The Anonymous Diary Project

i feel so lonely and low

2011-12-27T15:16:00.001-05:00

i feel like nobody cares about me and nobody would care if i'm gone. i'm feeling so down that i just want to get in my bed and cry and cry, but i have to try and put on a smile and pretend every things okay when its not. all i want is some attention and for someone to show that they care, really do care, and one person in particular. i want him to show that he loves me as much as he used to, i want him to make some effort and make me feel special and like i'm worth something because at the moment, i feel worthless. i wish he loved me as much as i loved him. i want to be happy again :(

2011-11-07T15:59:00.001-05:00

I feel lonely lately. I don't know why. I miss the feeling, knowing that there was someone that loved me. She said that she did. But, she was emotionally stable enough to keep our relationship going. I loved her. But, even now, i know that it was hard for her. Hard for me. It's hard to keep a relationship secret from parents. Especially when they don't approve of the action. Especially when they are in denial of the fact that their daughter is a lesbian. And that she has a girlfriend. But i still miss her. I miss the kisses. And the simple hugs. And just sitting in your basement that night and watching disney movies and falling asleep side by side. I'm going to wait a little bit longer, because once you get better, i want to be there for you. But, i don't know how long i can hold out.

2011-07-19T10:11:00.001-04:00

Fear plagues the mind and casts a shadow of horror upon the victim. Aggression bites the once spotless glass gem of the soul. And the overwhelmed super-ego must tame the reins of the panicked animal the id has become. How much stress must the inferior take to supplement the anxieties of the guardian? Would punishment to the silenced inferior move her soul? Of course not. But that is a lesson the guardian has yet to learn. Love is the great mover of things, but so is fear. My heart wants to vomit the words: “YOU ARE WRONG! YOU HAVE NO PLACE IN HOW I CONTROL MY LIFE! YOU ARE A MONSTER!” But who am I to kid myself? I know better than this. This is the work of fear. Alas, I have nothing to blame. Nothing to hate. Nothing to vent out this out on. My chest heaves with the weight of sadness and stress. Of despair. Of agony in that I am a cornered animal – helpless and vulnerable to the emotional abuse of her guardian. All I can do, all that I know how to do: is to calm my own soul through solitude and let my mind rest in the infinite comforts of nothingness. And self love. I will heal myself. It is my only trusted strength left now.

To the moon and back

2011-06-29T08:25:00.001-04:00

So I've a couple things I need to say.

1. Green Day, you've completely changed me for the better. I now have a different outlook on life, so for that I thank you.

2. I hate least one thing about everyone that I know; I hate that about myself. I need to change that. Forget the bad, focus on the good! Something to work on this summer.

3. There are a few things that I wish were different that I SWEAR would make my life easier. First, I wish it was acceptable for women to not have to wear shirts&bras. (Guys I know you agree too.) In the sweltering heat, I DO NOT wanna be wearing a shirt! Im so jealous of the guys walking 'round town with their t-shirts off and tucked into their back pocket! Then your bra gets sweaty and everything is a hot mess. Second, I wish there were no homophobia. I'm not gay but I'm a huge supporter of gays :) 1 girl 5 gays, holla! And third, why the HELL does it matter how people look. I've got small boobs, so what! But APPARENTLY it's a big deal.

But hey, I just gotta roll with it. I know they say 'YOU CAN TAKE THE FIRST STEP' but Ill get arrested if I let it all hang out!

Peace!

Ps. That felt good to get it out to the world but it's also 1am so sorry for rambling xD

I want to learn from our past & move forward

2011-06-16T10:11:00.000-04:00

I love, love, love LOVE. I want to be in love again. When I am sad, I usually assume that you're the only option for future love, it's because you're the only option my brain has registered as the most recent, hopeful prospect.

I don't miss you in that dreadfully hopeless way anymore. I love simply knowing that you are well. When I see you, I still get nervous, I feel self-conscious, I try to impress you, which probably just makes me look and sound arrogant and stupid.

I can't deny that I still have some fondness for your boyish smile and your coy smirk. I will always love you, pie. However, I THINK i can love you in more than a boyfriend kind of way, even though that makes me kinda nervous. I want to learn from our past and move forward . . . whatever that is meant to be. I am comfortable with the CONCEPT that that can take any form including (gulp) a friendship. That concept would require user acceptance testing for repeatable, reliable functionality . . . but I might be open to it.

It Shall Not Be

2011-06-09T10:06:00.000-04:00

I can't stop thinking about him. I expected time to dull the ache my heart feels for him, but the longer I dwell on thoughts of him, the stronger the longing grows. I find myself reminded of him in music, conjuring his image in moments of boredom. And were it but a simple lust. I feel it would be easier to cope with were that the case. But no, my attachment to him goes beyond the physical. My spirits are lifted merely speaking with him. A 10-minute visit will brighten my entire day. I find myself wanting to know everything about him; his thoughts, fears, loves.

And while the latter - his blinding love for another woman - crushes me, I am compelled to help him obtain her. I would be content to maintain myself as a friendly shoulder of support for his fruitless romantic endeavor...despite the sometimes-overwhelming urge to slap him, kiss him, and wake him up to other possibilities. I suppose my moderate contentment by being his friend and his overall happiness with pursuing his love are more important that confessing and crushing what little connection we've thus far maintained (as well as the connection between myself and my significant other).

I often delude myself into believing that he suffers the same silent torture I endure. I know it to be mere fantasy, but it soothes my soul to imagine him listening to heartbreaking music and thinking of me with yearning; to find remnants of me in the most commonplace of objects; to pen verbose confessions to be seen by no eyes but his own unless under a veil of anonymity.

The timing - oh, the timing - is wretched. As soon as I've convinced myself that I am nothing more than a supportive friend to him, I find a small tidbit that, at least in my twisted mind, is a reaffirmation of his affection. Be it an odd comment (wondering if a girl who can steal his heart has more right to it than one who won't accept it), or the inebriated haze of a misplaced kiss at a party.

If I am to suffer, could I not be spared the basest of courtesies and at least not be left with these delusions on which to ponder? An affirmation of unrequited love would still be less torturous than the potential for something more - something beautiful - that out of fear will never be realized.

2 months until I'm married to a man I don't love

2011-05-17T08:09:00.001-04:00

I'm engaged to marry a man I don't love. There's no one to tell so I'm writing about it here.

It's all my fault that I agreed. I spent years dating him even though it never felt right. I broke up with him but didn't find anyone else and this guy and I remained friends and I started to miss all the intimacy. I asked if he wanted to get back together with me, he said no. He said he loved me but worried we'd fall back into our old patterns. A few months later, he asked if I still wanted to be with him and the FOOL I was thought, "You had made the decision to choose him so that means something. Go ahead, you'll make it work."

Bullshit. Everything that bothered me about his before bothers me still. We don't agree on anything. We don't have anything in common. I tell myself that I just need to change my perspective that he's a good man who says he loves me, is loyal, and makes plenty of money. People in other countries get married for lesser reasons.

But I bury my real self when I'm with him. He doesn't make me feel happy or secure or confident. I resent him and I don't know how I'll stay sane. I have thought of suicide in the past and think being with him might make me do it. I can't believe I chose this for myself. Everything I say to him is wrong. Either he can't hear me in the first place and asks me to repeat it or he doesn't "get it." He doesn't get me.

"I'm a man," he'll say as if that's an excuse for being rigid or obtuse or not fun, imaginative, loving.

Every aspect of this wedding planning has been miserable and I think I'm at the point where I don't think I could possibly have fun. If he wasn't there I could have fun. I'd ignore my family and hang out with my friends but ugh - I'm supposed to stand with him and talk with him and dance with him.

I could write so much more but I'll end with this sad question: How does he not know? How can he not see the sadness in my heart and how little time I want to spend with him?? There is no joy in this relationship.

My Fairytale

2011-03-27T18:07:00.000-04:00

It seemed like your average crush, back then. It sounds so stupid, thinking about it. But isn't that what's supposed to happen? Two people meet, they love each other, something happens, they don't see each other for years, then they meet each other again and everything works out. Like a fairytale....

But you didn't love me, did you? I know I'm shy. I know I'm a wallflower, then and now. I know I should have told you. But even if you didn't like me like that... we were friends. For two years, we talked about stupid things, like our mutual pokemon addiction, and not so stupid stuff. After all of these years, I still have your picture sitting on my dresser. It sounds so cliché, but do you know that you're the reason that I'm in high school and never had a boyfriend? And you forget me. I know it's been years, and I shouldn't be angry at you...but how can you completely forget about me!

Anonymous

2011-03-26T10:39:00.000-04:00

My parents divorced when I was around 5 years old. At first, we talked all the time. Every weekend, we would visit her. In the past 3 or 4 years, we've sent each other emails around once a month and she rarely visits us, then we hear all this stuff like she faked a pregnancy and she was pretending to be me on facebook. My dad blocked her and my cousin because of all the drama, and then I didn't hear from her for a year and a half. Since then my dad's girlfriend, who I disliked mostly because of mom, has become my stepmother and we get along great. I've gotten less shy, more willing to speak my mind, less indecisive, and my relationship with my father has gotten a lot better also. My mom is...it's hard to explain, but she isn't all there. I've heard people say that she's been drinking a lot, to the point where they had to carry her into the shelter because she was so drunk. She's attempted suicide 3 times. Now, she wants to start seeing us again, and my little brother has started acting up again and he and my stepmother hate each other. My parents have been fighting about whether and where I should be allowed to see her. I really don't know what to do. On one hand, she's my mom and even though there's been a lot of crap in the past few years, I still love her.....but I really don't know if it's worth it.

Oxytocin and Vasopressin

2011-03-21T11:17:00.000-04:00

There is new research that suggests that oxytocin and vasopressin may be responsible for hard-wiring our brains to bond to others, permanently, for life. This is the only thing I have heard or read that gives me hope that I am not some complete psycho needy, clingy, irreparably damaged person. Next month will be two years since our breakup. Our breakup motivated me to go on anti-depressants and now I realize that there is no pill to refocus my brain and erase you. Like in the movie Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, there is no way to erase the deeply ingrained emotions. I imagine that one day I may fall in love with someone else; at first that is what I wanted - when I broke up with you, I really wanted to just find someone else, someone that would be easier to get along with. I have dated other people that were easier to get along with, but I broke up with them, because I could not love them, not the way I loved you. Funny thing is when we met I was not interested in you, not very much. I was recovering from another breakup and you were like a teddy bear, you comforted me. I needed the emotional support you offered. Then when you and I had our first breakup a few months after we were officially dating, I could not begin to believe how much I had fallen in love. I didn't even know I was in love. That was the hardest breakup for me. The break ups that followed were difficult, but I will always remember that one the most. Crazy thing is that I can't believe two years have past and that I still long for you back in my life. It's not an emotionally acute pain, not anymore, it's just a sort of "knowing" that you "shifted" my life in a way that somehow makes it hard to go back to how things were before I met you. I just want to return to how things were when we first met. Sure there are many things I wish could have been better. There are ways that I wish you were different, I won't lie. But if I could push a button to have it all back just the way it was, I guess, I would.

What should I feel?

2011-03-13T16:01:00.000-04:00

I have always felt like the outsider, looking in, watching the world and everything in it slowly die. I have never felt connected to anything or anyone.
I only see sadness and death. Even in the face of a laughing child, all I see is how temporary, how fleeting existence is, how small we are and how nothing matters at all.
I only see how that child will grow up, lose its ethereal innocence to adolescent corruption, become an adult working 40 hours a week in a dead end job, so mundane and without happiness, and finally grow elderly to die alone and helpless in a world blanketed with gray to be forgotten in another graveyard, surrounded by hundreds of others whose faces are forgotten by all but the tombstones.
I look too long and too deeply at things, I think.
Sometimes I wonder if I know what happiness truly feels like. Sometimes I wonder if I am completely normal and in actuality, everyone feels the same as me and I am no more special or unique than they.
Sometimes I wonder if I try to appear different in hopes that people will notice me, so that I won’t be alone. Like now.
But I am not alone.
I have you.

Or do I? The way you talk about me, the way you interact with me and touch me…you really love me. Deeply.
When you talk about feelings you get when I smile, about how it melts all of your worries away and fills you with warmth, I can’t help but feel a longing sadness.
You love me, you do. But I feel nothing, just as I always have. I feel no warmth in your smile. Why are we together, then? Because I was so young and foolish and mistook excitement at something new – you’re my first, of course – for something more.
And now, I can’t bear to tell you these things for what it will do to you.
You are a sensitive soul, and no offense, but emotionally you’re rather clingy. Not a bad thing, I am too.
But that means that without me, and you’ve told me this yourself…without me you’d spiral into depression and find no reason to live.
I can’t bear the thought of that. You don’t deserve it.

