Monday, November 29, 2010
I took my depression medication for the first time in about 8 months. I thought i was fine. I ddnt actually think I was depressed. As it turns out, I am. Everything in my life is good, great even. (Beside some things with my mom, but they're better.) But yet, I still feel so sad and lonley. My dad keeps asking me what's wrong. How do I explain? I hate this...
Friday, November 5, 2010
Why do the people you really care about have to walk out of your life, leaving an empty space behind? Well, I guess in this case I kind of walk out of his life, really with no goodbye. No, I'm not talking about Jon (we are perfectly and absloutley happy together; I just love him so much.) I'm talking about MP, my theology teacher from freshman year. How pathetic is that?
When I started high school at a private Catholic school that I hated, he was the only good thing. I feltlast and confused being the social outcast that I was. But Mp, he change me. I don't even think he knows how much he has effected my life. He is just one of those genuienly caring and loving people in this world. Mp was a mentor to me, in a way. He was one of the only one I could talk to about how I fgelt. Obviously, I was ver depressed and confsed my freshmen year and he helped put things in perspective for me. He gave me advice and tryed to help me when no one else seemed to care. We had some really great conversations, and I miss that. I miss him.
I know this must sound strange, after all he was just my teacher, but it's just hard when you have someone who has touched your life in such a way, and then lose all ontact with them. That's really my fault. When I switched high schools my sophmore year, I thought it would be better to just leave the opast, in the past. But that wasnt the best decision because I still hurt because of it.
When I started high school at a private Catholic school that I hated, he was the only good thing. I feltlast and confused being the social outcast that I was. But Mp, he change me. I don't even think he knows how much he has effected my life. He is just one of those genuienly caring and loving people in this world. Mp was a mentor to me, in a way. He was one of the only one I could talk to about how I fgelt. Obviously, I was ver depressed and confsed my freshmen year and he helped put things in perspective for me. He gave me advice and tryed to help me when no one else seemed to care. We had some really great conversations, and I miss that. I miss him.
I know this must sound strange, after all he was just my teacher, but it's just hard when you have someone who has touched your life in such a way, and then lose all ontact with them. That's really my fault. When I switched high schools my sophmore year, I thought it would be better to just leave the opast, in the past. But that wasnt the best decision because I still hurt because of it.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
I say I'm over it.
I put on a smile,
And pretend its okay
that we're not friends.
I see your picture and want to cry,
Reading your old letters makes me want to die.
I can't even hear your name without remanicing:
We laughed together,
We cried together,
and I thought I'd be that way forever.
How stupid of me to believe you.
I trusted u with my wounded soul,
with my damaged heart.
You mended them and said it would be alright.
Then tore them apart.
And the worst part is that you don't even see
The pain in my eyes,
the hurt in my voice.
I thought I meant as much to you as you did,
Do,
Mean to me.
It's not fair it end like this.
I loved you as a best friend,
and it's that best fiend I miss.
I put on a smile,
And pretend its okay
that we're not friends.
I see your picture and want to cry,
Reading your old letters makes me want to die.
I can't even hear your name without remanicing:
We laughed together,
We cried together,
and I thought I'd be that way forever.
How stupid of me to believe you.
I trusted u with my wounded soul,
with my damaged heart.
You mended them and said it would be alright.
Then tore them apart.
And the worst part is that you don't even see
The pain in my eyes,
the hurt in my voice.
I thought I meant as much to you as you did,
Do,
Mean to me.
It's not fair it end like this.
I loved you as a best friend,
and it's that best fiend I miss.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
This is a memoir I wrote for my english class:
Skin Deep Secrets
I walk into class with bags under my eyes. I avoid your stare, your concerned look. I wade through your lesson. I don’t want to look at you or meet your eye, because I know if I do, you’ll be able to tell. The bell rings and I sigh. I wince as you touch my arm and ask why. I don’t want to tell you, but I know you care. So I put away my fear and let you in.
