Ffffuuu... (or, you can't always get what you want)

  I wish there were 5 blocks a semester. My life would be so much better. Also if JB and CC weren't in block 3. I WANT MY ENGLISH LITERATURE, DAMMIT. There are so many courses I want to take. Sometimes I regret becoming a band kid. I totally would've preferred taking every possible Theater course. Yeah, that's right, I have no room to T.A. Drama 10. I sent my teacher an e-mail apologizing, and saying how freaking pissed I was that I couldn't do that. I really am. 

  Currently, 4 music courses (Jazz Band, Concert Choir, Vocal Jazz  x2 -- and those are only the ones that are IN the timetable), 2 theater courses, which leaves me room for 2 academics. And, well, I need two more to get into UVic. I really want to take more than two academics though! My Dad and I were talking and I've decided that I'm going straight into University after I graduate. And there, I plan on taking all the courses I never took here.

  Performing Arts. I'm not going into 'Music'. I'm going into everything, because I can't just do music all my life. I want acting. I want screenplay writing. I want to do all of that. The plan is to apply for as many scholarships as possible this year, and work my ass off.

  I really wish I was still in dance. I could go so far. I had talent. Well, I guess I still do. Solos, man, I did solos. I was a good dancer. It better pay off in Musical Theater.

  Also, I'm still depressed. I felt great when I got back to school to help out for the past two days - it kept my mind on track and not wandering off and giving me a panic attack. But I'm still afraid. My teacher knows how I'm feeling, so that's good. Just, I'm annoyed. And shaky. And I'm not eating again. We had to buy a freaking whole new wardrobe because nothing I own fits. I look like a potato. (LOLOL, keeping it at that. Looking like a potato brings back hilarious memories)

now a dose of happiness

I've never mentioned this on THIS blog before, but I am writing a musical with a friend of mine. We've had the idea in our heads since grade 9; a few song titles, the two main characters, bot NO plot. About a year ago, we created some more characters and their outlines, and wrote a song, a kind thought about it once in a while. Well, last night, we each printed off those sheets, and WROTE ACTUAL PLOT!

WE WROTE PLOT!

AND OUTLINE FOR EACH CHARACTER!

AND WE MADE MORE CHARACTERS!

AND WE HAVE SONGS!

LOTS OF SONGS!

PRIME currently has 36 characters, 20 songs, and some sort of plot. Woot!

(okay, 36 people with names. They are not all main-charcters of sub-characters, but they-- wait-- no, only about 7 characters don't have a significance/have a scene, they're just part of a group and have a one-liner) 

summer

I'll always be on again and off again for the rest of my life, though it will settle much closer, soon. New dosage of medication. It's supposed to work in 4-8 weeks. It's been 3, and I feel like absolute shit. I don't want to go back to work. I want school to start, dammit! Good news; I've been outside! For more than an hour a day. So, that's good, I guess. I've been seeing more people... but I still feel like crap.  

sadface

I've been listening to A LOT of a cappella music lately. So, I'm attempting at write some a cappella music myself (Starting with a version of I Will Survive. Don't ask why, there's no reason), but since I have a version of Sibelius that my friend burned for me - and there's no way I can register it - that means I can't save it, and I can only write up to three pages of music.

But it sounds rad, that's for sure. I kind of want to do one (that I found, because I would never be able to write something as amazing as it is) as a combo for school... but no one would probably want to...

sadface again

hope makes the future look brighter

I've hoped and prayed for far too long, it's felt like. It has been my only wish for change - most preferrably in me. I've wanted out of this world before. I've created a lifetime of regrets. But I'm never going to stop trying. Because there is hope. And it has saved me.

In the past three years, for months at a time, my world would be a dark place. It fully sunk in after my last three grandparents - people I absolutely adored and looked up to - passed away in a five-month period. It's something that no one can fully comprehend, unless they've been actually depressed (and not just "my dog died, and I'm all depressed about it"). I would not be the person that every loved, and thought was the "funniest person alive." I would be quite. Everything would only make me feel worse. I'd be in my own little haunted world.

My appetite would either exist, or not. But it would mostly be constantly gorging down fatty foods, which in the end, made me feel even worse about myself. I gained so much weight that, well, people would make fun of me for being "fat." And that's another distress and pain to live through during middle school and high school years. I'd fake a smile, and I'd wear black to hide the damage. I had changed myself to fit my state, but I hide myself from the old me. But I missed her, and wanted her back somehow.