I do think I care for you, though sometimes I feel I don’t care for anything in this world at all. I feel not of this world and of its people.
You are such a wonderful young man, and a beautiful person. But I wonder if you were meant for someone else, someone who can sincerely return your feelings. I am unsure if I am capable of that.
I really do cherish your company, for though I have never felt connected with anyone, I do with you. I have never felt closer to anyone, I feel like you are my other half, ignoring clichés.
It is like we are two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that happen to fit perfectly together, you are for me and I you.
You are my everything, my world, and I do feel stirrings of deep affection and fondness for you.
When we embrace, I cannot help but feel the safest I have ever felt, a comfort I have never known.
Given time, will these develop into what you describe? You are a year older than me, after all.
If so, how long would it take? Another year or so? Two? Never?
Can we stop and wait for something that may never come?
Perhaps I do feel what you feel, everyone feels things differently.
But is this love? How can I know if I’ve never felt it before?
If it were love, I wouldn’t have to ask these things. Which brings up all those thoughts in the first place.
I realize that still, I am so young. I am little more than a child at 16.
But I am not foolish, and far from unintelligent.
Or do I just think so, like every other girl my age?
Am I, like every other girl, giving too deep an importance and dramatic exaggeration to this?
Does anything even matter?
I also realize high school relationships hardly count as such, they are nothing more than silly little games.
Yet I honestly feel I have something special with you. Can we be something different, something more?
If I am proven to be wrong, so be it. We will both be devastated, certainly, but in time we will grow from it.
Everyone does.

I wish to God that I could be the one who loves you, the one who returns all of those feelings.
But I have to stop lying to myself, and more importantly you.
As hard as it is for me to say…I simply cannot force what isn’t there.

Come what may.

Friend

2011-02-18T08:49:00.001-05:00

Sometimes when someone says let go, you gotta hold on anyway.

Sounds a little crazy. They say go, just go. But, I believe that even if things are hard, they still might be worth it. If there's a way to make it work, its worth the fight to get there some day. That is... If you know that your life is better with them in it, and at one time their life was better with you in it. Don't look back and hate that you listened. Don't take the easy way out. At the end of your life, you don't want a list of people you loved that got away.

A Torrent Of Consciousness

2011-02-07T11:22:00.002-05:00

Stream of Consciousness
Why are my hands more obsessed with tapping rhythmns and masturbating than doing work?
Why am I so neurotic?
Why do I do so much thinking and come up with so little insight?
How do you cut through or circumvent something seemingly so fundamental to your thought processes, your personality, your being?
Why am I so lazy? Have I been overworked somehow? Have I not worked enough? Did my parents raise me to be lazy? Am I too good for work?
Why is it sometimes so easy for me to cry? Pent up emotions? Low emotional barriers? Both? Neither?
Sometimes I ask questions just to ask them, because it's satisfying. Why is it satisfying?
Am I living out a movie? Have I been raised on movies, and is that where my expectations for love, sex, work, and life come from? How can I escape something like that?
I feel like this is worthwhile. Why?
Why can't I discover what I'm for? Why I'm here? I don't think I need a destiny, but shouldn't I at least be able to invent one for myself? And if it's a process, why can't I get a move on? Why can't I give a shit? Why can't I just succeed somewhere in life. Is my neuroses interfering? Am I just lost in complacency?
Isn't everyone a caged animal? A beast that's been trained and beaten into submission? I know I feel like I am. I think everyone is, essentially, but I feel like I'm the only one sometimes.
Why am I so focused on sex and everyone else isn't? Is it my problem? Is it theirs? Are they and just in denial? Do they handle it better than me?
Do I hide in my room and play video games and watch movies and listen to music to escape my failure? To escape the daunting task of taking on life? Of doing something with my life? I didn't have to deal with much when I was in high school.
Can I even think for myself? Do I need to be led by the hand all the time? Is that why I have gone nowhere? Should I have gone anywhere by now? Are my expectations of myself too high? Am I afraid or just stupid? Or just lazy?
Why do I feel simultaneously better and worse than everyone else? Why do I sometimes feel the need to attack myself, to excuse myself as an egomaniacal fool? Or declare everyone else moronic?
Are paradoxes like this simply true? Do I even know what I'm talking about here?
Do I have potential? Or am I simply an above average person who has latched on to big ideas and big words, doing my best to be exceptional by some unseen standard of my own? Sometimes I feel like I could do antyhing; be a professor, be an astrophysicist, be an economist, be a director, be a writer, if I just work at it hard enough. How does one even start? How do you begin living your life after wading through it for 20 years? Have I wasted my 20 years? Will I waste 20 more? Can I avoid it? Should I avoid it?
Can my thoughts be described as "racing"? Why do I constantly fantasize about living completely fictional moments with women I find attractive, some even fictional? Why do I sometimes see how their names might sound with my last name behind it? Why do I ponder marriages, children, living together, etc.?
Why do I sometimes think of killing? Others and myself? Why do I think about what I might say before a suicide? Why am worried if it's never a serious thought? Am I censoring myself? Am I doing the machine's job: working against myself?
Why can't I get my shit together like everyone else? Does everyone have their shit together?
Why am I worried that anyone else reading this will be incredibly disturbed? Should they be? Am I on my way to becoming psychotic, instead of just neurotic? Am I just neurotic?
Will a shrink help? Do I really have anyone to talk to? Does anyone ever listen? Do I really listen?
Do I deserve to be heard?
Am I good at anything? Do I need to be?
Do I need to be an Alpha Male? Perhaps just more like an Alpha Male? A little more Type A? Am I a freak of nature? Am I worthy of passing on my genes? Should a lazy, lustful, neurotic, egomaniacal yet self-deprecating meatbag deserve to remain in the gene pool? Should I give a shit?
Will I ever even get the chance to pass on my genes? Aside from fucking some random bitch I mean?
Why do lyrics sometimes matter less than the sounds that accompany them? Am I a simpleton? Do I just like pretty sounds and pretty lights? Animal emotion? Is my appreciation for lyrics growing naturally or because I think I should pay more attention?
Do I need professional help? Will everything sort itself out eventually? Without death? Will I ever succumb to suicide or psychosis? Will I drive myself mad? Will the world drive me mad?
Is any of this good stuff for a book or film? A song?
Why don't I like books? I haven't read an actual book for so long. Why am I seemingly more interested in film and music? Am I the spawn of American consumerism, which doesn't lend itself to literature as well?
Why don't I care?
Why do I second guess everything I say? Even the second guesses? What has trained me to be such a beast of inaction? Why am I this way? And can I change? Should I?
Am I repeating these sentiments because I want to, or because it will satisfy the drama in me? The movie-made dialog feel of repetition for the enunciation of meaning?
Is the lens by which I view the world a problem? The movie lens? Can it be useful? Does it have a place in reality? Does it make me interesting? Can it make me succesful or at least insightful? Or is it an agent of destruction, only serving to blur my perception and understanding of what is and what ought to be?
Will I ever grow a beard? Should I? Would I look good with a beard? Do I need to look good?
How many of these questions have I invented for the sake of asking instead of...I dont' know?
How much does the divorce of my parents factor into my development? Am I a mommas boy?
Would a stronger, reliable father figure in my life have had a positive influence on me? Would I be less like I am? Would I be more masculine? More Type A? More Alpha Male?
Why am I always on my toes? Why am I suspicsious of people's motives sometimes? Why does conflict unnerve me so much? Why do I pursue conflict anyways at times? To prove something to myself?
Why can't I just be a good student and worker like everyone else? What's wrong with me? Does the explanation "You're just a lazy motherfucker who needs to get their shit together" suffice? Am I just rationalizing and attempting to validate my failures by suggesting that it's something other than that explanation?
Do I just want to do what I want to do? Do I just want to do things my way? Is my resistance to being told what to do so fundamental, so powerful? Is it possible that I'm just not a "working" kind of person? As in, I want to live my life exactly how I want to live it, and do as little for others as I can? Am I freakishly selfish?
Can I survive all of this? Should I?
How does one escape? Is there anything to escape from? Is nothing wrong with me? Or is everything wrong with me? Or is it some more common middle ground? Something in the gray area?
Is this too long? Am I really expressing myself, or writing this for someone else? For something else?
Who do I show this to? Should I show it to anyone? Why?
Why not?
Should I end here? I'm getting tired and I want to do a couple of things.
This has been a torrent of consciousness.
Was that clever? Fitting? Does it matter?

The Worst Day #1

2011-01-19T19:22:00.000-05:00

Boy,
I find myself wondering why we are still together, although I am completely in love with you, we argue incessantly. I find myself grabbing at clothes and edges of tables just to keep myself from screaming out in frustration, I need you to listen to me. When I say something I know you're going to find upsetting, I don't do it to inflict pain, I do it because sometimes you need to know the reason I can't answer your call - my voice would crack and you would quiz me until you got the answer you were looking for, not the truth.

I love you, there is no two ways about that. Complete, irrevocable love. That can't be it though, can it? We can't cover all the cracks with love. My friends don't argue as much as we do, they titter at one another until 5minutes later everything is just peachy. Today our argument lasted 11hours 46minutes (excluding exam time). I wish you could see this for what it is, and who's causing these argument.s Your mother. Oh yes, the terribly cliché mother in law is the brunt of this bust up. Apparently I'm controlling and dictatorial, something I've never been called before. I agree, I do ask a lot of you but there's nothing wrong with that - I want you to be the best person you can possibly be and the only way to do that is to push you to your limits - I'm allowed to do that. I want you to get your job with Rolls Royce, but the only way to do that is sacrifice other things for your studies, something your Mother can't understand at the moment. Doesn't she want the best for you?

I've tried to say all of this to you today, but you've brushed it under the rug, afraid to see what's in front of you. Perhaps you don't like the confrontation, I don't know. Perhaps you disagree with me but are just too scared to say so, and to compensate you disregard everything I've said to make yourself feel better. That's more plausible. All I know is I can't continue on in this limbo argument world we seem to have made for ourselves. I need you to be straight with me, and honest for that matter. I need to understand your head and see your thoughts clearly, as though they were my own. Please help me do this.
Girl

Inaccurate, As Always

2010-05-28T13:59:00.001-04:00

Dear You,

My mind has been constantly wandering back as to why I deleted you from my Facebook. A relationship, whether platonic or romantic, is weak if an action like that significantly breaks communication and instantly breaks that relationship. For the time being, let's pretend that this little action of mine is bigger than it really is.

Over and over one part of my mind wants to punish me for making a decision that felt insane and uncalled for. But this morning I realized that it was a perfectly sane way of protecting myself, because I was tired of the pain I inflicted on myself for liking you, for being led on, for pursuing the wrong things, for trying to do things that I thought I wouldn't regret. Now I don't trust myself because of you. I don't trust that I'll ever know even a smidgen of a correct way to find someone who will love me, and who will let me know that my feelings are valid, and that my worth will not change.

So I consider it a good old summer purging. I let go to avoid seeing you move on without me, even if I was eventually moving on without you, too. I wasn't falling for you, but I was always hoping I could pursue something with you. But you told me you weren't looking. I'm calling bullshit on that, because I don't think you really liked me, but you were fine with me as long as I gave it up to you.

On my part, I should have let you know that I'm not like that. I don't date or get intimate in that fashion. But I learned that only after you, and it pisses me off that I feel alone now, but at least I know what I want.

And it sucks that I deleted you when it seemed like it was just fine. You were always nice to me, but I needed a bit more than just nice. I don't think you could have given me more because you wouldn't care, and that's fine. It's just a matter that we mutually spoiled our budding friendship, and now I know that it'll never be repaired.

And so you're gone. I don't care. I don't want to see your face. I don't care to check up on you, I don't want to relive a false nostalgia. We may not have dated but it feels like you're my ex, so I'm right in getting rid of you.

Paranoid Count down to my Final Hours

2010-02-15T10:36:00.001-05:00

Hello,

I have always been fascinated with things that don't matter. I am a philosopher of different sorts and love to think about everything and nothing at all. My story is the average dysfunctional mom and dad. Mom and dad split up and I get to meet all of mom's boyfriends. Until I got a new step dad. Though that really doesn't matter in my life even though he can be a complete ass and makes me sad quite often.

My life started very late in life, well at lest I think it has started by now. I don't even know. When I was young my 14 year old sister [I was 8] was hit by a car well walking across the street. Of course yes I do not like cars, or crossing streets but I had also had to take care of my sister with a brain injury for about 7 years until she was back to [kinda] normal. Well she's still not the same but she can do her own thing. Well being bullyed by a brother 7 years older then me with autism. My life was stressed and I know its not as bad as most of everyone out there but

Me, I am a paranoid person and I question everything and everybody. I have friend, but I always questing if they really are because I'm paranoid that everyone hates me and that I'm so fake that I am as shiny as plastic. I hate my looks, I hate my gender, I hate my voice, I hate me and everything about me basically. I found that cutting was my only stress reliever. To see the blood on my arms to see if I could cut deeper the next time. I keep a small collecting of square papers in a book with blood on it and a date to remember every time I have cut. I started about a month ago. I have cut almost every other day.

I wish that my cutting could make me better and more lovable and maybe people will like me sooner or later because I feel so cold and lonely I cry to myself and I have never told anyone. I don't want to go see a shrink or anything I just kinda want to slowly fade away. I do this though I know I am pretty lucky I guess. I have a lot of material goods I guess but, not really much of anything else. I'm horrid in school and with people and everything.

Thanks for reading,
Love anonymous.

Problems

2010-02-14T08:40:00.001-05:00

So right now I’m about to move... Of course I tell all my friends that I’m already used to moving. I mean to some extent I am, but I don’t think I can ever really get used to starting my life over and over again. I don’t even believe it when people tell me “This is be the last time, we won’t move again.” But we will, we always do. We always have. Since 3rd grade I haven’t started and ended at the same school. I guess that would just be too simple huh? I just want to move and get it over with. I hear that my mom is getting re-married already, to the guy she cheating with when we lived in the Philippines. My dad tells me that its not my moms fault, that I shouldn’t get mad at her, that she is still my mom. But it is her fault. Why shouldn’t I get mad at her? There is something that I’ve learned. The hero is the one that stays and the villain is the one that runs. And my dad stayed.

