Body of mine.

Oh body of mine, what have I done to you? Put you through? All in an attempt to shut off my mind for a decent night's sleep. 1 Zyrtec, 2 Tylenol w Codeine, 2 Ambien, 3 Klonopin and 3 Benadryl... How am I still awake? Hell, how I am I still ALIVE after years full of nights of such abuse. It is almost like here I lay, every night, half heartedly trying to kill myself, swallowing mass numbers of pills, wondering what they will do to me, hoping that they will put me to sleep, hoping I wont wake up. Is that what I am doing? I don't want to live anymore, I am no good at it, my life is just stress and money and work and drama and depression and money and stress and it's no life worth living at all. I am a rat scrambling to make its way out of the gutters and into the real world, and the real world, all of those jobs that won't hire me, who turn me down even though I am qualified, they are the feet kicking me back and forth, stepping on me and hurling me into the sewer. I am tired of being a goddamned gutter rat. I can't do it for much longer.

i was on a roll back then

The world is crashing down in a cascade of mosquito bites and stars, the streets are cracking and hell is bubbling out over the asphalt. Run for your lives. Run for your worthless lives. No one cares, you are no one anymore, what you do you do for them so that they will accept you, so that they will love you, and now this facade that you have erected has overcome everything that you once were. You are nothing, you are a mask and you can't figure out how to get the damn thing off. All that is left of what once was is the unwavering certainty that it is gone forever. And so the houses crumble to the ground and the sky rains down in tears that no one can successfully wipe away, no one can fix you anymore, no one can fix this but yourself and you are dead to the world. The stars rain down in flaming memories of what once was, scorching you insides and making you bleed, making you scream in an anguish that no one could fathom, that no one can hear. You're not an individual anymore, you're an idea, a statue erected for the sake of what you believed would be your own happiness, a machine programed to do as others hint, you're not real, you're a fake, you're nothing, nothing to me, nothing to anyone, because no one knows you anymore. You lead these people to believe that they love you, that you are who they think you are, when in reality you are cringing inside, afraid that they'll figure you out, afraid that they'll turn away and you'll be left loving them, alone. Pathetic. You are so pathetic, you're a manican, a movie star, what people want to be, you created this image to make them want you and now they do and you can't enjoy it because you live in this constant fear that you will lose everything. Congratulations babe, you won

just what i do

I don't feel like talking anymore. This LJ is worthless, writing in it as though I can save these seconds in time, fix these thoughts into something that will never die, pretending you want to read them, pretending I'm interesting enough to make you care. I should stop writing, but I won't, because it's just what I do.

I want to set some of this to music.

"I see the world in snapshots, a black and white movie on pause beneath a photographic sky, waiting for the print to fade and the ink to run dry. I'm different today, my mind is so full, I hate so much, I hate that I am so lost yet so sure of my footing at the same time. I hate that I have no future, that I don't remember my past, it's as though I don't exist. I hate star crossed lovers and all their twisted truths, they stare into eachothers eyes and promise not to promise a thing, they laugh all the time, they smile all the time, she say's their special but he laughs it off, she knows their different but he wants to believe that we're all the same. We're on different planes here, lover, he called her that that night, I love you I love you I love you, an endless chant she dies to believe, she twists it around her black heart until the skin breaks and she bleeds, she'll believe it if it kills her because she knows it's true. She hates how she wants him, loves him, but she loves it at the same time, loves making him smile, loves making him laugh, loves holding him and loving him because no one else could love him the way she does. Star crossed lovers, you can rot in hell, I don't believe in you anymore. "

Delving into the past

I am going through the archive of my old Live Journal, the one I started days after Jess died. I remembered that used to post lyrics half the time and decided to look up some of the songs for old time's sake. Found this gem in the mix, by Maria Mena:

Vague sound of rain
pierces through my song again
but I get distracted by the way his toes move when he plays
so I let it burn

I just poured my heart out
there's bits of it on the floor
And I take what's left of it and rinse it under cold water
And call him up for more

And I say baby, yes I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too

He said I'm sorry
so sorry
I'm sorry
so sorry

He grabs my wrists
as my fingers turn into angry fists
and I wisper why can't you love me, I'll change for you
I'll play the part

And I say baby, so I feel stupid to call you, but I'm lonely
And I don't think you meant it when you said you couldn't love me
And I thought maybe if I kissed the way you do, you'd feel it too

He said I'm sorry
so sorry
I'm sorry
I am sorry

I also re-realized that I am an astounding writer when I am depressed and it further cemented my decision to go off my meds. I made the mistake of mentioning this to Zack, who has been around the one or two times that I haven't been on meds in the past 6 years. But maybe it'd be different this time... maybe I won't be so suicidal and depressed, maybe I will just be less foggy and the words will come more easily.

If the sun burns your feet, you're just not dancing fast enough.

wayward disconnected thoughts, capture them in you hand and throw them at the stars

Up and down, round and round, never stopping, just hitting ground. Getting up and falling again.

Eyes so dark they'd make you cringe.

And then there are the saved conversations with Zack and Andrew.

