I've neglected this pretty badly.
I thought I was doing okay, but I always seem to cycle back into this funk. Maybe it's the month of April. I can't stand this month. Three years ago I lost my heart and my sister and my best friend, and I just can't seem to pick up the pieces. I don't know what it's like to have a best friend anymore; not like that. I feel as if I cannot open up to anyone at all. I've tried so so hard to, especially with scruffy but I can't seem to. I want to, so badly. There are no words to describe how badly I want this.
I'm scared to, I guess. There's a stigma attached with depression, medication, cutting, etcetera.
I can accept these facts. I do take medication for some hormonal imbalances in my brain. They help, some days.
My desire to leave is no where near as strong as it used to be when I allowed that darkness to feed upon me. I can hear her calling me though, she entices me; wraps my head in black cloud and sorrow and reminds me of how easy it is to be so incredibly selfish.
The scars are slowly fading. It's been a year since I had started again, and probably about six months since I have done anything. It's strange to think how fast I spiralled down last summer. When I moved out to Vancouver, basically.
This city is built for sorrow. Scenery that makes you cry because it's so breathtaking. Being able to float in the water feeling the ocean move me, the stars sing to me and the city lights lull me to sleep. It's a good city to be alone in, yet not.
I've been trying to go out, open up and meet new people. School helps, but I'm still stuck in a facade. The cooking industry demands it anyway. The need to pull up your pants, suck it up and move on. I can do that, don't get me wrong. I just happen to have mental breakdowns along the way...
So I go to shows. Bass out, flail, feel the music. It seems to be the only thing that I feel passionate about lately. I think I love it because it speaks to me, resonates in my soul. Being hearing impaired makes listening to other music so much harder, but with bass, dnb, anything like that it is just drums drums drums and beats and pure energy melded into synchronicity on the floor for everyone to share. I don't have to listen so hard, I can just lose myself in it.
I'm bad for that though. Losing myself. I've done it with drugs, alcohol, sex. This is just a healthier form that I just happen to get really good exercise from, and I do get to meet the most radical people.
It is so strange, that I feel so focused on trying to connect with people, but when that moment comes I can't seem to bring myself to do it. That old fear is still etched in somewhere. The time you invest in people, pouring your heart out and loving them wholly and completely. Promises made only to be broken. I've lost so many people that I seem to lose myself a little more.
Who is ami?
We're not sure.
We are sure that she's scared, a little lost, alone amongst the lonely.
She's got love to give, if you can accept her for all her shortcomings.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
October 08, 2010
to begin with, the average, healthy, well-adjusted adult gets up at seven-thirty in the morning feeling just plain terrible.
- jean kerr
x
who gets up at seven-thirty?
i smoked too much today. i notice at least half a pack gone when things are shitty. things need to stop being shite so i can spend less on smokes. adam told me today he tried to kill himself. i figure i'm the one to trigger it because let's face it, i've been horrible. but i'm pissed. i promise not to cut anymore, and what does he do? hypocritical. now it just makes me think i'll struggle with my shit all the rest of my life. most likely. more water in my dreams. not as turbulent as usual. but weird symbols just the same. things of inner emotion and strength keep popping up. not as much turmoil as there used to be, but clear blues instead. i'm always having to be strong though. sometimes it sucks. maybe. i'm balancing out a bit. who knows. i'm just tired of having all my friends give up when i make the effort to stay.
- jean kerr
x
who gets up at seven-thirty?
i smoked too much today. i notice at least half a pack gone when things are shitty. things need to stop being shite so i can spend less on smokes. adam told me today he tried to kill himself. i figure i'm the one to trigger it because let's face it, i've been horrible. but i'm pissed. i promise not to cut anymore, and what does he do? hypocritical. now it just makes me think i'll struggle with my shit all the rest of my life. most likely. more water in my dreams. not as turbulent as usual. but weird symbols just the same. things of inner emotion and strength keep popping up. not as much turmoil as there used to be, but clear blues instead. i'm always having to be strong though. sometimes it sucks. maybe. i'm balancing out a bit. who knows. i'm just tired of having all my friends give up when i make the effort to stay.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
september 11, 2010
i'm for anything that gets you through the night, be it prayer, tranquilizers, or a bottle of jack daniel's.
