I must be strong; I've come so far, you know. Although at times it seems a good thing, I understand the destructiveness behind your deception. Your incredible power is so seductive, but then, you're well aware. You're enticing, addictive. And I've always had trouble saying no...
You work so cunningly, so slyly. Attacking with loneliness and the fear it brings me - a little low, don't you think? Not that I ever mistook you for being honourable. You'd use every weapon in your arsenal and more tricks beside to have me at your feet once more, in helpless, fawning, obeisance.
We've walked that road so many times.
I love the way that you toy with us, at times gentle, cloaking yourself in the guise of innocence. At other times tempting, playing on guilt, forceful. "Oh, it's not that bad. Not such a big deal." "You know you want to." "You can't keep away. You couldn't before." "You'll never be free of me." Then the blunt shot, wordless. The cravings.
So many methods to employ and so admirably determined. I particularly enjoy the way you leave and come back with a punch; unexpected desire so hard to ignore. Or when you return after enough time has elapsed that its difficult to remember your dark side, even if one recalls it with their mind. Such tactics.
But see, the things is, even though you are so powerful, this power is not all-encompassing. I can turn my back on you, I can look away. I can remain vigilant and fight you with everything I've got. And what have I learned? That you are not indestructible. This is a war I'll be fighting for a long time; perhaps the rest of my life, but I am taking this stance and I am not giving in. I will not fall to you no matter how you plead or scream. This is me saying "never again".
A year ago I was in darkness, slave to a blade and the desperate need to flee from myself, from reality. Blood and pain flowing freely in a darkened room, heart more lost and broken than alive. Today I am fighting and more sure of one thing than ever before, that "hope is not a myth".
It was never going to be easy. I've caved enough times before to know. And sometimes fighting takes more effort than I've got, causes more pain than I know how to bear. I try try try and sometimes that doesn't seem like enough. Sometimes it isn't enough. But today, its been a year since I last cut, last hurt myself on purpose, and I am so proud of how far I've come. I never thought that I could do this, so many times when all I could see was pain and hurt; inescapable cycle; and yet, I have reached the other side of this dark tunnel.
Hope is real.
I'm not going to lie; I will find myself in the dark with the want to escape many more times. And this time, each time, to you, addiction, monster that would have me trapped in your grip, I will say no. I do not belong to you. This is over.
I am free.
(I originally wrote this last night, right after the previous post, but it is fitting for today, no?)
Thursday, July 2, 2009
One Year Today. :)
Friday, May 8, 2009
[Insert relevant song lyrics as title here]
I am such a pansy. It's not always a bad thing - I'm not at all keen on horror movies (gross understatement), and I am fine with that. No, what I have a problem with is how scared I am to face up to reality (see example, although I'd like to think I'm not quite that bad.) I hide from facing so many things...
I'm also far too emotional. I have a cry about everything, and look far too much on the negative side rather than the positive side, although, compared to some, I'm absolutely bursting with sunshine...
The point is, I need to toughen up. I thought that I was getting stronger, emotionally, in not falling to pieces in front of my friends. The thing is, all I've been doing is heaping it onto this blog, instead, where I half hope it will remain unread, and half hope that both you who know me in real life and those who are just friends through the blogosphere will listen [read] and sympathise and possibly throw in their two cents, and give me a shoulder to cry on and I hope to god some comfort. Like I said, pansy. I need to stand for myself, and not drape myself all over others weeping and hoping for sympathy and something/someone to lean on.
I am better than that, damnit.
I am stronger than that and I need to start acting that way.
Except it's so easy to forget this shit. I need to put more effort into every damn area of my life.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Regret, or something like it.
Referring back to this incident, even at the time, in my inebriated state, I knew I was going to regret it. As I have already said. But there is more to it.
I've always wanted to make other people happy. I've always wanted everyone to like me. Even if I didn't like them. I hatehatehate being disliked or looked down on by anyone, and this is often conflicting for me. I'll still often do things I don't want to do and aren't necessarily good for me either, simply because it's what the other person wants. But if you make me feel needed, loved, pretty, wanted, or anything positive, you're almost definitely going to get whatever it is you want. Conversely, I feel guilty very easily so you can play that card too. I know, I should stand up for myself, but I have this slight neediness when it comes to other people... Working on it, kinda.
That night, I remember MF saying that he had hoped this would happen. My mental reaction was to raise my eyebrows, but god only knows what expression was plastered across my face. I remember him saying that he found me really hot and he had wanted to get with me but hadn't expected that he could... I remember thinking that he was just saying this because he really just wanted to get laid but at that moment I would just pretend he meant it and accept it even though I didn't believe it. I remember thinking that I was pathetic to be so desperately needy for compliments and to feel desirable that I would compromise my values and my self-worth just so I could pretend I was wanted for a while.
I remember how gentle he acted and how he looked worried and kept saying he didn't want to hurt me, and yet it was really too late anyway, because it hurt so much, but at the time I didn't care, and I knew that was ridiculous. I remember him saying that he felt bad for me because I kept calling the ExBestFriend and only getting through to his voicemail, and my thinking that he probably actually couldn't care less.
I remember rambling about how I was so very drunk and that I got drunk so fast, thinking that being such a lightweight was embarrassing, and him saying that he wasn't that drunk. I remember hating the idea of that because it was unfair, and he knew what he was doing and that showed his lack of respect for me even though I agreed to it, and because he would be able to better remember it afterwards, when I knew I would want to forget it utterly.
And throughout it all I was trying, and failing, to berate myself for this, wondering why I didn't care at the moment, even though I knew I would later, and trying to make myself so that I would stop; wondering what was wrong with me and how much I would hate myself for this later. But at the time I just didn't care.
And that is what has me so perplexed that I still cannot get my head around it...
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Can I please at least have this?
Okay, I've been having mad crazy mood swings again lately, a lot. As bad as before I was diagnosed with Vitamin D (and that other thing I don't know) deficiency. But my pills have been bought once more (I ran out), so hopefully that will fix that, and the constant tiredness resulting in lack of schoolwork being done (VERY BAD for year 12), and limit long naps and general sleeping time; not to mention falling asleep in class (only in English, I swear I fall asleep easier there than at home in bed at night).