[private post]sometimes he makes my insides go all mushy. no wonder he has me [Dec. 6th, 2004|11:29 pm]
Unseen Stratagem (11:11:38 PM): i want to go for a walk in the rain
Atrus12 (11:13:16 PM): whys that?
Unseen Stratagem (11:13:42 PM): because i like rain and walks and not being here
Atrus12 (11:14:10 PM): so whatd your parents say?
Unseen Stratagem (11:14:52 PM): my dad told me to get off the computer and unload the dishwasher, my mom didnt talk to me when i came in
Atrus12 (11:16:46 PM): ya, my mom told me im late. two black kids tried to break into the house because they needed to call their boys because people were chasing them
Unseen Stratagem (11:17:01 PM): thats... interesting
Atrus12 (11:17:49 PM): ya, i dont really know whats going on with this town anymore
Atrus12 (11:17:51 PM): i hate people
Atrus12 (11:17:55 PM): wanna run away?
Unseen Stratagem (11:17:59 PM): please
Atrus12 (11:18:58 PM): thatd be fun
Atrus12 (11:19:04 PM): i like exploring
Unseen Stratagem (11:19:13 PM): me too.
Atrus12 (11:19:21 PM): the world may be completely mapped -but not by me
Atrus12 (11:19:27 PM): it doesnt exist till i see it really
Unseen Stratagem (11:19:47 PM): i like just driving away and not caring -- exactly
Unseen Stratagem (11:20:18 PM): nowhere and no one exists until ive seen em, otherwise, theyre bits of fiction really
Atrus12 (11:20:59 PM): nope
Atrus12 (11:21:03 PM): theyre not fiction
Unseen Stratagem (11:21:13 PM): just had to disagree
Atrus12 (11:21:24 PM): theyre nameless faceless entitys that i can hate to my7 content
Unseen Stratagem (11:21:39 PM): that sounds pretty okay
Atrus12 (11:21:43 PM): uh huh
Atrus12 (11:21:53 PM): did you like sleeping with me?
Unseen Stratagem (11:21:57 PM): mhm
Unseen Stratagem (11:22:23 PM): why do you ask?
Atrus12 (11:22:34 PM): what about when id pull you closer?
Unseen Stratagem (11:22:43 PM): thats my favourite part
Atrus12 (11:23:30 PM): im glad
Atrus12 (11:23:36 PM): maybe we can do it again sometime
Unseen Stratagem (11:23:46 PM): mmk
Atrus12 (11:23:53 PM): hah
Atrus12 (11:24:00 PM): what... you dont want to?
Unseen Stratagem (11:24:23 PM): what would make you think that
Unseen Stratagem (11:24:33 PM): id love to
Atrus12 (11:25:06 PM): im glad
Atrus12 (11:25:15 PM): i woke up every now and again
Unseen Stratagem (11:25:33 PM): oh?
Atrus12 (11:25:35 PM): one of the times i woke up it was right when the sun came up
Atrus12 (11:25:58 PM): i looked up into my mirror and saw you sleeping there
Atrus12 (11:26:05 PM): you looked so content
Atrus12 (11:26:13 PM): maybe even a little happy
Atrus12 (11:26:30 PM): it was beautiful
Atrus12 (11:26:40 PM): i looked for a little while longer
Atrus12 (11:26:50 PM): then pulled you close and went back to sleep
Unseen Stratagem (11:27:21 PM): im glad
Atrus12 (11:27:23 PM): oddley enough though, i was plauged by night mares of some many fassets of life
Atrus12 (11:27:34 PM): my life i mean
Unseen Stratagem (11:27:47 PM): while i was there?
Atrus12 (11:27:55 PM): uh huh
Atrus12 (11:28:03 PM): i have bad dreams all the time
Atrus12 (11:28:08 PM): its nothing new
Atrus12 (11:28:23 PM): haha... i just realized i said it
Unseen Stratagem (11:28:29 PM): me too- said what
Atrus12 (11:28:40 PM): i meant, that you were beautiful in to morning light
Unseen Stratagem (11:29:07 PM): oh
Unseen Stratagem (11:29:25 PM): ... thank you

Then this bittersweet one, it was Andrew's away message one night.

Auto response from I Touched Sound (1:18:01 PM): So, my thinking has lead me to a few conclusions. That game doesn't mean half as much, I could throw that out the window just to be there, My boredom isn't random and sparatic its caused by you, sure caring makes me weak I know that and it bothers me. I don't want to care about you, but I do. I don't want that blue hair, or that red hair, or the dark haired girl from that movie, I don't want Scarlet Johansen or for god's sake Natalie fucking Portman….See the thing is I just wanted you. Sometimes ideals get stuck in the way of what's really needed and wanted But I wanted to say something and now I think I have lost the faith needed for that, I have lost the faith I put in you and my ideas on being together. So here's to last goodbyes sweetheart, here's looking at you kid.

What would have happened if I had wound up with Andrew rather than Zack? He obviously wanted me more than Zack did at the time, or maybe he just wanted me because I belonged to Zack...


Blaring rock, blurring words,
Fade into the background of my thoughts.
Rearview mirror, sad sad eyes,
Honey, you look so lost.

Driving, wishing I have no place to go,
The minutes tick down to my sadness.
I don't want to leave,
Not yet, please no,
Let me lie here, forever.

Winding roads, twisting fates,
What if, what if, what if...
Whose eyes are those? Sad sad eyes,
Honey, you look so down.

Jesus, I cannot believe that I wrote this:

Talk to me in the dark, I can't see your face but I know it so well. Hold me and make this our own world, I don't like the one beyond those doors. I know you'll leave, I know you'll go, but I never expected you to stay this long. We'll keep our secrets and we'll laugh away those awkward nervous moments. I'll always remember that look on your face, I'll always remember that timber of your voice. I couldn't forget you, babe, if I tried. So hold me just a little longer, till the moon sets and the ice turns black, hold me closer and it'll all feel okay.


I wish my life were okay. More than okay. I wish my life were sitting in a tree, listening to the waves and looking at the mountains, I wish the wind was whipping through its hair and tickling its skin. I wish my life were happy.

Sometimes the words get all dammed up by a torrent of unruly tears before they even reach my lips.

hah, working at Kalamazoo 10 in a depressing little nutshell:

And so, the sun will set behind that wall of glass as the patrons walk in an out to and from their brief escape from life. The smells, the voices, the faces will all fall into a silence, grating on my sanity. And I'll stare out that glass wall, and I'll watch the cars go by, and I'll wait...wait...wait until I can crash through it and back into life. Only to return again...and again...and again.

