted as people. We can't be like you, we didn't choose this. We don't want to be this way. But we are. Like the color of our skin or the shape of our eyes, this is who we are. You can mask it, you can hide it, you can pretend that it's not there...but it doesn't go away. Talking about it, writing about it, singing about it, whatever, that doesn't make it go away either. It lessens the pain, it helps with the healing, but it doesn't change our DNA.

Not to say that there aren't people who do recover from depression, who do get better permanently. It may take years or a special treatment. So give us time. Let us find our way.

Sometimes all we want is someone to walk beside us in silence...

Untitled...and unending

I just feel...so sad. But I don't have the strength to write. Been working so hard. On the job searching, making sure it's all accurate on the form for UC. I need more time. I write articles every week. Started as 3 a week...then 2. Now just on Fridays. Saturday this week. So tired. Updating my Blue group page on FB, trying to keep up with all the news, all the action on Twitter, on 101X. I pushed myself too hard, sacrificed my health. And I paid. People probably think I'm so stupid for not eating, for complaining about being underweight. It's an "abnormal" thing, like being quiet. "Just talk"...now "Just eat". As if food is the problem, as if my voice was the problem. It's about confidence...and now control. Not an eating disorder -- I don't fit that profile because it's not a body image issue. I don't want to be skinny, never did. But always was. It's genetics. And when I lose my appetite...due to meds or stress or not taking breaks, it's my way to self-harm. My punishment, stress eating me alive -- literally. Do you know what that feels like? Not just hunger. A deep pain, aches, shakes, my body suffers. I let it happen. Because...I need pain. I don't know how to be happy. It doesn't feel familiar and I can never stay there. I never stay up.

I keep reading about Bipolar and wondering if I'm slightly manic. I know the terms, the different types, but I'm too tired to focus that much. I'm not manic. I overwork, I push too hard -- myself and others. I just see so much ahead, so much that can be...and I have the drive to make it happen. I don't care about myself to stop achieving my goals. I need to have a purpose, I need to be productive. I never let sickness or depression or pain stop me before. And I passed out at work, I threw up in drawing class, I had breakdowns in meetings. I don't want to be like that anymore. Control. So much control. I need it. I need to be in control now. Let no one tell me how to be...or not be.

God, I'm just so frustrated. With myself, with the world, with life. I'm tired of words. I'm tired of people not following through on what they say. I'm alone. Is there anything more than what's going on now that proves that? They all want to meet me, hang out with me. But...not now? I'm giving freely...take it. I'm asking for too much. I want the kind of friend that I am. Always there, no matter what. Being there even if I don't want to, if I have my own problems. Because they need me...just to be there. I'm sick of being that friend. Because I'm not allowed to expect it from anyone else. It's so wonderful that I'm the way I am, right? They all say. But why do they deserve to be treated like that...why do they deserve my loyalty and time and kindness. Who really deserves my love? I give my all. The whole thing. But all I get back are pieces. There are conditions, limits. Priorities...and I'm just not. I know. I know this. It's always been like this, since I was a kid. I know that "that" isn't my life, I'm not "that" girl. I'm just not. And all the nice words don't prove that I matter enough. That I'm special enough. That I'm worth the time, the sacrifice. That I might need to come first.

I have to let go of this. This idea that I can be like them, that I can have what other people have -- the simple things. I don't need much...but what I need is too much. And I'm tired of the words. I'm tired of letting my guard down and believing, expecting. Hope. I can't give up hope, but I have to turn away. I have to accept my place. How I hate that phrase. But I do have a place...and I've been fighting it forever...wishing on stupid stars, praying. Prayers are ok. As long as I pray for others or pray for my own protection, safety. I have to do my duties. What I was created for. Because there's a reason. And I've always known it. And it's not what anyone on the outside wants for me. But it's all I can give. Give. Victory of the people. That's my purpose.

I love Blue. I love the people I've met. I'm grateful to have reconnected with old friends. I'm thankful for the memories. Even the friends lost...or changed. They were friends once, they did care. But, things change. And I hurt. But that's my life too. I feel too much. One day maybe I'll get that ulcer. Right now I just have anxiety.

I can do this on my own. Live. I just don't want to. Who really wants to be alone...not just by themselves, but alone? All the friends in the world, all the family support can't cure this. I'm different...and I'm lost. I keep going and going until there's not more road left. I have nothing more than that.

I'm down. I'm tired. I want to cry.
But I can do this. I'll do the things I want. I'm capable. Doesn't mean I should have to. But I do. They're all taken away from me...not because I don't deserve it, but because I'm not supposed to have it. I'm meant for something else. More? In a different way, maybe. But not the more I want. But we don't always get what we want.

I want to go see the Parlotones next Saturday. Thank you for letting me win the contest. Two free tickets (well, 2 places on the guest list). I really want to go. I found a solution to the driving problem...to make the trip shorter. But parking? I know what the street looks like (research, maps). I'll try to remain calm. If I go. Have to see how I feel, physically and emotionally. I know I'll feel guilt if I don't go. I was given a gift and didn't use it. But I'm not obligated...and I just have to do what I need to do. I just wish things were a little bit different. A companion was all I needed. But I'm alone.