I lie on the floor. I’m here again in this deep blue ocean of depression. What set me off this time? A fight, a failed test, a break up, or maybe just a hard day? It doesn’t matter now. I am too far drowned in my own sadness. It is dark here. Lonely. I feel as if I am falling apart. I shake and cry, trying desperately to rid my self of this demon that is eating away at my soul. My breathing is shaky, but I know the signs. I know what must be done. Don’t do it again! It doesn’t have to be this way, don’t screw up anymore. You know what they’ll say. They’ll call you emo and you’ll be even more alone then you are now. It is too late for me to talk myself out of this now. The tears burn my cheeks. All I can think about is the pain that I so need.
What will be my weapon of choice tonight? My arms and legs are full of burns, another one would be too hard to hide from you. I don’t have the strength to fight with myself, so bruising is out. There is nothing left to pierce that would be out of sight of your troubled glare. My only option: the knife. Yes, the knife will satisfy my sick needs tonight, like it has so many times, on nights just like this one.
Just thinking about cutting calms me. Maybe it will be enough to numb the pain. Not at all, the cool burning of depression, anxiety and fear, still torment me from the inside. I need the blade. I stand up, open my closet door, dig for the box and grab what I know is waiting inside. The cold sharpness of the blade fits into my palm like a key fits into a lock. I can’t stand this anymore. I need to feel the bitter sweet sting of the knife.
Slowly and carefully I lift up the sleeve of my shirt to reveal row after row of all my problems disguised as deep gashes that cover my upper arm. Some are red. Some are a purplish. On some, I can still see the dried blood from the last time. Others are pale lines of wounded flesh that will never go away. Each is a story, a memory. I study the scars and cuts every night, reminiscing on painful memories. That triggers more depressing thoughts. You are worthless. Look what you do to yourself. It is sick and wrong and because of this, you‘re worthless, stupid and ugly.
This is how it always starts. With negative self images and painful memories. They are powerful triggers for my disgusting little secret. It is a cycle. A repulsive, masochistic cycle consisting of bad thoughts, triggering memories, self harming, then more negative thoughts. Stop analyzing the situation and do what you need to before you go insane! My body is shaking more violently now, and I cannot take this exhausting mental pain. It is too much.
I choose a patch of skin were I can barely see any of the faded scars. This is a place I have not gone to before, my wrist where a large vein sticks out purple against my pale skin. Sure, I had cut and bruised and burned my wrist, but never so close to this scared spot, where one wrong slice could kill me. No, I do not put myself through all this to die. I do it to feel alive when I am numb or feel numb, when my feelings are too much alive.
Slowly, I pressed the blade to my soft flesh, pushing down very lightly at first. But as I dragged the blade across my wrist in perfect parallel lines, I put all the pressure my hand can provide into those cuts.
Instantly, all the mental pain I’ve been carrying around is converted into the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt in my life. And I prefer this physical pain to the pain of the heartless depression.
One, two, three hours later, after I had been relived of all my pain and sadness, I fall into the soft cushions of my bed, breathing with a sigh of relief. The cutting has stopped, the tears have stopped, the blood is drying. But the battle against myself has been lost. I am worthless. I fall asleep feeling uneasy, but not as depressed.
I wake up in the morning feeling rather good, better then usual actually. Then I catch a glimpse of my arm. I touch the ridged, bloody slash that runs along my entire wrist and realize that I feel like shit and that gash, it is a wound of my own doing. I fight back tears of emotional and physical pain and try with all my strength to get out of bed. Maybe I should have just killed myself and escaped from this hell while I had the chance. But then I think of you and your kind words. It is enough to make me get me out of bed. I don’t even bother to do my hair or makeup this morning. I throw my hair up in a messy bun and toss a thick coat of eyeliner on. This look does well to reflect the way I am feeling. I make sure to do a careful job to clean my cut and cover it under a long black uniform oxford. But this routine is nothing new, it happens almost everyday.
So I walk into class with bags under my eyes. I avoid your stare, your concerned look. I wade through your lesson. I don’t want to look at you or meet your eye, because I know if I do, you’ll be able to tell. The bell rings and I sigh. I wince as you touch my arm and ask why. I don’t want to tell you, but I know you care. So I put away my fear and let you in. You look at me with eyes I know are hurt. In that moment I see that I need to stop and I see that you understand.
