June.

This tree, once rich with honey
once strong by nature
once beautiful by wind and bursts of laughter
has sunken with the sun.
It's leaves, once lush with dew
now cloud earth's ground with flakey amber
with dusty color.
And everlasting dull
that succumbed the tree.
It's limbs extend outward
to maybe graze the blue sky with the tips of it's fingers...
They're bare. Unable to thrive.
And in the middle of the heated day
that surrounds it on this morn
haunts every hope of an oncoming birth.
For it's hot
and humid
and sticky with dry laughter
yet it's bloom never arives
amidst the sun of June.

Nobody's Perfect.

You know how that saying that Hannah Montana way over used in her song? That line that goes, "Everybody makes mistakes/everybody has those days." you know. The song, "Nobody's Perfect." 

I think that songs wrong. 

I think, there are those people out there that really DONT make mistakes. Mistakes just happen to them. They don't cause them, but they are the ones the mistakes happen to and effect. 

I feel this way...because I've met someone like that. 
A great girl. Big heart. Huge love. One of the most loving and kindest people one could....ever meet. But all these things happened to her. Things she didn't do. 

Know how in 6th grade they teach you cause and effect? 
She was always the effect. 
Never the cause. 
So she NEVER made a mistake. She was always the result of a mistake somebody ELSE made. I think I've pounded that in your head, yes? 

Just found out she died. 
Ya, Courtney, my friend from kindergarten, was once again the effect.  

We hadn't talked since our last pen pal convo in 4th grade. She moved when her dad got a divorce against her mom. Not her fault. But she had to move so her mom could take a job and moved the summer going into 1st grade. 

Needless to say, that girl was so sweet. Been in foster care. We knew the stories. Especially my "group" we had one wednesday a month to talk about hard things. My mom had put me in there cuz my dad and her fought 24/7/365. And.... My dad has this liver disease. But Courtney... Was always so serene. So calm. So positive. I didn't understand. 

I remember she had these scratches on her arm. Bruises even, but more than the average  We were taking snow clothes off, and it was after I punched a kid in the face (big huge Nate now, but he was tiny and chubby back in the day) and she was there so we went to the office. She took her snow clothes off and and i noticed. But she smiled and shrugged it off. 

I still dunno what those were from.... 

Courtney used to be by my side when I got picked on. Stood up for me when my blocks were knocked over. Helped me with whiteboard alphabet activies I have vague memories of doing under a table. 

She was one great girl. But bad things happened to her. She was always a consequence to somebody's ridiculous mistake. 

So when I found out.... 
That it was a car crash she hadn't caused. Stupid idiot ran a stop sign and t-boned her... 
I thought back to Hannah Montana. (unfortunately) 

Everybody makes mistakes. 
Everybody has those days. 
Nobody's perfect. 

Somebody didn't make mistakes, oh Miss Hannah. She wasn't perfect, but she didn't make mistakes. 

And now she's gone. 
Sad effect. 

::

So in retrospect, what if I am one big mistake? I think about this a lot. 

When my parents fight over how to raise me. How my mom thinks this and dad that and bicker bicker bicker throwing phones, missing moms, phone calls to cops and screaming fits and suicide threats. 

All cuz of me. 
All about me. 

So what If I'm the mistake? 
Hell, if I wasn't born, my dad could go back to being some drunk druggie and my mom to being alone like she always wanted as she tells me. If I wasn't born, mom could have broke up with him. Divorced him and been happy like she isn't Now. 

Or.... 
When I get good things and screw them up cuz of 
My pessimisim
My attitude
Sarcasm
Clinginess
Stupidity
Selfishness
The list goes on, really. 

So maybe, Miss Montana, that song was written for me. 

But what about those out there, who THINK they're the mistake when they're the effect of somebody elses? 

Well, I wish I knew the answer to that. 

In any case, 
RIP Courtney. Kindergarten buddy.  

I wanna hold onto the things I so desperately can't.
I want to breathe in an take a breather and calm the fuck down.

But sometimes- that isn't an option and my anxiety thinks otherwise.

I've always been an open book. Needed people more than I need air just because I've been alone my whole life otherwise. Clinging to comments that make me feel worth something, comments I don't otherwise hear. And this gets me in trouble along with my depression. I get kicked out of things and lose friends becasue I'm so bloddy depressed.

And I don't think people understand depression.

Because when somebody is depressed...the last thing that person needs is to be left alone and to lose everyone. They want to feel loved just like everyone else. But I know I'm a lot to deal with. In many cases, I try my bloody best to slap on a smile and walk around making jokes and random comments as much as possible. It's why eveeryone at work likes when I'm working. I'm a good actress.

But sometimes, I make the mistake of telling people how I feel, and it pisses them off more than ever leaving me alone to sit and think over and over what I did wrong. To think over an over what the eff my problem is. To think over and over why I let that slip and lost something really good that I work hard to keep.

I never mean to hurt anyone in anyway. To make anyone cry as much as I do over them. To hurt anyone feelings. To Stab anyone in the back. I try really hard to make everyone happy, because a lot of the time, I'm not happy myself. And if I can make someone happy- my depression calms down a bit. If I have someone by my side, it's possible to get thru it.