Today my mom called me.. She said about 3 sentences to me then asked for my dads phone number so she could call him. I knew she was using me. This shouldn’t be my fight, I can’t have all this stress in my life. I’m not even in high school yet. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I will tell my dad about my little encounter with my mom on the phone. And when I say little I really mean short. It started with “Hi Sweehe,” lasted for 6 minutes and 44 seconds and ended with “Forget about it, you don’t care about me. When I kill myself it will be your fault.”

I didn’t mean this to be all about my mom. I mean the rest of my family is pretty messed up too. My dad doesn’t mean to be messed up though. He didn’t mean to get hurt. Even though he volunteered to go to Iraq. But my dad always does everything he can for me and my family. He’s got a lot on his mind. And my sister, I don’t talk to her much. But she’s in college so its not her fault. She’s busy too. My mom, well my mom is too unreliable.

It’s just.. How can people care more and pay more attention to people with boyfriend problems when I’m here dealing with so many different problems. My dad nearly died and is dying every day. My parents are getting a divorce. I’ve moved 7 times in the past year, including 3 different countries. I can’t eat. My mom tells me she will kill herself and it will be my fault. When before my dad was hurt she didn’t as much as yell at me. And worst of all, I think something is wrong with me. With my heart, sometimes just when I’m laying in bed it beats too fast. I’ve had a panic attack that no one knows about. I just.. I’m afraid to talk. My dad has so much to deal with. I can’t burden him with my problems. I don’t even know why I’m saying all of this. It must sound like I’m so desperate to do all of this. I hate myself for doing this. I sound so whiney. I sure everyone has there own problems. They shouldn’t have to deal with mine

2010-01-08T07:05:00.005-05:00

Sometimes life is strange, I have at the ripe young age of 60

suddenly come to the realization that I am no longer of much value

to society in general. My skills are very dated now. My mind not

so quick to reach the perfect logical decision all the time. I used to

be able to quickly analyze my situation make adjustments and

move on.... a seamless and smooth operation... not so now. I study,

think, rationalize and then act... either too late or incorrectly.

This past year 2009.... I really tried. Do what I know best... home

repairs. Well, hell, that didn't work. 6k later and not much else to

show for it, its now Dec and all work has dried up. So what now.

22k a year to live my lifestyle. That won't work. I eat second day

bread, no meat, canned vegetables, and still the least I spend on

groceries is $30 week.. 1.5k per yr.... 9k for medical, 6k various

other insurance, 5 k for HOA.... oh god..... where does it end.

So now what... spend down my savings and live in my truck.... I

could do that. But do I want too?? not sure?? or move down, save

even more, take the leap of faith I can live without insurance and go

from there.... Ok... I never intended to end up like this. I shoulda,

coulda, etc.... but I didn't. So here It's almost 2010 and damn!!! I

have to start over. Go back to work?? Prostitute myself on Indian

Ave..... naw, that won't work, not much demand for 60 yr old gray

haired men down there..... sell my body to science??... no did that

back in 1968.... move back to the commune.... no, it's gone....

move in with my kids?? didn't have any........ Damnnnnnn.....

Can I live from hand to mouth..... no savings, no checking account,

no credit card... etc...... pay cash, panhandle, sell scrap metal, do

as I did in 1969 and go all the way back.... damn insurance, no car,

no liabilities, no utilities, do coke, mary jane, alkyhal, anything to

dull the senses.... will the gnawing aggravation in my stomach go

away??? I don't know??

Remember 1971... St.Marks FL.... when you saw a man blown

away with automatic weapons fire... drugs... damn.... how did I get

here... where am I going.... then the withdrawal.... $50 a day

heroine habit... gotta get the monkey off my back... cold turkey..

friends... and then after being passed out in the swamps of Wakulla

County 3 days I emerge... a shadow... 120 lbs... no food or water

for days. Dehydrated, sick, weak, malarial, covered in bites..... if

there is a god then let him deliver me now to the eternal inferno of

cremation....

I lived, I thrived, I worked, I never went back, after doing this for

20 yrs a gift.... no, an opportunity.. a new me... a new beginning...

more money than my family ever had..... damn.... gone... pissed

away... and I didn't spend it on drugs.... I coulda, it came to me

without reservation or ... don't do this or that.... I coulda gone and

went back.... mainlining... shoot up… float, drift, life is perfect, life

is wonderful, the world is a beautiful place, this is Eutopia...... the

colors are ever eternal and wondrous beyond anything of

mortals........

Is there a God... why am I still here... I buried my first love... and

many after yet still I am here... Why????.... Is there a greater

scheme of things that I am supposed to be a part of..... did some

power beyond my imagination plan for me to be more, do

more????

Drug free, 60, and done with life........my rope is very short.....

Dec 16th, 2009

amends letter

2010-01-01T02:46:00.000-05:00

Dear Lukas,

i was really angry at you for a long time for the things that happened between us. however, since i am in aa, and a christian, i feel the need to forgive you or apologize for my part. so i'm writing this letter. now, over a year later, i get burned up a little bit when i think of everything that happened. i disappointed myself, mostly, by allowing you to disrespect me and treat me in a way that i would never treat anyone, even my worst enemy. i am grateful for one thing writing this letter, though, and that is that i can be completely honest. i know that out of all people, you would be most likely to understand these ramblings and not take offense.

i dont really know what happened to make things the way they were, except that everything spiraled out of control. i was at the very worst, and i'm sorry about that, if it affected you in a bad way, because i am sure it was unpleasant to be around. even now i feel embarrassed about how needy and awful i was acting, and that is the biggest reason i found it so hard to forgive you- because it's easier in some way for us to forgive other for fucking up, than it is for us to forgive them for seeing us at our very worst- i honestly hope you have forgotten knowing me in this state, because it made me cringe.

i felt so out of control, so lost, and so hopeless and needy that i clung to you for all my support, and that's not healthy. i was totally alone and vulnerable to someone like you, to use me and treat me badly and lie to me and treat me like i was barely a coherent human being.
this was a very hard lesson for me to learn, and took a long time to forgive, but i dont blame you anymore for what happened. you happened to be the person to witness and participate in my falling down, but i dont blame you because if it wasnt you it probably just would have been someone else.

i think you should know that things are a lot better for me now. i hope they are better for you too. i am a much stronger person now as a result of what i went through, all the suffering helped me find my faith in God, so i thank you for being part of that even though I hated you for a while. I wish you all the best.
Erica

New Year

2009-12-31T18:45:00.002-05:00

Happy New Year's from The Anonymous Diary Project. The project began a year ago and I hope it finds those who have contributed in a better place. The new year brings new opportunities and growth. I am looking forward to sharing more from those that need an outlet. I hope this project has helped you realize you're not alone. I know it has done so for me.
Best Wishes in the New Year!

entry

2009-12-27T09:09:00.000-05:00

this is my entry to you:

I can't remember if I cancelled my friend request or if you denied it. I don't know. It just means that I won't be able to send you my letter, the one way to get me much closer to closure. So instead, I'll flow it out of here, not necessarily to see if it gets to you, but because I need to purge these thoughts out somehow. It can't be stuck in a miserable myspace message for all time.

even though this is the first time in so many months, it sucks to undestand how i miss you. it shouldn't be fair, because it doesn't help with how i deal with relationships with others, because it affects me as much as any other dating failure would, despite this not being a dating failture because we never dated. but i've had romantic closeups with other guys and I've come to see that I intentionally sabotage those relationships in order to make it hard for me to sustain friendships (and i'm still too naive to move on from failed dating encounters because i haven't had enough). At the same time I will not place all of the blame on myself because I'll only allow so much self hate. It felt ridiculous because it seemed more convienant for you than for me towards the end of our friendship, which was all too hurtful because I hardly felt convienanced when my hard-made messages were weakly replied. I cant blame you for being a quiet guy, but I also resent you for knowing that I wanted something of an unconventional human connection, but not doing anything about it to make it unconventional or worth my while. I had to give up because my life waited for me. my LOVE life still waits for me because of you, and i just wish i knew how to make the right cure for it.

I've grown some since the time you fully knew me, as a high school senior. so I understand the progression of a strong connection fading out, and I understand that you'd be so past remembering me that this message feels so foreign. A lot of my life is like that., wherein I'm at a school making films and loving it, making lots of friends, looking at the skyline each night and smiling to myself and the path that led me here. it's a peripheral, but hurtful feeling to still remember you. Why, why, oh why has it happened that i've added, deleted you, deleted myself, added you and deleted again, only to give you a last message that I would hope and hope would hurt you because it would hurt me? why write this again? my pride is being thrown at the mercy of my innocent crushes from when I was officially a teenager, all through sending this message. and i need to send it now, where i'm slightky uninhibited so as not to feel so regretful of the pressing the "send" button. I hate it so much. but my pride and m hopeful ability to love others wants to do this, even if it gets a disappointing reply or nothing at all. I should expect that by now, because I've felt so inadequate since this time.

And what do i want from you? hell if I know. I want to talk to you in a not dramatic voice like now. i want to tell you the things i've learned, the people who changed me, the emotions that transformed me to someone who wants to talk to you, but is knowing that the lack of reply is just going to be a whip on my hardened skin, un-penetrable by this disappointmenets. So honestly, I won't care what the outcome of this will be. I've got three films, two sound mixing jobs, one mid-term, and many drunkard friends to think about. Too busy. But you've become unnessary flavor to me. shit, man.

I'll hate myself for sending this, but fuck it. if I have shitty emotional problems with guys i've never theoretically met, then i'll deal with it however the fuck i want. help me out on that, too, okay?

Sorry if I throw this shit at you now. you probably have a really hot girlfriend right now. i'd just really like some shit thrown at me right now too.

the last time?

2009-12-11T08:09:00.000-05:00

heroin almost took my life earlier this year. i said i would never go back but somehow i did. i just got over the withdrawls and i feel amazing. life seems worth living again. even the cold winter wind chilling me feels amazing simply because i can feel again. i can't say for sure if this will be the last time but i hope it is. even one day hooked on heroin is one day too many.

Worst Fear

2009-10-01T07:05:00.000-04:00

Everyday I see these couples around campus, holding hands, holding each other and it makes me wonder for what reason, I don't have that. I feel so lonely sometimes that it tears me apart. I have friends and a big family but I know somethings missing. It hurts. I fear I'll be alone for the rest of my life...what's a life worth living if you have no one to share it with? Maybe it sounds silly but it doesn't to me. I lie to myself, constantly, saying that love isn't real and that I don't have feelings for someone because I'm so scared of rejection. I'm only 18 and I know some people would say that is so young to be in love but I have never even been in a relationship in my life. I went through high school alone. All my friends from grade school have boyfriends and here I am. Alone. It just doesnt make sense...what is wrong with me? I don't want to alone. I want to be with someone. I want to fall in like with someone, hold hands with someone, kiss someone, laugh with someone. Most of all, I just want to be held by someone. I'm so terrified that will never happen...every evening as I sit on my couch I feel so alone. I feel like no one cares. I dont feel good enough for anyone. It's so scary to think about but seeing myself in 10 years alone isnt so far fetched...oh god...I'm so tired of being alone and feeling lonely. I'm so tired of seeing everyone else around me fall in love while I just sit back and watch. My worst fear has always been the though of ending up alone...I've never been more scared of it then now.

Not Ever, but Forever

2009-08-30T23:07:00.001-04:00

I'm not about to leave you, but if you forget to say I love you one more time.. how do you think I will sleep at night?
I'm head over heels and you won't open a closed lip. I miss you and I wish you would come back, but you can't. I ache.
Some things are stronger than will-power, but one day. One day you will be with me, and you won't forget silly little cliches,
or midnight dates on skype. You love me, and I forget that. You don't deserve for me to forget that or doubt you.
I'm endearing. I'm holding out my heart to you, show me yours. Tell me that everything will be alright, because it will.
I'll wait for you. Come back to me. Forever, I love you.

I need an outsiders opinion

2009-07-30T12:19:00.001-04:00

I wish I was more comfortable going home.

Visiting my family has become a nightmare.

I love them right to death and im very close to them... just not as close as I want to be.

there's something holding me back, and I don't know if its the severe anxiety I developed from a bad trip on shrooms, or just the natural guilt of moving out age 18. maybe its my bad memory?

everytime I visit home I... look at my family and my house and feel like a stranger. I feel like THEY are strangers. its neither of our faults, its just awkward for me. of course we feel the same as any family would but this feeling I get... lord its unexplainable.

I live about 4 hours away, and visit them atleast once a month for 2 or 3 days. every time I arrive I get hit like a train with memories I forgotten. memories I forgot to feel. you know? like getting off the school bus, coming home, doing absolutely nothing but go online and listen to music, or just find change in the couch to rent a movie. we'd have bbq's and bonfires and me and my sister would play and talk and desperately try to find a ride from point a to point b. I had a lot more acquantices there then I do here. regardless if I was bored to tears, the fact that I tried so hard to make plans was an adventure to me. be it camping in the woods, climbing trees, breaking into abandon houses, random house dance parties, cranking music, and making music.

my parents would get mad if I didn't load the dishwasher. I miss that. my parents would laugh at the things I said, or critique me, I miss that too.

now I live in new hampshire. im on my own. and I want more than anything to feel comfortable at home again, maybe I've found a more comfortable home? I don't know. but it hurts, not overly emotional to the point that I'd cry, but it does indeed hurt.