I found cutting as a way out; a haven. It wasn't an obsession, but it's something that made me happy, as strange as it sounds. A total stress-reliever. Again, no one understands the feeling unless one has actually done it; multiple times. But when my parents found out, I was placed onto medicine. Prozac was the name. I claim they are placebos; all medicine is. And I never think - I know that it won't work.

Nothing made me happy, and I continued wearing long sleeves. My parents would check my arms daily, and check how I was in my room. Every ten minutes. That triggered some anger issues that I've had for a long time now. I stopped the cutting for a while, knowing how much of a mess I'd already gotten in from doiug so. Well of course I'd do it again, but for now I'd just miss it. For now, I'd think about how uselesss I was. Daily, I'd be tormented by classmates - whom had never had a fondness for me in the first place - saying "Why don't just just go cut yourself?!" It became a joke to them. If I got annoyed by something, that's what they'd say. A lot of people said it. It all came down to when day I contemplated suicide. But I made the choice to tell my sister first. I was rushed to the doctor and perscribed a new medication; a new placebo to believe in. My doctor got thoroughly annoyed when I told her that. But then, I really didn't care what people thought; I had no confidence.
The worst part is that my classmates were never spoken to by the higher authorities, or suspended, or anything. They almost killed me. Well, they killed a part of me. And I went through this for two years. I finally decided to switchs schools; I wanted a fresh start on life and I was so happy to leave that school. If I were there any longer, I'd be dead. They made a bet to see how long I'd survive at my new school.

People are different everywhere, and that is one aspect in life that I appreciate. I've gone through one year at my new school and I'm alive. And it's been an amazing exoperience. I have faith in myself, and all the friends I left behind are very happy for me. They ask how I'm feeling and if I've done any more damage. And my new friends all know my backstory and believe in me. When they saw the scars, they didn't laugh. It was a whole new world. But when it's been a long hot streak, it must one day fall down to a cold one.

It came back to haunt me again, three weeks ago. I haven't eaten or slept. I'm too afraid to sleep. Lately, they've been nightmares. They seem so real. I wake up in near-tears having a horrible panic attack for hours at a time. Anything is a trigger. I'm paranoid. Anything can turn into a meltdown. And I've made stupid choices, that I'm not proud of at all.

It's chronic depression. It's genetic. And it'll never be changed. But I can fight it. Every one has told me to hope for the best. I'm not the religious type, but my friend has told me to pray. And I have. I have my friends and family to watch over me. It's going to take time. But watch me, I'll be back. They know I'm going to stay alive. I know I'm going to. I'm not sure about what I want to do for the rest of my life yet, but it's better than not having one at all. But getting back to the old me; I'm still not there yet.

finally finished

I finished English 12 today. Well, I finished the class last Thursday, I had the exam today. Last time I took it, I felt so under pressure, so I kept blanking out and put too much time into the first two written parts, instead of the original composition. This time, I was so proud of myself. I did the first two sections in under an hour each. So I had more than enough time to concentrate an making a well-thought composition.

The topic was something like (if I remember correctly)

Hope makes the future look brighter.

Or something like that.

It felt like a venting spree. And it was amazing. After I got out, I couldn't stop smiling. It's like a whole weight just got lifted off of me.

"ideas"

Today in English we were going over the aspects that make a good piece of writing. The first one was to be able to come up with an array of ideas (specifically on your topic, not something completely random). He told us to start writing down moments from our past. He gave us about 4 minutes. I went straight back to elementary school, and that was at least 7 years ago. Those were easily the best days. Those simple memories, I will never forget.

I've realized my mind is exactly like a  Kindergartener's - one thing after an other, fast and bubbly "and, and and, and and." So in my four minutes, I came up with this. (If I had more time, it would've be much longer). I also think that I am the best at making grasping opening lines, as you will notice.

There was the day

 

When Amanda barfed on the way 

to the garbage can

and we had to sit

in the hall for the rest of the day.

And the next day

the classroom smelt like vinegar,

and I hate vinegar.

And I gave Cody

a mushy Valentine’s Day card,

and he told the class

and they laughed at me.

And Tyler peed his pants,

and we laughed at him.

