The beginning of November.

I feel extra on edge today. Extra panicky. I feel like for some reason I am externally able to cope better today but the inner sadness is overwhelming. Every time one of my bosses says my name, or if a friend seems upset about something regarding me, I feel like the world is about to end and my heart pounds crazily. None of this should matter because one day I will be dead.

However, since I'm still here...

I'm tired of this job. I'm tired of not having my "family" to fall back on. Not for monetary reasons, but for emotional ones. I'm tired of my problems spiraling out of control. I'm tired of not having the motivation for some STUPID reason to not make that first step to get into therapy. I'm tired of money problems and not being able go to go school full time (yet). I'm tired of not singing. I'm tired feeling ugly and insecure. I'm tired of my abandonment issues. I'm tired of physical pain.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. Whine, whine, whine. Complain, complain, complain. I am less than two years away from 30 and this is who I am. It's fucking pathetic.

Throughout the day...

and as I said...

Nine Forty Eight
Time to be fake and
I wonder what I am truly doing
with days that show new ways
to new wrinkles

But on my way here
I moved one of my fingers across the wheel
and I decided I wanted to write
about how I love sunlight going through my digits
turning my skin reddish-pink
then I realized I think that was the first time
such a thing happened
because before this,
I only had used artificial light during darkness
to create such an experience

My nails are painted black
for this time of year
Silly of me because I love them this way
I should do this more often
I should remain in denial
I should be true to myself
All of this at once
Why am I here?

I feel like an abandoned children's classroom
Or maybe I feel like a child abandoned in a class room
Watching all the special little projects falling off the walls

I don't belong here.
I feel like a Radiohead song (for the record I LOVE Radiohead).

I feel like nothing can or will ever help.

I never will have the "balls" to end it.
I cannot pray for death during sleep because I never pray so why would anyone/thing hear me now?
I will end up binging on misery for the rest of my days and never purging.
It's like I'm a puppet.
I'm not holding the strings that guide me/this.
I DON'T WANT TO BINGE ON MISERY.

"Why don't you get help?"
*smiles*
Help? No, no. You don't understand.
There is no help for something like this.
There is no help for someone like me.

Just distractions.
Just ...

I'm tired of not being believed about my Fibro.
I'm tired of ALL my physical problems that I have no complete control over.
I'm tired of people not understanding the mental hole I am.
I'm tired of people and tired of myself and I don't even know if I am a person to be included in this bunch.

I'm seriously considering the fact that I may be an alien.

Why when so many things seem okay, they really aren't?
I SHOULD BE HAPPY. LA LA LA BULLSHIT FUCKERY HAPPY. LA LA LA.

I wrote some miserable and some not so miserable shit on a text document at home over my couple days off last week but have not posted it due to the fact that I don't have internet hooked up yet there. I almost don't ever want it at home anymore. I just don't care. You know what I care about? Sleep. I just want to sleep. I want a giant rewind button even though I firmly believe that regret is a pointless emotion.

I have a hard time lately seeing pictures of myself. Alone or with people. Is that really me? How do others see me? Why is anyone chosen what they are chosen from skin to experiences?

I have only had one cup of coffee today. No food. If I do eat while I am here at work, it will be candy. Even though I have a lunch. I like to torture myself.

I want a cigarette but I won't bother. A) I am almost broke still, until the end of the month and B) It's been almost five weeks. WHY DO I EVEN CARE THOUGH?!

Piece of candy #1 consumed.

I need to sing.

Piece of candy #2 consumed.

I should be going to the bank for my bosses. I am procrastinating. I would walk on a day like today because the weather says so, but I am so drained.

I went to the bank.

I just want to be happy. Are my standards to high? How can such a low life have such high standards?

Swirls and spots on my skin
These patterns are mine
Damaged or not

Yep. Nope.

Simply put: I am not well. Yet I am able to talk to and help so many damn friends and other people. I cannot help myself and nobody can help me. I'm afraid to take medications because THEY NEVER WORK. I feel so trapped. I feel so fucking trapped. All this isn't a cry for help. It's just a cry. Like any other day. Tears fall from my face or I cry on the inside.

Things are supposed to be better now. I don't get it. I am disease.

Here is why three weeks with no cigarette really doesn't matter. Alternately: Temporary Atheism? Second alternate: Simply severe depression?

Words cannot express the anguish my "soul" experiences. Yet, I still write. Why? Will it serve as some magic cathartic vessel? No. It's just the slight and pathetic hope it will help. I suppose it's a distraction. Passing each dying minute of this body's "existence". Making this temporary stint on Earth seem meaningful. I find this life to be pretty cheap. Here, listen to some wonderful music. Watch the ocean crash onto land. Bake some delicious fucking cookies... Whoops! Sorry! All these things must cease for you since now you must cease. Right. Well, if you believe in an afterlife, then that's just dandy. Hey, do you think there is a 'beforelife'? Fuck. There is now. We choose what we choose to make it seem worth something. To distract from the inevitable. Hobbies, "God", work, sex, shitty writing - whatever. Pain. No pain. Old. Young. We all just go. It doesn't matter if anyone even reads this.