I loathe the need for capital with every fiber of my capital-less being.


People want pictures of me, are you afraid you'll forget me? I'm afraid you'll forget me, so take a picture, and keep it, and remember that I exist.


The sun just shined through a slit in the blinds, the first I've seen of it today; it's falling on my face. It warmed my heart.


Alright copying and pasting all of this is getting ridiculous. Why can't I be that girl again? Why cant I think those things and write those things? Why did I have to go and grow up and change into... this... whatever I am now. I want to go back to her: http://jinxx329.livejournal.com/

Violated.

It feels as though someone has grabbed hold of my heart and is holding onto it so roughly that it can't beat. This is why I stay away from people. Complications. No matter the age there are always complications and drama. I can pity the characters in my books as I watch them stumble through life, get angry at them for making wrong turns and stupid decisions, I can do that all in the safety of my own bed. Away from all the stumbling and wrong turns and bad decisions. I got sucked in, it isn't Matt's fault, well okay it is partly Matt's fault for being so god damned sweet and romantic but it was bound to happen eventually. Can't hide from the real world forever, which is exactly what I have been doing since Jessie died. I saw too much humanity that week, I broke so many hearts, so many lives. I held so many people while they broke down. I broke down. So when the opportunity to shield myself behind Zack arose I grabbed onto it with all I had, and I held on for 6 years. No shield now, which explains how this hole got punched through my chest. I wish that I could lock myself in a room and just write for the rest of my life. Never meeting anyone new, never having any visitors, never worrying about what anyone thinks of me or what everyone is doing. Just me in that windowless white room, just me and my words, no love, no pain, no anything. Numb. That is what I want to be. I just want to be numb.

Jesus H Christ

Men, no, BOYS are exhausting.

Never mind.

Just... never mind. I don't want to cry anymore.

Okay.

Feeling better. Feeling stronger. I stand in my apartment, my place, my haven and I feel the strength seeping into me. I am standing on my own again. I am my own again. It feels good. Do I still hope that he will change his mind while he was away and come back into my arms? Hell yes I do. Will I survive if he doesn't? Hell yes I will. I know that I don't have to be alone, I know that if I threw on some girly things and went out to the bar tonight someone would hit on me. That's not ego, I really don't understand it, it's just experience. Maybe sometime soon I will even let one of them pick me up, but now? No. It's still just him. Stupid him. Hah. So careful, so afraid that this is headed somewhere he doesn't want to go, so afraid of titles. Afraid. I was afraid at first, and then he made it all go away. I wonder if I can do the same for him? Either way, I forgot how great, how FANTASTIC it feels to have my own place. No parents, no roommates, just me and my space. That is my bed. That is my bathroom. That is my refrigerator. Those are my clothes. It is all mine, it all belongs to me and only me. And the strength seeps in, will the weakness still catch up with me now and again? I wouldn't be human if it didn't. But I will overcome it, I always do, and I don't, won't, need anyone's help in doing so.

Practice makes perfect.

My mind is learning quickly how best to protect me. Whenever my thoughts stray to a sweet comment, a gentle touch, a random kiss on the back of my neck, those beautiful idea that were laid out in front of me just days ago... whenever it strays in those directions this big iron gate slams down and stops them mid-step. It makes things easier. I didn't mean to hurt him when I said that I wished I could erase those weeks from my memory, I was only trying to make him understand the hurt that the memories from those days and nights cause me. I wish that I didn't remember the time he pulled me into his chest while we waiting in the line to see Toy Story; or how when I picked him up from home the first thing he did, even though I was on the phone, was swoop in for a kiss like he couldn't wait another second; or how he told me that I should go for it, touch him, hold his hand and put my arm around him wherever we were because he swore, pinky promised, he would never pull away; or how good and natural it felt to fall asleep next to him and wake up to him nuzzling my neck in the morning... all the little things, the tiny things that no one else has ever given me, those are the things that shoot through my armor and pierce me, make me bleed. I wish I could forget those tiny things, the things that made me so deliriously happy that I had to tell every one of my friends about them right away. I will stop texting him about all of this, it won't change a thing and it only makes me look like a pathetic, weak, sort of clingy ...something. Who would want to be with that? I will just pour it all out here and hope that he has forgotten the blog's address and doesn't read it. If he does read it? If you are reading it... hell. I guess I've never been anything but honest with you about all things, and I let all of my guards down with you, showing you this blog when I've shown it to no one else proves that. Hope it doesn't freak you out just how attached I got to you, how much I am hurting even though we had only known each other for a month. Maybe I hope that reading all of this will show you... something and make you change your mind. Though it would probably only solidify your decision being that it sounds like I am asking for commitment. That isn't the case babe. I don't want commitment, I don't want titles, I just want those little things back, those little things that kept me smiling, kept me going. That is all that I would ask of you, all that I would need. But I have a feeling that even that is asking too much.

And so the iron gates slam shut again, locking all those beautiful memories behind them, far away from me. And I will go on as though I am not hurting, as though I am not already missing it all, I will go on as a soldier again and I will no longer allow this yearning to drag me under.

Idiot.