I have to pull away. That's the hardest thing to do. But I have to go back to the fire, the me in the aftermath. I want to not care anymore. I want to be mean. I want to take and not give back. Not say thank you, not go out of my way to show someone I support them, that I remember what's special to them. People do that for me. I can't say there aren't great things, great people, great moments. But it's not enough. I always need more -- too much. Why doesn't it seem like too much for me?

"Just wake up in the morning. That's all you have to do, and I'll take it from there..." Can someone love me past MY pain? No more words. Give me proof.

I'll finish watching the movie...and try to wind down. My body wants to move but my mind is tired. My back hurts, my legs hurt. I do a lot. More than people see. I'm not lazy, I'm not weak. I'm just now where I want to be. Is this where I should be? I suppose. If you believe in that. I believe in a lot of things. Miracles, true love, angels, ghosts. But I also see the evil, the cruelness, the lies. And I hate living in a world like that. It's getting harder. Every day it gets harder...because time marches on. Who knew I'd ever get here? This old? But I did. I'm protected. I'm necessary...for purposes. I just have to live with that. Acceptance. As much as I hate it. And I'll keep going until I don't.

I'm tired. And I'll regret this. I want to cry every night because I open myself, give myself, the words come out of me. I have to replenish. Night's are so hard...

I'll go on.


*No edit*

Blogging is good for your health

My most recently published article. Enjoy!

Blogging is good for your health - Philadelphia Social Networking | Examiner.com

It's not you, it's me

"Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want." - Dan Stanford

"Well-behaved women rarely make history." - Laurel Thatcher Ulrich


Today can be considered an "up" day, I suppose. It didn't start off that way...restless sleep as usual, worries, thoughts, guilt, hurt. But I'm trying to look at things from a different perspective. It's hard. Hard to train myself to go against the way I've always been, break old habits. I feel like I'm fighting against myself -- the me inside is trying to drag the other me back to safety. Because "down" is safe and comfortable and familiar (see my poem "Home").

But the meds keep me balanced...in that middle place. And I'm too stubborn to stay down for long, too ambitious not to want to improve and succeed. Too much of a workaholic to sit still. And too much of a perfectionist to be satisfied with life as it is. I have issues...yes, no secret. I have insecurities and fears and thoughts that would seem scary or absurd to others. But I also have hopes and dreams and see the good in the world, the beauty in the little things. I probably said before -- it's so easy to make me happy, so easy to make me smile. But because I'm so sensitive, it's also very easy to hurt me. I have intense emotions and I can't be casual about things. I care very deeply, very quickly. And like most artistic people, if I create something, it's like my child. It's a part of me. And to destroy that or criticize it or reject it, or take it away is like cutting off my arm. It wounds me. People don't understand why I get so upset or frustrated when no one pays attention to the work I do or the things I post. It's because I'm putting myself out there -- what I'm posting, my words, my research, my art, my beliefs, whatever -- it's ME. So if you ignore it, you're ignoring ME. If you take it and don't give back, you took a part of ME and I'm left empty. Maybe that sounds dramatic. Maybe people think I'm always complaining, or blaming others. I'm not. I'm just venting my frustrations. And speaking from my heart. So it's all emotions and pain and questions and confusion. It comes out the way it comes out. If I'm mad at a person, they'll know it. If I'm mad at a situation...then it gets convoluted into an emotional rant.

I don't understand people...I'm not a people person. I get annoyed so easily, frustrated so easily, disappointed so easily. And a lot of it is because they don't understand me either. I know there are those who think I'm strange, odd, intimidating. Crazy. I've been called names, seen the looks. And still, I give people chances...I ignore the signs or hope things will change. I'm seeking approval. Longing for acknowledgement for the things I've done. I need constant validation and encouragement. It makes me feel weak. I don't want to be needy or codependent. I don't want to fall in love with people who can't or won't love me. I don't want to rely on a friendship that isn't real. Or realize that they matter to me more than I matter to them, even if they do care. I'm finding it hard to trust. I've been broken too much. And most of it, most of the "lessons" have happened in the past 3 years. Because I changed. I got "better"...to a degree. I spoke out more, found confidence in myself, took chances. I messed up. I feel like I can't go back and fix things. I hurt people. But I know it's not all my fault. Self-blame. Low self-esteem.

I'm human...and I can't accept it. I can't accept making mistakes, I can't accept hurting someone's feelings or disagreeing with them. I can't accept having mean thoughts about someone or feeling jealous. It feels wrong to me. It makes me a bad person...that's how I think. But I know it's normal. I was just always the good girl, the nice girl, the sweet friendly quiet girl. I let people run all over me, use me, abuse me. That stubborn streak did come out, the emotional outbursts when I had enough. But for the most part, I was nice. And I had so much pain inside. I've learned and grown, so I know how to fix myself or try a different way. I don't let everyone take over me anymore. But I'm still too giving. Friends say that it's a good way to be -- the reliable one, good listener, always there to help. Loving heart. I suppose. But I feel like I'm missing out. Because people tell me not to expect to get that back from anyone else. Not to expect everyone to be so loving and giving, not to take things personally. But...then why expect it from me? Am I not entitled to have it too? To have people in my life who love me as much as I love them...or be there for me when I need them? Contradictions. My life is full of them.

