Lost

I just want to write. I just want to let my emotions roll. I want to get so lost in an idea or a thought that I lose hours just typing. I used to all the time. I remember when I was in middle school and high school that I would have millions of little spurts of ideas. Story ideas. Or even just two lined phrases that weren't connected to anything I'd ever written. They felt like these little spurted phrases were a part of something bigger that I hadn't written yet. I used to feel like I couldn't get all of my ideas on paper because there were so many.
Now, it feels like I could stare at a blank piece of paper all day long and never get an idea. Sure, there have been a couple spurts over the past couple of years but nothing in comparison to how it used to be. I remember getting in trouble in school because my teacher heard me flipping papers so much. I would be writing notes on the lessons(and keeping up with the teacher) while writing away at my stories. When I got in trouble, I didn't stop writing, I just became more sneaky about it. I started writing stories in the spare spaces of the notes I was taking. Looking at one of those pages, you'd see my carefully outlined notes, perfect for me to study from. Then, all around those notes were much smaller written words, forming lines and lines of whatever story I was working on that day. I've never finished a story. Well, I say I have but it was an extremely short story(about 3 pages long) about almost nothing. I even titled it "Nothing Never Known". It was and extremely depressing story. And it's nothing spectacular. It's just the only story I've ever finished.
Sometimes it would bother me that I'd never finished a story. I always used to say, "I just want to finish a story." Now, I just want to write again. Really write.
I feel like the emotions I used to have that led to me writing and kept me writing have been shut off. I don't know how to turn them back on. I'm slightly afraid to because that was such a dark time of my life. Not that I haven't had dark times since then, but they seemed different. My dark times back then were filled with feelings, even if it was always feeling sad. My most recent dark times were filled with numbness.

Afraid of Success

I think I’ve finally had enough. I think I’ve finally had enough feeling like pure shit. I’ve had enough feeling like I have no energy. Not feeling like doing anything for days on end. I think I’ve had enough of the depression and the anxiety. I’ve had enough of it consuming me. I’ve had enough feeling sorry for myself, and feeling like I’m just not good enough and never will be. I’ve simply had enough. But now where do I go? How do I pick myself up and begin that journey upwards? How will I even be sure that I can make it to that place. I’m not even sure I’ve ever been to a place of happiness and feeling truly satisfied with who I am and where I am. I’m always setting these goals for myself. Everyone says goals are great. But what if you’re the type of person who, when you get close to a goal you change it up and push the goal even further away. I’ve always been so scared of failing. But maybe I’ve always been afraid of success too, and that it just won’t be enough. Maybe that’s why I’ve never climbed out of this hole. It eventually got so comfortable and the top of it just looked so scary that I decided to settle in for the long haul. But I can’t help knowing that I’m really missing out on something big. My life. 

Disappointment

I think I’ve been focusing so much on how hard my life is lately that it’s taken the biggest toll of all. And it’s not that it’s hard because I live on my own, pay my own bills, work as much as possible, and still go to school(although that is rather tough right now). I think that the hardest part about it is feeling like I’m constantly fighting. Fighting for more work hours. Fighting for more money. Fighting to just get school done with. But beyond that, I feel like I’m constantly fighting to be recognized. Fighting for people to support me and be proud of me. Don’t get me wrong, I do have support. I especially have it from the person it means most(my mother). But there’s this entire other half of support that is completely missing. It’s like a bridge that half collapsed. The word “disappointment” is ringing so loudly in my head that I can’t shut it off. It’s a word that’s hard to hear, hard to see, and most certainly hard to feel. It’s a word that I can’t recover from. It’s a word I’m fighting whole-heartedly against and I’m running out of energy fast. It takes me back. First stop is too long ago to dredge up. But the next stop is recent. The next stop is the most recent fight that I’m still trying to bounce back from losing. It’s the fight of two years. The feeling of just completely losing two years. Well, not completely. But still, it’s the fact that I feel the need to constantly prove myself and I have nothing to show for those two years other than some things I learned and the abuse of my heart. No, I am still not over everything that happened those two years. Because ever since then(it’s only been a year) I feel like I am still trying to regain everything I lost. I separated myself from every situation I was in. I “became a true adult” thinking that that would finally, finally get the attention of everyone and finally make them stop using me and start appreciating me. But here I am, coming quickly on the “one year anniversary” of the summer that I changed my entire life. And what do I feel like I have to show for it? Someone being disappointed in me. I’m about to turn 21(in 5 days) and it’s a time that you should celebrate. Yet, this word is resounding loud in my head. Disappointment. I’ve been told many times that there will always be those people you can never please. But why does it have to be the entire half of what should always be someone’s support system?  

