♫♪No, I won't give up♪♫

The past few days have been days of reflection. You know how it is when you're just sick and tired of being sick and tired? That's me right now. I'm just so done with being sad and weepy! I think that if it wasn't for theatre or for Jes, I may not be turning to the positives right now.

The other night when Jessica came over, we went to McDonalds to get fries and then hit QT to get sodas. After that, we headed up to the park by SCC and just ate and talked under the pavilion. It was one of those quality nights where we talked about our lives and about being different from the people around us, which is usually where our conversations regularly go anyway. But it was interesting the way we talked about moving on in life and about believing that our souls live on even though our bodies don't. I never used to believe in past lives and living as different people because I always thought that you'd be able to remember if you were someone else. But the more I learn about it, the more it all makes sense. Jes told me that in each life, karma teaches us different lessons, and I think that right now, my biggest lesson to learn is patience. She also told me that from what she learned, the reason why we can't remember our past lives is because (if I remember correctly) we meet so many people that it would be like information overload. But we tend to meet people that are more familiar to us because we knew their souls in a past life. I told her how my life just seems frustrating right now because there are a lot of people who frustrate me. They don't seem to click like I do as far as thoughts go, and reasons for why things happen. I have the feeling that I'm an old soul that doesn't understand all these new souls, and so our ways of thinking are very different.

In the musical, I feel like the character I can connect to the most is Madame Armfeldt. She has a very strong mindset and sees the fools as they really are. Their conversations at dinner don't really interest her because it's everyone wanting to sound smart and witty and brilliant all at one time, so she just zones out. I feel like I do that a lot of the time, especially in a classroom setting. The conversations around me are so uninteresting that I wonder how they can stand talking about it. It just occurred to me that the reason why I was shy and quiet in high school may not have been because I was odd and scarred at all, but because the conversations that my classmates had didn't interest me in the least bit. I know that by senior year, when I realized I was an empath, I would sit through some classes and think, My God, get me out of here. I am surrounded by babbling idiots. I didn't care who was throwing the party or who got drunk or who slept with who. I didn't care what kind of cigarettes everyone smoked or why her boyfriend was such a jerk for God only knows what small, insignificant thing the poor guy didn't do to make her happy. In fact, if a person talked about that stuff, I would lose the interest to be friends with that person at all. I needed stimulating conversation that was thoughtful and analytic, and at times, non-understandable, but engaging all the same.

I know it's only been a week since I've been lost in myself, but it has been a very good week after getting through the breaking points. I'm reaching that point of acceptance once again, feeling as though things are what they're going to be. I don't have control over what has happened and what is to come, and all I can do is be graceful about it and greet it as it may arrive. Last night was one of those nights where, although I was bored to tears and tired, I realized that being in theatre really does make me happy. There are those who do frustrate me when I'm there sometimes, but I'm learning to shrug it off and to keep having fun with it. It's one of those volunteer jobs where I get to do a useful job and be good at it, but I can also have my immature, childish moments and laugh about them with my friends. I've already made a few inside jokes with some of the "technicians" helping me, and I've gotten kiss attacked by Britney several times. Carl even gave me a braid last night using my bangs, and I absolutely loved it! I'm starting to think that even though I have people who are walking out of my life, I have new people who are going to be just as great, if not greater, than my past friends. We're all starting to reach those cross roads, and it makes sense that we're going to have to branch off in different directions to achieve what we want. I'm beginning to really take a look around and appreciate the people I'm meeting. I'm glad that I'm surrounded by people who care about me so much, and I'm one lucky girl to be able to meet them. I jumped into theatre not knowing what would be in store for me, and now, I'm glad that I did. It makes me want to jump more often just to see where I'll end up, even if it is a little scary at first.

Well, I'm getting really sleepy now. My eyes are getting heavier with each word I type, but I have a smile on my face because I know things will be okay. I have my family, friends, music, and most of all, love and acceptance. I'm in a good place, and I'm finally believing that I can accomplish whatever I want as long as I'm brave enough to pursue it. I keep telling myself to be patient, because I know there's something I'm waiting for. No need in rushing it, because I want to enjoy the ride.