How did I let this happen? I went from being independent and alright with it to waiting for his texts, staring at my buddy lists waiting for his name to appear. Pathetic. Fucking pathetic Dani. Seriously fucking pathetic. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I've got 2 options I guess. First, I could go with what he wants and be his friend, his good friend. Second, I could disappear, he didn't know that I existed a little over a month ago and I can make that happen again. Sever all ties, a book out of the Levi's book. Mother fucker. Both of them would be hard. The entire time that we are friends I will just be waiting for him to realize he misses what we were before and to take it back and kiss me again... and if what he has been saying is anything to go by, that isn't going to happen. If I disappear I will miss him, I'll miss talking to him online for hours and texting over a hundred texts back and forth a day... though it sort of looks like all of that is going to change anyhow, no matter what he says. CHRIST I have been crying on and off for 2 days straight, what the fuck is wrong with me? I didn't even cry this much after Zack broke up with me. Fuck I don't even know who this is. Friends that I have had for years, over a decade, wonder what got into me. I don't let my guards down, I don't jump in without thinking, I don't let myself get vulnerable like that and I never have. But I did, it took less than a fucking day. Less that 12 hours. A month smiling like a moron at every text, every message, every word, kiss, touch, just being so stupid, blind happy that I wasn't thinking, that my walls fell and now here I am. Fucking sobbing. Daily. And worse is that I can't stop myself from reaching out over and over hoping... hoping he says what? Does what? Christ I'm obnoxious and pathetic and stupid and not ME. I am supposed to be STRONG. Fuck this. Fuck whatever this is. I guess if it could make me so happy so fast it's no wonder it can completely crush me just as efficiently. And if I had to use one word to describe me I would go with 'crushed.' I feel like a damned kicked puppy. I was sitting there all happy and stupid, wanting nothing but to please, and I got booted. Hard. It doesn't matter how nice the guy is, hell maybe the nicer they are the worse it is, that punch in the heart always takes the breath out of me. Always? He is only the third guy to ever do this to me, only the third guy to set me aside. I guess I can say always because Zack did it so many times that I should be full up for a lifetime. I wish he was awful. He is incapable of being anything but a great guy and it makes it worse in a way. When I told Domo that I needed a hug today hi response was "oh shit, who do I need to knock out?" I wish I could've given a name, been pissed enough to want to see that. But nope, pathetic puppy, still sitting here and hoping he will turn around. Mother fucker I sound like a fucking lunatic. Sever ties. I don't see any way around it. Disappear. It will be like I never existed. Get ready heart, here we go.

Broken.

Covered in bruises inside and out. I just want to be allowed to be happy, no strings attached, no titles, no promises. Just happy. I deserve it don't I? Haven't I paid my dues? But there is always something. There are always those lines, the ones that haunt my brain, the voices intermingling.

"I like you too much, it scares me."

"I'm not ready for that kind of commitment."

"We can still be friends."

The next time I allow myself to feel for someone I think I will tell them right off the bat, if you want to end things at any point just skip all of the lines and punch me in the gut. Then just walk away, I'll get the point, I'll feel exactly the same and it will save time.

I don't want to be a girlfriend again. I have been a girlfriend for a quarter of my life. I don't know what I want to be and I don't want to, didn't want to, think about it. I just want to be happy. I just want to know that there is someone there that is in just as deep as I am, that is just as lost in it as I am. It is scary and it makes you vulnerable but if it makes you happy just fucking go for it. I learned a long time ago, the hard way, that you can't wait for things to happen, you have to take them as they come, enjoy the moments, make them count, be happy. Because it could all be over tomorrow, just like that. There is this James Dean quote: "Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today." I lived my life by that quote on top of one that I just realized is ridiculously, almost painfully, fitting. Mario Andretti: "If you feel in control, you're just not going fast enough." I want to run, I want to fly, i want things to happen but the world is pumping the brakes around me and I feel trapped, stuck in gridlock traffic and banging my fists against the steering wheel. I wish I had the guts to just get out of the car, get out of the crush, and run for it. Run for miles, run forever and never look back. Instead, here I am, living my life in slow motion, agonizing over every day, not so much living as though they were my last but wishing they were my last instead.

Soldier

I've been through a hell of a lot worse and come out alive. I always tell myself that when I get hurt and it sort of helps. It reminds me of what a soldier I was the day Jessie died, how I took charge while my parents and the world around me crumbled, how I got through telling everyone that they're 14 year old friend had hung herself in her closet, how I held them and was there for them and told them that everything would be okay even though I didn't believe a word I said and just wanted to curl up in a ball and never stop crying. I did that. I was a soldier. Which is why I get so pissed when I break down, when I get hurt. Nothing should be able to touch me after what I have been through, I have been trained in the art of hurting. But I still cry, I'm still human, I'm not the soldier that I want to be and I hate it. Jessie fucking broke me. I don't know where I got the strength to handle that day, that week, that month, adrenaline maybe? Because I have wanted to die from the sheer anguish nearly every day for the past 6 years. I've wanted the world to stop, I've wanted to go to sleep and never wake up, I've just wanted it all to go away and stay away. Hell maybe I am a soldier for staying alive through all of that, lord knows there have been times where I took too many pills on purpose, times that I drove too fast hoping I'd lose traction and slam into a tree or off a bridge, but I'm still here and staying here, whether I like it or not. And the answer is generally 'not.' So there we go, I talk myself into soldier mode again because doing so is quite possibly the only thing that keeps me alive.

Fly Leaf- Feel's Like Falling

When I said good morning
I was lying
I was truly thinking of
How I might quit waking up

He pointed out how selfish
It would be to kill myself
So I keep waking up

It feels so much like falling
Dying while I wait to die
The fear of something or nothing
Lonely empty lie

I don't want to be here, lying
I don't want to be selfish anymore
I want so much to change
Learning your love everyday
There's still so much to know

You grip my wrists
I let go

It feels so much like falling
Separated from the fear
Aware of a destination far away from here


It feels so much like falling
Separated from the fear
Aware of a destination far away from here
Far away from here

Why hello there Depression. What's that you say? You want to punch me in the face?

My life is lived upon a set of train tracks. Part of the time I am picking the Forget Me Nots that grow between the railroad ties and pretending the endless steel beams are a balance beam on which I walk one step in front of the other, heel to toe, heel to toe,, sometimes doing some gymnastics moves I learned in a past life. It is a contented existence, just me and my flowers, I sit on the beams and I watch the sun rise and set and I smile at the change in color.