-frank sinatra
x
i could use a combination of all three at the moment. swap out the jd though, i'm not a huge fan of his. i noticed that when i smoke a lot, my fingers smell like burnt, stale popcorn. mmmm nicotine. i'm so tired yet so awake. i keep wondering how i've managed to land myself amongst the thickets of grief and still remain there for so long. losing raena, dylan, dave, jordy, etc etc etc. someone new every other day. i can't seem to escape this shit. i don't seek to escape death, just the grief that seems to be continually at its bosom. i welcome my own death much too often for other peoples' liking, if they were to know, that is. sometimes i wish i were religious. it'd give me something to believe in, but i'm far too critical and lazy for such things. self destruction is my therapy, repression even. sometimes i want to be happy, but i think that'd make me more boring than usual. mostly i just want a cuddle and a decent hug. is that too much to ask for?
-frank sinatra
x
i could use a combination of all three at the moment. swap out the jd though, i'm not a huge fan of his. i noticed that when i smoke a lot, my fingers smell like burnt, stale popcorn. mmmm nicotine. i'm so tired yet so awake. i keep wondering how i've managed to land myself amongst the thickets of grief and still remain there for so long. losing raena, dylan, dave, jordy, etc etc etc. someone new every other day. i can't seem to escape this shit. i don't seek to escape death, just the grief that seems to be continually at its bosom. i welcome my own death much too often for other peoples' liking, if they were to know, that is. sometimes i wish i were religious. it'd give me something to believe in, but i'm far too critical and lazy for such things. self destruction is my therapy, repression even. sometimes i want to be happy, but i think that'd make me more boring than usual. mostly i just want a cuddle and a decent hug. is that too much to ask for?
Sunday, September 5, 2010
september 2, 2010
the last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.
- leonard cohen
x
superiority? not in the least. except perhaps in my lack of sanity. face hurts like a motherfucker. i still am swollen beyond comprehension and it is disgusting. so goddamn restless, laying on the couch for days. i can't organize my thoughts, i can't hold my concentration. i feel more addled than usual. not sure if it is just the effects from surgery and all these pills i'm taking, but it's irksome. i also don't really care and i like being apathetic. walking oxymoron. key word: moron. hypocrisy. adam thinks i'm his girlfriend, and that bothers me to no end. christien is wasting himself away. somedays i care, most days i don't. i probably should. can't muster energy or concentration to play june, or read, or write, or draw. most of the time i don't care, but doubled with the inability, it's just asldkfuoaiduljksdofusdkjf.
i suppose i'm not as apathetic as i like to think. just insane in a rather nonchalant manner. fuck, i want a smoke so bad.
- leonard cohen
x
superiority? not in the least. except perhaps in my lack of sanity. face hurts like a motherfucker. i still am swollen beyond comprehension and it is disgusting. so goddamn restless, laying on the couch for days. i can't organize my thoughts, i can't hold my concentration. i feel more addled than usual. not sure if it is just the effects from surgery and all these pills i'm taking, but it's irksome. i also don't really care and i like being apathetic. walking oxymoron. key word: moron. hypocrisy. adam thinks i'm his girlfriend, and that bothers me to no end. christien is wasting himself away. somedays i care, most days i don't. i probably should. can't muster energy or concentration to play june, or read, or write, or draw. most of the time i don't care, but doubled with the inability, it's just asldkfuoaiduljksdofusdkjf.
i suppose i'm not as apathetic as i like to think. just insane in a rather nonchalant manner. fuck, i want a smoke so bad.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
i cant sleep: august 25, 2010
quote:
i realize that from the cradle up i have been like the rest of the race- never quite sane in the night.