I think im homesick. but it could be anxiety... has anyone ever felt this way? I'd appreciate anyones input.

please

2009-07-24T09:13:00.000-04:00

The easiest thing to do is talk openly and directly about what has happened in my life, so here goes: When I was a little girl I was molested by my older sister. I believe something similar had happened to her that caused her to act it out on me, her little sister. We were both young and naive and innocent, I don't think either of us knew what it was or what it meant, we were just acting on some weird instinct we didn't understand.

When I was in 3rd grade I saw a Maury-ish TV show talking about child molestation. I had never heard that term before and didn't know what it meant but felt like it was an answer to what I knew was wrong but didn't know how to end. Later on I told my mom what was going on and I don't really remember much else about what resulted. I remember my sister was mad at me and I guess that began her aggression toward me. I remember the same house that I finally told my mom was the same house that my mom and sister fought in, literally with fists and all. I would try to mediate between them but it never worked of course. I still mediate between them, my sister despises my mom and my mom is fairly oblivious.

I could go into detail about the chaos in the years that resulted from all of this but I am moving past these things and can't allow them to be a crutch!! I guess you just have to have your past and any abuses recognized and heard in order to move past them. It took me years and years to have the courage- because it takes a lot of COURAGE, to tell anyone about this. I started with a therapist in college, after months and months of knowing exactly what I wanted to say but not having the ability to say it in session. What I finally did was write it down and read it out loud word for word to my therapist. I was always in tears after every session I left, to the point were the receptionists no longer pitied me and offered me tissues, but just gave me a sincere smile and nod when I left the office which made me feel allot better and stronger. I became proud of my tear and proud that I was facing something that was had been so scary and felt so embarrassing and had given me so much guilt. I was standing up against all these terrible thing and fighting back. Those tears were battle wounds that made me feel tough. After years of mourning and beginning the process of acceptance I am finally able to talk about what happened openly and with confidence. I have gained power over the situation and have accepted it as it is. I have since talked to my sister about it, forgave her and begged her to forgive herself.

I guess my point is you have to get stuff like this out. No matter how long it's been or how embarrassing or terrible the situation is. The only way to get power over things like this is to face it directly.

The Dark - We Hate It, We Seek it

2009-07-17T13:05:00.002-04:00

The Dark seems to repel us at times and attract us at others. I was in
a marriage where I was daily called "Mr. Sh!thead" or
"Sh!t-for-brains". This went on for over 10 years. For about 2 years,
I rebelled and forced or insisted on being addressed with a modicum of human decency. She rebelled to my rebellion and modified her
treatment, but didn't improve it. For 3 more years, when addressed - I answered.

Being called the names hurt me. Answering to the names killed me. I
was dark. I expected that this was how I would die. I actually found
myself feeling that I could welcome death. Death was a way out of the dark Hell.

When it was darkest, I met a mate that was Sunshine. There is nothing adequate to describe the birth from that darkness to this light.
Daylight is so bright.

____________________

In the Light, we have created a life that is supportive and nurturing.
Our personal life, business life, religious life, family life. We have
nothing we could ask for more of.

Growing old together is all the pleasure it should be.

And in this light, we have carved an area where we use (a lower-case)dark for our benefit. Part of our relaxation is that we are nudists or naturists and we get away to resorts and we practice that life at home also - and to be safe from rejection of our peers and loved ones ...
we keep it in the dark.

____________________

The Dark seems to repel us at times and attract us at others.

how did this happen?

2009-07-09T12:24:00.000-04:00

Somehow I became invisible somewhere between now and then I let myself completely fade into the back and became this shell of who I feel I really am or maybe of who I want to be I wake up everyday and eat the same thing for breakfast, drink from the same cup wear the same clothes in a 7 day rotation drive the same route to work only to turn around 9 hours later and drive it in reverse I eat dinner talk to my parents talk to my cats and wonder why it is I can’t find someone to love me why it is I have no friends to speak of why it is I am routinely overlooked I stare out the window maybe do a little sewing watch Law & Order then go to bed by 10pm just to wake up and do it again I feel like I have promise that I have the ability to make it – whatever it is - happen I just don’t know how to start and then get so overwhelmed by thinking about it I give up and take a nap instead I am simply terrified that I am going to wake up the crazy old cat lady only I’ll still be living in my parents basement….

This Isn't Hell.

2009-07-08T00:54:00.001-04:00

'm a 13 year old girl, and I wouldn't consider everything that's happened these past few years, exactly what a 13 year old should be seeing.

I remember when they broke the news, I didn't quite understand yet. My older brother, was drinking cough syrup frequently. I didn't get that. Until it got worse.

My brother had a drug addiction. It was from pain pills, to such injections, and over the counter cold elixirs. It took such a toll on me. And everything crashed. As a 6th grader, I had started to cut myself. It didn't last long. It came back mildly, but only lasted a tiny bit. I have been free from such activities for a while. My brother caught me doing it, anyway.

My parents even admitted that they didn't pay any attention to me during these times.

That's not the point.

I finally realized that his habit was serious when I looked down in the shower to find a syringe. I was so scared. And then I'd be coming home from school to find him passed out. On his bed, or on the floor, maybe the couch. I'd study him, to make sure he was breathing.

I specifically remember one night.

He came home late for dinner, and didn't bother to call or answer our calls. My parents and him got into such an argument, it started getting bad, and about the drugs.

My dad said "I don't think you're trying to kill yourself, I think you're trying to kill us." and which my brother replied. "You're wrong, I'm trying to kill myself." By then, my mom had ran out of the house, and took a walk. I still remember my dad grabbing my brother by the shirt. And getting right in his face.

I grabbed my cell phone and ran out of the house. I fell into my driveway screaming and crying, and I called my best friend. I asked her to help me, and asked her if I should call 911. I just screamed to her how I thought someone were to get seriously hurt that night. And she was just about to get her mom to come and get me from my house, but my mom came back.

Ends up, nobody got hurt that night. My brother wanted to call the cops for assault on my dad, but he didn't. I never remember being so scared and upset. And I cried myself to sleep for many nights. To this day, I'm haunted by those images.

I even broke down at school.

When he would leave, I would just sit there and cry at the door.

I don't remember when this happened either, but he lost his job at the hospital he worked at, for stealing drugs.

They finally took him to a mental hospital, and I had to go to my friend's house after school. I called my parents to ask where they were, and they told me everything. I got home and I bawled crying yet again. I didn't understand. They tried to calm me down, but I just couldn't and wouldn't. They finally helped me fall asleep, and the next day, I cried the whole way to school, even when we picked up my friends who we drive to school.

My friend came by and asked me what was wrong, and she gave me a hug, and I just pretty much went limp and started bawling to her. A teacher brought me into the office, but they didn't even care what was wrong. All I wanted was someone to listen to me.

My two friends tried to come sit with me, but they wouldn't let them. I wanted friends to be with me. Finally, I had stopped, and the whole grade knew. It was an easy day for me, but only at school. Everyone was so nice to me that day.

Finally, it diminished. After so much emotional pain. I thought I was going to lose my brother, my best friend. And he told me stories how he thought he was going to die. Whose the guardian angel watching over us? Who gave us that miracle?

There's a reason my brother is here with me today. There's a reason why he didn't give up, why we didn't give up on him.

But do we know? Not yet.

And I still remember, how he used to watch Intervention, and go to AA meetings. And one day when he was driving me to my friend's, the ending song from Intervention came on, it was Five Steps by The Davenports. And he was only about a week sober.

He's been sober from the end of August.

And he will be until forever. He promised, anyway.

This would conclude my story, and I know that people have been through much worse, and it's been worse with people, but I hope that someone read this, and it touched them.

Even when times get rough, and you feel like you've lost control, stop. Everyone has those bumps in the road, some larger than others, but never ever give up.

Thank you.

Secret

2009-07-07T00:22:00.001-04:00

After all these years and after all the pain you put me through i still love you and i want to be with you. I just wish you'd open yourself up to me, because the dark times we've been through are nothing compared to the light we've shared.

an entry

2009-07-06T13:32:00.000-04:00

I had a diary until I was 14, now I am turning 23. So much has happened. A friend once told me, "if you have the need to write in a journal, it means you have no best/true friends". Maybe she was right. I used to have many friends. Untill so many things went down, that I could not even share the complete truth of how I have been living to anyone...accept for my bf who has lived through it with me and has probably caused half of this stuff. I feel relief that I can "talk" to someone, and maybe even if no one reads this, I will go on with a hope that I shared my irresponsible behaviour with an anonymous friend...

I feel like a failure. I feel guilty on daily basis about everything that I do. Also, I have a crawling suspision that most of the time I just feel sorry for myself, instead of doing something about my situation. In 2005 I went to college, I lived on campus. My bf stayed with me. His friends would come over all the time. All of them had substance abuse problems. Year later, I dropped out of school. Blah blah blah, 4 years later I am finishing school(went back in 2008), still with the same guy (he doesn't talk to those friends anymore) but still with a substance abuse problem. Neadless to say, I have adopted it myself. I used to think that he was the one with the problem and I was just keeping him company...but today I have realized that maybe I am even worse...He is in denial about being addicted. He thinks it will just go away (he has sports aspirations/healthy living/something will happen/etc bs and so on). I feel very helpless. I have talked to my most trusted gf and my mom knows that we have tendensy, but no one realizes it is EVERY DAY that we "do it". Honestly, I am so TIRED I want to scream. I know that there are so many other issues in this world that I should be applying myself to, but wtf is it lazyness? addiction? crazyness? I have some stoing beliefs, I have started to take charge of my life, but no matter what I do it seems I can not remove this stupid habit that keeps following me around. I love the guy to death, but he went to the doctor, the results weren't good, and its like why can I not make it stop. I know I love him, I want to live a happy life with him have children an so on... I can not put the whole story here..too long...thank you if you read and comment..

Hey you

2009-07-05T00:24:00.000-04:00

A lot of people get weighed down by things they've done or things that have happened to them. I know i have, and i've seen things happen to people. It's hard, but you only live once.. I hate it when people don't take control of their own lives. You always have a choice. You can forgive yourself, change your habits, get help, start working out, change your diet, stop talking to people who bring you down or try something new. I know I'm fortunate, my parents honestly made me believe that i can be anything i want to be. But I also think anyone can. The trick is discovering yourself, spending time with yourself, listening to yourself and believing in yourself. Logoff the computer and go outside, get a good night sleep, read a book, start a journal, do something you don't normally do because seriously, happiness is a choice, even when life sucks. Don't be afraid to go to a psychiatrist if you have to, the right one can really help you. You could've been born with AIDS in Africa. You're lucky.

The World Is So Messed Up

2009-07-04T00:17:00.000-04:00

I have been reading all these posts on this diary and they make me so sad. All these people have such sad lives. I have had my share or maybe more of troubles. But I'm not hopeless like so many seem to be. How can the world be so hopeless? All I can say is, there is hope. There is joy too. I have found joy in God. I know that sounds corny and stupid, but it's so true. If people would just try trusting in God they would understand. I mean, what have you got to lose? It's not like once you start you have to pray everyday for the rest of your life. If you just try it, you can stop if it doesn't work. But I have to say, it works. I don't really have a great life, especially right now when we're so poor. But I am so happy. And I am loved. I just wanted to write a happy diary entry, since all the others were so sad. The world can be a beautiful, joyful place.

Where Are All of the Knights In Shining Armor?

2009-07-03T11:57:00.000-04:00

I think I have damsel in distress syndrome. Always hoping someone will come and rescue me from my life. From responsibilities and obligations. Mostly from myself. It gets odd, melancholic, lonely and dark when I don't have a particular "white knight" type in mind. The moment I lose one to a realization that they are not who I fantasized, I attempt to seek out another. When I was eleven I told all of my female classmates each week which knew young knight I fancied, moving quickly on from those who apparently lost interest in me, or vice versa. I sat alone and dreamt of flowers, kisses, them rescuing me from my horrid home life, and grand proposals, happy endings. Since, the pattern has continued, frantically picking up the pieces of myself each time one leaves to seek out a new.

Now that I am older, I realize that no one is going to rescue me. I am alone until I find someone who will seem like the sterling character I picture. Only to find that they don't really love me for me, or are abusive, or are just downright not worth notice. It makes it worse I guess to know all of this and yet still continue in the pattern of my fantastical and mostly non-existent love life.

The problem with my current "white knight" is that he has been in the picture so long I can't picture life without him. Sure, he hasn't always been in the forefront of my thoughts these past years, but I am comfortable with my fantasy of him. And he only solidified my image of him with the way he said he'd protect me if I needed him, the way he watched my back around guys who had obvious motives, and hug me lovingly when I was drunk and pathetic. I know someday that he will admit he loves me, get down on one knee, and relish in my childish tactics and tantrums. He will take care of me, whisk me away on a motorcycle or horse back or something and I will never have to face another day of horridness.

