When nothing goes right, there is no reason for hope.

It seems like no matter what I do, something just has to go terribly wrong. That sounds like something a pessimist would say, but honestly, I’m not joking. Every time I do anything “out of the ordinary” everything goes awry. Hell, when I do normal things my world gets spun around, making me dizzy and hopless.

I’m having a lot of personal problems, a lot of self esteem problems. I can’t seem to get the control I need on my life. Occasionally I’ll have second thoughts on my self-imposed isolation, which hits me with exceptionally low days. But I know there’s no helping it; there’s no one I can trust.

My Godparents want to pay for my next quarter at college, which is putting me under a lot of stress. I already have to pay my parents back, now I’m going to have to pay them too. They all keep saying that I don’t have to pay them back, but I feel like it’s something I have to do. I can’t keep relying on people like this, it’s killing me. I’m trapped in this place, and I’m beginning to wonder if this is where I’ll die.

I have to go see my advisor in a few hours, which I’m not looking forward to at all. I’m going to ask her a bit about getting only an associate’s degree instead of the bachelor’s. I’m going to try and find the number for counciling as well, and maybe schedule an appointment, because I’m honestly on my last limb here and I need to hear another perspective. I need someone to sit in front of me for a half an hour and pretend like they give a fuck. It’ll make me feel a bit better, even if I can’t really tell them anything that’s going to make me “better”.    

On edge.

You know when you have one of those days where you just want to be left alone, yet there seems to be so many different things that you have to do? It’s one of those days today. I guess everyday is like that, but today is just particularly bad. I just want to crawl into my little hermit shell and disappear.

I can barely handle being in this house anymore; it’s more a burden sometimes than school is. Someone is always here. I wish desperately sometimes that I was done with my degree, had a job, and was paying a house payment. I just want to be on my own so badly.

 At this point I plan my entire schedule around the night, when generally everyone is asleep. Unfortunately my mom often has insomnia, and stays up until the early hours of morning. Needless to say, I never get time to myself. I’m on edge when anyone’s awake, I feel…strained. I’m constantly waiting for someone to come into my room and bother me about whatever. It sounds stupid I realize, but for some reason an empty house is a comfort to me. Even locking the door is no escape, as then my mom just keeps knocking louder and louder until I go and answer it.

I’m going a bit mad. I daydream more than I spend time living…I sleep more hours than I’m awake. I don’t know how to stop the cycle, and really, I’m beginning to think that there may be no stopping it. It will progress and progress until finally I’ll refuse to take anymore of it and I’ll have to find a way out, whether it be moving out or some other, darker alternative.    

My chosen torture makes me stronger

I was listening to a song and I thought those lyrics were interesting and…fitting, really. It’s bittersweet knowing that you are the cause of your own problems, and that somehow you take pride in it…pride in survival. That’s the entire reason I never seek help, as my problems are the one thing in my pathetic, useless life that I haven’t backed down to. I haven’t given in…I haven’t, not yet. That has to be some sort of accomplishment I think. That’s always been my philosophy: life is what you make it. If I can’t deal with the way I am, then I obviously don’t deserve to live.

Everything that plagues me has been allowed to fester…I go easy on myself compared to what I deserve. That’s why I’m as bad as I am; I’ve allowed myself to become a useless pile of shit because I was too scared to face anything. I was scared to be alone. I always said I was mediocre, nothing important, when the truth was is that I’ve always been lower than even that standard…. I have no drive, I live with my parents, I live off of them, when I’m 18 and should be on my own struggling to pay rent like everybody else. My parents sacrifice everything for me and I’m this ungrateful little bitch that never deserved any of it. And what’s worse is that if I shoot myself it doesn’t solve anything, it just makes me all the more of a disappointment, all the more unworthy of what I’ve been given.

I act arrogant in public when I’m not. I pretend to know what I’m doing when in reality I don’t have any idea. I’m nice to people when they are so worthless I shouldn’t even say hello to them. I just do it for fun. I catch myself playing games with people, giving them hints of what I’m thinking just to get a reaction. Just to get that disgusted look to cross their face and make that snake in my gut coil up pleasurably. I walk around smiling pretending that I care about everything when I care about nothing at all.

The golden age of pseudo arrogance
It’s all about how you present yourself
It’s all about feigning everything you can’t feel
Smiling when you don’t care
The more you hurt, the more you’re worth
Life ends when you just can’t take it anymore

Perhaps it has made me stronger. It’s always been my depression and my misanthropy that have dragged me through life when it has gotten difficult. It pulled me to my feet, kept me from standing still. And yeah, maybe it is my chosen torture because I’ve allowed it to become this, willingly. I could have tried harder. I could have forced myself to become some ridiculous social butterfly, but I knew that I could never accept that, would not accept that. Really, I chose this. Maybe I couldn’t stop it anyway, maybe in the end this is what I was supposed to be. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.