Skin Deep Secrets
I walk into class with bags under my eyes. I avoid your stare, your concerned look. I wade through your lesson. I don’t want to look at you or meet your eye, because I know if I do, you’ll be able to tell. The bell rings and I sigh. I wince as you touch my arm and ask why. I don’t want to tell you, but I know you care. So I put away my fear and let you in.
I lie on the floor. I’m here again in this deep blue ocean of depression. What set me off this time? A fight, a failed test, a break up, or maybe just a hard day? It doesn’t matter now. I am too far drowned in my own sadness. It is dark here. Lonely. I feel as if I am falling apart. I shake and cry, trying desperately to rid my self of this demon that is eating away at my soul. My breathing is shaky, but I know the signs. I know what must be done. Don’t do it again! It doesn’t have to be this way, don’t screw up anymore. You know what they’ll say. They’ll call you emo and you’ll be even more alone then you are now. It is too late for me to talk myself out of this now. The tears burn my cheeks. All I can think about is the pain that I so need.
What will be my weapon of choice tonight? My arms and legs are full of burns, another one would be too hard to hide from you. I don’t have the strength to fight with myself, so bruising is out. There is nothing left to pierce that would be out of sight of your troubled glare. My only option: the knife. Yes, the knife will satisfy my sick needs tonight, like it has so many times, on nights just like this one.
Just thinking about cutting calms me. Maybe it will be enough to numb the pain. Not at all, the cool burning of depression, anxiety and fear, still torment me from the inside. I need the blade. I stand up, open my closet door, dig for the box and grab what I know is waiting inside. The cold sharpness of the blade fits into my palm like a key fits into a lock. I can’t stand this anymore. I need to feel the bitter sweet sting of the knife.
Slowly and carefully I lift up the sleeve of my shirt to reveal row after row of all my problems disguised as deep gashes that cover my upper arm. Some are red. Some are a purplish. On some, I can still see the dried blood from the last time. Others are pale lines of wounded flesh that will never go away. Each is a story, a memory. I study the scars and cuts every night, reminiscing on painful memories. That triggers more depressing thoughts. You are worthless. Look what you do to yourself. It is sick and wrong and because of this, you‘re worthless, stupid and ugly.
This is how it always starts. With negative self images and painful memories. They are powerful triggers for my disgusting little secret. It is a cycle. A repulsive, masochistic cycle consisting of bad thoughts, triggering memories, self harming, then more negative thoughts. Stop analyzing the situation and do what you need to before you go insane! My body is shaking more violently now, and I cannot take this exhausting mental pain. It is too much.
I choose a patch of skin were I can barely see any of the faded scars. This is a place I have not gone to before, my wrist where a large vein sticks out purple against my pale skin. Sure, I had cut and bruised and burned my wrist, but never so close to this scared spot, where one wrong slice could kill me. No, I do not put myself through all this to die. I do it to feel alive when I am numb or feel numb, when my feelings are too much alive.
Slowly, I pressed the blade to my soft flesh, pushing down very lightly at first. But as I dragged the blade across my wrist in perfect parallel lines, I put all the pressure my hand can provide into those cuts.
Instantly, all the mental pain I’ve been carrying around is converted into the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt in my life. And I prefer this physical pain to the pain of the heartless depression.
One, two, three hours later, after I had been relived of all my pain and sadness, I fall into the soft cushions of my bed, breathing with a sigh of relief. The cutting has stopped, the tears have stopped, the blood is drying. But the battle against myself has been lost. I am worthless. I fall asleep feeling uneasy, but not as depressed.