That said, my continuous caffeine dosage daily (I think I've said this before, but damn I love the Mocha's from the local cafe) is, I think, also wreaking havoc with my system. Yes, that system overloaded with unhealthy food, unhealthy amounts of food, and severely lacking in exercise. I suppose those are a few things that are worth a mention. My mother certainly thinks they're worth several mentions, several times an evening...
But, today, I went for a jog with my sister. When the parentals left to go buy my tablets (my mother insisted on buying in bulk from some far away place in order to save a few dollars in price), I seized the moment to ask her to come with me. I would have done so ages before, because personally, I like running, and I know I'm way unfit yada yada, so I figure, may as well. And since my sister is way too obsessed with her figure and wanting to be thin (don't even get me started :( ), she's all into jogging and exercise of nearly every kind. I go out of my way to avoid anything that could be considered exercise. Largely because of my mum, but more on that another time.
Anyway, the jog was fun. Not necessarily fun, but invigorating. Not long, but still. A start, no? My mum would be pleased, which is why she will never know. Like I said, more on that another time. Although, come to think of it, her response would more likely be along the lines of, "It's good to see you showing some interest. Now do it more often." Grrr.
But, to the point of this post.
I really like Chris. He likes me. Is that not enough?
I've been fucked over more than I realised until this last week, and even that last post, by the friends thing. I've weakened my other friendships at school in response because, honestly, I was hurt, and I didn't want friendships that weren't with them; I didn't want any replacement; and the reason my friendship with Lynley has flourished is because she wasn't connected to any of that, although she was friends with the ex best friend. She was a grade below and as such, that separated her. My other friends, although they aren't close friends with my best friends, can still talk to them and laugh with them and spend time with them and, really, honestly, I'm jealous. Because I can't even do that, and that hurts, a lot.
Other friendships I've made since then have also been good, refreshing, with no connection. And I strengthened ties with my friends from primary school; one in particular, because they had always been there and I needed someone who was distanced from the situation, physically as well.
I still feel like I could break apart sometimes, at just one word, one movement. And apart from Lynley and my friend from primary school, I haven't let myself become close to anyone. Plus, I find it very hard to trust guys when it gets into any situation of more than friends.
I'm trying to mend myself, and let myself mend. School isn't helping. Seeing them everyday is really not helping. There are a lot of things that aren't helping, I suppose. Take my mum, take the fact that I am far too sensitive to most things.
Can you please for the love of god let me have this one thing??? Untainted??? I can barely take your comments and your opinions on my being with Chris, and does it really matter? He is nice. Really nice. I don't like the majority of his friends, but fuck it, I don't like him for his friends. I like him for him. And whatever your own opinion of him, whatever reason you may disapprove, he is making me happy. He is helping, when so much else isn't.
And I'm over caring what everyone else thinks about it.
Please, please don't ruin this for me. I don't think I can bear one more thing going wrong.
EDIT: [9.48PM] I think I'm definitely going to kill myself. But not. Wow. I can't even explain how scared I am right now. Because.
You know what, I'm not even going to explain.
Because I don't even think I can.
But. My blog may shortly return to private.
kthnxfuckyouall
but not really.
fuckfuckshitfuck
Thursday, February 5, 2009
"Well, she's not bleeding on the ballroom floor..."
"...just for the attention,
'Cause that's just ridiculous..."
For those of you who don't know, I saw a counsellor a few times after my overdose on painkillers. Maybe four, maybe five. And also for those of you who don't know, I was not trying to kill myself. But, I liked this counsellor. I felt guilty for having to see her, when it cost my parents so much. But they wanted me to get better. And I wanted to get better. And hopefully even fix things amongst our family somewhat. However, most of you will know, as well as I, that seeing a counsellor is not something you do just a couple of times. If you want a quick fix, it's better to go in for drugs, or hypnotherapy, or crazy altering-chemicals-in-your-body type stuff. If you want to see a counsellor and work through problems, it is a long term thing. It takes time, and patience. Four or five visits to a counsellor is just the start.
I'm not crazy and I'm not suicidal; I don't even necessarily have depression, but yes, I have seen a counsellor. And, it wasn't actually a waste of time. It was helpful. Not every counsellor will be helpful to you personally, and different people "click" better with others. But that's all rather irrelevant. I'm just trying to do my bit to beat down the stigma our society associates with counsellors etc. But more on that another time.
Sometimes, I don't feel up to taking that responsibility that seeing a counsellor engenders. It means having to actually take action, to stop relying on others. Because you have to put in effort.
And sometimes, I don't feel like I have that much within me. I don't think I can keep going. It feels too hard and I want to give up. When, like me, you are desperate to know that you are loved, you will sometimes go to shocking lengths to be assured of this. It didn't begin as this, but the ways in which I hurt myself physically ended up serving another cause, when those around me found out, seeing how they were upset told me that they cared. I already knew they cared about me. They expressed it enough. But for me, that wasn't quite enough.
When I say that my friends "found out", I mean, generally, that I would tell them. Or I would drop hints or not quite hide what I had done. I hated myself for it, for making them upset. It was yet another thing to prove I was a terrible person; that I would let them know. More ammunition to use against myself. I didn't want to be attention seeking, but honestly, that is what I was doing, in that aspect of my self harm, at least. I suppose you could say I was slightly manipulative as well. But I didn't have much control over it. Each time I determined that no one would know, and almost each time, I would let at least one person know. Sometimes not for weeks, months even. But I would eventually fold.
I don't suppose I could have hidden the guilt I felt for betraying them, which is what I did every time I self harmed, even if I had truly tried. I let myself give in and tell them because secretly, that was what a large part of me wanted. Even when I didn't realise it.
Anyway, it is this need to be assured of others' love for me that led me to being heavily reliant on them. I needed their reaction to my actions as motivation to stop self harming, I needed them to help distract me when I wanted to self harm but was trying not to. I used my friends as a crutch (no one please think of the other crutch! >.<) and let myself go on feeling sorry for myself. That's the truth.
Sometimes it feels too hopeless, too hard to go on. But I know I am stronger than I think. It is up to me to keep going, not to give in as I did when trying not to tell my friends about my self harm. Because if I had wanted, I could have not told them. And if I had truly wanted, I could have stopped myself from self harming, each time. But I was scared to take responsibility, because that meant that things could be my fault. I hate being wrong. It's not that I feel I am better than others, rather, that I want to please everyone, and if I make a mistake, I am letting others down. It's why I hate team sport so much, because I was always the one who would let everyone down (apart from in soccer, I love that game C:).