But I have to move on. I know enough to know who to trust. And to know that even that trust could be broken in a snap. It's not a good world. It's not a good life -- being human. I feel like I don't fit here, that I'm not made for this world. Besides the mental/emotional struggles, I just feel like things are going to get worse, not better. We just live this life and do what we can, take what we can, enjoy what we can. No matter how much you achieve, you're still HERE. Maybe a pessimistic view. But can anyone argue that the world is a safe, peaceful place? People hurt each other on purpose...and enjoy it. They revel in the pain and fear of others. When I fail, there's someone there who feels a twinge of joy. When I'm criticized or put down, there's someone there thinking that I deserved it. I hate that. But I see it now. And it just is.

But there are also people who make my life worth living. Who admire me and count on me and appreciate me more than I deserve. I'm not a saint or an angel or wonderful or amazing. I'm just me. I do good, I work hard, I love, I help, I protect. But to me, that's what a person is supposed to do...that's normal. But it's not really, is it? I have a hard time seeing the world outside of my focus. Seeing things from the other side. Because I can't FEEL it...and for me to understand something, I have to feel. Others don't feel what I feel, don't connect the same way, so there lies the disagreements, the misunderstandings. But if you care enough, if the relationship is worth enough, you'll work to make it better...to make it through. I believe in that.

I just needed to write, to vent, to express myself. I'm not hurting. I am a little sad though. Still feeling inferior and that nothing I do will be quite good enough. Because there's always someone better. I just want to be equal. I don't want to take anything away from someone...I can be happy for them even when I feel a loss or left out. I got through weddings, I got through births. I don't have those things and I deal with it. But I want those things too. TOO. Not what someone else has, but my own. My place. I want to be special and accepted and acknowledged for what I do, for who I am. I don't want to be overlooked, I don't want to be looked down on, or avoided. I'm not crazy...I have depression and anxiety. I'm not dangerous...I come on too strong sometimes, when something really matters, but I'm a reserved person and I believe in boundaries. I don't like to hurt people...but sometimes I get mad or defensive or make the wrong choice. Don't you? Please don't think the worst of me, please don't hate me for what I do. Learn about me, talk to me, ask me who I am, why I do what I do. Why I feel.

If you're in my life, you matter. I care.

I'm proud of my accomplishments. I'm proud to be a good person. I don't lie. I want everyone to be happy and I would sacrifice myself to make that happen. But I have to stop giving myself away. It's not worth it anymore. I have to take more...even if that's just taking time away from those who love me. Taking time to take care of myself. I may never love myself or love where I am in my life...because I know I can do better, be better. Things are always changing. I say I hate change, but really I mean the changes I can't control. The ones that happen that I'm not prepared for...or don't want. That quick punch in the stomach, that ice cold fear when all the blood drains from your face, the needle in your chest when you lose something important. But the changes that I make for myself, those I need. I'm always improving and I love to learn, love to create new things. And my heart is so big, there's always room for more.

So just...let me be who I am. Right or wrong, weak or strong, good or bad. But I need you...I need you to be good enough for me. I need you to try and fight and work hard...as hard as I do. I need equality and security and companionship and I need to be needed. It was nice to be counted on, to be looked at, to have people trust that I would give them the information they wanted. It was nice to feel that again. I didn't realize how long I had been without it. Will I have it again? I don't know. Will I talk to the friend I'm missing again? I don't know. Will "they" ever appreciate how much I do for them? I don't know. They don't belong to me...and I don't have the right to take their time or attention. It hurts when others get those things and I don't. Sorry. But I have to accept my feelings. It's ok to feel that way. When you put your heart into everything you do, it constantly gets bruised and battered...passed around and played with...broken. But I pick up the pieces and try again. No one can say I'm not persistent. And maybe some resent me for that. Because they can't do it. Because they don't have my drive or talent or strength or whatever. But don't put me down to lift yourself up. Do good in your own life. Just because you have more or you haven't been through what I've been through, it doesn't make you better than me or more important. If you want to be better than someone, become better -- for yourself. Don't beat them down. Isn't that what cheaters do? I can't help being competitive or wanting to be first or needing approval. But I can stop expecting it and realize that I just have to follow my own path and do what needs to be done. Even if I'm the only one there. Even if I'm the only one who knows or cares. It may not be enough, but it's the best I can do. And my best has to be enough now.

There's some comfort in knowing that I'll always have the memories of what was. I can appreciate those moments...they satisfy me. I don't really need so much. And I also had the best that I could get, the best achievement in the world: my parents both said they were proud of me. For different things, at different times, but they said it. They believe it. They believe in me. What else is there? I believe in me too. And I believe in my friends and family...I believe in strangers. I really do care about the whole world. I just don't feel a part of it. But maybe THAT's my place...