Also, please take some time to enjoy this song (: It makes me happy!

Finding myself through fictional characters.

It is once again the wee hours of the morning... a morning where I should be asleep, dreaming of shit. Not literally, but you know what I mean. However, when I slept yesterday, I remembered a few dreams that I wasn't very fond of. So here I am. Not dreaming. Haha.

I know that my past few blogs haven't been very cheery. But tonight, I don't feel depressed. I feel neutral. I think that because I decided to pull my story up and start writing again, I'm actually going through some therapy right now. My characters are so messed up, and when I write about them, I'm taking all of my frustration out on them. There was also a moment tonight where I looked at the closing sentence for one of my characters, and I thought to myself, six pages doesn't seem very long for a chapter. But the more I read through it, the more I thought, if I add anything else, it'll ruin it. So I settled for a chapter consisting of six pages and thought, what now? I began to really ask myself what was going to happen next, and what should happen next. Then I realized that there was one character I had been completely ignoring all this time. You see, when I made my eight characters, one of them was a cutter. I decided early on that he needed a younger brother who was growing up just as broken as he was, all innocence lost. At that time, he was just a brother, and I asked myself, "How is he going to play out in this story at all?" And then, one day, I realized that I was stuck. There was a huge gap between the beginning and the climax, and so I shoved the story aside. When I finally pulled it out about two weeks ago, I thought, go out of order. Something is bound to hit you. So I started writing what I knew I wanted in the story for sure. Of course, the idea hit me out of the blue, and now I know how this entire thing is going to play out. So tonight, when I was asking myself what the next step would be, I realized that I actually have nine characters. The young brother of this cutter needs a chapter of his own; a focus of his own. Sure, the teenagers in this story are important for our generation, but I think the reason why I decided a young boy needed to be added early on is because I need someone to represent how scary it is for children to grow up, especially when they have to go through tough situations that no child should ever have to go through.

It's really difficult for me to get into the mind of this little boy. Although I had grown up being the weird, awkward, bullied kid, I always had a great home life. And now I have to pity this young boy, and love him, and figure out what in the hell he's going through both mentally and emotionally. Maybe that's why I'm feeling neutral now. I'm trying to figure things out for myself through this character, and I don't seem to have it all together yet. I'm hoping that after I spend some time with him, I can finally get things down the way I'm trying to make sense of them in my head.

I learn a lot about myself through the people I create. I may not always understand their actions, but I understand where they're coming from. It's a constant game of asking, answering, deleting, asking, answering, and moving on. I have to be careful not to allow my characters to run together, because the whole point of this book is to express exactly how different they all are from each other, but to see that the reasons for their differences are ultimately the same. It's not a story that makes complete sense to me right now, and it's not something that's going to be written quickly. I know there are still characters that I have to work on and spend some time with. Once I do that, and once I complete this thing, I'm really hoping that I have a huge audience who can relate to everything these people are going through. I'm trying to make it so that each person who reads this book can attach themselves to a certain character and say, "That's me," while at the same time, loving all the other characters they read about.

I think writing is something I need to be focusing on now. Maybe I'll feel less confused this way and make more sense of who I am and what I'm going through, but through other people. It's a joy all of its own, and I'm surprised my mind is able to handle everything I want to express by giving these characters life and making them who they are.

They will all come out stronger than they expected, just as I do. It's going to be beautiful.

Honesty Hour

I'm trying to get my head screwed on straight. It's that ungodly time of the morning where I'm really thinking to myself about who I am, and where I am, and if I'm truly happy. Six hours ago, I was driving home from theatre, still laughing about what Carl had said about my peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. "We'll just get there early tomorrow and eat them and then chew some gum. I don't think we'll be kissing any of the actors, but you can never be too sure." And then, when we were in practice, I kept looking at Jim and Carl, and at the actors going and coming off stage, and I thought to myself several times, "I'm so glad I'm here. These people are my friends, and we're enjoying this time together. We're all happy, and I love this. I don't want it to stop." But when it gets to be this time, and I'm sitting up by myself thinking about my life, it's hard to really feel that kind of happiness again.