In those respects, I was (and still am, in other ways) a little child. I still sometimes want to be the vulnerable one who will be in a position where (hopefully) others will protect her, and she can know by this that they care, and she matters. But I am learning to tell myself just how ridiculous that is, and do some standing up for myself.
There are the times I feel so weak and I want to hand over my problems to someone else and tell them to fix them, but that is not possible, and if I'm honest, I know I can hold out, even if it won't be easy. It is up to me whether I stand firm or break.
With all of this, I sometimes wished I would just be given anti-depressants or something. Not that I'm saying they are the easy way out; sometimes they are necessary. But I'm not keen on drugs and things that alter the body's functions and I knew I could do it otherwise, although it would be harder, longer, and more frustrating. So I was glad to be seeing a counsellor. They do help, but only if you let them, if you take on board what they say and apply it. And I was ready for that. I was ready to move forward, no matter how hard it was. And sort out stuff that I hadn't been able to sort out in my own mind. We all know the saying about not seeing the wood for the trees. A distanced person could lend a valuable perspective and I wanted that.
I had thought about counselling long before, but I couldn't bring myself to ask my parents about it. That would involve first convincing them I had things I needed to work through, and then that it should be done professionally, etc. So I was, in a way, grateful at the chance my overdose gave me. I thought that even this stupid thing I had done could be the very thing that helped me. I had to have follow up counselling. I had to confront things, I couldn't avoid it, and I didn't even have to bring it up personally!
I hadn't seen my counsellor since before Christmas as she was going away on holidays, and said just to make an appointment when she got back, whenever. Well, she's been back for a long time. I wanted to see her again, but Mum didn't bring it up, and I was dead against bringing it up myself. I'm not good at broaching certain (most) remotely sensitive subjects with my parents, particularly my mother, and I really didn't want to do this. She had made it clear she thought I was better. That I only "caused all this trouble during school" and she thought that when school started again, "her and Dad would have to endure the nightmare again". "You've put us through hell... you've caused us so much heartache... you've caused your dad so much stress that with his high cholestrol he could have a heart attack... (or, rather more bluntly) you'll kill your father..." And so it goes. My mother is not the most... er, understanding or tactful soul... Yet, while I am an absolute sucker for guilt trips (I felt guilty for eating or attacking in any other way my friend in some Wii game we were playing at his house, even though it was part of what my character had to do in order to beat him - Super Smashed Bros Brawl, if you were wondering), I refuse to let my mum's work. Of course, some still slip in past my barriers.
I didn't exactly want to explain to my mother that no, not everything was alright, and no, it had a grand total of nothing to do with school vs. holidays, but it was an ongoing thing with many issues and this matter with my friends was only a very small part of it. I made half hearted attempts to counter her nightmare statements by saying "it's not anything to do with school", and her "you seem just fine now that it's the holidays" with "how would you know"s, but I would back out and run for the hills the moment she demanded what exactly I meant.
I finally asked her if she could make a counsellor's appointment, and she was very reluctant. I was a bit stunned as she asked me how many more times I could go see the counsellor. I know it's expensive but there is absolutely no point in going a few times, it is an ongoing process! She doesn't see anything really wrong with me, which also contributes to it, but I know that I need this. I can get by without it, but to truly fix things, it would be of great help. And I love the chance to have someone get to know so much about me; practically everything, and accept it. I've realised that it is something I long for, because it would be a true mark that I am worth it, that I am an okay person; valuable, and all that.
This was over two weeks ago, and I asked her yesterday if she had made an appointment because in the end she said something which sounded like a grudging acquiescence, and she told me that she hadn't.
I don't want to say this, I don't want to feel this; but I'm disappointed and it feels like a betrayal on my mother's part. She should want me to get better. I know it is just because she can't tell anything is wrong, if I was physically sick her and Dad would spend everything they had to help me become well; but this is different and it's not as simple or as obvious as physical illness. Not that I'd say I'm mentally unwell, but still.
Sighh.
Monday, January 12, 2009
I fear you the most, more than anything else
I fear you more than death, for you are that which brings fear to death, to the end. The End? That depends on what you choose. And on what is real. I know what I believe about it. And right now, that means it is the end for me. Although an end would be much more merciful.
But this is not about death. Death would be nothing if it didn't factor in you.
How do I explain the mindless terror that strikes as I imagine you? How is it that you arrive at any time you will, coldly? How are you so inescapable? Is there no sanctuary from your dreadful grasp on my soul? How do you capture me even as I am surrounded by those I am loved by?
You follow me everywhere, closer than a shadow. Sometimes you cloak yourself, hidden for a time, but if I look closely, I can find you right where you were when I last noticed. You are manifest in my dreams. Is there nowhere I am to be rid of you?
Alone, alone, alone. It is a chant that echoes painfully through my heart, resounding in the empty halls of my soul. Its truth rings out undeniably. But how am I alone? How, alone, when I live with other people all around? In the midst of my family and closest friends, at times I still feel it; the loneliness. Like a disease I was born with. So far progressed, it is near impossible to be removed. No matter how many relationships I form with others, the feeling of "alone" still persists. If I search, I understand. Something is missing. Someone, perhaps?
I am unique. There is no one like me. How many times have we all been told that? It seems to be thrown at us endlessly at school, etc. I want to be special, I want to be me. With no one else the same. But how lonely, to be someone who is not understood by anyone else, because of my uniqueness, because of how different we are from each other. If we very completely unique we would all be very alone. And it is not just I who fears being alone. Do not most of us fear this too?
And yet, how terrible would it be to be just the same as everyone else? How boring? That is not a conceivable option either. Not for me.
Thankfully being unique does not entail being that different from each other. The way I see it, every different side of it, every different belief will be the same as at least one other person in the world, apart from perhaps minor details. But no one person will have all the same parts and ideas as another, we all have similarities to different people. I have "this" in common with so and so, and "that" in common with whatshisface. Both she and I think the same about "yada yada" and I share a mutual interest with, that girl, that one, you know...
I love this idea, that we are the same and yet completely different to each other. We think differently, act differently, experience different events, believe different things. But I think if we look closely enough, we could find something in common with us and every other person we meet. We all have emotions. We all have been hurt. We all, once at least, had dreams and ambitions, plans. We all have fears. We all have weaknesses. None of us are perfect. And I believe that in all of us, there is this emptiness, this feeling of "alone" that is crying out to be filled. We may not even realise it, it may lie hidden, but active. We may try to fill it with any number of things.