I wake up in the morning feeling rather good, better then usual actually. Then I catch a glimpse of my arm. I touch the ridged, bloody slash that runs along my entire wrist and realize that I feel like shit and that gash, it is a wound of my own doing. I fight back tears of emotional and physical pain and try with all my strength to get out of bed. Maybe I should have just killed myself and escaped from this hell while I had the chance. But then I think of you and your kind words. It is enough to make me get me out of bed. I don’t even bother to do my hair or makeup this morning. I throw my hair up in a messy bun and toss a thick coat of eyeliner on. This look does well to reflect the way I am feeling. I make sure to do a careful job to clean my cut and cover it under a long black uniform oxford. But this routine is nothing new, it happens almost everyday.
So I walk into class with bags under my eyes. I avoid your stare, your concerned look. I wade through your lesson. I don’t want to look at you or meet your eye, because I know if I do, you’ll be able to tell. The bell rings and I sigh. I wince as you touch my arm and ask why. I don’t want to tell you, but I know you care. So I put away my fear and let you in. You look at me with eyes I know are hurt. In that moment I see that I need to stop and I see that you understand.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
So I once had a friend named Maya. She told me she never wanted to talk to me again, on my 16 birthday. Why? Becasue I had heard some rumors that she was in to drugs/ gang. I didn;t think she would tell me if they were true unless I lied to her because we hadn't talked for a long time and she wasn't acting like her self the last time I spoke to her.
So I asked her if she had any drugs I could buy. She said no, but told me about being on house arrest cuz of being present at a gang fight. I then told her I had lied about wanting to buy drugs, because I was worried for her.
She was pissed. I was wrong for doing what I did, but I apoligized. She said she nevr wanted to talk to me again. Today is her birthday so I decided to text her happy birthday. Here is what happened:
Me: Happy Birthday...
Maya: Thx
Me: Do mu know who this is?
Maya: uuhuu
Me: Oh okay, well i hope ur doing well and Im sorry for what happened between us.
Maya: Thanks and yeah
Me: So...how are you?
Maya: Just because you said sorry it doesn't make it better I got in a lot of trouble for that little trick you played
if you remember my trust is earned and taken away.
youve lost it and once it's gone it's gone
Me: how'd u get in trouble?!?
Maya: My messages are checked! If shit like that is on my phone I get in a lot oif trouble
Me: well its your own damn fault you told me anything, i asked you a question and u didn't HAVE to awnser, dont blame ur trouble on me.
Maya: Bitch, dont try to act cool! Hown many friends are you around now?!? seriously i thought you were a friend but guess not cuz friends don't do that! and you know whhat? you need to grow the fuck up its the real world no ones there to say oh poor you yes i fucking told you shit bcuz i use to be able to trust you...
Me: My intetions were good even if you doint beliuev me i only asked u that stuff becausze i was worried I heard some rumors and didnt think ud tell me shit unless I lied i thought u were a friend to but the day you told me you never wanted to talk to me was on my bday and it is the shittest one ive ever had I really am sorry that I did that to you i know it was stupid and bitchy i wish I had never said anything cuz although I have a ton of friends now they never went thro the shit u and I did (she use to SI too) I needed to tell you all that so maybe you wouldnt see me as such a bad person and we could end our friendship on a nice note.
Maya: guilt trips dont work on me! and not to mention the fact u never use to listen to rumors so how can I even try to believe what you are saying!?! that fact that I told you I never wanted to ttalk to u again was ur dumbass fault. im tired of dealing with the shit i do i dont need lies spread arouns and rumors from what I have heard are NOT TRUE! IDK what you heard and IU dont think ur a bad person i think that you need to not be under the constant influnce of your friends (she thinks the whole drug think was a prank I pulled with one of my friends, which it wasn't) think for yourself and life will get easier...
Me: im not trying to guilt trip you and ya I never lietened to rumors, ik i still dont but i didnt know what to believe because I hadnt talked to you 4ever and u hadn't been ur self it had nothing to do with my friends i think for myself more then u can imagine...
Maya: R (her friend) thinks your funny?
Me: Okay?
Maya: In other words R who believes and trusts most ppl doesnt trust u! so im done w/ this don't reply.