Edit: The little bit in the middle there is just some shitty poetry of mine, and is not part of the song I spoke of earlier…just so you know.

Confession..at least partially.

Yesterday my dad left for business and my mom woke me up early to see if I wanted to go out shopping. It started out alright, as I did want to get out for awhile (I had asked her the day before if we could go somewhere), but when I finished my shower and got dressed things took…an unexpected turn. It was a stupid argument, first off. And really, it wasn’t my fault—I did nothing wrong. She yelled at me because I was wearing a pair of boots she doesn’t like. She told me something to the effect of, “I won’t be seen in public with you”. This coming from the person who needs help getting dressed, wears a neckbrace a lot of the time, and has me braid her hair regularly. The person I help my dad take care of. 

I don’t understand her sometimes. Well…that’s not exactly true, how about, sometimes I think she’s stupid. I absolutely understand her. Yeah, not a kind thing to say about one’s mother, but it’s true. She gets ideas in her head about things, all of which conflict with her whole persona of “I’m an accepting mother”. And let’s just get a few things straight here: I wasn’t upset so much about the boots, but the fact that this argument mirrors my entire life. That’s actually what set me off.

I walk away, leaving her to wallow, then come back a few minutes later after having decided how I’m going to deal with the problem. My strong, cool resolve fades quickly into complete rage, and I lose control of the tears I was holding back. All those emotions I thought were gone were back in an instant.

I explain it to her, finally. All those times of me trying to discuss my problems with college with her where she ignored me…well, when I’m crying and screaming, apparently that’s the only time she’ll truly listen. I told her that my entire life has been decisions made by her and Dad. College…I never wanted it. Every little thing…. Hell, I think the only choice I made was to go on homeschool. I told her that I feel like a burden to the family, and I feel worthless because I’m taking so few classes. And finally she listened. She told me that the whole thing was up to me at this point…. The timing couldn’t have been worse. I’m already nearly done with a year of college, it’s too late to stop now. My dad would never let me drop out anyway. You see what I mean? It’s all a trap, there’s no escaping. It doesn’t matter if she says I can do what I want because the honest truth is that I can’t. It’s too late. It’s always too late.

Then she went into this whole spill about how she knows I’m unhappy (what else is new) and I should do what makes me happy (only, guess what? I CAN’T). She starts saying she knows because I’ve been locking my door more and fighting with her more and so on and so forth. She assumes all of these things. Want to know why I lock my door? So I can have FIVE FUCKING MINUTES OF PEACE. She constantly comes into my room especially at night (which is when I write and don’t want to be disturbed even if there’s a fire or an axe murderer), and it’s godamned irritating. It actually has nothing to do with my current moods. She doesn’t know that I’m this suicidal mess that has no outlet, she just thinks I’m unhappy or depressed or something. And why do I fight? Because I’m pissed, because my moods are so off the wall I never know what to expect. And she’s with me ALL DAY long. What the hell does she think is going to happen? She thinks she knows me, but the truth is that I’m so much worse off than she assumes. And I think, deep down, I don’t want her to know and start pitying me.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually have a bad relationship with my mom the in mother/daughter way. We have always had conflicting personalities and beliefs, which is what causes most of the problems, but we generally just try to accept each other and our differences. And I have to say, she’s the only person that has been there for me sometimes when the anxiety gets bad, during those times where it was hard for me to walk out the front door or buy something in a store because of my social problems. But at the same time, she heavily overrestimates her “acceptance” factor. She’s not half as open-minded as she thinks she is, which is what gets me angry. She’s the type of person that wants no conflict, and instead allows it to build and fester until finally the flies mature and there’s no where to go but out. That’s why it is so difficult to talk to her about certain things, because she has her stance and she doesn’t want to listen to any argument because it might cause conflict. In the end it just makes her look ignorant.

When we finished talking she told me I should just wear the boots. Ha. We went shopping, bought some crap, went all over town….blah blah blah. We stopped at the bookstore, and like it always does, some force decided I needed a talking to. I opened a book on religion, flipped to the ’s’ section (gee…I wonder what I was looking up) to find a quote that said something like do what you want, what pleases you, even if it means wearing those spiked boots. It also mentioned doing a few other things, but it was the boot part that got me. I just laughed.

The Darkness

It’s been…difficult lately. Something has gone terribly wrong inside my head. I’m not quite sure yet what that is, but I know that it’s changing me, as it always has been I guess. Part of me fighting the other, trying to free me from everything in this world that has bound me up and been impeding my personal progress. All those lies.