I broke down again yesterday morning. I let myself hurt and feel the pain, and then I felt numb again. So I got up and walked around, and I looked at old pictures and laughed and smiled. Then I realized I'm here in the present, where everything seems so messy and complicated right now, and nothing really feels like it's going to be okay. But I know that it will. Change isn't supposed to be an easy thing to accept, especially when you're being forced to. I just have a few things bothering me right now. And I think that in order to feel better about them, I need to talk about them.

First, I don't think I'm ever going to be able to fall in love again. I know it sounds silly coming from someone who is nearing the early age of twenty, but it's something that I'm scared of. For a long time, I never understood why I was so scared to go out with guys. If any guy ever showed the slightest interest in me, I would go running in the other direction until I couldn't see them anymore. And the few guys who I have actually considered dating haven't worked out in my favor. I don't mean to say that they're bad people, because they aren't. But sometimes things just don't want to go the way you want them to. It's hard for me to accept, and I think that's one reason why I'm feeling lost right now. I get attached to the wrong people and at the worst times. And, after giving it a lot of thought, I finally am realizing why I can't ever bring myself to jump into a relationship and just give it a try. I'm so scared that I'm not going to be able to love that person as much as he loves me. I know what it's like to be in love, when you want to go to the ends of the earth for that person, jump through rings of fire, and stick your head inside of a lion's mouth if it means they're going to be safe for the rest of their lives. I know what it's like to want them to want you in the way that you want them, and for them to care for you the way you care about them. When you love someone so much that you know you would gladly volunteer death to keep them alive, it suddenly becomes scary to think about being with anyone else, because you might let them down, and hurt them like someone else has hurt you. And that's why I'm so convinced that I'm going to be alone, and it sucks. I don't like to think about it because I feel even more lonely than I normally do.

I'm also struggling with relationships in general. There are a lot of people who I never see anymore, and there are a lot of people who have used me and hurt me and knew that they were doing it. Because of that, I feel like I can't trust anyone anymore. People who I used to depend on and talk to aren't around to listen, and the only people I can talk to always want me to cheer up. Be positive. Don't be sad. Life is good. You'll be okay. But what can I do when the only thing that I'm not feeling is positive, or happy, or okay? What can I do when, internally, I'm falling to pieces, and can't tell anybody because I know they're just going to tell me happy things that I'd rather not hear? Where are my friends who would sit and listen to me and just let me cry and break down? The people who may not have had the best advice, but had the best shoulders to cry on? I used to have a best friend who I could tell anything and everything to in confidence, and who I could be weak around, and he would hold me together and just let me go through what I had to go through while offering comfort. But as of recent, I just can't depend on him anymore. He helped break me even more than he probably thinks he did, and now, all I can do is cry alone, and keep everything bottled up because there's no one to spill it to. People are ignoring me or pushing me off to the side, and it honestly hurts. It hurts to know that so many of my friends are hummingbirds that only come for the nectar and leave when they've had their fill. Sometimes, I just wish someone could hold me again. Hold me in their arms and pet my hair or dry my tears and tell me that it's okay to fall apart; that I don't always have to be strong. But sometimes, I feel like that's all I ever can be now. Weakness is taboo in our society. We're expected to do so much and be unaffected by things that are out of our control. If we can't control it, why be upset over it? But you know what? I can't control it, and that's what upsets me. I can't fix it, or change it, or make it come out in my favor. Things are as they are, and if people don't want you anymore, you can't do anything about it.

I keep wondering when things are going to get better. I don't want new people. I want old people and old times and memories. I want old feelings back. The security of having people to trust 100% about things that, at that point in time, seem so silly and unimportant. A new zit, or a pair of amazing shoes that won't fit, or a homework assignment you forgot to do that was worth only 1% of your grade. Where did those days go? And who in the hell replaced them with this spider web of a life? Who thought it would be fun to watch me crumble and fall into depression, and who decided that my love was something they could play with until it became so involved and twisted that there was no easy way of pulling away? I'm so tired of being toyed with, used, and recycled by so many people. I'm starting to build up walls that I've never had to build before, and it just really sucks, because I want people to be happy, and I just want the same in return. I want to be loved unconditionally and to be cherished. I want to be needed. But I also need people when I fall down and have trouble getting up. Where are my friends when I fall down?