(who is under her friends influnce?????? UMMM it looks like u are, I am thinking this now as i write)
Me: fine idc if R trusts me, idc if u trust me it doesnt matter that u never want to talk to me again im never gunna forget u either way i wanted to make up w/ u so that i would think of u in a good way but fine im sorry, again :(
R texts me!
R: i think ur an ass-kissing bitch that is uglier then the bottom of my foot fuck u cuz nobody will and leave my girlfriend (IDK if there dating or just friends, I thought maya was straight) alone get over the fact that she is better off w/out you
I think Im better off w/ out her because what she saying is some of the meanest things anyone has said to me. I cried after this. She was my bf for 3year she knew every thing about me she understood me. we were so much alike. SHE BROKE MY HEART because I loved her like a sister. She is the only one I have ever ever been able to rlly open up with. In my year book she wrote that where ever we go in life I would always be in her heart, but I guess not. I know she'll be in mine although she hurt me because before that she healed me, and I cant ever forget my first real best friend. I have plenty of friends and a best friend in this point at my life, so I am just trying to forget about her. But she'll always be in the back of my mind.
The things she said realy hurt me and I dont think ll ever be able to forgive her, but I don't think Ill ever for get she was my friend
" I always thought we'd look back on our tears and laugh, but I never thought I'd look back on our laughter and cry. I trusted you with everything, my heart, my feelings, my dreams, snd my fears. I know I did something wrong to you, but you did something wrong to me. The things you said I'll always remember. The scars run deep, but I still care. You were my friend"
I wish I could say that to her...
So I asked her if she had any drugs I could buy. She said no, but told me about being on house arrest cuz of being present at a gang fight. I then told her I had lied about wanting to buy drugs, because I was worried for her.
She was pissed. I was wrong for doing what I did, but I apoligized. She said she nevr wanted to talk to me again. Today is her birthday so I decided to text her happy birthday. Here is what happened:
Me: Happy Birthday...
Maya: Thx
Me: Do mu know who this is?
Maya: uuhuu
Me: Oh okay, well i hope ur doing well and Im sorry for what happened between us.
Maya: Thanks and yeah
Me: So...how are you?
Maya: Just because you said sorry it doesn't make it better I got in a lot of trouble for that little trick you played
if you remember my trust is earned and taken away.
youve lost it and once it's gone it's gone
Me: how'd u get in trouble?!?
Maya: My messages are checked! If shit like that is on my phone I get in a lot oif trouble
Me: well its your own damn fault you told me anything, i asked you a question and u didn't HAVE to awnser, dont blame ur trouble on me.
Maya: Bitch, dont try to act cool! Hown many friends are you around now?!? seriously i thought you were a friend but guess not cuz friends don't do that! and you know whhat? you need to grow the fuck up its the real world no ones there to say oh poor you yes i fucking told you shit bcuz i use to be able to trust you...
Me: My intetions were good even if you doint beliuev me i only asked u that stuff becausze i was worried I heard some rumors and didnt think ud tell me shit unless I lied i thought u were a friend to but the day you told me you never wanted to talk to me was on my bday and it is the shittest one ive ever had I really am sorry that I did that to you i know it was stupid and bitchy i wish I had never said anything cuz although I have a ton of friends now they never went thro the shit u and I did (she use to SI too) I needed to tell you all that so maybe you wouldnt see me as such a bad person and we could end our friendship on a nice note.
Maya: guilt trips dont work on me! and not to mention the fact u never use to listen to rumors so how can I even try to believe what you are saying!?! that fact that I told you I never wanted to ttalk to u again was ur dumbass fault. im tired of dealing with the shit i do i dont need lies spread arouns and rumors from what I have heard are NOT TRUE! IDK what you heard and IU dont think ur a bad person i think that you need to not be under the constant influnce of your friends (she thinks the whole drug think was a prank I pulled with one of my friends, which it wasn't) think for yourself and life will get easier...
Me: im not trying to guilt trip you and ya I never lietened to rumors, ik i still dont but i didnt know what to believe because I hadnt talked to you 4ever and u hadn't been ur self it had nothing to do with my friends i think for myself more then u can imagine...