I am an alien.

I have 'Mr. Self Destruct' in my head and I haven't heard it in forever.

No, I will never "grow out of" NIN. You have to be out of your mind. In a completely different manner than the way I am.

I have not made attempts to get help in the past week. I don't know if it's because I'm so preoccupied with the move or if it's because I'm always awful at making that 'first step'. Or both. All I know is, I'm fucked up. Terribly so. In so many ways.

I need a tattoo or a piercing or SOMETHING soon even though I cannot afford it. I cannot cut myself anymore because it doesn't solve anything and I will lose someone because of it. It's a hard craving to push away, but I have been. Just like cigarettes (almost two weeks without any).

I went to a Project Adventure thingy yesterday that was free. Jill invited me to come along with J. We met her girlfriend, Trey, who seems sweet. Part of the group of challenges involved a gigantic rock climbing wall. I've never done such a thing before. Out of the four of us (friend wise, not group wise) I was the only one who made it up. I don't know how I did it, especially not being in the best shape lately but I did. It was the ONLY thing that made me feel semi-decent in a long time. Other than that, I wish nothing was strapped to me so I could just jump and die. Yes.

There is a lot of human nature I do not understand and find hard to accept. Most people, even my most crazy friends don't understand why I am like this. I try so hard to "give in" and "give up" but I can't. I'm left with seeming delusional to others.

Also, my Mom is being a cunt as always. I'd like to think that one day I would break this cycle and give my future children everything I never had (emotionally speaking and maybe somewhat material speaking). I also think that maybe I should never have children and just hide in a room and starve to death. I don't want to end up like her. I also want to bring lives into this world that are an extension of me and have them live the life I never could and that would make me feel happy in and of itself. If I have to be a vessel, then fine.

I'm out of my mind. I don't want to be sitting here at work and my crack is STILL gone (Scrabulous).

I just want to cry. If there was a "God" I would want Him/Her/It/____ to hug me right now. Tightly. Warmly.

I need... something.

**Edit** The Project Adventure thingy is actually the Alley Pond Park Adventure Course. Jill posted a bunch of pics that are less than flattering on MySpace. I've already ganked them and will put them up there as well for those of you who are on my MySpace to see sooner than later.

Okay.

So lately every little thing has been getting to me. All of the drama that ensued during the last moments of my transition from my last place of residence to the new one due to my filthy ex-roommate, the normal severe depression that kicks on sporadically and is ruthless, the general stress of unpacking, setting things up, lack of money and also figuring out what to go back to college for. I feel so much yet I feel simultaneously detached. It's taking a toll on my relationship and this is not okay. Especially so because we just made this big step together. However, after realizing that he has been feeling this way too, then texting me with something that made me feel again an hour or so later and talking to Jill, I think things may be okay in the long run. Simply put, I need therapy. Badly. J needs to come with. He has agreed in the past but I've never made the steps to get us there and really, it is up to me because honestly, my problems are worse and I'm the source of things fucking up at least 70% of the time. I hate percentages. Hah.

I just want to be "normal". Not happy per se. Just normal. Feeling sad would be blissful because sadness is so many levels higher than what I feel most of the time.

Blah blah blah.

Borderline Personality Disorder (unedited conglomerate).

Right now. My brain and heart twists into each other. Painful tangles of what I know is rational along with my instinct and heart . No cognition. Marijuana. Distract. Not really, no. Cold water. Drink it. Distraction. Promise ring, promise ring, promise ring. Look at it. LOOK at it! Not enough. Nothing is enough. Nothing is ever enough. I will keep my mouth shut. Something about aging helps me with this, but inside I am screaming. I will be abandoned. I am a horrible person. What is there about me that makes it worth it? Stop looking at the time. I already know what tonight was supposed to entail. That doesn't help me. Look at the phone again. No, nobody has called. Play more Scrabble online. I love him so damn much. Love is the only thing keeping me from not lashing out on him for no reason. Controlling this feels like I'm fighting against something that is killing me but giving up the fight. I do not like the feeling! I am not one to lose a fight! I have to surrender. Surrendering feels like suffocating. I feel like I'm not being MYSELF. Self control, self control, self control. Take another hit. Holding it as I type this sentence. Now I am coughing. Check my phone. Nothing. STOP IT. I am pathetic. Fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight. Clonazepam and Marijuana takes the edge off. I want to cut the tip of my tongue off. Literally. Not the expression but I picture doing this at least a couple times a month. Same for pulling my earrings through the piercings in my ears, or pulling the bar through my tongue piercing to the tip of my tongue. I have stopped cutting. It has been months. I am on day two without a cigarette and I am craving one so badly I could rip faces. If I think about having one for long enough, eventually this calms down. And now? Now I'm back to where I began. Why can I not be okay? What did you do to me, Nature? Check my phone again. YOU FUCKING MORON. Not for nothing my sound is off. I almost don't want the phone to ring. If I talk to him, I don't trust myself to not say something stupid and uncalled for. I am trying to control myself. Check my phone again. He called! I missed it and now my stomach is burning. I feel good that he called but now I feel guilty for not answering. However as I just mentioned, I don't want to put him through Hell for my own issues. The fucking TV. I look up and why oh why must the Burger King guy be on? I fucking loathe him. I also loathe the surinam toad. If you don't know what that is, look it up. Disgust. Patterns. Certain patterns make me anxious. Patterns made from HOLES. LOOK IT UP, I tell you. He called me again. Am I an asshole?