Only, now I'm at the point of my pattern where I realize that perhaps I am wrong in my fantasy. Yes, he is still perfect, but I'm starting to realize he doesn't care a lick for me anymore. That is the scariest realization of all. I'd rather find out that he is boring, dumb or ridiculous rather than find out he could never care for me how I picture him caring. Makes me sick, makes my head spin, makes me want to scream, vomit, drink myself into oblivion.

I know that this time is different, I am stronger, but I am struggling even now to avoid these spirals over something so trivial as a failed fantasy. It still hurts though, and I long to numb it instead of suffer.

Well... here i go...

2009-07-02T12:06:00.000-04:00

I have no room to complain. But I do... but mostly to myself as of late. I am trying to understand my life and what exactly is happening. I can remember a time when the future looked so bright and I would jump for joy at the thought of being in my early 20's. I'm 23... I feel hopeless.

I know my problems don't seem like much, but to me they are eating away at me. The past 2 years have been strange, for lack of a better term. I moved 300 miles away to live with my best friend because she wanted to help me be the best that i could. 7 months later i moved back, feeling like i betrayed her (which no matter how much she denies it, I think I did). I moved back because I saw how much she was improving and how much I felt I wasn't. I became a bitter person for a while.... i sank into a depression, gained 30 pounds, felt guilty and horrible and angry and sad for about a good year or so.

I did continue to talk to her... but lately things seem different. She's doing so well and I am soooo friggin' proud of her. I will always be proud of her. But i think now that i see her move up, i am getting discouraged. I feel i should be inspired by her, but it is not happening. I just quit my job about a month ago... now I am so broke it is unbeleivable. I live with my mother and brother, I have one friend who occasionally comes over so I can watch her smoke pot, and i secretly can't stand her because she is so full of herself it makes me sick..

I feel so alone right now. No love, no companionship. I can't ever have any fun because i feel that would be rewarding myself for being a fuck-up. I miss my best friend, but I feel she is making new friends that don't have severe emotional problems. I want to cry, but im so dryed up tears won't even form. I just wish that somehow I was born without chips on my shoulder or hair trigger emotions. It's all good I guess. Life goes on :)

Nothing ever changes

2009-07-01T18:57:00.001-04:00

This year I will be 45. I have no savings and work at a company which is showing signs of going under. I don't even own a house. The last guy who lived with me stuck me with a bunch of bills that I can't afford. I'm a complete loser but what upsets me the most is I'm alone.

All I want is for a man to notice I exist and be kind to me. All the men my age want 20 year olds. Honestly, even when I was 20 I was still ugly so now that I'm old I have zero chance of ever getting a date. I've tolerated so much physical and emotional abuse to avoid being alone but it always reaches a point where I can't take it anymore. Then I regret leaving no matter how horribly I was treated.

I've attempted suicide in the past and fear I'll just snap and try it again. I wish that men realized there is more to a woman than looks. I didn't ask to look this way and if I had the money I'd get plastic surgery so to treat me like garbage because I'm ugly is completly unfair. I realize there is no hope left for me but if just one person reads this and reailzes ugly people have feelings too it might make a difference for someone else.

i dont know why

2009-06-30T17:27:00.000-04:00

i dont know why i dont eat, there isnt one thing that i can blame it on or not just one that comes to mind. you might read this and think "well whats their problem then?" i dont know either so dont ask. dont get my wrong i havnt had an easy childhood, with my dad giving me and my sister druggs to make us sleep so he could go out and cheat, and then he left when i was just 3. i dont miss him because i just dont see him. mums boyfriend after that was abusive to my mum just about every day. everthings really calmed down now, so i dont know why im like this. my boyfriends just notaced and is being great. mums been great. sisters been great. so am i just craving attention?

Fear

2009-06-28T15:01:00.000-04:00

My visions cloudy again, so cloudy to the point where I don't even want to be awake anymore. I hate this. I need to see a doctor. Seeing this way makes me overly panicky and uncomfortable, which usually sets off an anxiety attack that I DO NOT want to have. I think I'm a hypochondriac.. but maybe its the people who are telling me "there's nothing wrong with your eyes", well how can you possibly say this when you can't see what im seeing? I'm stuck in a rut. My insurance card is 2 hours away at my mothers house, whom im going to visit in 2 days. Then I can go to an eye doctor. I feel like everyday my vision gets worse though. I truly feel like I'm going blind. Lately I've been thinking about being blind, how I'd go through life without my sight... and honestly, id rather be deaf than blind anyday. ugh this is an everyday struggle. it seems to get worse at night.

2009-06-27T12:13:00.000-04:00

So I'm freaking out right now...I have no job, no money, a few belongings and I'm living with my boyfriend because my family will not allow me to move back in with them...

I have to pay the bank around $400 from overdraft fees and late fees...And I have to pay a $200 phone bill of three months.

Right now I'm feeling worthless and dejected. I can't find a job anywhere because of my age (too young), or because I don't have the right "look".

Ugh! I am so tired of it all. The only thing that seems to be holding me together is my boyfriend.
He assures me that everything is going to be alright, but he doesn't understand the stress I'm under.
He gets all of his bills paid for by his family, and I can only support myself.
As frustrated as I am by all of this...I still love him. Grr....
Well people, please pray for me so that I may get a job and start to get back on my feet??
It is a harsh harsh world right now.

2009-06-26T08:14:00.001-04:00

I'm never sure how to start something like this. It seems that most of the time I'm lieing to myself as much as anyone else. Even now, I haven't told anyone the truth.
I'm afraid of how things will change at that point. Right now, I can see how my so called friends truly are. Over the past few months, as I've slowly been getting sicker, they make every excuse to stay away from me. Telling them wouldn't really solve anything... all I would get was false sympathy, guilty friendships.
I don't know why the idea of that is so frightening. But right now, I feel as though I need their hatred. I need to know who and what they really are because if they pretended, I couldn't keep up my own mask.

My closest friend. My only friend. The only person who has never stabbed me in the back and laughed while I broke, brought me out to dinner, and we talked about the future we hoped to have. Where we planned to be in just a few months.

And when she left, I cried. Because I couldn't tell her the truth, and just how much those talks hurt me.

How do I tell them that I'm not just sick... I'm not going to get better. That making plans for a few months from now might just be completely useless.

Its the oddest feeling. Not being sick. But just how... expected it was. I was always so afraid to move forward, because I always felt like I wouldn't last long. I used to dream I'd die young, and now I find its true. I'll die before I'm even old enough to drink, and I've already come to terms with that.

But I can't stand the idea of my friend treating me like I might break. Or the false sympathies of people around me, trying to make up for how cruel they've been in the past to me.

I haven't even told my parents yet. And I'm not sure when I will.... do I hurt them now, or hurt them later.

I just want life to be normal for as long as I'm able to make it be.

Is that asking to much?

Guilt.

2009-06-12T15:29:00.001-04:00

I am so annoyed at myself it's unreal. How can I constantly do this to myself?
I knew I shouldn't have gotten stoned, not because I didn't want to do drugs but because I hate the fact that weed makes me want to eat a lot of food.
Usually I try to restrict myself as much as possible so I don't get any bigger than I am now but when I have had a spliff or two my whole normal thought pattern disappears and I suddenly love food and eating. It makes me feel sick afterwards to think of what I have let enter my body. It scares and angers me to get like this. I wish there was some way I could smoke and not get the desire to eat loads.
I don't why I am so weak minded sometimes.

Every day is a struggle to lose weight or to resist the dangerous foods I really hate. It's a massive part of my life but sometimes I wish I could eat whatever I liked and not worry about my thighs getting bigger or my stomach getting more bloated. It consumes me.
I don't understand where it came from and I don't understand even though I've had counselling why it still wont go away. The thoughts I have still persist in my mind. And to some point I actually like the fact I have it, it keeps me sane in some ways.
I just wish I could have the body I want. Hopefully one day I will.

Don't apologize

2009-05-31T11:40:00.000-04:00

No one ever thinks I have problems, I’m just too “young” to have problems. They just think... Oh she’s young nothing could be wrong in her life. But I’m not just a kid, I have problems too. My life was perfect, I had great friends and I lived exactly where I wanted to. And don’t stop reading because you might think this is just a stupid “My boyfriend dumped me rant,” cause its not. My life turned to Hell on October 29, 2005. I still remember it perfectly, it was just a normal day. We were just about to leave for a movie, when my mom got the call. My dads Hum-V drove over a land mine when they were on the way to a town in Iraq...

People always said that you can sense it. When your loved ones get hurt, but I didn't feel anything. He could have died and I was just out with friends just laughing and having fun. He was in and out of the hospital for 2 years 79% of his body was burned. He couldn’t even feed himself. He’s had 54 surgeries and people still say that I’m lucky, that he could have died. But is it really worth it? I had to watch him suffer and ask us to kill him everyday because of how much pain he was in. I was still only a kid.

I don’t eat much anymore. Not because I want to feel in control of my life, or that I want to be skinny. But food just doesn’t sound good anymore, I’m never hungry. I have to force myself to eat, I constantly get dizzy but I think thats because I get dehydrated. I don’t tell any one about my life. People always respond with, Oh I’m so sorry. What are you sorry about?? You didn’t do anything. You weren’t the terrorist that planted the bomb! You weren’t my mom who cheated on my dad then moved to a different country!! You didn’t do anything!

So please just don’t apologize...

anonymous

2009-05-26T20:52:00.000-04:00

I arrived to the bar and he was already wasted. I was pretty turned off by this and considered leaving...but then i decided to just get equally as wasted. Last call came around and it was time to go...he and his friends let me drive drunk. I let me drive drunk. it was my first time ever! (and last)
We got to his place and went to his bedroom. We had crazy CRAZY sex. We had only been seeing eachother for a month and hadnt got to that level yet.
The next morning I went home. He called me the next day but I didn't hear from him after that. He was gone.
Hit and run.

Life

2009-05-12T08:27:00.000-04:00

I’m terrified to begin my life. I know its technically already started but when you become an adult its truly the beginning. What kind of person do I want to become? Where should I live? What should I do and for that matter avoid? I am like a blank canvas. How should I paint it?

The idea of looking back and wishing I had done things differently is terrifying. I have let others guide me, in hopes that since they have done this before, they will help me not make mistakes. But now I look back at the past year of my life and wonder what, if anything, have I accomplished? If anything I am worse off now then last summer. I have scared myself into a reclusive, pathetic life.

Yesterday

2009-05-11T08:16:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was my 21st birthday. The big two-one. Now I can legally drink... if I could stand the taste of alcohol and my medications wouldn't cause my liver to implode if I drink enough alcohol. I am transgendered. I knew when I was seven but neither came out nor tried to 'fix' it until I was twenty years old. After my 'mother' abandoned my father and I for her new fuckbuddy she found on her anniversary trip to Hawaii. I hate him. He scared me when I was younger. I am scared of everyone.

Yesterday, I worked an eight hour shift, and felt the familiar pain, hatred, and fear every time I was called 'sir' and 'he'. My co-workers are adjusting to my new name and I hate them because they aren't doing it fast enough. I'm such a bitch. After work, I went to a concert in Tacoma, changing in the bathroom. I ignored the birthday cake that was in the break room; I don't know why. I was silent the whole trip to the concert, and for the whole concert. I was miserable. I saw all those people having fun and enjoying themselves and I felt familiar pangs of envy. I wish I could have fun, or laugh, or enjoy myself.

Yesterday, I cried in the shower when I got home. Well, specifically, I mentally lambasted myself to attempt to cry. It didn't work. It never does. I'm so emotionally guarded that I cannot cry even when I am alone.

Yesterday, I came out to one of my close internet friends. He was unsurprised and supportive. Everyone is supportive. I hate that. I think I want to be attacked because it would mix things up and maybe kill me. I think I deserve to die. Everyone tells me that I'm smart and funny and attractive and will do well but I think they're lying. I think everyone is lying to me. I hate myself for thinking that.

Yesterday, my boyfriend convinced me that I should go on antidepressants again. I was on them for a month last time and quit because I was feeling better. I'm kind of dumb. He told me this because I was trying to make myself have an emotional breakdown on my 21st birthday. He told me this because I am consumed with self-loathing and depression, but not suicidal anymore. I wish I'd finished the job when I was. I wish I was never born, or died when I spent a week in the intensive care after being born. I wish a doctor made a mistake.

Yesterday was my 21st birthday.

Happy Birthday, me.

To That Certain Someone

2009-05-06T12:33:00.000-04:00

To that certain someone in suk.soi 4

Out of hundred emails I got from my ad here, you were the only one that I chose to meet. I had sex with you on the first night because I wanted you. And the morning after, over the coffee, you told me you fancy someonelse who had a sugar daddy that you spent a short holiday with few weeks ago, besides you have not got over with your ex who you had been with over 10 years. I had to keep my mouth shut, never express how I envious those 2 women.

We met again a week later. I did help you sorting your things at my best. Until I found out that you knew my ex and believe that he had cheat on me for while. I could not do anythingelse but cry. Its not that I want him back but sorry for myself for my years of dedication to him. You were so kind. You comforted me like I have never had before. To me, this is basic foundation of my ideal relationship, the ability to comfort, to support and really care about someone.I went back home with the hope that maybe there would be something fruitful for us. I once thought maybe you even liked me.