I have a lot of trust issues going on right now, and I keep asking myself what's in this world for me. Sure, my purpose seems to be loving people and volunteering my time to keep them happy and to keep myself happy, but what happens when all those people disappear and I'm left here alone? What's in this world for me? Right now, I have no idea what to do, how to think or feel, and I'm starting to sink again.

The real friends that I have right now are few, and I know they have things on their minds too, just like me. But I wish for just one moment, one of them would take the time to sit down and say, "What's wrong? And don't say, 'nothing'."

To the three people who I've recently talked to about stuff on my mind, thank you for listening. And to the one who is going through a tough time just like me, thank you for taking the time to understand and connect with me on a level that no one else can seem to do right now.


As of now, I feel numb. It's nearing that time where I normally reach a breaking point, but I just don't want to cry anymore. It's silly to cry over things you can't control, but as taboo as this is in our forever rushing society right now, I want to slow down and acknowledge that it's okay to hurt over people and over feelings. Things are changing fast, and sometimes all that we can do when we fail to grasp it, is cry over it.


Is there anyone out there who understands?

Too Much to Handle

At this point in my life, it feels like there are a lot of changes going on that I can't really get a grip on. Relationships with my friends aren't the same. I'm finding it really hard to trust anyone anymore. And I feel like now, when I do happen to fall to pieces and break down, there is no one there to hold me together while I cry. The other night, I just let myself break down, and I let myself hurt because I think I needed to let it run its course. I'm so busy trying to be the strong one all the time and hold it all together, but whenever I do start to give way and crumble, I'm almost embarrassed for anyone to see me lose it. All day yesterday I felt like I was wearing a mask. My smile was difficult to hold, and there were times that made it hard for me to swallow, as though a lump was forming in my throat. Things, for me, are starting to shut down emotionally, and for awhile early yesterday morning, all I felt was numbness. I closed my eyes a few times and thought, I'm alive, but I'm sitting so still... so still, that in a way, I feel dead. The only thing that made me sure I was sitting there on the floor was the fact that I was breathing. And then I felt the tears coming. So many bottled up emotions that I have been shoving to the back of my head; things that I needed so desperately to accept. But accepting where I am now and how I'm feeling now is hurting me. And the worst part is that I can't do anything about it, because it's life. It's something out of my control, and there's really nothing to do but come to terms with it, shake hands with it, and keep moving forward. Being strong is the most difficult thing for me to do right now, and I feel like each smile and each laugh is a lie when there's so much lying under the surface.

It's ironic, to me, how I haven't really done anything wrong to myself or wrong to other people, and yet, I get wounded the most. People say I'm a good person and that I have a huge heart. They say I really do care and that I deserve the best. But in reality, the good don't really get rewarded because they see the pain and they feel the pain, and they force themselves to smile through it and believe that everything is going to be okay. But things just keep caving in on them. That's my life right now. I know that I've excelled in a lot and accomplished so much already. I know that right now, my body is physically in a good place. But spiritually, I'm falling apart, and there's nothing that can fix that. When you get hurt emotionally, you can't wrap it up or put a bandage on it so that it will heal. And so many people think that drugs and medicine can fix that, but the truth is, it only numbs it for a period of time. I'd rather feel than be numb because I have my mind with me. I think clearly. I feel more real.

I think that the best lie known to man is, "I'm fine." So often people have asked me, "Are you feeling okay?" and I would look up at them and say, "Yeah. I'm fine." But honestly, more than half the time I say that, I have something bothering me; something haunting me. And I hate to show that side of me to people because I feel like if I'm not okay, than neither are they. I hate being worried over, but there's so many layers of broken glass inside of me that sometimes I wish there was someone to worry. Yesterday morning, when I was sitting on the ground thinking about how I felt emotionally, I just wanted to scream at someone. I wanted to throw a temper tantrum and break something and blame the world for hating me. I just can't deal with change. I can't deal with where I am in my life and I feel like everything is slipping through my fingers too fast and all at once.

