Cure

“Go as far as you can see; when you get there, you’ll be able to see farther.”

— J.P. Morgan

death, dying, and unconscious sex;

I leaned over the boiling oil at work yesterday and suddenly I wanted to be submerged in it.

Sometimes people ask me why I get so unhappy.  I don’t know.  I just know that I do.  Even on some the days I take my medicine correctly.  Of course it’s not as bad as it normally would be, without the medicine but I still find myself wanting eternal sleep.  It’s a shame relieving yourself of this seemingly unpleasant life is a sin.  I would rather not go to hell.  So, for now, I’ll stay here.  It seems praying for death all these years hasn’t worked.  I don’t know why I still try.  The last time was less than a month ago.  Bravo fuck-up!

As a younger girl I used to think about how it seemed to me that a guy couldnt possibly have sex with an unconscious girl and live with himself.  Today I have been informed that they are just fine with it.  That bastard.  He told me he would never do that to me.  I swear it didn’t happen.  I would remember that.  Is he lying?  Or did I some how convince myself so well that night that it didn’t happen before sobering up that I have no memory of it?  It didn’t happen.  It couldn’t have. If so, that makes twice now.  Sixteen, and eighteen, who would’ve thought that would happen to me?  I am too strong for this shit.

BASTARD.

Please, what’s said on tumblr is never meant to be repeated.

rinse, repeat

Reading over last nights entry I am reminded of how familiar some if it sounds. I’ve always been known to write about a guy in my life. I’ve always been known to have a guy in my life. How ignorant I must sound to anyone who has paid any attention. Either way my feelings haven’t changed for the man currently in my life. He has taken the time to nurse me back to health, if you will. Telling me to lift my head up when I walk, that it’s okay to look people in the eyes, and reminding me that I do have opinions and it’s okay if they don’t run parallel to his or anyone else’s. He knows more about me than anyone, thus far. He tells me it wasn’t my fault, that no meant no and I don’t need to ask forgiveness for something that wasn’t my fault. He tells me when I’m wrong and when I’m right. He is my advocate and I plan to be his if I’m ever positioned to be. This is all too mushy, I’m just saying I know I sound naive, but I’m happy with him. See, I told you everything would be better in the morning.

connect

Tonight my rich friend Jenn was supposed to do her buy with Big Sam. She said she wasn’t feeling well and the bank wouldn’t let her withdrawal the remaining 700$she needed in order to have the full amount. Jessie notified Sam and he his so pissed. Jess said we might have lost a good connect over this. He is definitely a good person to have on your side but they come and go. I doubt I’ll feel the same way when it the time come that I need something. We rescheduled for tomorrow. That should make us about 175$. I hope she gets me this job. 11.50$ an hour is really good for me. Especially considering it’ll be a normal 9-5 job. I’m meeting Jenn when she gets off work at Pat’s and were going to hang out there until the boys get off work. She’s seven years older than me and calls me her “bestie”. I never quite liked that word. I wonder if she’s sure of my age. I suppose I seem mature to her somehow? I’m not though, just old souled. Dear God, please keep Jessie out of jail. Thank you. I love you, amen. I’ve been speeding about five nights a week at Jessie’s. I’ve really started to get comfortable with the long term idea. I just want to wait until I have a job. I don’t like having to ask Jess for money every time I want something, which is unfortunately often. I just got an idea, love you bye.

Turn out the lights. I’ll love you until you love yourself.

get out

I don’t like to shake. I don’t know why I always do.  Maybe it’s my heart or my asthma.  Either way I’d like to fix it.

It’s sad he got kicked out, but it makes me understand why I haven’t heard from him.  Mom was sweet offering our couch to him.  He’s got a lot going on inside.  He tries to hide it, but I see it.

Whyyy don’t you text me?

I didn’t expect you to reply, but it was nice talking to you.

God interviens right at the perfect time, which is good but not very much fun for little wild children.

I still don’t get you.  I know that I could get you talking if I really wanted to, but one, I don’t want to do things the way I used to; I like it happenstance, that way, it’s not my fault; and two, if I am too bold, it’s a temptation for him to revert to his insticntive boyish way, which is not what I need right now.  So, I’ll let him to the talking.  It makes things really slow but it’s me being somewhat careful.  So, we’ll see.

I need to stop looking at your pictures.  They can be infectious.

I want to, but I don’t feel like explaining myself, and they will see it.

Old friend, maybe I’ll give oneee more try.

