?

Log in

No account? Create an account
   
08:16pm 26/05/2004
  The Day I Hit Rock Bottom

Wake up every morning.
Put on dirty cloths that have that unique crotch smell to them.
Pull your bags together.
Brush your teeth.
Pee.
Pace out to the car.
Light up a cigarette.
Drive to school.
You sit there wondering just how bad the school day will go. Talking with your two friends over how you have a Chemistry test and your going to fail.
Normal morning.
Except today is your birthday.
Big deal.
Same as every other day.
Then someone comes along and tells you your friend from jr. high killed herself three months ago and her funeral is this evening and would you please come, her mom wanted everyone to come.
It hits you like a brick wall covered is urine.
You used to talk to her in health class.
You used to eat lunch with her.
She used to laugh and cry.
Now she's a cold lump of nothing lying in a coffin somewhere waiting for you to weep salty tears on her grave.
Life goes on, you tell yourself.
You go to Chemistry. You fail.
All you can think about is her death and her funeral and what little black dress you should wear. Then you remember that it's your birthday and you feel completely miserable.
You start to dread going home. Facing your family and trying to act happy as they give you the usual cards, the usual gifts. Trying to explain to them that someone died. You dread going home. "Hi mom, Jenny killed herself and the funerals tonight so I wont be home for dinner. And if you need me later I'll be in my room burning my wrist with a lighter."
You don't go home. You stay at school for an hour. You have to go home sometime.
Your parents think something is wrong. You can't explain it to them. Why can't they leave you alone for once? Go away. I'm in a hole. I'll be better tomorrow.
You cry yourself to sleep.
Wake up in the morning.
Put on dirty cloths that have that unique crotch smell to them again.
Pull your bags together.
Brush your teeth.
Pee.
Pace out to the car.
Light up a cigarette.
Drive to school.
You don't sit with your friends.
You sit alone.
And cry silently to yourself.
You never made it to the funeral because you couldn't handle the pain.
It was the straw that broke the camels back.
You went down.
Down.
Down.
Until you fall.
You hit rock bottom.
Nothing matters anymore. You can't think. You can't sleep. There's just nothing anymore. You might as well be dead.
You don't care about anything.
You failed your chemistry test with a 37. You forgot about your geometry test. You got thrown out of French class. Nothing matters. Nothing has any meaning anymore. You can't feel anything. You're numb.
You go home again. No ones home. You're alone again. You burn yourself with a lighter. Just to see if you can still feel.
Three hours later I blisters up. You pop it. Blood. Blue's Clues band-aides.
You have a scar later.
School the next day. Your three closest friends have the same wound in the same place. You hand out the band-aides.
For the next three months until school gets out your depressed.
So is everyone around you.
Nothing gets to you. You're numb. You still can't feel the burn that's becoming infected underneath that Blue's Clues band-aide.
You cry every night for a week before you fall asleep into a coma. No dreams. Just black. Hours pass in reality and only seconds in your mind.
For a week you cry yourself to sleep every night.
After a week, you can't even cry.
That's how depressed you are.
You can't even cry.
Instead you lie awake at night. Not sleeping.
Insomnia.
You're miles away from everything. Nothing is in the same world with you anymore. You're still alone. With an open wound on your wrist. Under the Blue's Clues band-aid. It hurts to move your wrist.
For three months you're dead inside. You can't cry. You can't move your wrist.
No one gets it except the other three people with Blue's Clues band-aides covering up the same blistering burn on their wrists.
You've hit rock bottom.
You turned a corner.
There's no going back to the way you were.
You meet people. Date people. Nothing is ever the same. Not after you hit the bottom.
 
     Read 1 - Post
 
   
07:05pm 10/04/2004
  Bend this you fucker, bend my fucking admiration into hate,
Bend all the sweetness I acquire into bitter angst;
Take all the warmness that I own, steal it from my safe.
Move me till I can’t be moved, reap all you can take.
Smother all the flames, until they turn to ash.
Leave me waiting there, lying on my back.
Turning over, one more tear
Forming fists in these moments of this fear.
One more rhyming scheme, until I hit the road.
One more fucking moment until you blow your load.
All over everything you stole.

Let’s end this one on an awkward beat.
 
     Read 3 - Post
 
   
11:31pm 09/03/2004
  Today is far from a normal day.
Instead, its been a month and a few days, since you went away.

You were not only my mother, but also my friend.
Who would have thought, that you would be dead?

I tried to pretend that it wasn't you,
But when reality sets, what's there to do?

How could you leave like that, without saying goodbye?
Oh, it just hit me; why'd you have to die?
 
     Read 7 - Post
 
   
09:14pm 31/01/2004
  life - that property of plants and animals which makes it possible for them to take in food, get energy from it, grow, adapt themselves to their surroundings, and reproduce their kind : it is the quality that distinguishes a living animal or plant from inorganic matter or a dead organism.
-webster's dictionary

where in that definition does it say anything about free will? or thinking? or love? or anything that we feel is so key to life.

everyone makes life out to have a secret, some key to it. like there's some specific way to live, but that definition makes it all seem pretty blunt. it doesn't seem like there's much of a secret. it seems like all that seperates us from rocks is our ability to eat, grow, adapt, and reproduce.

this can be taken one of two ways.

the first is that we are doing something wrong. there is no secret to life. there's no way to live it. the word 'love' is mentioned nowhere in that sentence. this can also be taken one of two ways. we shouldn't love, or there is no right way to love. it's so imperfect it shouldn't even be tangled in with life's definition.

the second way this can be taken is that rocks don't eat, grow, adapt, or reproduce, but that's all that seperates us. we are similar to inorganic matter, because there are only four things that we can do that it can't. perhaps it can love, just as we can.

somehow, everyone got the idea that in to live the right way, you have to fall in love. some people assume that is the only way.

good old webster must've missed the memo. him and i would've hit it off right away.
 
     Post
 
First Post   
04:15pm 26/01/2004
 
mood: contemplative
Well, today I had my AP Spanish midterm. It went pretty smoothly, though I think I could have made a slight heavier impression when it came to the verbal. I practiced a decent amount, and was a little disappointed when I couldn't remember some of the conjugate forms. Anyway, it's not a big deal. I'm set, and I really should remind myself once in a while that everything's alright. I have a good deal going for me right now, and I should enjoy my life while it's still moving pretty easy.

I've pretty much decided to sign with Boston College. I mean, despite being two thousand dollars more than MIT, which my sister goes to, I still think it'll be worth it. I really do see myself in that city, and I think it will be a great experience for me. Detroit is just... I don't really, and have never liked it here. People say it's bad, the crime's bad, everything's bad, and then those who live here "beg to differ," but I really wouldn't. I would have to agree. It's dismal here.

So, that's about all I have to say. Oh, and hello to everyone on add_me. I don't know how to do that picture-link thing that everyone else does yet, so if someone could show me that would be great. Thanks for adding me, if you have. I guess some entries will be friends-only, once I figure that out as well. That's all I can really say for now.

I'm out. Adios.
 
     Read 1 - Post