But my day dream was shattered when I got the wrong sms, that you supposed to send it to your other fling, saying how much you missed her. You miss that bimbo not this decent girl here who likes u. How do I support to feel?

A long email apology from you arrived the next day. I should have just relaxed and accepted it. But my ego did not let me. I wrote back with the most killing words to your ego. I told you that I slept with you coz I wanted someonelse. You were being used and all that. It is not all true. I fancy him .. yes but I did not sleep with you because I wanted a replacement. I think you are far much better person than anyone I met in a long time. I just act out saying that from my jealousy. that’s all.

Oh boy.. what have I done? I am childish. I am shallow. I just cannot cope with your rejection and I re act to it in destructive way.

I would not mind at all if these last week I had not been thinking of you. But guess what, I often do. I often think how nice it would be to be your lover. We would be watching footie all weekend and cheer up the same team. We would fly to Singapore to see the F1 race. We would just be traveling on weekend to see town and look for meaningful architecture. I would be teaching you Thai history and you teach me how to draw. I would just rip your clothes off the minute I get home from work.

But I think I screw up. We don’t even talk. It is definitely my loss.

Now, all criaglisters listen, don’t be so childish like me. You never who , or what you would meet or here. But we are here for reasons, we share the same feeling. We are lonely and hopefully at the end of this horizon could reach ,we would find someone who we could love, shag, have fun with, and perhaps be loved in return..

Transcription

2009-05-01T08:06:00.000-04:00

1. I stopped writing my diary when I moved in with him. I began the journal in third grade, and did not miss a day in nearly eleven years. But as we became closer he became my journal. I could tell him anything I wanted, and write on his body with my hands. At first this caused an explosion of creativity to echo through the rest of my life. Then I started telling him too much. To make a long story short, immediately after moving in with him, I knew I had to get away. Yet it still took two years. Looking back at the sporadic diary entries from that time, I was completely pissed off at him and at myself. It was not a good situation.

2. When I finally did move out, I began an electronic journal. I tell myself this is because I have no more room to lug around traditional volumes... already my collection takes up two mid-sized shipping containers and will probably cost $50 to mail across the country by media rate. Computer files are more portable than blank books, but that only masks their real usefulness. I have to force myself to write now - turning on my computer with good intentions, ending up with nothing.

3. My blog used to be a weekly chronicle of my fabulous life. Even when things weren't so fabulous, I would use it to keep myself focused on better things. My scattered family liked it, old classmates, random acquaintances and a few people I never met but felt connected to when their country's flag popped up on my statcounter screen. But we all know things change. I stopped writing my blog because I cannot face even that small portion of myself. Also, I know that my top two readers are my ex and the person who is a likely candidate to replace my ex. This is where things disintegrate....

Confessions of a Navy Wife

2009-04-30T18:03:00.000-04:00

me

2009-04-17T18:28:00.002-04:00

something that happen to me at the age of 14 has really changed who i am and how i think, and that would be having an abortion. i dont want to be judged for it, as everything happens for a reason, and i can see people thinking im a "slut" or "slag" but how it happened really wasnt like that, i had this boyfriend.. ill call him..george. me and george had been together for a year, and yes underage had been having sex for about 8 months, looking back on it now i know i was too young to be doing that, but being young and thinking i was in love i didnt think anything of it. the day when i took the pregnancy test was probably one of the scariest days of my life, i was sat at my boyfriends house, just waiting for those 3 minutes to be over.
after finding out i was pregnant all i really wanted to do was curl up into a ball and go to sleep, it didnt even register i had a baby inside me, i just thought.. pregnant, i know that may sound a bit stupid, but at school all they say dont get pregnant, not "dont create a small baby thats a small version of you". George didnt take the news well, and i didnt expect him to, but all i wanted was for him to be there for me, to hold me while i cried, but no. i got a slap. a few slaps. i couldnt see how it was all my fault, but i loved him and i didnt see that this was what he was going to be like for the next year. anyway.. after about an hour of crying george made me get up, i didnt want to move, but he made me, and frogg walked me to the clinic. i sat in the waiting room while he gave my details. he told me hed made his mind up that im having an abortion. which yes, i would have decided myself, but sometimes i just wonder, if i hadnt been forced, what would i have done? weeks went by as i got a little rounder, more tired, and alot grumpier, looking back makes me smile sometimes as the thought of being pregnant, you feel so special, its your little secret that no one else knows and it makes you giggle inside. for weeks george didnt really see me, or talk to me and i made the decision to tell my best guy mate..lets call him..billy. his face was blank really when i told him, but he held me for hours, not in a coming on to me way at all, just holding me, and thats when i realized what george was doing to me emotionally, and from then on, when i was sad i went to billy, who talked to me, held me when i cried and gave me advise. the day came where i took my first tablet for the abortion, i cried the whole way to the hospital, all the time in the waiting room, and even as i swallow the tablet, not once did a doctor or nurse ask me if i really wanted this. a few days later was "the big day" as joe called it, like it was a birthday. i got my own room, which i was very scared about, maybe being have to sat around with other girls. i had the second pill, but no one warned me about it. the pain was something i have never ever experianced, like my body was punishing me for doing this, (i apoligize for this bit its a bit gross) as i sat on the toliet and bled, i cried the hardest, the small lump that was baby came out and i knew that was it. my baby girl or boy was gone. i still today sit and think about what it could have looked like, what i would have called it, how it would have acted, but in the long run, i know now how horrific that experience was and how careful to be. theres not one day i dont think about it, and i hope to anyone going through this to just stay strong.

my diary

2009-04-16T14:20:00.001-04:00

Lately... I just want to die.
Not physically because I am by no means suicidal, but spiritually I wish I could start over.
See I had an abusive childhood, my family is luke-warm to me at best and I can't seem to let go of the past.
People don't like to be around me long.
Last night I let it go.
See I have multiple personality disorder (undiagnosed, but when you loose time and there are people writing in your journal that aren't you then its pretty obvious.) Its not shaken up my life too much, I have had it since I was six. Its made my time telling abilities a little fuzzy but I don't much care. The only problem is my memory.
Some of my close friends know and the others are comfortable coming out to them so I let them have free reign most times.
Little one came out.
Little one is strange, most time he just shouts and cries but when he comes out he thinks that he deserves more than anyone else because of what we went through.
So out he came and he told my friend so many horrible things, things I know I would not type (I went back and read through the conversation).
Its not him that bugs me though, that's just him, just one emotion I felt I could not feel, its her response.
She pulled out her own background when he wanted support, told him that I should GROW UP, that if she had gone through her life being OK why should we get something to hide behind.
She created a proverbial pissing contest
Oh yea gods that hurt.
So much.
I felt like she was calling me weak. She called me negative which I try not to do that often. she called me a lair. She called me manipulative
when I confronted her about it she said she was calling that one personality those things.
She doesn't realize that one personality is still me Just part of one I am afraid people will reject.
Like she did.
I have been abused, Incestuously molested, raped and betrayed. I have lived my life by sealing away memories that I can not handle. Its not the perfect existance and I know I am flaw, which is why I seek support from others
We came to her for support.
She betrayed us.
now what?

sun/morning/kiss

2009-04-14T08:55:00.000-04:00

I am a guy and I developed very deep feelings towards another guy who was sort of a friend/sort of not.........and he was all I ever thought about for a year and a half. It all started with this dream I had about him just randomly.....and it was like I had the plague after that dream......like I'd been given some kind of devil........with him in my thoughts all the time. Because I knew I could never have him. He was too beautiful, too straight, and I was too ugly, and too gay. One day him, me, and a few other people were at this place and a gay guy flirts with him and he reacts kind of uncomfortably like it weirded him out.....and in a conversation briefly after he made this comment about all these hot girls he was going to see overseas......and I literally walked out of the place.....went to a secluded spot.......and cried really hard.....it was the moment that I had to accept he really was straight and that all of my dreaming and hoping would never ever come true. In my eyes, despite me being UNcomfortable with my own bisexuality, he was all I had ever wanted....and he was all that I wished I could be.

Then one day I found out he was gay. This revelation was between the two of us. My bisexuality was equally shocking to him. We soon found out that we were attracted to each other. He liked to keep it very private. He kept emphasizing this to me and that I shouldn't ever tell anybody, not even my very closest friend. In three day's time we talked and talked for hours. All those questions and thoughts I had had for that year and a half came flooding out. The times I was with him - just out at a park or at a coffee shop or at a restaurant - those times were very special. The way he would smile. The way I felt like he was a true buddy, like he wasn't holding anything back.....I didn't have to act like I didn't like him......but for some reason I called everything off. I called him one day and told him we needed to stop talking. He'd left a book in my car. I told him I'd mail it to him. Told him this was some kind of test from God and that I had no choice......he didn't understand....but he let it happen.......he asked if he could contact me eight months down the line and see how I was.....I replied, "If you really want to"

Sometimes I feel like I will have this plague forever. Sometimes I feel like he is meant for me and I just don't know how to accept it.

Rare Consciousness

2009-04-13T22:59:00.000-04:00

Sometimes there will be a sensory jolt deep within me where my entire body turns on and suddenly I realize that I am alive and I am in this moment right now and that I do have an exterior and that there is such a thing as an exterior world.

Just a Confession

2009-04-05T10:29:00.002-04:00

i want to be ugly, so that i know boys date me because they like me.
i'm tired of dieting and starving myself.
i want a double bacon cheeseburger and i want it now.
i hate having to put on mascara in the morning when i look fine without it--
because if i don't people tell me i look tired and ask me whats wrong.
yes, i am aware that i am pretty. and that i'm white.
that doesn't mean i can't like asian boys.
i'm nerd. i know, right? shocking.
that's right-- i read manga. i have a blog.
so you know what?
screw you.
just because i'm pretty
doesn't mean that
i have to
dress preppy
have long hair
wear lipgloss
hook-up
or does it?
because that's exactly how i am.

i just wish i wasn't.

Maybe...

2009-04-04T10:03:00.000-04:00

I cut myself.

I smoke.

I drink.

I don't know why anymore.

Maybe it's because I'm clinically depressed.

Maybe it's because my mother beats me, yells at me....regrets me.

Maybe it's because my dad died.

My therapist says I'm suffering from Clinical Depression, so she gives me Paxil. My mom gives me beatings. My therapist says I'm suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, so she talks me through it and listens to me. My mom gives me beatings plus cruel words.

Maybe I deserve it.

I cry myself to sleep most nights, that is when I can sleep. Other nights, I lay awake and think about my dad. When I do sleep, I still think of him but through nightmares. The same one, every fucking night. I stand unable to move or speak while he's shot to death. He never truly dies though. His eyes stare at me, pleading with me while he slowly bleeds to death. I know that I'm dreaming but I can't wake up. Instead I thrash around hurting myself and screaming until someone notices and wakes me. I always wake up bleeding. Too bad they don't notice anymore.

Maybe they don't care.

My mom hates me now. I don't know why, she just does. She hits me for slouching, for watching t.v at the wrong times, for not cleaning well enough, for getting sick, for speaking too much, for getting 97's at school, for coming home 3 minutes late. Just about anything now. When she's not hitting me, she's yelling at me. Always the same things too:

"You're father never loved you." Lie.

"It's you're fault he's dead" Lie.

"I wish you were dead." Truth.

Maybe they're all true.

I cut myself for the control, I drink for the loss of control and I smoke for the happy medium. I can pass out in the bathroom for a half hour and nobody would notice. I have 4 siblings.

Maybe I'm suicidal.

My father loved me, he was going to save me. he can't anymore...he's gone. I don't know why because he was a good guy. He was a charismatic person that everyone loved, not just me.

I miss him. I miss happiness, smiles and laughter. I miss living. I miss certainty, because honestly, I'm just tired of maybe.

~Maybe you're reading this, maybe you're not. Thanks anyways.~

2009-03-25T12:07:00.000-04:00

I can't talk to gay people, I think I'm homophobic.
Their simpering ways, their annoying voices -
- or, at the other end of the spectrum, their overmasculinity and their overmuscled physiques.
I hate them.
Gay people are judgemental, cruel and bitchy.
When they look at you, you wonder if they are thinking how ugly you are
how stupid you are
how you are beyond saving when it comes to physical appearance.
You ask yourself...are they thinking of me? About me?
How do you know if a gay man fancies you? Does he smile at you in some way? Look at you in some way?
They either travel in packs, shrieking and hollerring with glittering white smiles
or they sit in their bedrooms with the door shut, watching pornography. And crying.
I act like it's a disease.
I look at men and think, are they gay? Do they have sex with men?
I see gay people on television, they disgust me.
I cannot talk to them. If I think someone is gay, I can't look them in the eye. I sweat profusely. I blush. I cringe at everything they say.
My parents laugh because there is a gay hotline in the newspaper, my Mother points it out to me and I go red and look away.
I think I'm homophobic.
I think I'm gay.
I think I'm a gay man...who is homophobic.
I've never kissed another man.
I've never had sex with another man.
I've never held another man's hand.
But I want to.

Anonymous Posting

2009-03-17T15:38:00.000-04:00

I hate my job. I hate my job. I hate my job.

I hate my job so much that I fantasize about quitting, about just locking up the door and going to the bar next door to get completely wasted. I imagine things that I could do to liven up my work day, like jumping through the 5 foot tall window in front of me, or backing my truck up through it and having a tail-gate picnic lunch in the middle of the show room.

