Back to step one

I've realized this is a very angst-like blog, so here's some shit that happening.

I can't fucking stand it anymore. I'm breaking down too easily, I can't even stand up straight. My parents are stressing me out so much. Now with my sister being away from home for the next 4 months, I'm being far too over-protected. And it's only been one week so far...

Here are some posts I did in another blog of mine, (one that should be happy).

I want someone to beat the shit out of me. Not like, to be sexually pleasured and be dominated, and stuff like "who's my little bitch?" No, nothing like that. I want a black eye, I want to be battered and bruised. I want to be covered in scars. I guess I just miss being in pain.

The moment when you realize that your ex took your knives away from you in hopes that you would never cut again.

I can't help you if I can't help myself.
(A friend I met online is trying so hard to stop cutting herself. It's been one week so far. I am so fuckin' proud of her. I could never tell her about what I've done...)

And you know what? I feel like shit. You know what I did. Lower tummy to the upper thigh/leg. I only had a shaving razor, so it was just little nicks. Now I'm ate my Mum's, so I can use the razor I stole from my Biology class in grade 11. I want to cut my arms so badly, but if my parents saw, they'd send to the psych ward or something like that. And I do not want that. As I said before, my ex took my knives. He didn't want me to do anything stupid like that. Well, fuck you.

Just, fuck.

I feel so nauseous.

Also, I just switched to my Mum's house, and I had a freak-out. Her car was in the shop and she had been waiting for me so we could walk to the store to go grocery shopping. I silently said 'no' to her, and well, I pissed her off. My Mum doesn't get angry I'd suppose, she just gets mildly saddened. My sister has lived with her for almost two years now, so she's used to someone being with her all the time. And now she's stuck with just me every other week.

I was so happy just a few hours ago, but I can't stop crying. And I have no one to talk to. There's only one person I can think of. I feel terrible for putting all of my weight on her, but she knows how to make me smile. But she babysits pretty much every day, and I can barely breath right now. And I feel like shit.
___

Helplessly hoping
Her harlequin hovers nearby
Awaiting a word
Gasping at glimpses
Of gentle true spirit
He runs, wishing he could fly
Only to trip at the sound of good-bye

Tears in Heaven

Would you know my name

If I saw you in heaven?

Would it be the same

If I saw you in heaven?

 

I must be strong

And carry on,

'Cause I know I don't belong

Here in heaven.

 

Would you hold my hand

If I saw you in heaven?

Would you help me stand

If I saw you in heaven?

 

I'll find my way

Through night and day,

'Cause I know I just can't stay

Here in heaven.

 

Time can bring you down,

Time can bend your knees.

Time can break your heart,

Have you begging please, begging please.

 

Beyond the door,

There's peace I'm sure,

And I know there'll be no more

Tears in heaven.

 

Would you know my name

If I saw you in heaven?

Would it be the same

If I saw you in heaven?

 

I must be strong

And carry on,

'Cause I know I don't belong

Here in heaven.

 

'Cause I know I don't belong

Here in heaven.

dark

I don't like the night. There is nothing beautiful about it any more. It's a memory and a fear. He's a monster. I want to hide. I can't escape. I'm lost and I can't go back. I'm in my own little Hell. My Hell is to walk outside at night, and go back to a dark empty room without windows, where I can think.

There is a part I can't tell. About the dark I know well.

then I was young and unafraid

  After a gong show of a first day of school, I believe I've been well. I've developed a habit of picking at the skin on my fingers, though. People are quite unimpressed. Well, whatever. It's audition time for Musical Theater, and that means I've been going through book after book finding perfect audition songs. But at a meeting today, they said it could just be any song (I told my teacher I will now sing him death metal for my audition). I went to Long&McQuade today and purchased The Singer's Musical Theatre Anthology (Mezzo-Sproano/Belter), to work on songs that fit my voice - either that, or I'd sing too high a song, or a Man song. It had the song I wanted, and other songs that I actually knew, so that was good.

  I was working on other choral stuff when I decided to try some Les Misérables. I've read the book so many times, even though he said it's a dry read and would never read it. Well, I sight read the song I've Dreamed a Dream (I'd only heard it once), and, the lyrics sort of got to me. It was pretty. I actually understood what she was saying (besides that fact that I already knew because of the book). I went on the computer to hear the Original Broadway version. All I can say is - I read the lyrics, I listened to her voice -I cried. It didn't go over well for me. Too much of the past...

"...He slept a summer by my side
He filled my dreams with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he'd come to me
That we would live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from the hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."

if only I'd retain this

Make peace with the past but retain it in sight, a reminder of where you have been. 

Paintings of yesterday do ease the way to choices with peace therein.

aaangst

I'm an angsty teenager.

I don't know right from wrong.

I'm over-sad, or over-happy; over-emotional.

Oh-- yeah, this isn't some sort of poetry.

But, doesn't it look more poetic when I write once sentence per line?

Yes.

Or, no.

I lie, far much more than I should.

I've found simple way of leaving my past.

One, leaving my school.

That worked.

But this time, I'm stuck.

I could leave again, but then I have to explain why.

Why?

Why is one thing literally killing me?

I want to act it all out, the rest of my life.

I'll mock.

I'll just fake it.

waiting

I had two attacks today. Saw somebody at the mall. A person I'd really not rather see for the rest of my life. Well, there's panic attack #1. I sat on a chair and trembled for 20 minutes. I just turned my music louder. Hoping the Ska would drown out all the other thoughts. Continued walking around the mall. A distressed friend texts me. We talk. She tells me something, something that - that is THE biggest trigger. (But again, I won't say, for my sanity). Panic attack #2. I told her if she chose to do... that... again. Well;

"I'm not going to talk to you. You're out of my life. I'm sorry, but that's how it is, it's how I've been affected. I need to save myself"

I gave her the speech that... well, it's what he said to me.

I've been trying to be as non-specific as possible for the last few months. I'm not sure she really got the big picture. I think nobody does. They just know that that is a trigger somehow. I was walking home, in tears. Switched to Gimme Gimme (from Thoroughly Modern Millie) on loop (It helped me a while back. I just want what Millie wants.). I ignored the first text for five minutes, then replied "Sorry". We talked after, via text still. She promised me not to ever again. I hate promises. 

I don't trust anyone. I don't trust myself. I don't believe in promises; they will always break. Love? Not a chance. Life? I'll shrug it off. I'm a fucking negative person.

... I've realized that when I'm talking about moments of remembering, I start thinking about them again, thus putting my in a bad state again.

School, please start sooner. I can't even wait these next two days. I need you now. I need to concentrate on one thing. I don't want to be this. But I do. I'd like to think about the past, thus forcing myself to be sad. I don't want to see, or hear something to put me there. Just... Jesus fuck. I'd prefer being happy. I want to erase so much of my past. The past doesn't build the future. Not a stronger one. It weakens mine. And I'll come out of this stronger? I don't think so. I'll be out of your way before you know it...

I'm just waiting for my body to catch up...