I know that things are going to get better and that this is just a phase that I need to go through. But I just wish it didn't feel like I was falling into a never ending pit. I used to never understand love songs and depression songs, and about things being "complicated" when all I could see in front of me was a bright sun and wild flowers, and someone who accepted me and wanted to spend their time with me. But now, I just feel like I'm looking for more, like there's some greater happiness waiting for me and I can't get to the point where I can reach it. I keep messing up and going down the wrong paths, and right now, it just feels like nothing is going to be okay. Sure, I can keep smiling and laughing and being positive and zany and fun, but when it comes down to it, sometimes I just feel so alone, like no one really understands. And it hurts.

I love my friends and my family so much. I cherish the memories I'm making with them, and I'm glad that there are things in my life that can make me smile and appreciate living. But there are also feelings that I can't control, and right now, I'm really suffering.

Someday I'll be in a good place again. But right now, things are looking down.

Cutting it close.

My teacher, Professor Norris, told my class one day that creativity always seems to strike in the wee hours of the morning. For me, it is one of those mornings. But I would not be writing this if I had not read a story from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Tough Times for Teens. It was about a girl who used to suffer from depression, and the only thing that ever made her feel like she was a good person was putting everyone else and their needs before herself. So she would cut herself to try to cut the frustration out of her life. Somewhere along the way, she began to write, which ultimately saved her. Another part of her recovery was meeting a boy who she started going out with, and who didn't judge her for her scars. Instead, he helped her see that her generosity was a good thing, but helped her practice saying "no" and to not feel bad when she couldn't help people through their problems. They ended up breaking it off, but she continued to write like crazy, and she never went back to cutting again. It really struck a chord with me, because had I not started writing my seventh grade year, I might have suffered the same fate.

It's hard for me to imagine cutting myself. I don't think I could bring harm to my body like that. But I have felt depressed enough to where I'd start warming up to the idea, imagining what it would be like... how the blade would feel against my skin. Relief. Those kinds of thoughts were scary to have when I'd snap out of it and realize what I was thinking about doing. I even thought a couple times, I have a blade I can use. But somehow, I'd be able to shy away from it; to tell myself no. I'd write instead. Writing was relief. It didn't always fix my problems, but it told people what I was going through and how I was feeling. I didn't feel as though I was crying out for help, but rather, that I was telling people my story.

I don't consider my life tragic enough to resort to smoking, drug use, or drinking. There are people out there who suffer far worse than I do. My life, when I think about it, is pretty sweet. I've had a poem published, dived into theatre with very little experience at all, received my license, and I've finally been recognized instead of being the invisible girl. This has happened over the course of an entire year, and I love how things are turning out for me. But there are conflicting thoughts and emotions that I shove to the back of my head. They aren't important enough to pay attention to when I have a million other things on my mind, but there are those rare times where I have nothing to do, so I start to think. Thinking always causes things to resurface, and a million voices talk at once, all wanting me to hear them. Those are the times  when I begin to sink. I can feel myself going down, down, and still further down, until depression cuddles up to me and starts whispering things in my ears. But I always fight it. I fight it hard, no matter how horrible I feel.

I've heard it said that writing is the best mind trip, and I consider that to be truer than truth can be. No matter how I'm feeling, what I'm thinking, or what I'm doing, I know that I can always write out what's bothering me. I write poems, the occasional short stories, and song lyrics every now and then just to clear my mind of its negativity. It's how I deal with people and with myself, and like I said, if I had not started writing in 7th grade, I might not be in a very good place right now. Who knows? I could be smoking, cutting, or starving myself. I could be invisible to everyone, sitting alone and letting vicious thoughts attack me. I could be in rehab or medicated. There's an endless amount of possibilities. But... God, to write... it's the most comforting thing. Letters. Words. Punctuation and grammar. Spelling. Imagination. Passion. Emotions running wild, just waiting to be felt. A voice waiting to be heard. A blank page just waiting to be written on. I love it so much.