I hate times like this where I lose my strong hold on everything. I have to struggle and bite and tear to get just a sliver of feeling to rise to the surface. I can’t think about God or “right” or “wrong” because I have nothing to say about it. I don’t care. Nihilism doesn’t begin to cover this feeling. Even all of my beliefs…during times such as now, they take the wayside. I have no thoughts on them…my mind grows clouded. I forget what I have believed for so long. I hate it. I hate not having the foundation of beliefs behind me to stabilize my shaky image. It will come back, it always does. I just wish that time was now.

No backing for the chair of philosophy
No power to lean against in times of weariness
In those times of pain, you’ll just have to stand
There you are, back in chains
Lost are thoughts of freedom, of hatred of humanity
Condemned to feel nothing, no cold even in black
You’ll always be abandoned
Stupidity is all you’ll ever know.

Nothing works out as you hope.

I feel exhausted even though I’ve done nothing of strain today. Each day seems like a brand new battle, and to be honest, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to go on with all of this. My desires are stronger than ever. I try to decide how I’ll do it. Where. Who would find me. It’s never been this bad before. I guess I fooled myself into believing I was over it, that I could always hold my head above water no matter what. All I want now is to sink and get lost in the dark, cold water. I want to see nothing, and I want the few emotions I can feel anymore to just fade away.

I have no time alone at this point either, which only seems to bring about mood swings that I don’t want to deal with. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a house that is all quiet. I understand now why it’s the solitude I crave and also why I feel so terrible when I don’t have it. It’s a bit like a regular person when you think about it. If some social butterfly was locked away from human contact for a few years they would wind up pretty fucked up too. So I’m just the opposite: the more human contact, the deeper I crawl into myself to get away. Unfortunately with my problem there is little chance I’ll get what I want. People are everywhere. No matter how far I walk into the woods I can still find people, still be bothered to give directions or to talk with some stranger who wants to know what a girl is doing out in the woods. People pry, they ask stupid questions. They have to look at you with those eyes of theirs and examine you, probe you with their mediocre and below-average intellect, all the while pretending to be oh so much better. So much more worth time and effort. And yeah, maybe I’m not worth it. Maybe realists aren’t worth saving sometimes, not when they are so far gone as I seem to be. I’m not striving to be a social ideal, I’m not striving to have a fulfilling life, so I must not be worth anything at all. Of course no one ever stops to think that perhaps not all of us find heaven in petty relationships and white collar jobs. Maybe not all of us are willling to walk around pretending to be above average, when we know better. Or maybe the world has just succeeded in making me bitter.

I’m taking normal classes at college now, lecture rooms and all. My two teachers are pretty decent, my psychology teacher especially. I’ve been emailing her my questions, which instead of brushing off like a lot of my teachers have, she actually takes the time to try and give me the answers I’m searching for, even if she has to type an entire page. I think I’d forgotten that there are people out there who acutally care. What a realist I am…I’m bordering on nihlism and pessimism at this point. I’ve also found out that with the degree I was getting, the bachelor’s degree, I can’t do any counciling. Would have been more pleasantly accepted if my advisor had taken the time to explain that part. Basically a bachelor’s degree in psychology will just serve as an achievment to wave in an employer’s face and hope for the best. In order to do any sort of counciling, even the less formal kind, you have to have a master’s degree and be specialized in some particular branch of psychology. I’ll never be able to get a master’s degree. First I’m not going to be able to survive all the statistic classes and other numerous math classes, secondly I don’t know if I could mentally handle another 3 years of school (it’s supposed to take 2 more in addition to the 4 of the bachelor’s degree, but I take too few classes to go at that pace), and third, my parents could never afford that. They can barely afford it now even though I’m in a community college. So any ideas about doing anything more hands on is out the window at this point. I would have to get a job and then try to juggle school at the same time, but with my lack of enthusiasm for school already I’m all too aware that it would probably just succeed in making me follow my more dark urges. I’m not going to push my already slim luck by furthering my boredom and hatred for being alive and breathing, and giving myself more reason to not want to exist.

I need help, I can see that now. But like always I’m unwilling to reach out for it. Besides, if anyone said point blank, “I want to help you”, I’d tell them to leave me the hell alone. No one would ever try anyway. It’s been let’s see…6 years of depression and not once, in all of that time, has anyone ever realized just how bad off I am inside. It makes me want to hate them for all those times where I did want help but was never given any. Those times my dad laughed at me for crying, or how my mom always thinks that she can tell when I don’t feel well. What if I feel bad all of the time, Mom? What if I can’t cry anymore, Dad? And my friends who thought they knew so much about life, or that they actually knew who I was…. Such a waste. All of it has been such a waste. All that time I spent trying to make everyone happy was for nothing. I’ve stopped talking to every last friend. But I know it doesn’t matter now. I don’t want medication, I don’t want to sit in a chair and let some moron try to dissect me. It’s over. That time of neediness and comfort is over. I’ll never again go back to that, no matter how much I want it.

I’m meant to be alone; it’s my blessing and my curse.