mark twain
x
i am never sane at night, not much during the light either come to think of it. off-kilter in general. i keep working on this song of mine. i try to sleep and then new chords and piano melodies pop into my head. it's lovely, but i'm trying to sleep, goddamnit. so i race half-starkers to the computer to flesh it out before i forget it. which reminds me, i think there's melodies i've sung to my phone to remember. twelve new gashes in my legs. so fucking stupid. i'm throwing that blade out when i get back to alberta. i missed vancouver, but i think there's a melancholy with it, i can't figure it out. i think about old dreams and all the water in them. i think about how ophelia pictures are always beautiful, yet in actuality, drowning victims are bloated and water-logged and quite possibly green. i'll take my darling ophelia. asphyxiation frightens me, yet inhaling water peacefully sounds well, i'm not sure. fucking tom. fucking ivan. fucking mum. fucking fucking fuck. stop keeping me awake. i'm anxious enough. the chakra woman's messed with my inner chi or some shit again, i think. the point of it is to achieve neutrality, and since i told her the other day that i'm still pretty fucked, i noticed today that i've literally felt nothing. she must be envisioning my spinal chord pretty fucking hard.
i realize that from the cradle up i have been like the rest of the race- never quite sane in the night.
mark twain
x
i am never sane at night, not much during the light either come to think of it. off-kilter in general. i keep working on this song of mine. i try to sleep and then new chords and piano melodies pop into my head. it's lovely, but i'm trying to sleep, goddamnit. so i race half-starkers to the computer to flesh it out before i forget it. which reminds me, i think there's melodies i've sung to my phone to remember. twelve new gashes in my legs. so fucking stupid. i'm throwing that blade out when i get back to alberta. i missed vancouver, but i think there's a melancholy with it, i can't figure it out. i think about old dreams and all the water in them. i think about how ophelia pictures are always beautiful, yet in actuality, drowning victims are bloated and water-logged and quite possibly green. i'll take my darling ophelia. asphyxiation frightens me, yet inhaling water peacefully sounds well, i'm not sure. fucking tom. fucking ivan. fucking mum. fucking fucking fuck. stop keeping me awake. i'm anxious enough. the chakra woman's messed with my inner chi or some shit again, i think. the point of it is to achieve neutrality, and since i told her the other day that i'm still pretty fucked, i noticed today that i've literally felt nothing. she must be envisioning my spinal chord pretty fucking hard.
i cant sleep: august 16, 2010
quote:
life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep.
fran lebowitz
x
thinking about how irritating the new cut on my leg is, how dumb i've been today, so many moodswings, my song lyrics -sofuckingwastedthoughticouldchasethispipedreamsareforbeautyqueensandchasingeverlastingprettyliesinyoureyes-
how much i wish i could have a beer, or ten, infidelity, i forgot what the word sycophant means, i should treat adam better, why am i so anxious to talk to someone i've never talked to before? i think dr. hay will probably put me on anxiety meds after these new panic attacks, fuck, i wish someone would just give me weed, that's all i want, no i want money too, fuck, i miss vancouver, i want to go swim in the ocean, i hate how fucked up i am, i'm tired of being so fucking tired, what am i going to do with spencer? i wish i had a cuddle buddy. fuck.
life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep.
fran lebowitz
x
thinking about how irritating the new cut on my leg is, how dumb i've been today, so many moodswings, my song lyrics -sofuckingwastedthoughticouldchasethispipedreamsareforbeautyqueensandchasingeverlastingprettyliesinyoureyes-
how much i wish i could have a beer, or ten, infidelity, i forgot what the word sycophant means, i should treat adam better, why am i so anxious to talk to someone i've never talked to before? i think dr. hay will probably put me on anxiety meds after these new panic attacks, fuck, i wish someone would just give me weed, that's all i want, no i want money too, fuck, i miss vancouver, i want to go swim in the ocean, i hate how fucked up i am, i'm tired of being so fucking tired, what am i going to do with spencer? i wish i had a cuddle buddy. fuck.
hi, how are you?
i've only already got a dozen other blogs, but as due to tom's suggestion, one related to the things that i physically write in my journals might be interesting. fuck it.
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