I wonder if I’m strong enough to continue these friendships.  I don’t believe she’s changed.  I think she’d maybe think twice about doing it again but that wouldn’t be enough to stop her.  At first, going back was absolutely unthinkable.  The thought of it was sickening.  Then, I gave it a try.  It was still really hard but I bit my lip swallowed my pride and did it.  It was easier on everyone.  So for a little while, I just tried my very best to forget it ever happened.  That worked for about two months.  But it’s back again.  It gets worse everyday.  Sometimes such hatred boils beneath my skin that I never want to see her or anyone that reminds me of her ever again.  Which may not sound like a big deal but it is, to me at least.  He was wrong as well, but I have to remember he was single and half way convinced we wouldn’t get back together.  It was wrong for him to go after a friend of mine, but she threw herself at him.  But, how could they?  I laid sick in bed for months and they had a hay day faking love because I wasn’t around to give it.  After everything I've done for them, after everything we’ve been through.  I’m a pretty shady person, but I would never, ever, do that to anyone.  This has changed me.  It’s made me crazy.  My outlook on what’s “okay” and what’s not is twisted.  I feel that no matter what I do it will not add up to what they do.  Therefore, ruthless wrecklessness is as good as innocence to me.  I lie, because it them who took my truth and used it against me.  When I’m alone I convince myself that payback will make me feel better.  Maybe one day it will but so far that hasn’t worked.  And what’s wild is that they still have the nerve to speak to eachother in front of me.  God knows what they do when they have a few minutes alone, though I do my best to make sure that never happens.  After what they did to me, they are still comfortable speaking?  They should be ashamed.  They should feel awful for even glancing in eachother direction.  Anyway, my point is the way I live life now, I will never be able to escape them.  And I’m beginning to wonder how much longer I can stand this.  It’s madness.  It’s making me mad.  And the only solutions would drastically change everything I’ve ever known.  I hate you.

Maybe, everything is okay and I’m just thinking too much.  Trying to find a problem so that I can runaway again.  One of the songs he wrote a while ago said, “you runaway like you’ve got nothing to lose”.  I know that his last name makes me lucky to be associated with him in some places and he’s crazy talented but am I better than this?  Am I better than the way I’ve been treated by him and his family?  Part of me says I deserve less and wants no one.  The other part is convince I need something else.  Someone else.  He doesn’t hear me.  He doesn’t take me seriously.  He makes fun of the things I love, writing, my music, etc.  He thinks I owe him so much, and maybe I do but he’s such a pusher.  I’m not stupid.  But then theres how cute he is, how smart he is, just the way he is, I love it.  We’ve fought so hard for this, why throw it all away?  He swears to love me, and I swear the same but I just want to know what’s right, what’s best.

I wish I could move out without offending my parents.  I’m beginning to think I need it.

I’m beginning to have trouble breathing again.

stay, good girl.

I hate her so much.  Yet, she’s my “best friend”.  Best friends do not do what she did to me.  Best friends don’t treat eachother like I treat her.  But then again, nothing in my life ever goes as planned.

School tomorrow, then work.  I like to keep busy.  Idle time is the devil’s candyshop.  Or something like that.

Brandon, my boyfriend, has been acting different.  Well, come to think of it, maybe I’m the only one acting different.  Having people constantly remind me that him and I don’t go together makes it hard to remain stable in the relationship.  They say he’s controlling and doesn’t respect who I am.  What do they know, right?

I cut myself shaving earlier.  It felt great.

Let’s hope I can stay in my bed tonight.

*others

precipitation

It’s 1:41 am and it’s raining outside. No one will ever know what the sound of rain drops hitting the ground means to me, but I’ll try to explain. When I was on heroin, I drove a beat up Toyota with no drivers side window. Every morning I’d wake up hoping it was dry outside. Regardless of the weather, rain, sleet, or snow, I’d still have to drive downtown to cop. Otherwise, I’d be miserably dope sick, unable to get out of bed. Back then, I didn’t watch the news because regardless of what that weather man said, I still had to go out and drive in it. Today, however, is different. Today I can watch the news, see that a storm is coming and plan ahead. Today I have a choice as to whether or not I drive in the current conditions. Hearing the rain tap the asfalt over and over again reminds me that I have a choice. It reminds me that I don’t ever have to use again. It reminds me that I made bad choices, but I’m not a bad person. It reminds me to help overs in this journey of recovery. It reminds me I lived through many things I shouldn’t have. It reminds me that I’m a miracle. It reminds me that we do recover.

Surprise, Tumblr, I have braces! Hopefully, I will have them off in ten weeks (making it four years that I’ve had them) and I will actually smile in public without having to think twice. My point is, look at the purple flowers!

dry

I’ve been writing in my journal lately. I find it healthy, however, I find it necessary to also keep my tumblr updated. With that said, my life is one casualty after another. Perhaps that’s an exaggeration. Allow me to explain. I have yet to move back home, just stalling really. I know that when I get moved back in nothing will have changed. I’ll be put in the middle of my parents marriage. I’ll be required to do everything around the house because apparently, my sister is too sensitive to be upset at all. The lady is still in my life. My hands are dry and I want a cigarette.