I believe all of us need relationships to thrive. I believe we all need love. Interaction is something we need. When we are hurt from relationships, we can become bitter and turn away. We can stop believing in love. We can run from love. But why do we do this? Because we have been mistreated by those who are supposed to have loved us, we have loved and not had a reciprocation of this love, we may have lost those who we love. In any case, when we flee from love, it is to avoid pain. But if we don't love, then that pain wouldn't be possible (I did say this recently). Whether we believe in love or not, it is there. Invisible, inaudible; you can't taste it or touch it, you can't smell it. It's indescribable in all it's many forms. And yet, it exists, regardless if you accept that or not.
"There is no greater gift than a place to belong. While it may seem that you're selling out to admit you need people, the irony is that you'll never really know yourself unless you're in a healthy community. We only truly come to know ourselbes in the context of others. The more isolated and disconnected we are, the more shattered and distorted our self-identity. ("Soul Cravings", Erwin Raphael McManus, "Intimacy: Entry #17 - Do You Know Who You Are?", I cannot be bothered with proper referencing kthnxbai)"
How could we know if we are selfish or generous unless around others? How do we know if we are self-centred, or kind to others? Who do we have to care about but ourselves? We are influenced by our families as we grow, we look at other people's values and beliefs about life to see if we find they agree with us, and either take them on board or dismiss them, deciding our own that are different. If we have no one to be different from, than we lose our uniqueness. We just are. Just one. We are the norm. We have nothing to compare and contrast against. We are alone. My soul cringes back at the thought of that.
"When we live outside of healthy community, we not only lose others, but we lose ourselves. ("Soul Cravings", Erwin Raphael McManus, "Intimacy: Entry #17 - Do You Know Who You Are?")"
When we treat each other with value, when we care for each other, when we love, we experience the presence of God. More powerful than any data or doctrine, love is the proof of God our souls long for...
"You cannot live without love, and you do not have to.
Yes, there is an insanity to love. You will go mad in pursuing it.
You will despise life itself if you do not find it.
Your soul craves love and will find satisfaction with nothing less.
You shouldn't be surprise that you look for love, you keep running into God...
Love can't be stopped.
Grief is proof that love prevails over death.
You cannot kill love.
I'm not talking about the pervasive counterfeits we often call love. But the kind that fables like The Princess Bride speak of -'true love'. The kind of love that lasts beyond life, that does not end in death, that fills you when you breathe deeply of it and wounds you when you lose it. Love is the most powerful force in the universe. God is love, and he is everywhere.
Love is the essence of the cosmos. Love is the ethos of God. ("Soul Cravings", Erwin Raphael McManus, "Intimacy: Entry 20 - Like A Kiss on the Face")
I don't want to be alone. I wasn't meant to be alone. None of us were...
So many questions.
Postscript - Apologies to those who dislike discussing love. ;p
Sunday, January 11, 2009
"This love has taken its toll on me"
Why have I been awake since 5 AM? A dream. A dream so ridiculously realistic I (for the first time) didn't know where I was when I woke. I tried writing about it, but it didn't seem right. So I shall try again later.
Acceptance. I desperately, obviously, pathetically long for acceptance. I thought that was more of a particular need of mine, and the way I go about feeling wanted and needed is most certainly not common to everyone. However, I have been reading a book called "Soul Cravings" by Erwin Raphael McManus. It, essentially, looks at the three things that we as humans desire most, at the core of our beings, and attempt to find throughout life. It looks at our "quest for love, quest for destiny, and a quest for meaning". The part on love, at least, is brilliant.
I have skipped to "meaning" and it's not so great for now. But love. It's amazing how much of what has been writing in this section are ideas I have thought, expressed; or if not, resonated within me as something incredibly true. I have begun to understand just a little more of why I do the things I do.
I am an attention seeker. I know I am, however much I hate it. I don't ask for attention in entirely overt ways, but you can see it in the things I do. I don't want to ask for attention, as such, because that would be beside the point for me. Which point?
I have a desperate need to feel loved, wanted, needed. I hate how needy I am. But doesn't everyone need this, after all? Perhaps they don't feel it so consciously as I, but deep within us all, we desire others to value us. We need to be needed. It validates us. It makes our lives meaningful. Of course, there are other things that also give our lives meaning, and we can't live without meaning either; but relationships are a necessary part of humanity. You can deny it, but we are relational creatures.
We may turn our backs on this need, seek to isolate ourselves from everyone else, saying that we don't need anyone else. But why do we do this? Because we have been hurt by others. Which can only happen when we care about others, when we have relationships with others. When we feel the pain is too much to take, we can easily turn away. But turning away doesn't remove our need for others. We were made to be together, to interact, to love. There is an emptiness that comes from somewhere inside us, when there is something of love we are missing.
We abuse love, mistake love, throw away love, ignore and forget love; but at the end of the day, if we don't have love, what do we have?
"The great danger of giving up on love is that we begin to give in to hate. A place where there is no love is toxic to the soul.
When we love, we are moved toward forgiveness.When we allow hate to take over, we begin to live for vengeance."
A life lived in hatred is not my idea of life. It seems like a life where something essential has died, leaving a blackness, a deadness. Forgiveness is important to me. Not forgiveness in which we continue allow ourselves to be hurt. But forgiveness where we accept what another, or we, have done to ourselves or others, acknowledge the hurt, but let it go. It is one of the hardest things to accomplish, forgiving someone who has truly hurt us. And yet, one of the best things we can do in our lives. Sometimes forgiveness just doesn't come in one hit. And it's not always a one off act. You may need to forgive one act, one person, continually. Every minute, every hour, every day, you may wake up and have to forgive. Letting go of pain doesn't come about that easily. But in the end it is the best course to take.
Love is abused.
"Love isn't about volume. Love isn't about conquest. When we live like this [talking about "womanisers"], there's something deeper going on inside us that we're trying to ignore, even drown out. We are alone, disconnected, and deficient in love. Deep down inside we know we cannot fill the vacuum within our souls by consuming people. We are not only robbing others, we are pillaging our own souls.
Eventually it hits you: you cannot take love; you have to give it. Love is a gift that cannot be stolen".