Maybe people need space and I need to respect that.
But being alone hurts really bad. And it's something I've had too much experience with.

I Need A Wish

I wish I didn't fear.
I wish I wasn't so afraid of losing you.
I wish I didn't fear my love for you. That it could get thrown in my face.
I wish you'd never leave me.
I wish I could fly and let life fall behind me.

I wish I could get out feelings.
I wish I wasn't judged.
I wish you loved me like I love you.
I wish I didn't need so much.

I wish I wasn't selfish.
I wish I couldn't cry.
I wish I wasn't confused.
I wish I wasn't so clingy.

I wish I didn't freak out over everything.
I wish I didn't doubt or assume.
I wish I could take life for what it is.

I wish I could write a good blog for once in a blue moon.

Pretty Pointless Blog

I really tried to write a good blog today. But I can't find words anymore.
Not as myself.

I wanted to write this blog about my paranoia. But everything I wrote was too personal and almost Hurt me to even write down.
Then I wanted to write this blog about my feelings on doubt. That was once again, too personal.
Then I wanted to write a blog about love.
But i've DONE that before.
So now I'm writing a blog, for lack of words.

It's like everything I write on this blog is too personal. Something that if someone reads, won't accept and will leave me.
I'm scared.
I'm scared of myself. That I'll drive everyone away.

Maybe I give too much of myself to people for them to hold on to.
Maybe I'm too possesive and maybe I should be more careful.
Maybe I need to give a shorter string of me to hold onto. But at this point, I'm not changing.
This is who I've grown up to me. Beautiful or not. This is what I am.
Paranoid.
Anxiety.
Scared.
Rejected.
Loved- I think.
Depressed.
Happy.
Stable and unstable.

You know how in Hercules they have those life strings?
And if they cut it, the person the strings life represents, dies?
Sometimes I feel like that's me. Waiting to be cut.
And if I get cut...cut out of something. I can't lose those who are very important to me.
If you're in my top five...I cant lose you.

I don't know what this blog is about.

I guess, as Megara said,
"People do crazy things when they're in love."

Shout It Out

i saw people doing this on deviant art. and since i can't draw for my life, i'll do it here.

SHOUT IT OUT.

i am ugly. and fat. it's a problem. and no matter how much people tell me i'm not, i still look in the mirror and hate everything i see.

i love to sing. choir is my passion and i might die without at LEAST four part harmony.

i love rainbows. they make my heart smile. along with llamas.

i'm paranoid. if you suddenly stop talking to me, i assume the worst.

i need to feel loved. otherwise i feel like a worthless sack of potatoes.

i still sleep with a pink security blanket which i call "he." He, my blanky, is also gay.

i love gay men.

i can get depressed easily. sometimes from myself.

i'm a people pleaser. i love to compliment and make others feel the way i can't. good about themselves.

i cry for stupid things.

i can only draw stereotypical stick figures

i write too much when i dont need to. then those days come where i need to vent and my paper remains blank

i resist the urges to say "I Love You."

i love hugs so ridiculously much

i need a life

i could crawl into a hole right now and cry and be happier that way.

depression is very much a physical thing for me. same with anxiety. they go hand in hand in my world and i hate it.

i'm scared at the moment

i will stay up late to please other people, even if i REALLY don't want to.

if you annoy me once, chances are you will be on the "annoying" list for all of eternity.

i'm usually a pretty good forgiver. depending on your offense.

i'm a hypocrite. and i hate that.

when i get anxiety attackes, theyre usually caused by other people. i shake, my heart races, and i have trouble breathing right. and during them? i usually get mondo depressed and reach out for help from a friend.

i depend on people

my past affected me hardcore into all i am today.

my mom can be my best friend of EVER EVER EVER but she thinks too highly of me.
other times, she hates me ALMOST as much as i hate myself. i have yet to have a steady week with her. but maybe that's just teenage life and hormones.

i have a very bad potty mouth.
and really? in person, i try VERY VERY hard to control it and sensor it.
when i'm writing?
good luck sensoring me.

can you tell my confidence is poop?

Tis My Story

Sometimes, my Mother drives me insane.

i walk downstairs and get yelled at because i want some turkey.
she told me i take advantage of her.
and i dont. i try to help.
but she always says no when i try to.

did you know i hate people like that?
the ones who tell me i should help them more, then when i offer, they say no.
and it happens a lot to me.
"you need to help me more"
"okay."
when i ask for help?
"no. its fine. i dont want ur help."

"you need to listen to me more."
"okay."
when i offer to listen to their problems?
"no, its fine. i dont want to talk about it. "

"you need to be happy more."
"okay."
when i am happy?
it isnt even noticed.

i dont understand what the eff i'm supposed to do when people say these things.
i dont want to call it hypocricy... but i dunno.

my mom is irritating. she always yells at me and tells me that i suck pretty much. we have our moments and stuff, but a lot of the time, we just fight like CRAZY. and i just dont get it. i dont understand why she seems to hate me so much.
she makes me question things. and i dont get it.

i dont get her.
i think she has some kind of disorder or SOMETHING that makes her how she is. so moody.
and she's WAY past menopause, so dont even suggest that.
she has to make everything dramatic.
gahhhhhhhhhh
okay. thats my story.