But then sometimes those steel bars begin to vibrate and I know that the time has come. Sometimes I fight it, I run as far from the tracks as I can, trampling the Forget Me Nots and getting grass stains on my dress, I try to climb the fence that surrounds me, the one that I only notice when I feel the train,my fingers bleed from trying to climb the tall wooden fence and my hands and feet are full of splinters. My own blood tracks my futile attempt to climb the unclimbable wall. Then I blink and I am back. Standing in the center of the tracks, watching the pebbles hop and feeling the ground move as it comes closer. I look over at the bloody mess I made of the fence, at the trampled flowers, at my bloody fingertips, and I want to try again. I close my eyes in dread because my feet are made of concrete and I know that any second now that train is going to lay me flat.

Other times, when I feel ground moving and see that light off in the distance, I merely sigh and take up my post. I know there is no use fighting, this is who I am and this is the price that I pay for being that person. I lie across the tracks, rest my head on the cool steel beam and watch everything around me scatter at the train's approach. I see the bright light in front and the shadow that is the faceless driver, I see the wheels come towards where my head lies and then it is there and I am gone.

And then there are the times when I don't feel or see the warning signs at all, too caught up frolicking and picking my flowers and laughing to pay attention. And then I stand from picking a small bouquet of the blue flowers and there is the train and within seconds I am obliterated.

This time it was the latter. I have been doing so well even under the stressful circumstances that I am under. I have been smiling and laughing and going out and hating my life a little less every day. But then this afternoon I lifted my head and there it was and, like always, I didn't stand a chance.

I wanted to write it out or cry it out but living in my mother's living room as I do and she was already on her way home from work, that was not an option. So I took 2 Tylenol with Codeine, 3 Klonopin, 2 Ambien, 2 Benadryl and the last of the Nyquil. I have found that the more drugs you take the faster you, generally, are knocked out. Which is the point. It is like... sedating a wild animal before it can do it or anyone else any harm. Well that isn't exactly it, I do it because getting hit by that god damned train isn't exactly a picnic and I'd like to sleep through the after effects than spend the next several hours crying and fighting the urge to do something dangerous with the sharpest knife we own. No that does not mean slit my wrists, it means cut. Just cut and watch the blood and breathe knowing that, though I may not have control over my brain and that damned train, I have control over my own body.

Where am I now? Tired and embarrassed. Zack got used to the lows (the post-train wreck me) after about 4 years and generally handled them, and me, the best he could. I wish that I could have hidden this wreck from Matt but the god damned train hit me mid-conversation. I showed him this blog one idiotic night to "warn" him about me but I had hoped that he would never have to face that side. I feel as though, as long as I am the way that I am (which we have concluded is going to be the rest of my life) I will be alone. I am too much to handle, too much baggage, too much crazy. Sure there will be men, such as Zack, who will love me and handle it but in the end they will do what he did in the end and give up. He said that he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take and I wanted to scream because he isn't the one who is mangled and bleeding inside. I am. But he was just over it, he pulled out other excuses but I knew that it was coming. Always did when I would curl up in his arms sobbing and he would fail to soothe me in that exasperated voice of his. I don't blame him for giving up, I'm not sure that i would hang around me if I had a choice. I'm a ticking time bomb of crazy here and you never know if you're going to be caught in the blast or stuck with the clean-up.

Perhaps it will be some sort of competition, the rest of my life that is. How long can they handle me before they realize I am not worth all the trouble. How long until they give up on fixing me, give up on making me smile?

The record to beat is 6 years and I am amazed Zack lasted that long.

This is the song that I fell asleep to earlier. Sort of fitting.
Lykke Li: Possibility

There’s a possibility
There’s a possibility
All that I had was all I gon’ get
There’s a possibility
There’s a possibility
All I gon get is gone with your step

So tell me when you hear my heart stop,
You’re the only who knows
Tell me when you hear my silence
There’s a possibility
I wouldn’t know

Know that when you leave
Know that when you leave
By blood and by mean
You walk like a thieve
By blood and by mean
I fall when you leave

So tell me when you hear my heart stop,
You’re the only who knows
Tell me when you hear my silence
There’s a possibility
I wouldn’t know

Tell me when my sigh is over
You’re the reason why I’m close
Tell me if you hear me falling
There's a possibility
It wouldn’t show

By blood and by mean
I fall when you leave
By blood and by mean
I follow your lead

Look at me go.

I haven't written in two weeks. Why? Because I am alright, because I am okay. Sure I might be sleeping in past 4pm most days and feeling like a total lazy fat ass, but even with that I am alright. I don't cry. I don't feel depressed. I don't hope and pray that Zack will call. He actually did, last night that is, he called me while he was all loopy on Ambien, talking about how much he missed me and how it would be a bad idea for me to come sleep over for a night but he so wanted me to anyhow. It didn't hurt. It didn't even sting. I just told him to go to bed, get some sleep, alone. I was a little annoyed that he was interrupting the conversation I was having with Matt. I laugh when I talk to Matt, when I talk to Zack... lord only knows what I will do, but most of the time it includes tears. I am good on the tears for now. There is this song by Kate Nash that I adore because of the chorus alone. It is called Merry Happy.