Block or Clog?

I took the first step today. I made a phone call. Now I just have to make another phone call. And then actually go. Maybe, just maybe I can finally get all of this under control. Over the years, I've managed to bat away depression. I've managed to push it away. Yet, even when I thought it was gone, it was still lingering. It was looming over me. Waiting until that moment of weakness so it could come sweeping in on me. And it's done it once again. Sadly, this time I have medicine for it. I have the means to go and find solutions to beat it. Yet it's the one demon that lives inside me. I don't want it here. Yet, it's been a part of me for so long. It used to be just a visitor. Now, it's ingrained in me. I don't know if it can ever go anywhere. Some days, I'm scared of it leaving forever. It's the one constant. In a way, it's my release. It gives me a reason to just cry. To just lay in bed and sleep. To just not be anything for a day. I've always believed that sad emotions are easier to portray then happy ones. I already feel like I've lost a big part of me. I feel as though I've lost my way with words. I feel as though nothing flows anymore. Not even a trickle most days. What will I do when the day comes that the brick wall is completely erected. Where will I turn when I've lost my very last word. Will something replace it? Or will I be left with the shadows of once felt like my safety net. Yet, I can't live in the shadows. I can't rely on my excuses. It terrifies the hell out of me. But, maybe, just maybe, there will be something to fill the sadness that took over. Just maybe...maybe there is hope for happiness. Maybe it's not a block at all but maybe it's just a clog. Maybe there is so much waiting to come out of me that it got stuck and then it got lost, got tired of fighting for life. Maybe finally talking will bring my words back to me.

Carelessly Shutting Down

I don't know what to think anymore. The things I used to love just seem so mundane lately. The things I couldn't wait to do, I just push aside and do nothing instead. Hours on end I lay around, watching Hulu Plus. It's not just the rainy days that I feel down. It's nearly everyday. I've been on anti-depressants for a year now. Sure, at first they worked wonders. I felt like I never needed the anxiety pills then I felt like I didn't need the anti-depressants either. Sure, I've been horrible about taking them lately. But it's so much more than that. I feel as though the life has been drained out of me. I want to cry. But why? I want to just curl up and go to sleep, yet I'm not sleep-deprived today. I want to blame everything for my problems. My job at the restaurant(well there is no denying it is pure hell). The college I transferred to simply because I couldn't afford to stay where I already was(and I still can't make myself like the new school). The place I live(sure, the apartment is a great place but the other person can't stand being near me anymore over dumb issues.) The fact that I even have two jobs because I can't afford to live off one and yet I'm still struggling to make ends meet. The fact that the person that I love lives an hour away from me and it is so hard to find time to drive there, even if just for one night. All these things wear me down. But yet, I'm not so sure they are the only problem. I've had issues in the past. I've struggled with depression. Yet, I can't remember if I ever felt this low for such elongated periods of time. My doctor tells me I need to see a therapist. He's right. Yet, when and how am I going to fit one into my life. I'm terrified to even begin the search. I don't want to pick and choose through therapists, trying them on until I find just the right fit. I used to have so many ways to cope with stress. I used to write all the time. Now, I barely write. When I do write, it's just short stints that never go anywhere, mixed in with everything else going on and lost in the rubble. I used to avert my stress and sadness to other stuff. I used to busy myself. I used to read all the time. Now, I just sit here or lay on my bed and watch tv shows online. I don't do anything anymore. I don't even want to cook anymore. I'm spiraling downward and I know it yet I don't want to do anything about it. I just want to sit here and wallow in my sadness. Those papers the counseling center at school gave me for references to places in the city? Still sitting in that draw right beside me. I'm trying to make myself pull it out. Make myself actually begin the search. Yet, it's just one more thing I have to do. One more thing I can put off, inevitably too. I'm shutting down. I feel bad about it. I feel as though I'm shutting off the people who actually care but I can't stop myself. I've cut myself off. I can't care about the things I once cared about. I'm fighting to keep my passion for photography. It's still there and kicking. It's about the only thing still kicking me to do something other than work and sleep. Yet, it's only kicking. And I'm still not doing.

We both say "why cant i have love like that". Yet the difference is, you can easy have it. And im still stuck here in dreamland.