We crave love, and I can see this in my own life, in the lives of people around me, in the writings of people I don't even know.
"How can you make sense of a person who moves from one relationship to another, making her body the object of another's pleasure of abuse, except to acknowledge the painful reality that human beings fear almost nothing more than being alone [On women in abusive relationships]?"
Love is an endless topic and I have much to say; the idea of such a mixture is somewhat terrifying, but it is 6.53 in the morning and I would like some sleep before church. So there will be a part two, I'm sure you're looking forward to it. ^_^ lol.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
I really need to get the hang of this blogging thing
I wouldn't say I'm doing toooo badly, considering my 26 followers (and 15 on my other blog!), however there is vast room for improvement. My posts are either too short, too long, without enough background information, whiny, sad, repetitive, confused... And to top it off, it's the 7th of January, and I've only posted three times thus far this month!? Usually it's more along the lines of three times a day...
Admittedly I have been away in Melbourne, and out as well a lot, but what I have posted lately anyway has been bland, uninteresting or merely quotes or stories from others... Poor form, poor form.
So, for the new year, I need a new name. For my blog. For the characters in my life on this blog ^_^. And to replace Tovoia ja Elaman!! >.< Something that will represent who I am, without revealing my identity. Then I can go back and alter all posts with his name in it, with anyone else's who could expose who I am lol. Although, reading my posts, after a while you could guess anyway, if you do know me.
I want your help for this, I have requested this before but this time I want ideas! So please, rack your brains and come up with something as I thus far have been unable to do...
I just sent a long email to Michael trying to explain just what my former best friend means to me and what our friendship was like, why I find it so hard to let go.
[Just an aside, my iTunes won't open /grits teeth nervously, stabs keyboard {My iTunes is precious to me, I have it at well over 4000 songs, due to careful nurturing and much Limewire and Torrent downloading; and as for my play counts... /holds protectively]
You know what? This iTunes matter is remotely urgent (of course that makes sense), and I think I'm going to have to restart. But no! I am downloading my iTunes update so I can't even do that for another 30 or so minutes... Sigh. [My somewhat excessive downloading may or may not have lowered our broadband connection to dial up speed... again.]
I just recalled that I have Maths tuition homework I really should be doing rather than blogging. But it has been a long time since I have truly posted, I can't stop myself now... So I'll switch to Windows Media Player temporarily to continue listening to Bloodhound Gang (Ain't My Job on repeat, specifically; it amuses me), and console myself in regards to lost play counts with the thought that at least it will scrobble to Last.fm... And continue to ramble until Kathleen gets here.
Really, rambling is what I do best. I could write / talk for hours on a completely nonsensical topic and not run out of words. Which is a little unfortunate for any readers/listeners. Ah well.
I finally got my hair cut on the 30th, I like it (: It's all choppy from the layers, just past my shoulders. I have black hair for those of you who don't know, and although I do now have to straighten it every day, it looks good ^_^ I might put a picture up when I have a good one, albeit temporarily. I also sometimes add a bright blue hair extension to my hair, that you can see under my layers, I won't try to explain as you may get a terrifying image in your minds, but again, a picture can assist. Temporarily.
Got my Learner's license today; the actual card. I don't look aaas bad as I thought I would, considering I thought the picture had already been taken and started to move, and my hair's kinda weird looking there (pre-haircut).
So, anyway, back to my email to Michael. Trying to describe my friend, I find myself lost in memories of him, of us. Can I ever really explain to anyone else what he was like, everything necessary to have a full idea of him? Would anyone ever be able to see him in the same way I do? I wanted to portray everything that could explain who he is, and what our friendship was.
He started talking to me now, and we had a brief conversation about Does It Offend You, Yeah? (band). Now, as it seems doomed to always be, our conversation is dead. I can't think of anything to say. Does he even want us to be as good friends as we were before? That is what I want to know more than anything, apart from "did / does he miss me at all???"
My self esteem is still better than ever before, to stop cutting myself, for me (!), what an incredible thing. I am still amazed at the thought of it, and yet, I did it, and continue to do so. It is hard. I come very close to breaking sometimes. But I'm still doing it. I'm pretty proud of myself for that. /embarrassed smile
But. Of course there was a 'but' coming. ;P With three of my best friends gone from my life, that leaves me with a lot of questions. I have already asked some of you these, but for the rest of you, "Did you miss me, at all??? Was it that easy to remove me from your lives, to replace me with each other, with others?? Am I that replaceable, that unneeded, that unnecessary??? Do you not even want me? Am I that expendable?" My head tells me no, even my heart kinda tells me no, but there's still that doubt. I feel like a child who is hurt and confused and yeah...
Anyway, Kathleen is here.
Ramblings can continue later (:
Monday, December 1, 2008
shoot me
i want out
so bored
i'm dying
my eyes are like filled with tears from the too much in front of screen thing
asdhflidjglkdfjiglkdfjgklf
this isn't just boredom
this is me not wanting to be here because i'm back in one of those stages where i get hell emo fairly often and absolutely go psycho over the smallest argument and revert to the actions and thoughts of a three year old chucking a tantrum
ashfkjgfdsklfdglkdfgf
killself
i need people
Friday, November 28, 2008
Hold me gently, I'm made out of glass
You make me feel
Like a star / beautiful / amazing / ugly / unloved / rejected / ecstatic / joyful / despairing / unneeded / valuable / content
Right now I feel good, hair straightened, legs silky, moisturised, wearing a slinky dress, heels,
And any one of you can boost that, or tear me down, with just one word, with a look, with an action you may not even notice.
Do you feel like a god, to have such control, well with power comes responsibility, and I'm trusting you, defenceless, remember, you're holding my soul.
I'm fragile, made out of glass, but am I a glass butterfly, precious to keep, or a monstrosity, hid out of sight or shattered in pieces thrown in the trash,
Hold me gently, I'm made out of glass.
I'm listening to music I like, that
I heard through Jake. His recommendation. His favourite bands. I dreamt about him again not last night, but the night before, at Hannah's. Nothing suss people, but I have had so many dreams with him...
I can't explain the feeling when I wake up, when he's not there... Not that I mean, physically there, because that would be weird... ;P
When he's not there in my life anymore. And I wake to that reality. And the memory of the dream is still fresh to me, the feelings and emotions, the friendship; and it hurts. That it no longer exists.