Watching me like you never watch no one
Don't tell me that you didn't try and check out my bum
Cause I know that you did
Cause your friend told me that you liked it

Gave me those pearls and I thought they were ugly
Though you try to tell me that you never loved me
I know that you did
'Cause you said it and you wrote it down

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do
So I learnt form you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own

Sitting in restaurants
Thought we were so grown up
But I know now that we were not the people
That we turned out to be

Chatting on the phone
Can't take back those hours
But I won't regret
'Cause you can grow flowers
From where dirt used to be

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

Dancing at discos
Eating cheese on toast
Yeah you make me merry make me very very happy
But you obviously, you didn't want to stick around

So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do
So I learnt from you
Do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own
(do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do)

I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone, yeah
I can watch a sunset on my own
I can be alone
I can watch a sunset on my own
(do do do da do do do do do da do do do do do da do)

It is that line: I can watch a sunset on my own, I can be alone yeah. I can. I can be alone. I can look at the sky and feel okay, alone. I can go to sleep at night without having that overwhelming need to talk to him, to tell him good night. I can exist, I can live, I can smile and laugh and do even better than I was, and I can do it all on my own. That is a serious epiphany right there. Seriously. I have been afraid that he would leave me for 6 very long years because I wasn't sure how I could possibly lead a happy existence without him. It sounds melodramatic maybe but 6 years of being completely in love with someone is a long time, it is a lot, I gave him every little bit that I am and I never regretted it. I still can't bring myself to regret it. I was mostly happy and he loved me with as much as he could. I just deserve more love than he could give me. So I am not afraid anymore. I am a 22 year old woman who is looking at the world for the first time and I am smiling and excited and just itching to get this life started.

Nicest Thing.

All I know is that you're so nice
You're the nicest thing I've seen
I wish that we could give it a go
See if we could be something

I wish I was your favourite girl
I wish you thought I was the reason you are in the world
I wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile
I wish the way that I dressed was your favourite kind of style

I wish you couldn't figure me out
But you always wanna know what I was about
I wish you'd hold my hand
When I was upset
I wish you'd never forget
The look on my face when we first met

I wish you had a favourite beauty spot
That you loved secretly
'Cause it was on a hidden bit
That nobody else could see
Basically, I wish that you loved me
I wish that you needed me
I wish that you knew when I said two sugars,
Actually I meant three

I wish that without me your heart would break
I wish that without me you'd be spending the rest of your nights awake
I wish that without me you couldn't eat
I wish I was the last thing on your mind before you went to sleep

Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen
And I wish that we could see if we could be something
Yeah I wish that we could see if we could be something

This is going to be me.

The end.

And so here it is. The end. He calls it a break, I call it the end. I need to. Once something has ended you don't wait for it to come back. I can't wait. I won't. I can't. My mind is clear, it knows that this is for the best, that being without him, the man he is now, is the best. But this ache in my chest disagrees. It is odd that emotional pain can actually cause real physical pain. It would be easier if it didn't, if that ache in my chest weren't there to remind me that something, someone, was missing. There is a chance that someday, far in the future I am sure, he will come back and he will be different. He will still be the Zack that I love, but he will have grown up, he will have gotten over his childhood trauma, he will have gotten over his debilitating fear of commitment and he will have realized what a fool he was to let me go. But there is also the chance that he will find some other woman, one who rides motorcycles and knows all about airplanes and has tight abs. And he will date her, and marry her. He mentioned dating and marrying someone else when we talked today, as we finalized it. It cut, stabbed, burned, hurt. I never thought of that scenario before. I had thought of he and I together, I had thought of me with someone else and he alone. Selfish of me to think that I would be the one to get the happy ending. Wouldn't it be ironic if he was married less than a year after he joined up? Ironic or horrifically painful? The latter. I should get off this subject, the pain grows with it.

I will cry, at some point I will cry, when is a mystery. I don't want to yet though. I took 4 Klonopin, 3 Tylenol PM and 2 Benadryl, I just want to go to sleep before the pain hits and the tears come. If I am not asleep in an hour I am taking 2 more of something. My body can handle it, if not, it was meant to be. I guess this is sort of a disclaimer, if all the pills I just took wind up killing me tonight, it wasn't on purpose, it isn't on purpose, I am not suicidal. I just want to sleep. I feel peaceful right now, maybe not happy, more torn really. But I am at peace, I know that the decision that was made earlier today was the right one and I will stand by that and keep believing that and I will make it through this. Even if it does take heavy, ill-advised over-medicating.

We all cope in our own ways no?

Goodnight sweetheart, time to go.

Dryer - Seen Enough

* I've seen enough to know I've seen enough, seen enough to know
* There go my eyes remind me next time so I keep them closed
* I like to pine away for what I hate it keeps me in the dark
* Just like a one-track-mind dont let me start you keep me sharp
*
* Once more into the crowd
* Temptation wears you out
* Go home your heart's too loud
* always
*
* It's no surprise that all the things I like are making me a ghost
* I should have never started killing time I can't go slow
*
* Once more into the crowd
* Temptation wears you down
* Go home your heart's too loud for all the ways out

Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone.

The air is so thick with it that we can hardly breathe. It clogs our throats and stills our tongues, why can't we just say it? Talk about it? You are leaving me. What is to come of us? Of me? Nothing. Nothing at all is to come of us, you are leaving me behind and though that is just as I always knew that it would end, my heart aches. My eyes beg me to let them cry, my mind screams and my heart cracks but we will not talk. We will play the same game that we have been playing for over six years, we will "cross that bridge when we come to it," we will worry about it when it happens... except that it is happening. The call could come months from now, weeks from now, tomorrow, and then you will be gone and I will be left waving good-bye and trying my damnedest to look as though I am not dying.

All of these people write of love and happy endings. I read a romantic novel a night and sneak in a "chick flick" whenever possible. Does that make it worse? Is that why my heart is so idiotically optimistic? I just have to believe in it, in that love that they all write about. If it weren't out there, if it didn't exist, no one would write about it would they? Right? It has to be out there, if it doesn't exist then I will never find it and I want to find it. So badly. I want the love that the books and the movies are made of. I feel that love now, that all consuming need to be with him, to make him happy, to see him smile, to hear him laugh. I am happiest when I am with him, most at home in his arms and yet... and yet, how shall I say? "No cigar." Is it worse, having this love without the aforementioned happy ending? Would I, my heart, have been better off without knowing it? In the saddened state in which I currently reside I will say yes. I love him and the memories with him are dear, but once he is gone they will tear me in two.