I think the reason why I haven't minded being single my entire life, or why I haven't minded missing out on all the normal shit that teenagers do (such as partying, drinking, etc.), is because I know there's something that is better than that; something that is always going to aid me when I'm feeling down; something to break my fall. I don't think I ever hit rock bottom without words there to cushion me, and I'm thankful for that. Writing makes this life worth living. The people may come and go. The opportunities may pass by. The right moment may never come. But no matter what, I know that there will always be someone reading my story, and that is enough for this heart to continue beating.

As long as there's a good book to read, a plate of fresh cookies to eat on a bad day, a warm bed waiting to be slept on, a family to love you, and someone there to love, life isn't so bad.

Magazines listening to the members of society?

Tonight, while skimming through articles on Yahoo!, which I love to do when I get bored, I found an article that caught my eye. It was titled "Teenage Girl Wins Victory in Seventeen Photo Retouch Battle" <--Click! This particular article told the story of a fourteen year old girl who created a petition for Seventeen Magazine to feature one completely un-retouched photo spread a month, and it received 84,000 signatures, which is pretty spectacular! Seventeen Magazine then called the girl in to talk to her, and signed a Body Peace Treaty that pledged to "never change girls' body or face shapes" and use images of "real girls and models who are healthy." One of the comments under the article pointed out that although they signed this treaty, it did not say that they would stop using photoshop to fix blemishes, eye bags, skin tones, etc. This is true, but I think that it is definitely a step up. Altering appearance based on skin tone and hair color and retouches may change the image somewhat, but at least there's a better idea of what a person may really look like.

I was reading in another article at one point in time that photoshop used to be strictly for magazines and professional photos, and now anyone can get their hands on a photo application, even the free ones online, and change their appearances. Because of these applications, we never truly know what a person may look like online. I, for one, only use these photo editing tools when someone asks me to do a photography job for a special occasion, and sometimes I take pictures of myself and edit them when I get bored. But for the most part, I've shied away from fixing blemishes and marks and eye bags. I want people to see me for who I am. Of course, when I was younger, it was the exact opposite. Whenever I took a picture, I couldn't help but edit it. I had a very low self-esteem because I could never see myself as beautiful or gorgeous. I would consider myself an ugly duckling and leave it at that, and a lot of the time, I tried not to think about how I was appearing to people. I even wore makeup to fix my skin complexion because I was self-conscious. But then, one fine day on Formspring (chyeah, that question site that was really popular for about a year), I received an anonymous wake up call saying that I couldn't ever post a non-edited picture of myself. To fight back, I took my edited picture off and put the original up. It killed me, but I did it. Whoever left the message got pissed at me, which ended up being kind of funny, but at that point, I realized I could be real. I stopped going on Formspring because of the online bullying and stabs toward my appearance, and life got better. I got better.

Teenage years are very awkward. Trust me, we all go through it. I had three years of awkward going on before I started to balance out. Even the models in the magazines went through awkward stages, and magazines that display those beautiful, skinny, flawless girls are poison to take time to look through. I've finally reached the point of being okay with myself, and because of that, I finally feel beautiful. Sure, some days I look in the mirror and don't like what I see. I still struggle with my body image, skin flaws, and my crazy, poofy hair. But I refuse to wear anything that is not eye makeup, and I refuse to photoshop my pictures unless it is out of complete boredom and those pictures are clearly labeled "edited" or are in an "edited" album. I've definitely become more accepting of myself, and even though sometimes I wish I could lose weight, I know that being super skinny is not what defines beauty. It's the light in your eyes, the confidence to be yourself, and knowing that no matter what anyone thinks, there is at least one person out there who says different. I'm blessed to have friends that remind me I am a beautiful woman, even on the days where I think I am the ugliest person alive. I will always fight the edited, photoshopped beauty, because that beauty is not what defines a gorgeous woman. A gorgeous woman has a strong heart, sharp mind, and the ability to see past this world and all of its judgmental glory. There is beauty in everything and in everyone, and I guarantee you that as long as you take the time to get to know it and give it a chance, that beauty will shine through. So live your life and have fun, and don't let photoshopped magazines tell you otherwise.

Editing can be beautiful...

But so can being yourself.

And for all girls and guys out there who are struggling,

just remember...