I want to have sex with a random stranger in the back room, and get caught. But nobody ever comes here, so it wouldn’t be too likely to happen.

I want to invite all my friends for a party at my work. We could smoke mass amounts of pot, drink 40’s, and play the electric guitar until the neighboring businesses called the cops on us.

Sometimes I imagine what would happen if I stripped down and plastered my naked body against the glass as cars passed by on the busy highway.

I am here, all alone, all freakin day long, every day. Few, if any, customers come in. Management rarely stops in to see how I’m doing, how the store is doing.

I call friends. I go online, watch shows, myspace, blog, listen to music. But COME ON! 9 hours a freakin day? I need to DO STUFF!

I bet anything that if I died right now, it would take at least a week for anyone to notice ( barring my family and friends, of course).

I can’t quit. There are not any job openings anywhere. I have tried my best to get fired, so I could get unemployment, but to no avail.

I have stolen money from the cash drawer.

I have purposely ‘forgotten’ to do many, many, many tasks which are pertinent to everyday operation. I don’t follow the dress code.

I slack completely on the few responsibilities I do have.

I havn’t taken the trash out for weeks. I just keep piling it up in the back room. It reeks in here of old garbage. It is starting to make me sick.

I have bad mouthed the company to neighboring businesses, to customers, to fellow employees. I have refuse to attend mandatory meetings and training sessions.

I am rude to customers. I purposefully fart right before they come in, but apparently they can’t smell it over the garbage stank.

I call in ‘sick’ and am late ALL THE TIME.

I closed up the store and slept for 3 hours in the back.

I brought my kids in to work while they were sick and let them draw on the walls of the back office. One of them vomited in a box and I left it there for the weekend girl to find. She did. And she reported it.

AND I AM STILL FREAKING HERE!

2009-03-16T17:06:00.000-04:00

I didn't cheat on my husband.
We were separated for over a year.
During that time, I met a guy..
And I fell madly in love with him...
He was an artist. He said I was amazing, perfect, beautiful,everything he's ever wanted.
He looked at my art like it was brilliant, always looked at me with a mixture of love, lust, and wonder. He was gentle, and patient, and sensual.
I believed in his dreams, and tried my best to encourage, support, and inspire him.
He was the epitome of a starving artist, so I paid for almost everything.
I was an amazing and generous lover and girlfriend to him, an open and loving mother to his children, as well as my own. I went out of my way to befriend his mother, and his ex-wife, just to appease him, and them, and make life just that much easier.
He said I was like family. He said we were meant to be; He said he loved me; He said forever...
He made me want to give myself completely, to make myself belong to him.
So I did. And he took, and took, and took .... until he was done..
He tossed me aside like an old, used napkin. like I had outlived my usefulness, and was now just hindering his enjoyment of life, and taking up space in his phonebook.
And, besides, he'd found something better...
A supposed ex-supermodel, 10 years his senior, with stories that amaze and bewilder, and are probably as truthful as all the bullshit lies he fed me in the beginning.
So, I tried to get on with it. I cried. I painted. I went to work. I cried. On the weekends, I went out to the bars, during the week I took care of my kids. At night I would sob until I threw up. At work I would start crying because of a song, because of a thought, because I saw a car that looked like his drive by. I thought about him, about what I thought we had, about all the things we had done and said.. constantly.
I started taking vicoden. It made me happy, it made me feel warm and fuzzy, it helped me sleep, it helped me forget the lack of his prescence. As an added bonus, it made me feel very inspired and creative.
But I knew I couldn't keep it up.
My doctor gave me prozac.
It helps.
I'm back together with my husband now, which is a great and wonderful thing. He loves and adores me, cherishes me. I love him, for loving me so. My children are much happier having him back around. Both our families, and all of our friends, rejoiced at the news of our reconciliation. The sun shone down, birds sang, and God himself rained blessings down upon us from the heavens.
So, I plaster a smile on my face, fake laughs, and pretend to be as happy as they all seem to think I should be. And I up the dosage on my prozac. I attend family events, and parties with friends, with my husband on my arm, and hold back the tears when I think I can smell the artist's cologne wafting through the air. And I up the dosage on my prozac. I go shopping. I go to work. I dress nice and do my make-up, excercise and take care of myself, and act like I'm fine all week, all month long. Then I up the dosage on my prozac.

I'm at maximum dosage now.

an anonymous diary

2009-03-13T12:41:00.000-04:00

First of all i hate my mum, she is the person that ruined my whole life entirely. There is too much hate and suffering in me and i kept it all inside my head for many years, i always think, why me? the probability of me being me is 1/earth population, i won the unlucky draw? I look at my friends and see so much smile and happiness and i sometimes cannot smile to humourous incidents. I have not best friend, i find it so hard to talk to my friends for a long time, I am very shy and i don't talk much because of being scared of saying anything wrong because my mum shouts and screams for no good reason, but sucessful people aren't shy and they are not afraid to talk, it's like a hobby for her, she finds excuses to shout at me, she always think i'm suspicious - i'm never alone for more than 6 minutes. I don't want to hear her voice, see her shadow, smell her stench and touch her furnitures, i don't want to sense her, i wish she could just vanish into nowhere.

To relief myself i watch a lot of TV, eat a lot and play computer because i can forget about my life and enjoy for that little moment, i am desperate i would do anything to relax for a few minutes. Now i'm too desperate to forgetting about life, i find it difficult to work hard and i'm now a very lazy person.

I used to be a bright smart boy, i was lively and was always smiling. Now its the other way round, i just can't believe how depressing this has gotten, i have accepted my life and i am living a dull, dark, depressing life and i wish to change,i want to be happy again, i have a dream to complete, i don't want to suicide but there is nothing i can do , i want to change my whole life but i don't know how.

Confession

2009-03-03T08:04:00.000-05:00

I am a terrible Brother to begin with. I did not want my sister to get married to her boy friend cause he is black.I hated him. I protested his presence at family gatherings and when he gave his hand to me for a shake...I looked the other way..insulting him.
I started hating my sister also for this. I used to hate it when she used to take my car for her shopping. I didnt like it one bit.
I did not want to come to her wedding.I hated it.
I did not attend the ceremonies prior to the wedding just cause it was organised by his boy friends family. I only attended the wedding which was organised by my family.
I didnt realise the loss of face my family would have when the other 400 guests would ask for me.

Everything changed on the Wedding Day....and that night I could not sleep as I was crying for half an hour...with my face covered in my hands.

I was at the gate welocming the guests....attending to the guests.....
I did not like my dad for years as he used to beat me up. For the first time I asked my Dad for food on the wedding day. I dont know why I did this. But inside it felt good./

I now feeel I have lost a lot of respect and goodwill due to my false ego,pride and arrogant attitude. I didnt care a fuck for anyone in the family.

I was living an Individual's life. I was a Loner in every sense of the word. I ran after materialistic things. I was superficial. I didnt care about my family's struggles.

For the First time on the Wedding Day I realised the meaning of the world 'RESPONSIBILITY'. its a big word.

I have no savings to speak of today. I have spent every penny which i earned on stupid things....like expensive watches, perfumes, chocolates, clothes. These things have no value.

I fucked prostitutes at 5 Star Hotels and in Red Light Areas. I fucked one 2 days ago knowing I have to save for my family. I feeel guilty now. I paid over $300 for women....but I realise now that I didnt even give a gift worth $3 to my sister when she was leaving.

My Family has a lot of expenses in the future. I have to get married. My Brother has to get married. My Grand Mom is Sick and a huge part of my family's income goes towards her Medical Expenses. My Grand Father may die any moment...he is 86.

I was living on an Island. Aloof.....and Suddenly I am feeling my responsibilities towards my family. I feel a terrible loss for behaving like a 9 year old kid all this while....when I am 29 now.

I wish I let go off my ego...pride...false self esteem. Right Now I am feeling like I am naked with no stitch of cloth on my body. I want to suicide...but I am scared to do it.I am a coward.

I even wanted to spend money and go to Bangkok to fuck babes there. Thank Goodness Sense Prevailed and I cancelled the plan.

I want to get married. Settle down. Be happy. Is this in My Fate?

I am going to be more responsible towards my family. I am going to be more sensitive towards the needs and the demands of my family members. I am responsible.

I seek divine forgiveness from God for my Sins. May he send Love to my heart.

I love my Mother...my Sister....my Father and My Brother. I hope they all Love me too. I dont want to be lonely in this life.

Amen.

Confession

2009-03-02T11:17:00.000-05:00

I have been in a cycle of a relationship that has become some sort of addiction for both of us-- a vicious cycle of love and realizations of what we aren't able to be for each other, looking past it for the moment being since we love each other, then hitting the block again and realizing that we can't work this out... then remembering we love each other all the while remembering that we will never be what the other needs and wants... and all the while, I am standing still and time is moving.

The Man I Love

2009-02-15T11:41:00.000-05:00

The man I love will dance with me without worrying what he looks like because he knows I find it sexy.
The man I love will tell me bedtime stories, no matter how ridiculous, because he knows that “once upon a time…” is endearing.
The man I love will be silly because he loves to hear my laugh.
The man I love will bring me flowers on random days and for absolutely no reason other than he knows they make me smile.
The man I love will simply kiss me and whisper “happy valentine’s day” with nothing else because we love each other enough every other day of the year.
The man I love will be honest with me no matter what because he respects and trusts me enough to handle it.
The man I love will never make let me walk behind him because he knows we’re stronger when we’re together.
Most of all, the man I love will do all this because he knows how much I love him back.

2009-02-14T16:11:00.000-05:00

horror movies suck

2009-01-29T10:50:00.004-05:00

Every time I see a commercial for a new horror movie I either change the channel or don't watch. This isn't because I am childlike or scared but more because I have seen enough negative, dark crap in my life without exposing my brain to more of it. When I was very young I watched movies such as The Shining and Poltergeist and they seriously messed with me. I don't understand why people pay money to see movies that demonize being a human being and ends up leaving you feeling worse than you had before it started. I know friends of mine will argue that it is just entertainment. On a deeper level these types of movies add more anxiety and fear into humankind. I much prefer comedies/dramas that glorify the human experience.

Confessions of An Anorexic

2009-01-27T16:13:00.004-05:00

WHAT IS MY EATING DISORDER?
My eating disorder is a way for me to create a false sense of control, which binds by anxiety, by creating arbitrary rules and restrictions regarding my eating and exercise. It also acts as a scapegoat for my anxieties regarding socializing and intimacy, which are both rooted in a fear of rejection. This fear creates a need for me to always feel as though everyone likes me which for me ends up translating socializing into work. And I find the thought of others judging me and the effort to "impress" others exhausting and so I use my eating disorder as an excuse to not have to face social situations or create intimate relationships.

HOW DOES IT DEFINE ME?
It doesn't so much define me as it greatly limits the person that I could and would like to be. My routines end up dictating what else I can do and when I can do them. It also somewhat defines me in that, in head at least, everyone is thinking about and judging me based on my size.

WHAT ARE MY GOALS FOR RECOVERY?
I would like to eat like an average person. I would like to not have all my meals planned out ahead of time. In other words I would like to learn to be more flexible and open minded when it comes to food. Learn how to eat in moderation as opposed to by means of restriction. I would like to learn to lessen my anxiety in a way that is not self destructive. I would also like to continue to exercise but not feel the compulsion to do so and place it as such a high priority. I would like to learn to be more comfortable with who I am so that I do not feel like socializing is work as opposed to being pleasurable. I would like to learn how to find a middle ground in life instead of always defaulting to one extreme or the other. I would like to learn to feel more comfortable opening up to others.

WHAT WOULD IT FEEL LIKE TO NOT HAVE AN EATING DISORDER?
FREEDOM

NEGATIVE MESSAGES
• What if I can't stop?
• What if I gain all the weight back?
• I don't deserve to eat whenever I want.
• I am in control of when and how I eat.
• I don't like change – it holds the possibility of something better but also the possibility of something worse and I would prefer what I know and what is already comfortable over taking the risk of something worse happening.
• I'm scared – But I don't know why.
• Maybe my eating disorder does define me in that it gives me something to fill my otherwise mundane life with.
• I feel pathetic and weak – Why can't I just get up and eat
• I "have to" go home because I "have to" eat now
• What if I'm hungry later?

COUNTER MESSAGES
• What's the worst that can happen?

HOW AM I NOT OPEN TO PEOPLE?
• I don't make eye contact
• I don't share things about myself. I talk a lot but about the other person or superficial things.
• I think my body language is uninviting.
• I don't pursue things – I don't attempt to reach out to new people I meet after we part ways.

WHAT WOULD LIFE BE LIKE IF I WERE MORE OPEN?
• Being more open would either be very good or very bad and I don't think I'm willing to take the risk of it being the latter. Then again it could be just an experience - neither good nor bad, but that's what I have now and it's safe and it's comfortable and it's familiar so why take the risk?
• I would have to admit that I have flaws and expose them to the world, leaving me vulnerable to rejection [all levels – from laughter to full out abandonment.
• Closeness requires three things and I'm uncomfortable with all of them…
(1) Physical Closeness – When I find myself physically close to someone that I have an emotional attachment to I get tense [literally my muscles tense up] and I even sometimes cringe at the thought of being touched.
(2) Emotional Closeness – Sharing myself with others and that scares me because it leaves me vulnerable and I have been disappointed way too many times in the past I suppose. The more you share of yourself with another the more painful the rejection is when it comes.
(3) Mental Closeness – This requires a big commitment, at least for me, as far as time and mental strain. I like to be independent and not have to answer to others. Being open and forming real relationships would result in all the drama that goes along with that and I just don't want to deal with it.
• There are benefits, of course. The thought that someone else cares about you, the promise of something new and exciting and perhaps the most obvious upside is that without relationships [real relationships] life is somewhat empty and shallow.