Telling him all this only hurts him more. I am not the only one suffering, he loves me as well, just not enough. So instead of talking to him, pleading with him, here I am, alone with my words. I am sure that speaking with him is the healthier option, healthier than holding it all in, keeping my mouth shut when we are together and ignoring the terrible tension between us. But I just can't do it, I can't cause him pain, I won't. Besides, everyone is always telling me how strong I am, how I underestimate myself, perhaps this, suffering in silence, will prove you all right.

And when he is gone I will go on. The world will keep turning and I along with it. And perhaps someday I will get my happy ending, if not with him then with someone else who can feel that overwhelming love just as deeply as I know I am capable of. And then happily ever after, right? Someone to come home to every night, someone to laugh at my jokes (as terrible as they are), someone to calm me down when it feels as though the world is out to get me (as it always seems to be), someone to just hold me and let me cry when a bi-polar low hits be hard, someone to be there. Someone I can count on. Always. No second guessing, no worrying that I am not enough. No more knowing that I am not enough.

Someday I will have someone who says things like this:

“I love that you get cold when it’s 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle in your nose when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts. I love that after I spend day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it’s not because I’m lonely, and it’s not because it’s New Year’s Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”


“So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard. We’re gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, for ever, you and me, every day."



Someday. Please don't let it be too far away.

Dani?! Where have you been???

So I am going to attempt to have another go at the book again. Recently, and by recently I mean since the last post that was related to the book, there has just been a lot of stressed caused by school, family and just life in general and it has made writing anything coherent/well thought out nearly impossible. This is evident in the past few posts which I will dub as 'bi-polar posts' because trust me, there will be more. If you are uncomfortable with reading those types of posts feel free to skip over them but this is my personal blog and I need a place to vent so it is only natural that I vent here. I am also hoping to follow Treading Water (the memoir about Jessie and the aftermath) up with another short piece on depression: how it effects/hurts those who suffer from it and the ones who love them and how it can be handled/treated correctly. My 'bipolar posts' are a window directly into the mind of a person suffering from bipolar disorder and I think that, come the time that I begin writing that piece, those posts will serve me well.

I have been in a low for the past several weeks and am working on clawing my way out, I see the horizon and that makes it easier to breathe. Carly's mom (if you read the memoir thus far you should know who Carly is but if you have not, she is one of my closest friends) was admitted to Bronson Hospital a few days ago with pneumonia and a lung infection, she has been in critical care since. She is hooked up to a defibrillator and has been placed into a medical sleep (coma is too scary of a word) to lessen any discomfort all of the tubes and wires would cause her. This woman was so close to me in high school that I called her Mom without even thinking about it. She is one of the most selfless, caring, loving, resilient women that I know and knowing that she is in the condition that she is in terrifies me. Bad things shouldn't happen to good people, but look at my family, look at my Aunt Linda and her family... we were/are good people, and it doesn't get much more 'bad' than death. My faith in optimism is shaken, was destroyed when Jessie died, in the stages of being rebuilt before Aunt Linda died, and now it is standing on very weak legs. So I could use some help, I know that several of the people who read this are much more religious than I am, which in a way makes me think you have more power, but I do know that you have prayer circles and things... could you please pray for her? For Laura Woodruff? She is an amazing woman and I don't know what might have happened to me during high school if it weren't for she and her daughter. Please send her your positive energy and prayers and thoughts, we already know that she is going to be asleep and on the defibrillator in critical care until Sunday but let us hope her sleep is restful and that soon after she wakes she is healed and able to return home healthy.

Thanks all. For the past two days my life has consisted of school, finishing graduation party invitations (which will be sent out tomorrow!) and worrying about Mamma Woodruff. Carly is flying in from Boston on Sunday, her older brother, Spencer, who is also a good friend of mine, will be here from Arizona tomorrow. The troops are rallying, strength in numbers. So let us hope that the stress declines from here on out, because a mind free of the burden of stress is a mind that can be productive. What can a productive mind do? It can finally finish this damned book!!!

It's too late to apologize.

She is dead. I was a stupid 16 year old and I thought that I was so much better than her. I looked down on her. I loathed spending time with her. I fought with her. And now it is too late to apologize. It is too late to tell her that I love her, that she wasn't a bad sister, that I wanted to grow up with her. Too late. I watch siblings yell now, say things now, and my heart breaks and my eyes tear up and I grind my teeth in anger. SOMEDAY IT WILL BE TOO LATE. SOMEDAY YOU WILL REGRET WHAT YOU JUST SAID. I want to scream, I want them to understand. Someday they will remember that moment, remember the yelling, remember the hurt in the others' eyes, and it will tear them apart. Please, listen to me, please... but I guess that it is just one of those things that people have to learn the hard, terrible, worst way possible. You have to lose someone in order to realize how important it is to tell those you care about that you love them, to compliment them, tell them that you are proud of them, that they are beautiful... before it is too late. This list of things I said to Jessie that I wish I could take back is miles long, and the list of things that I wish I had said but never did might be longer. Regret. It punches holes in you and it beats you down, you beat yourself down, because you have no one to blame but yourself.

Don't fret.

That last one was intense wasn't it? I don't really want to apologize for it though. It is sort of like a backstage pass to what happens inside my head at breaking point. I don't break. I rant and I rave and I hate and so and scream, but I don't break. I write it out. And at the end there, when I said that I exhaled, it is exactly how I felt. It is like all of this pain builds up and has nowhere to go until I just let myself go, let myself feel, and then cry, and then hate, and then cry a lot more, and then it just... goes. And I can breathe again. Then I look back at what I have written and I am reminded that I overcame that. I did that. I was strong enough to do that yet again, and it assures me that I will be strong enough next time as well. It helps.