That it crumbled, and I didn't even see it coming. I thought it was just another one of our rough patches, and even then not that bad, that it was on the mend, again.
And right now, the pain of what has happened, the pain of not having him, not having my best friend, is so bad it is physically hurting. I don't like to breathe without him in my life. I don't want to breathe without him in my life.
It hurts to be alive without him in my life, to be breathing, sustaining my living, when he's not here! It doesn't make sense, why isn't he here? He should be. It is too much for me to take, that my mind reverts to this childish way of thinking. Selfish. Not understanding, but wanting clearly what I think should be.
It quite literally at this point in time hurts to breathe without him.
But it doesn't make sense.
And it SHOULDN'T be like this.
The nights when I wake, struggling to breathe because of the way it hurts so much, and this applies to Bec and Sacha as well, those are the nights I just cry and cry, if I can find the breath for it, that is. I wasn't lying all the times I told him that I needed him. All the times I told them all I needed them. I'm learning to live without him, to not need him. But I hate that I should have to. Perhaps it is a good thing, somehow. But I don't care. I would rather be friends with him than not, if being friends with him was the worst thing for me...
Jake, I think I'd love you now no matter what. I'd love you even if you were Russian and I never had the chance to know you, I'd love you if you hurt me in every possible way you could, if you tried to hurt me by hurting the other people I love, and I know you wouldn't even do that, but if you did... I still would love you.
I don't love people in a way that's easily thrown off. And you are no different.
I would do anything for you.
And I can't explain, ever, how much I miss you.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
All I need
is you to promise me you'll never leave.
Just convince me.
I need your unconditional love.
I can be anything as long as I'm not without you.
I can be anything as long as I'm not alone
As long as I'm not unloved.
God, yeah. But I have not gone to God yet and I don't know if I can find my way to him anymore, I never have been able to before. And I tried, I really did. But there are things stopping me, always have been. And these obstacles have been accumulating. God is the answer. I know that with such conviction. Regardless of whatever any of you say.
I need you because I need someone. I have my standards for friends and you're high above them, I'll bring you down.
I will test you because I need to be sure. Test you till I break that and then wonder why I feel so empty and hollow when I thought I would feel satisfied, that I was right after all. But find out it's not what I really want.
And I don't even really believe that, what I just said. I don't do that. Okay, I do sometimes. But not...
I need you. Everyone of you. I need you who I don't even know. I need someone to listen, someone to care.
I'm just a selfish person.
But I'm so much more.
I just need you to make me that.
Monday, November 10, 2008
do you know what my biggest fear is at the moment?
that, even if we do try to fix things, it won't happen. because it's been too long, and too much mistrust has been built up
and i'm so scared.
because i want them back so bad
and in this time we've been apart, i've changed
i'm not sure how
but i know i have
i don't like it.
i'm just so scared because i need them back, but what if it doesn't work????
/fearful eyes
(L) Sacha Bec (yn) (yn)
and yeah.
Friday, November 7, 2008
'"Global" is not a nice idea. Global is reality.'
A somewhat cynical look at society, along with more self-analysis, and something like hope... All in all, another long-winded look at several different things all mushed into one, by yours truly ;)
Please, read this. Or at least, parts of it. The latter end of it, before the song lyrics. Which are rather poignant also... But I want to make a point. I truly believe this is more than just Larissa ramble. I may stray from what I'm trying to say but I think it is at least worth considering, this matter of love and its power...
And I'm sorry it's quite so long.
~
I am sick of the way I have been letting the world get to me again. I refuse to let you do this to me. You will not turn me into a person with the characteristics that I despise, as subtly as you influence me. I notice. And I'm not going to stand for it. I am a stronger person than that. And look at that, that I can say that I am a strong person. That's a step. I could never say that before. It wouldn't have been true either. But you know what, I am. In some ways, and some times. I am weak and broken and want to avoid responsibility, I fall down and I get down so easily, I base my life upon other people, I crave assurance that I am loved and needed; I know most of my flaws, I'd think. But I have become a stronger person, over, I don't know how long. I guess it's a process that's been happening slowly in amongst everything that has happened in my life. Sometimes put on hold, sometimes sent into reverse, but still happening.
So what I hate now is how I am buying into that selfishness that our society and mankind promotes and that the majority seem to live by. I tend to get so caught up in my own problems, so tired out by them, that I do not find the energy to put the effort into others' sadness. Reading your blogs, I see your unhappiness, I have been shying away from trying to comfort you, trying to save my strength for myself when I feel weak. Reaching out and expending that energy seems a painful, horribly strenuous task. I have not been showing true love in this way.
I have been so impatient lately, I have been being a bitch. You will have noticed, some of you. I have been harsh with my words lately, then feel guilty and cover it up by laughing, pretending to be joking, when really, I meant to be as cutting as I came across, but then horrified at it in reality. Another flaw of mine - that I do tend to cover up [it's 11.11, make a wish] when I feel bad over doing something wrong, when someone asks me if I knew something, it has become something of an automatic response in some situations to automatically reply with yes, I don't consciously think I need to know everything, but I guess on a subconscious level I have been thinking that I don't like other people knowing more than me, being better than me. I guess, in part, it stems from this Ignite thing. How Catherine and the others stuck with Ignite maths, while I dropped to co-Ignite in year 8... and especially when they accelerated into year 11, and now doing year 12. Their "we never need to do any more maths", I guess subconsciously it makes me feel stupid, I have accelerated in English, yes, but so have they. They are special and smart and I am not. Or at least not as much as them.
I hate when I can't understand something and then another person will say how easy it is. Oft it is not even in response, they won't know I am struggling and will be like, oh this is so easy, give us something harder. And inside, I am ashamed that I am not finding it so easy. Everyone has different strengths. I know that. But I want to be good, at the things I think I should be. Because I hate being not good enough.
Sport. I know the humiliation of always being one of the last picked for a team because of how bad I am. I want to be as good as average, as others, or maybe even better. Because, face it, everyone feels proud of themselves when they can help others with something. Like when I understand a maths concept and can explain it to someone else, especially since I have struggled so much with Maths this year. It's like, I am finally getting something right! I don't think this is a bad thing, it is a factor in motivation.
I don't feel like I need to compare myself to others. But subconsciously I guess I still do. This is all obviously tied back to my needed to feel loved. I need to feel worthy of that. I need to prove to myself that I am equal to other people. So that other people will like me, need me. I need to be needed. I crave attention so badly, and I hate that, I repress it. It comes out in bad ways. Not attention in a loud way, but I do need constant reassurances. I'm not so bad these days, but still.