Maya: R (her friend) thinks your funny?
Me: Okay?
Maya: In other words R who believes and trusts most ppl doesnt trust u! so im done w/ this don't reply.
(who is under her friends influnce?????? UMMM it looks like u are, I am thinking this now as i write)
Me: fine idc if R trusts me, idc if u trust me it doesnt matter that u never want to talk to me again im never gunna forget u either way i wanted to make up w/ u so that i would think of u in a good way but fine im sorry, again :(
R texts me!
R: i think ur an ass-kissing bitch that is uglier then the bottom of my foot fuck u cuz nobody will and leave my girlfriend (IDK if there dating or just friends, I thought maya was straight) alone get over the fact that she is better off w/out you
I think Im better off w/ out her because what she saying is some of the meanest things anyone has said to me. I cried after this. She was my bf for 3year she knew every thing about me she understood me. we were so much alike. SHE BROKE MY HEART because I loved her like a sister. She is the only one I have ever ever been able to rlly open up with. In my year book she wrote that where ever we go in life I would always be in her heart, but I guess not. I know she'll be in mine although she hurt me because before that she healed me, and I cant ever forget my first real best friend. I have plenty of friends and a best friend in this point at my life, so I am just trying to forget about her. But she'll always be in the back of my mind.
The things she said realy hurt me and I dont think ll ever be able to forgive her, but I don't think Ill ever for get she was my friend
" I always thought we'd look back on our tears and laugh, but I never thought I'd look back on our laughter and cry. I trusted you with everything, my heart, my feelings, my dreams, snd my fears. I know I did something wrong to you, but you did something wrong to me. The things you said I'll always remember. The scars run deep, but I still care. You were my friend"
I wish I could say that to her...
Monday, May 3, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Its been a while I know. Im so busy. Too busy. I have gone almost a year w/o self harming. I still us a rubber band, but I never bleed. But my scars remind me every fucking day of my past. And they will never go away. EVER. in a way thats good so I will be reminded about how bad my self harm was, so I will never want to do it again. But then again, they remind me of so many painful memories that make me want to cry.
SOMETIMES I JUST WANT TO SCREAM TO THE WORLD "LOOK AT MY SCARS! LOOK AT WHAT I DID TO MYSELF" SO THAT NO EVER HAS TO GO THROUGH THE AGONY OF SELF HARM.
SOMETIMES I JUST WANT TO SCREAM TO THE WORLD "LOOK AT MY SCARS! LOOK AT WHAT I DID TO MYSELF" SO THAT NO EVER HAS TO GO THROUGH THE AGONY OF SELF HARM.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The last post was just a quickie to let you know I am alive. I've been very tired a busy lately. I haven't gone to thearpy in forever and I was off my meds for over a month. That was stupid. It didn't effect me to much untill the end and then I got really bitchy and sad. Now I'm back on the damn zoloft and I feel worse then before. SO many headaches. I really should go back to thereapy and to see my pshychologist, but I really don't want to. I fell like it wont help., lke it never will. I feel okay now, not to high and not to low. But then I swing to too low, but uually that doesn't last to long. That is going to be my life and I am just going to have to deal with it because I don't want to see a doctr anymore, they just make me feel worthless and stupid...
I haven't SI'ed for 226 days! I have thought about numerous times, but I didn't. I don't know how I did that. I just thought about my friends. I have made so many good friends this year who have helped me so much and I love them.
More later
NADIA
I haven't SI'ed for 226 days! I have thought about numerous times, but I didn't. I don't know how I did that. I just thought about my friends. I have made so many good friends this year who have helped me so much and I love them.
More later
NADIA
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
I dont know if I've mentioned that I'm adopted, but I am. 14 years ago from a small town in russia. Yesterday, very randomly, I posted somethings about my birth mother in a people search fourm on my birthtowns website. And I got a response. I never thought i would, but i did within 24 hours. I had an adress and a phone number, and I really think this is her. I don't know what to do. I haven't told anybody. I am scared and confused, but excited. ANy advice?
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