And Troy  brought his baby brother

in for show and tell, 

and he also brought his Transformers 

and we we'd sing the theme song.

And once he said his Mom 

let him drink wine the night before.

We were all jealous.

And I think Ms. Coultas wanted

some because she talked

to Troy’s Mom after class.

And the mean grade sevens

said there was a tiger behind me,

but they lied so I didn’t believe them

when they told me to go get a duty

because one of them hurt themselves.

And Clarissa climbed too high

on the tree 

during Rocket Ship,

and I tried saving her.

And I got stuck too.

And Tyler’s Mom was the lunch duty

and she’d never let us leave the class

until we finished our lunch.

And I never liked ham and cheese sandwiches. 

So we'd pretend she was an evil witch 

and sneak past her.

And Jake Spring and I had the same birthday,

except it was in the summer,

so don’t know why his last name is Spring. 

And he’s a year older than me,

but he’s in my grade because

he got to do Kindergarten twice.

I want to do Kindergarten twice.

Is it depressing that I'm really proud of this, while I should be writing at a grade 12 level?

documents

So it's all like "somebody said something, now I feel like crap." Well, sorta.

I'm getting a bit better. Much better than how I was earlier today. I've been going through old documents and such on my computer, and I swear to god, I was the funniest kid ever in grade 8. Yay for not having any friends! But then I also found the darkest poetry I've ever read in my life - it was actually really hard to read. it hurt. I was also depressing as hell. This stuff was written in grade 10 though, and that year was a living hell, so I guess it's acceptable. The two things that hit me the most were (warning, emotional poetry time):

With a sigh I slipped my hand in my pocket to feel the cool metal blade. My fingers tingled to the touch and I knew it was my time. I quietly sneaked out of the house, and walked in the blackness, into the forest. There I sat, alone. Isolated. Nothing but the stars were looking down on me. I could do what I wanted to in peace. I was contemplating, but then I decided what I had to do.

 And.

I touched the darkness and could hear wind crying through my ears calling for me, waiting for me to take one more step out of the light. The shine is safer than the shimmer and I don’t want to slip and fall down into the depths. They will take me away and I will be free. I would be in a fresh asylum and the uproar of the stillness will never let me go of my grasp.

Because, when I read them. I remember everything that had happened. Exactly how I felt that past year. My writing has completely improved in the past year. Though, My English 10 teacher like me poetry. I've gone more into the humor writing now.

I just noticed many spelling mistakes in both of those...

Besides sadness, I found a song I wrote for my friend, which was again, written over a year ago. It was a good-bye, for I was switching schools, and she was moving (but still going to my old school). But now, with thanks to learning theory at my new school, I am actually building chords and harmony to this song, that I still remember the tune to.

Deep, philosophical moment.

Soon enough, it will all be better. If I stop hoping for the worst, maybe I'll be happy.

As Henry Ford said, "If you think you can do something, you can. If you think you can't, you're right again."

re-construction

It's weird how everything can change, so fast. But I don't want to just, erase the past. I can't forget it. The past is what builds the future.

So, now I'm back to my old state. I've been doing stupid things, and I'm missing certain things. You wouldn't want to see me now. It's gonna be a jeans summer. I haven't really been eating... that was what really started it all... that was what made me this- this-

(But we've finally found out my medical condition; I'm anemic. Yep, every one of my conditions leads to that major one. So I need a crapload of iron in my body now. And anyway, I've barely eaten in the past month, and I'm currently on a diet of 1 bottle of Boost, 1 bottle of Ensure, 1/2 a bottle of Gatorade, and about 2 cups of bran flakes, a day. I need nutrients. And well, I just feel like crap. I'm a complete mess right now, but I'm on the road to health. Soon enough I won't be - as weighted as I was in the past (to put it bluntly, not as fat - which my Mom (of all people) is super happy about). I'm going to be weak though.)

I don't want to think all deep and philosophical because it just brings me to a place where I don't want to be. Not right now. I remember being happy, as depressing as that sounds, for I am NOT right now. A simple item can break me down into tears. I'm afraid to go outside, because of how different things affect me now. It's going to be like this for a while, I can promise you that. I'm going to have to build a new immune system, again. A stronger one, because something was able to break my last one.

Time to construct some new blueprints.

And I think it's time for some re-construction on this page as well. I'm going to change the name and such. I'm not singing the blues- I just live it.