Crumbling Control

Control. Some people love it. Some people hate it. Some people can't live without it. For those, they'll do anything to keep it. When they don't have it, they spin out of control. It's like the slightest loss of control can send a control-freak into a control-less downward spiral. They begin to pick fights with anyone and everyone. They have to have the upper-hand, even if it's all for the wrong reasons and will soon crumble out from under them. It's another one of those vicious cycles.

Constrained.

Twenty. That's how old I'll be in 18 days. Junior. That's what I am in college. COLLEGE. Not High School. Not Junior High. But College. I'm moving out on my own in at least a month. I've taken care of myself. I've taken care of others. Yet, I am still treated like I am a good-for-nothing horrible little child. Yet, I am not. I have always listened to and respected elders and done what I am told. Yet, even when I do, I still get trampled on. Oh it doesn't matter how good I do something. For some reason, she still holds these invisible reigns over my head and restricts me in what I can do. Then she wonders why I don't want to do anything extra or anything for her to begin with. So many people ask me why I put up with it. Or why I don't just say or do something about it. Because I literally cannot afford to be put out on my butt. And I know that that is exactly what she would do if I even began to say anything back. For something so simple as asking her "why?" would get me thrown out. In a world where the saying "It's not fair" is cliche, this saying fits absolutely perfectly. I can't find other words. I can't find better words. My anger clouds the way for clear words that express how I feel right now.

Seatle

Another sleepless night. Maybe I should move to Seattle? At least then maybe I'd be on the right time zone. Another plus, that would be about as far as I could get away without having to learn a new language. That'd be the "fresh start" I've been aching for for years now. But really. Who can actually get a fresh start. We can't escape our own memories. And even when we do, we always have someone to remind us of the past.

Seattle....I wonder how photographers do there....

Daylight, Bright; Nightfall, There Goes the Wall

Tonight's one of those nights I wish I could write. Lately it's been so hard to just write, no matter what it is. I can't blame this on a simple case of writer's block. It feels like more than that. It feels like a mental block. Like my mind has just shut down and won't wake up. I know there is so much swarming around in my head, wanting to get out. But it's like something has created this block inside my head and even I can't get through. It's even been hard for me to let the tears flow. Yet, as I write this about how I can't write, can't think, and can't cry anymore a tear has formed in the corner of my eye. But it won't fall. I clamp my eyes shut and force it to fall. Yet nothing comes of it. No over flow of emotions. No magnificent words to share. No solid thoughts. Even the feelings that I do know I have have been buried. I buried them as soon as I felt them beginning to surface. Not only can I not find solid grounding for myself lately but I know I couldn't find a solid home for love in my heart. I want it. I even know how exactly I want it. But I can't let it in. I can't let even a small piece of my heart begin to flutter with love. Because once one part of me begins to flutter, the rest of me will fly into a whirlwind tornado. I miss the feeling of love, I miss the feeling of security, of knowing what is going to happen next. I miss the fact that I could dream of "that day". But isn't this what I've been working towards? Isn't this the dream I've been wanting. To get out on my own? But that's just it. When you try to get out on your own, you tend to end up alone. I want someone to take this leap with me. I know I can do it alone. That's not a problem. The problem is I don't want to do this alone. I know twenty is still young but for me it's taken a lifetime to get here. (Yes, I realize it has indeed taken a lifetime-my lifetime-to get here) It just feels like it's been ages. I started being an adult when I was eight years old. I never looked back. I couldn't. I had a heart-broken dad to take care of. My brother, as much as he wouldn't admit it, was too heartbroken himself to handle it. Me, being the young, naive, unknowing one was left to take care of it all. I didn't know any better so how could I fall apart? I didn't know what exactly I was falling apart into. All I'd ever known was the life I'd blindly lived. I didn't know there was another way. Now I do. Now I know the pain that comes with the territory of loving someone. Now I know the pain of doing what is best for yourself, even if it involves heartbreak either on yourself or others involved. I also know that that is what life takes. Life takes pain. They say you can't have the rainbow without the storm, the happiness without the sadness. You know what, they say these things for a reason. Not because they're catchy sayings but because they're true. Pain can be masked by so many other things. Jealousy, anger, bitterness, rage, frustration, false happiness. Yet late at night, when the rest of the world has gone to sleep, the anger and frustration fade away. All that's left is the raw pain. And the tears. It turns out that even a good mask, or some unknown wall can't even hold back the tears. They can't hold back the emotions. The only thing that holds them back is the daylight.