Hah the topic of perfection is now running through my head. I said I didn't feel the need to be perfect. I guess, I can isolate these voices inside me, ignore them. I know they are ridiculous. I do it well. It doesn't affect me. Although I guess, I have just shown that they do, indeed. But on a subconscious level.
I don't hold it against these other people, that they are better at it than me. I accept that I have my own strengths, and I get past it. I think I do pretty well with it, I don't try to compete with them. That said, I am fairly competitive with little, stupid things. Like getting more plays on an artist than another person who also listens to them, as though I can tell myself I like the band more. It's stupid. But I guess I satisfy that there, which is better than with the more significant things. /shrugs
Aghhhh I am so bad with tangents... /tries to find original point trying to present
Ahkay. So my behaviour lately. Yes. I am ashamed of it. I admit that. So, I apologise. I have been snappy. You will have noticed, the Fall Out Boy thing. I'm not even going to analyse my reasons for that. Tangent. lol. Buuut, just quickly, I'm a little jealous of how Shazz and Catherine have become so close. They do everything together. I swear, I never used to get jealous. Literally, never. This year is when that started. I really dislike it. Jealousy is a horrible, twisted, vengeful thing. It really is. I squash any I may have, but I hate the feeling. I hate having it swirl in my gut, black and sullen, like some foul beast.
Another thing, briefly. I want my friends, I want most of them to have me as their closest friend. Regardless of how close I am to them, I want them to be able to confide in me, to talk to me, about practically everything. Friends confiding in me is another reassurance thing. I realise this is unrealistic to want. Another of my serious flaws. Another that I try to conceal. Forgive me for this also, I beg you. I do not want this from you, not really, I long for it. Another thing I suppress. It shames me. So much. That I need these things. I am so needy. So dependent on others. I keep myself stronger than that, I don't try to get this wish of mine. I keep it under control.
Jealousy. I define jealousy as something that is where you want what another has, or want something you can't have, and wish that you could have it instead of whoever does have it, at practically any cost. And would actually do something to get it. It is selfishness, of course. Of course, I have wanted what another has, everyone does, it is human nature. But never in such a way that I would have it in place of the other person, I would just be like oh I wish I had that thing/opportunity, etc. Eg. Simple Plan concert, when I really liked them. When Catherine and others went, I was so happy for them. I wished I could go, but I didn't begrudge them that, I was excited that they could go and happy for them.
Don't get me wrong, I don't want Catherine and Shazz to not be close, I just want the same thing, for myself. And I wish I was in on their friendship. And I hate hate hate that I don't. I want to get, even if I don't give as much. Ehhh.
Feel privileged LOL. I am being open about things I hate to admit even to myself. Some of these things you would have already known for yourself, but still for me to talk about it like it exists, it is breaking a taboo I have subconsciously set.
Aghhhhh topic.
If you hadn't noticed, the world we live in, is a very selfish one. Look at the business sector. We are taught that we have to be better than others, to get the best pay, to do the best for ourselves. Helping others out doesn't have much of a place in business. This spreads to many other areas of life. We have bought into "myself first". Sure, occasionally, we'll sacrifice our comfort for others, 40 hour famine anyone? But are these things, these ideas, more novelties than anything else? So we can deprive ourselves and raise money and then satisfy our consciences that we have helped people in need, and go on enjoying our creature comforts, not considering these people till the next thing? And of course, it looks good. Helping people, giving up food for 40 hours, doing this and that, getting involved; "oh how considerate you are". We all care what other people think, and this does look good. Perhaps I am being far too cynical here. Of course, we do these things with good intentions. Don't mistake me in that. These things are well and good. But if we really cared, we could do so much more.
I am ashamed to admit, when I was younger, I would donate money that I got, before I had pocket money, the Christmas and birthday money I got, I spent so much of it donating it to various charities, along with my sister. As I have grown older, I now have pocket money, and yet, it has been a long long time since I have just donated money. When a cause comes along, yes. But out of the blue, no. Sometimes I think, I will. But then, oh, those new shoes, that dress, that new album; my materialism brings me to spend my money on that. And then, I have nothing left to donate. I never have any money. I spend it as fast as I get it, faster, even. I want so much. But in the end, what am I spending this money on? Anything worthwhile? I don't even recall what I spend the money on half the time. And all too soon, the items that I buy seem outdated, and I am complaining about not having enough music, or running around the house moaning about how "I have no clothes".
I distance myself from the terrible events we see happening around the world. Oh, the starving children in Africa, the Christians being persecuted in India, "it's so sad, isn't it?" The moment of due sympathy felt, "we're so lucky to live in Australia, we have such fortunate lives, all the more reason to appreciate this life we have", returns to MySpace surveys and comedic YouTube videos, none of which has any purpose or value. Still dissatisfied with our lives, still searching for fulfillment, still not truly appreciative of how lucky we really are. I speak for myself but I have the feeling I am not alone in this...
Advertising purposely addresses the consumer specifically, using key phrases such as "you will love this". Appealing to our selfishness, our desires, our wants for ourselves. Even "make your loved one happy this Christmas", one can see how that will relate to one's own happiness. What of it satisfies? New things are always fun, but the novelty wears off in time, there's always something newer, there's always something else. Are we looking for completion in the wrong places?
Am I being too cynical? It is what I see.
I have given into this way of thinking, and that shames me. That I care more about a pair of new shoes than trying to help out people who are starving to death whom I could help with my money for a mere fraction of the cost of those shoes. Especially when these people don't have to be dying. How easily we could solve world problems if everyone co operated and worked together for the good of each other, not just ourselves and our immediate world around us... Or do you say I am too idealistic? [Maybe a little idealism is better than cynicism, better than seeing the negative aspects in everything. Maybe having that little belief in things being better, maybe that idealism will actually lead to something that is ever so real.]
How did our society turn into something like this? I have numbed my conscience too long, and now this is spreading even to my close friends. It is easy to forget the things that are out of sight, in different countries and places and situations, so far away. But when it gets to the point that I cannot even find it within me to extend sympathy and help to my friends in need, the ones who I can see suffering, that makes me sick to my stomach and so, so ashamed.