I am bipolar, this is my life. I am on medication and it helps immensely. Without it I am just a shell, a capsule of pain and I am good at nothing but hurting. Sure I am not exactly awesome now, while on the medications, but I can function. I can go to school, I can make friends, I can have a boyfriend and go to work and graduate from college. I can do what all of you can despite the way that I am wired. The only way to make the "lows" (what you witnessed last night and what I had been feeling all week) go away is to hop myself up on so many mood stabilizers, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds that I am no longer myself. So I make the trade.

The lows seep in, I always feel them coming, there are tell tale signs: I can't get out of bed in the morning and even after I have woken, showered and dressed, I crawl right back into bed again; I don't want to go out and see people, talk to people; I don't want to eat, it takes too much effort; and I am sad... for no real sane reason. The depression just seeps into my bones and it is nearly impossible to ward off because there is no real tangible cause. How do you fight an invisible demon? How do you defend yourself against an enemy who isn't even there? You don't. You can't. And that only makes it worse, because then I feel crazy for being depressed for no reason, and then I get depressed because I am crazy and on and on and on until it all comes to a head and THERE. There you have last night's post. It all pours out, all of that oozing, sad, depressing evil, it all just slips away, the grip around my throat, around my heart, loosens; the haze in my mind dissipates; and I am me again. And I smile even though tears still cling to my lashes; I smile because I did it again. I conquered it again. I was strong. I am strong. Sometimes you just need to let yourself break down for a few moments for that realization to kick in.

What a waste

I have been depressed all week. No real reason, with me there never really has to be one. Bipolar. Awesome. Roller coaster in my head. I have been going to the gym and it helps, makes me feel good and energized. But then, at night when it is time for me to lie alone and go to sleep, I have to take at least 4 pills just to shut my head off. Is there no winning? I didn't go to the gym. I wanted to but knew that my body needed a rest. My shins and arms and back were screaming, not going to the gym for a year and then going 3 days in a row can do that to you I suppose. So I didn't get that boost. So I went to Meijer and bought 2 bottles of champagne instead. This is not entirely a bad idea, sure drinking isn't the answer blah blah blah, but when I am boozed up, when I am sad, I can write. Look at me, look at me write. I didn't always want to be a writer you know. It is just that my teachers all said I was so good at it, and it always made me feel better when I felt sad. So I thought, why not? What have I always wanted to do? To be? Since I was itty bitty. I want to act. I want to act and I know I can. But what kind of job is that? Hell, what kind of job is writing? What a waste I am. This is less of an addition to my "book" and more of a depressed/my life fucking sucks rant. Sometimes you just have to rant you know? Hold on, gotta go refill my wine glass.

Strawberry flavored $4 champagne. Yum.

So I was thinking that I would get on here all depressed and on the way to drunk and write something phenomenal. Nothing phenomenal is coming to mind. Maybe I need to be depressed sans drunk for that. I'm not all that depressed anymore actually, more apathetic, hurrah for self medicating! I just miss Jessie. Surprise surfrickenprise. And now I want to cry. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her and I want to say that over and over and over again until it is true because then I won't miss her so much. Loving her hurts so much more. She broke me. She completely shattered me, she took me with her. I've never been like everyone else, and everyone who really knew me knew that, but I was okay. I got by. Dr. Stern, my psychiatrist, even said that Jessie was the trigger to this mental fuckfest in my head. I had real dreams, solid dreams, ones that I could touch. Now? Now everything terrifies me, the future most of all. It is so fucked you know? Most people fear death right? That is pretty much the one thing that I don't fear. I fear the future, I fear getting hurt, I fear growing up, I fear feeling. Death? Whatever, it can do what it wants with me. You would think that that would give me an edge, laughing in the face of death right? Nah, to afraid to laugh most of the time.

I am saying fuck a lot in this, sorry Grandpa, sometimes you just have to curse.

You all know about Mom and Dad now. I could probably go into something deep as far as that goes but I just decided not to. You are welcome parents.

Fuck. When she first died the pain was almost constant. Then, within about a day, it started coming in waves, every few hours or so the wave would hit and drag me under and claw at me and rob me of breath and leave me wanting to die too. Then it would pass and I would be able to function again... until the next wave hit. Then the waves started coming days apart, then weeks, now months... Do they ever completely go away? This is the first real bad episode I have had in months. I am not sure if I am grateful for that. At least when those waves hit me over and over again I remembered her over and over again. Now she lives in the back of my head, crouched in a dark corner somewhere amongst the murky water, rocky walls, darkness... waiting. I stuck her in a box, she deserved it, she deserved to be shoved in a fucking mental box and crammed into a dark corner. I don't want to think about her, I don't want to miss her, I just want to be normal. NORMAL. Amanda escaped the worst of it, and Amanda, if you are reading, I am not belittling your pain or you or your experience, she wasn't right here, right in the middle, she was already growing and making her own life, carving out her own place in the world. Me? I was still a hunk of unmolded clay and Jessie's suicide punched a hole right through me. I was only 16. 16. I was just a baby. I though that I was so grown up then but I was just a kid, I was still a kid and she took that from me and it isn't fair because now I don't know where I am. Part of me still feels 16, another part feels 100. I am all over the place, shattered all over the place, broken all over the place.

I am graduating in the spring. Congratulations me. Go me. Now what? Now I keep on pretending, Keep on trying to be what everyone says I should be, do what everyone says I should do. Keep on going, growing, surviving, treading water when I would really rather just sink. I would rather just sink. I would rather just sink. sink. sink.

And that is that. Exhale. Breathe. Breathe again Dani. And I breathe. And Jessie is back in her box and I am back in my mold and life goes on. No more crying,I dry my eyes for the final time tonight because I know that it is over. For now.

Cheers.