RANDOM THOUGHTS
• I am also possessive over my food - don't want others eating, touching, buying or moving it.
• Loosing the weight initially was the biggest accomplishment of my life so maybe now I associate dieting/loosing weight as being an achievement that provides me with value of self worth.
• I just don't want to think about it anymore – It consumes me on some level and that is what is really getting in the way of me having a life.
• People tell me I look good and I don't know what to do with that.
• Do I thrive on the attention on some level?
• Maybe on some level I actually don't want control and by letting arbitrary things dictate when I do things I have taken all the pressure off of myself to make any decisions.

IF I DIDN'T HAVE AN EATING DISORDER WHAT WOULD I MISS ABOUT IT?
The predictability it provides.

IF I DIDN'T HAVE AN EATING DISORDER HOW WOULD LIFE BE DIFFERENT?
I can't really imagine not living this way. The thought boggles my mind. Not the weight part; that I can wrap my mind around. It's the eating without a schedule part that I can't imagine.

A DAY WITHOUT EXERCISING
THE NIGHT BEFORE – I find myself trying to make excuses/rationalizations for what I know is unhealthy behavior. In other words, I will tell myself something like "why do I have to not exercise tomorrow when there is no good reason why I can't?" Now I know you are going to say – "But there are good reasons." And I know there are but right now they don't seem like good reasons. I feel anxious and then pathetic for being what I perceive as weak and allowing food/exercise to control me. And once I feel pathetic I start to cry and then it kinda takes on a life of its own – racing heart; clenching muscles; fidgeting; hysteria.

THE DAY OF – Not nearly as bad as I thought [but then again it never is]. I woke up and felt a bit out of sorts. I was ready so much earlier than I needed to be even though I slept more. So I left for work early. Physically I was more awake [not sleepy, my legs weren't sore] but my energy level was lower than usual. On my way to work I kept finding myself thinking about old rituals that at the time seemed end-all, be-all and now they barely have any control over me. I also kept noticing that while I walked, my pants [which are pretty small in size] were falling. I tried to remind myself of all the reasons why its so unlikely that my weight will balloon up. For example, right now I am too thin and I managed to keep my weight under control even though I stopped those old rituals.

I Still Don't Want To Make This A Habit – But I now know I can do and be okay…

It's so strange how some days I feel so grossly skinny and other days I feel huge. I always KNOW the truth but somewhere inside me I block out rational thought and allow my emotions to control my thoughts as opposed to my brain.

I feel weak when I give into my disorder but at the same time I feel strong. Self deprivation makes me feel strong. Why don't I want to make things easier on myself? Why do I want to make them harder?

Maybe it isn't about self deprivation [because I actually like myself] but instead more about feeling like everything I do makes me weak which would explain why I tend to judge others so harshly for faults/weaknesses that I see within myself.

I feel like I plan everything down to the smallest detail. But very mundane stuff [mostly food related]. I guess on some level it is a way for me to make what I think of as a pathetic/boring life more exciting [but that is more how I think others perceive me and less about how I feel about my own life – I think]. But more importantly I plan for periods of time. Like I will make a plan for the evening or the afternoon or the weekend [some plans are more long term i.e. ritualistic] and then when something comes up and throws a monkey wrench into my plan I get very anxious. And although I tend to make the specifics of the "plan" as the day goes on, the overarching ritual or master plan if you will is always the same – I pick an event after which I will be able to eat [i.e. the next commercial break, the time, when someone comes or goes from the apartment], but what I wait for varies. I have improved significantly over the years [mostly due to medicine if you ask me] but inside I still feel the anxiety from not being able to control every detail of my life.

One night I found myself making dinner and the order I usually follow was no longer second nature to me. I was doing things out of order and I didn't even notice until about halfway through!!!

Instead of assuming that strangers are friends, I start out with the assumption that they are foes and that is totally backwards.

I was always so scared that if I ate earlier in the day I would be hungry at the end of the day but I never entertained the thought that I could be satisfied.

I'm basically scared to become like furniture in the room that no one notices. It's exhausting – I rather be alone!

I ate in public today and after I felt fat, not because of the quantity of the food I ate or the type of food I ate – I think I am confusing the feeling of new/different with the feeling of fat.

ANTI-COMPENSATE MENTALITY – The more I add to my diet the more I want to compensate by taking stuff away from my diet so I have decided that I need to look at it from a different perspective. Think about the days that I do not add anything new as days that I can over-compensate with my regular food instead of thinking about the days that I do add something new as a day when I can under-compensate.
*Its all about perspective and finding a balance and this way of thinking actually makes sense because I should eat in moderation throughout the day – if I eat more during the day then I should eat less at night

I am still sticking to rules – just different ones. I may be changing the game but I always set the rules before I start playing. If there are no rules I don't know when or how I am supposed to behave. How do I break the habit of being habitual???

REMOTE SEPARATION
I started by putting a movie on and putting the remote on the other side of the room. I felt anxious not being able to play with the remote [i.e. look at the guide or look at my DVR] or even just hold it. I think I closed my eyes to try and relax and not think about it
and I ended up falling asleep.

When I woke up I decided to try to only use the remote for the rest of the night when I felt it was a legitimate reason [i.e. something I would use it for if others were in the room watching with me].

Also I didn't allow myself to hold it. I kept kinda reaching for it and finding that it wasn't there but as time passed it got less noticeable.

I think that my anxiety comes from two things…
1. I like the idea that when it comes to television I can kinda control time – make it go faster; and
2. I just like having it in my hands – I think in general my anxiety is lessened when my hands are busy – IDLE HANDS!!!

25 Things

2009-01-25T12:20:00.000-05:00

1. I hate to write about myself.
2. My dog's name isn't Pete (it's Connor; or muffin, or monkey, or face, or monster, or buddy, or...) and I don't know of anyone named Alice, except for that girl who fell down the rabbit hole--and I've never actually met her.
3. Santa Clara University wasn't the right school for me. In fact, college wasn't right for me. If I could have a do-over, I'd go to culinary school. Food makes me really happy (except the meaty kind).
4. I'm wildly creative, I just don't know how to express it.
5. I agree with Tammy about running. It's for escaping from a murderer or the scene of a crime or angry Dobermans--not exercise.
6. Tradition and conformity freak me out.
7. As a result, I often feel the need to sell all my belongings, move to someplace like South America, and live off 1000 bucks for as long as I can.
8. On the other hand, I really miss my family and can't wait to move back to Cali and see them all the time.
9. I'm a Libra.
10. I have my dad's intuition and my mom's resolve, so it's worthless to try and hide things from me.
11. I miss being a smoker. That whole cancer thing is a real bummer.
12. My last name is fabulous. I'll never change it, even if I get married. I may even try to recruit my man to change his name instead :)
13. I am strangely fascinated by the 70s and 80s, especially the music.
14. I have a New York accent, but only when I'm in California.
15. Speaking of accents, I like to use different ones when I'm out and about just for the hell of it. Usually it's some amalgamation of European, with an emphasis on French.
16. The state of my apartment is a reflection of what's going on in my life; if it's messy, trouble's afoot.
17. The names of almost every guy I've ever dated has started with a 'J'.
18. I have no interest in the the Stock Market because it intimidates me. It's the only thing I know of that requires yelling, hand gestures, math, foreign languages, and deciphering of modern hieroglyphics.
19. I'm thrilled that I can spell 'hieroglyphics' without consulting a dictionary.
20. I'm in love with my best friend. Yes, he knows it, and I think he kinda likes it.
21. This is the age I wish I was again, only because I did such a crap job of celebrating it the first time around.
22. My favorite drink is a dirty Grey Goose martini with 2 olives.
23. Death doesn't scare me, but I'm certainly not going to go looking for it.
24. I taught myself how to write left handed when I was in middle school. I can also mirror write.
25. Gossip Girl is my (current) favorite show.
-Janeen

2009-01-18T10:39:00.000-05:00

2009-01-17T11:37:00.000-05:00

I have always been one of those people who respects vegetarianism but personally LOVE the taste of meat. However, recently whenever I watch cooking shows where they have to butcher the animal or stuff it with something it leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. I also keep thinking "oh man what must a serious vegetarian think when they see this". Even when I cook meat, say a hamburger and I have to mold the meat in my hand I'm way more conscious of it than I've ever been. It makes me wonder if ultimately I will become a vegetarian. I've always thought I'd always eat meat and maybe I always will but something has changed in me. I'm definitely more mindful & grateful that an animal sacrificed it's life and body to give nutrients to mine.

Lonely Traveler

2009-01-12T15:53:00.000-05:00

I am always listening to music. I bring my ipod with me wherever I go or I will have my laptop playing while I get dressed or brushing my teeth.. Whatever the case may be.. I'm always happy listening to music but as soon as the song ends I feel extremely lonely, its a weird feeling because as soon as the next song starts I'm happy again. This feeling really hurts my heart.

- The lonely traveler

2009-01-11T14:46:00.000-05:00

Dear Anonymous Diary,

While I believe that everybody should do good shit, I hate people that try to do any shit because it just means that they are not whatever it is that they are trying to be, rendering their deed phony. Let's say, for instance, that when hurricane Katrina got fucked up crazy and drowned people, I decided that I would throw in a helping hand and go to New Orleans to build somebody a house. I do not know how to build a house, nor would I ever consider building a house for anyone, ever. Not even myself. It would be a horrible house. It would appear, though, that hurricane victims do not have the same standards as I. White guilt says they would enjoy watching on while a super pale yankee from Connecticut tried to figure out how to socket wrench a staircase together. I don't buy that. If I saw me making a house for me, I would immediately request a new volunteer house-builder, preferably one with a carpentry background, and definitely NOT one wearing a tuxedo, because anyone who would wear a tuxedo to build a house in a flooded city that has alligators and corpses is an idiot. If they refused to give me a new volunteer, or if the new volunteer was just another self righteous white piece of shit trying to convince himself that, despite a lifetime of evidence proving otherwise, he could use his whiteness for the forces of good, I would request that they just let me build my own damn house. And then I would be fucked because I do not know how to build a house.

But, on the same token, why should I not build a hurricane victim a house? I have time, not much money, an able back. I feel bad enough, for sure, but build a house? You really think so? I mean, I've been told that I have the hands of a person who really likes Jesus, but, I mean, you really, really think so? How hard could it be? All you need is a socket wrench and some wood. It'll be like in boyscouts when I glued those wheels to that piece of wood and made a racecar, Racecar is a palindrome. Boy did that racecar fly down that track. It had to be the fastest six inch long wooden thing on wheels. Well, except for the five cars that placed ahead of me. It had to be the sixth fastest six inch long wooden thing on wheels. You know what, honey, pack me a day bag. I'm going right to New Orleans to build some poor son of a bitch hurricane victim the best dang house I ever built.

The thing is, though, that I never built a house for anyone who needed a house before. Not my mother when we, the four of us, her and my two brothers, were shacked up in a 2 bedroom apartment, fighting over who had to sleep on the floor and whose turn it was to have milk in their cereal. Not my aunt Nancy and Uncle Billy who lived in a trailer that was overstuffed with random shit like real ninja throwing stars and antique coffee tables. I never built a house for my buddy down the street whose kid is always going in the hospital for one of those hard to pronounce diseases that eats away but never kills. My uncle Alfred lived in the YMCA for the last fifteen years of his life before dying of something that left his face bloated and unrecognizable. He would have enjoyed a house.
I guess that I loved them too much to subject them to the expensive repair jobs and tepid wallpaper that my generosity would cost them. Perhaps I cared enough not burden them with finding a practical use for the combination wine rack/ umbrella stand that i would have crafted from left over lattice, shag carpeting, and curtain rods. They are my family, and for them I wish only the best. Hurricane Katrina victims, though, will suffer the wrath of my giant fucking heart.

xoxoxo,

Jay Pud

2009-01-09T22:31:00.001-05:00

I look in the mirror and can find something wrong with every part of my body. I am unhappy with myself and I am getting to the point where I will do whatever it takes to look and feel better. I go out at night hoping a guy will hit on me, just so I can feel beautiful for one night. On certain nights I catch myself talking to ex-boyfriends in an X-rated way just so I can feel sexy. I have become so dependant on the opposite sex because I am too lazy to put physical work into fixing my body and image.

2009-01-08T18:30:00.000-05:00

I feel this ongoing fight inside me between who I really am and who society thinks I should be. I try to fit in and feel like I will never be good enough (skinny enough, pretty enough, feminine enough). I wish I could be the real me and not worry about who everyone else thinks I should be. If I was able to let the true me out, I think I’d finally be able to find the happy, strong, independent, intelligent, tough girl I feel screaming to get out.

Whatcha Thinking?

2009-01-03T11:41:00.003-05:00

C'mon... I know you have something you want to tell us. Something small? Something big? We don't care. Just get it out!