I want to care about the things that matter. I don't want to lose sight of the most important thing. People are the most important thing, and love is the most important tool we have. If everyone looked out for each other, can you imagine what things would be like? Of course, this isn't likely, people are selfish and people are broken and people make mistakes. But even a little love, just one person loving as hard as they can, caring for others, that helps heal some of those wounds... Love can do so much. Love can change the world. So can one person. I believe this so completely. "A single raindrop raises the sea". Or something like that. Thanks Dinotopia. Every little action adds to a movement. "Believe your voice can mean something."
Just after the cyclone in Burma and earthquakes in China, Jamie Tworkowski of To Write Love on Her Arms wrote this -
"It's easy to believe that are own problems are the only problems in the world. It feels true at times. Maybe a lot of the time. But the better thing might be to believe that we are one. My friend Chris leads a network of communities serving among the poorest people in the world. His team work to be living solutions in the most broken places on Earth. Our team had the privilege of spending two days with Chris last week - he was here speaking into the work we're doing, and helping us get organized. There was something special in a word that Chris kept using, something important. He calls the people who live in the broken places "friends". He says this because he's been there, and he's looked them in the eyes. He knows their names. But i think he says it also to remember. To say that we're the same....
This blog is being typed inside the borders of the richest country in the world, in an apartment with air conditioning, electricity, and cable television. There is a fresh pizza in the refrigerator, and plenty of water to drink. i am a fool if i forget the others tonight. The Atlantic blocks their voices, but they are certainly out there, as real as the air in my lungs. The many with less. The many in mourning and the many in need. In need of food or clean water or shelter. And maybe they sound the same in this: That they might also be people with broken hearts, people stuck in moments. In need of hope, in need of community. Remember them tonight. And find yourself in the process.
"Global" is not a nice idea. Global is reality. Let's be the generation that realizes this."
For the full blog, click here.
"I'm thinking about other things I heard about today
All this week and tomorrow
And how these hands can create some better things for bettering
but you see for now I got my own things
I can't help it
I got too many issues I own
So I cannot help I'm afraid, yeah
But keep on preaching, preaching and heal the world
Lip service makes us look great
Do you feel
The weight of the world singing sorrow
Or to you is it just not real
Cause you got your own things
Yeah we all have our things I guess
I guess my mind wanders off
from time to time
Sometimes I convince myself
that all is fine in the world
It's not mine
Why should I
have to try
to fix things I didn't create or contrive
Do you feel
The weight of the world singing sorrow
Or to you is it just not real
Cause you got your own things
Yeah we all have so many things
Have the habits
Had you
Has it been for long
Can you feel the souls behind what's going on
Do you feel
The weight of the world singing sorrow
Or to you is it just not real
Cause you got your own things
Yeah we all have our things
Do you feel
The weight of the world singing sorrow
Or to you is it just not real
Cause you got your things
Yeah we all so many things
And I can get past these things..."
[The Rocket Summer]
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Frustrated.
I'm so sick of cryptic stuff. I want to just be able to take stuff that is said at face value. I want things to be simple. I don't want Jake to have replaced me with Nicole... Just as an aside, that. lol.
Anyway, I think I've changed more than I've realised this year and it's been highlighted for me while spending time with people I haven't in a while... I'm different.
I want my three back. I want to hang out with Kathleen and Michelle more. We will soon (:
And Emma, eee I love her. She is a blessing that has fallen from the sky in this time, we are good for each other, I think. I just hope when we finally meet it will be good, not like what happened with Kirsten =/
We are good at comforting each other and offering each other hope, as well as having good conversation. I always had a negative view of her because Jake painted her that way, the annoying girlfriend who broke up with him but now regretted it and couldn't move on, and wanted him back. She seemed so clingy, but it was a coincidence I added her of another person's MySpace, Kady; I thought it was her but I wasn't sure and I didn't care anymore...
She's great. I never realised how needy I am, how clingy, but ehhhhh.
I want a lot but ah well. I guess I'm just wishful and whatever. Tired and sleepless and bitchy. Over Fall Out Boy. >.>
I don't care.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Tell Me
"So tell me, tell me, that I'm not all alone, and everything's alright now..."
Tell me that tomorrow isn't going to be just some more heartache.
Tell me tomorrow I will get somewhere with this.
Tell me tomorrow will get me one step closer to fixing this mess.
But don't tell me any of this unless it's true.
So tired... Connected Texts Study ftl.
Sacha Bec Jake (L) (L) (L)
Heartbreak comes in all shapes and sizes
and types too. And my heart is breaking, even more, over losing my best friend. I know that there is still a possibility with the other two, until there is no hope there I will keep myself somewhat together. But I don't think there is any hope whatsoever with him. And I need him. So much. Not even him, our friendship. Who am I kidding, I need him too. Of course I can never recreate that friendship with anyone else. Hah why am I talking to Paul a bit now, just, if I'm honest, to feel that little bit closer to him. Oh god. And even if he is talking to me, even if he's calling me an annoying cunt, God I would rather that than nothing, I can't take nothing, and even when he is saying anything, over bloody last.fm posts, I can't take that either.
I just, just hate that he could throw it away so, so easily. I hate how it meant so little to him when it meant practically everything to me. Our smallest arguments before that he didn't even see as arguments, sent me into massive freakouts and crying fits. I always knew this friendship was more to me than him, but I didn't think it would ever matter.
I feel so torn, wrenched apart inside. Jake you are breaking my heart. I don't want to live without you. I want you, I need you so much. I miss you so much. I can't even escape missing you in sleep, you're always in my dreams, dreams that I can't stand. hah nothing suss people, it's all normal friendship type stuff...
Jake I would give anything, I swear. Anything to fix this. I need you.
I miss you, so much.
Am I just being stupid? Some lady at my church, her husband has died. She will keep going on. But in some ways I think this is more painful, it is not of their choosing. I wouldn't know, I can't say, who am I to judge, I have never had anyone really close to me leave through death. My dad says I rely too much on people, I base my happiness and life on them. Which is why everything has fallen apart. I guess he's right.
People matter to me. Is that fucking wrong?
Shit, I'm crying again. Toivoa you're fucking pathetic. I just, want him to miss me at least. I want to know that he does care, just a little, after all. That he didn't let go of this so easily.
But he doesn't miss me, doesn't care, and he let go of our friendship like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. And this just keeps coming back.
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