I just spoke to him.

Hello, Friday.

So once again here I am. I'm sitting at "work". Listening to 'Bbydhyonchord' by Aphex Twin via my Project Playlist thingy on my MySpace page. It's the first song that came on when I decided to listen to it (it's always on shuffle) and I must say, it's rather appropriate for right now. There is something about his music that melts into the creases of my brain and drips down all the way to my heart. I feel this way about a lot of music (since music is my Love) but his music is different since there are usually no words involved.

Music always intrigued me from every possible viewpoint. For instance, when you hear a song, it becomes it's own identity. I don't know if that makes sense. I guess what I feel is that you almost forget that people are putting together sounds to make one conglomerate section of space, time and sound. Sure you can see sound waves with proper instruments and your ear drum does technically vibrate, but really, listening, is an pseudo-intangible thing. I am insane. I am insane? I wish I could convey what I mean properly.

I think I may post some old and shitty and also some not-so-shitty poetry on here from time to time. I haven't written much lately. I haven't really done anything lately. I feel trapped where I live. Thank BOB that will be changing in a little over a week. Same with cigarettes. *waves goodbye to those on Sunday* I must sing. Some way. Somehow. By the way, does anyone know how to copyright photos and poetry on here? Not that anyone would want to steal my shit, but how do you make it official?

On my way to work this morning I used the heated seats in my car. A sure sign that Autumn is almost here. This pleases me. I love feeling the cool air from outside while my back and bottom is warm. I love wearing comfy clothes, breathing crisp air and the scent of dead and/or burning leaves. I took a different route today because of shitty Long Island traffic. The sunlight hit everything around me so beautifully, it made me want to die. I don't understand why I feel this way! Beautiful? Die? Why put the two together? Maybe I just ache for happiness so when I see something enjoyable it subconsciously reminds me of how crappy my life has been? Oh woe is me, woe is me. "It could always be worse", Jason says. "You could wake up with no arms." This is true. Very true.

My boss just turned on the air conditioning even though it's chilly. I told him I was sick and cold. "It's just a little stuffy in here..." he said. I love the consideration. I shouldn't complain. I've known the way he is for over three years now. It truly is chilly in here. Oh well. Slaves don't get much say, do they?

I think I'm going to call a doctor soon and try to get seen after work. I can't stand this anymore. Day three.

I'm used to LiveJournal...

but I will post something here anyhow to "start".

I feel empty at this moment. I have a lot to look forward to but I'm cursed with my severe depression, panic disorder and a few other things that I'm sure is the mental disorder du jour for anyone that has had their latte made the wrong way, broke their Blackberry or whatever.

I feel that all the torture I've been through since before I could speak up until now, in various forms has permanently shaped me for life. Many say this isn't so. Many say you can get help. Sure, I believe it - but how much help is there really? No matter how happy I am, there is always a lingering misery. I see misery in the most beautiful things. This isn't a choice. It was a choice when I was a teenager because I felt that was all I could relate to. Sometimes I still choose it because it's practically all I know, and what one knows equals comfort.

I have amazing pipes and have done nothing with this talent. The biggest reason being is because of the external torment I received as a child because I looked different than everyone else. Of course now, people claim I am beautiful and unique. I always liked when people use that word 'unique'. I know what you're really saying.

Well, I'm sitting at my dead end job and leaving soon. I believe I have a sinus/throat/ear infection. Yay for physical pain to add to the mental! Do I want some cheese with this *whine*? Anyone have some stringed instruments and some morose notes to follow? I do love music you know. I also love cheese.

I will end this entry with something I started telling myself years ago but of course haven't put into action (yet?):

Time to change my nature before nature robs my time.