Sunday, November 30, 2008

I feel lost a lot.
A lot of the time, it feels like things are going good, I feel like I can maybe handle life. Then it just crashes, and I don't know why. I take my medicine. The same self-loathing thoughts keep playing in my head, they've been there all my life. I want them to go away and I don't know why I am the way I am. I don't know why I react to things the way I do, why I can't handle interaction with other people. I hate being alone and I love it. There's certain people that I like to be around.. but when faced with the option of being around a majority of the population I feel that I just want to close my door and be left alone.
I'm so tired, but it never really slows down, just keeps dragging on.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Lost

Sometimes at work I get lost in my thoughts.
My thoughts were very troubled last night, I relived when I first began to understand my brother's heroin addiction.
I remembered the night that he ran away, and it's amazing the detail with which I can recall it.
Sitting in the living room, listening to him and my parents arguing in the kitchen. My father had flushed the heroin he'd found, and my brother yelling that it wasn't his and that he owed it to someone. My father tried to give him money to pay the guy back, but he refused to take his father's money for drugs. I remember him walking out of the kitchen, I remember that he didn't look at me or pause. I remember the exact coat he was wearing.
I remember sitting in the cafeteria in 5th grade, not speaking, just sitting there wishing someone would talk to me about it. I didn't know who to reach out to, how do you tell a 5th grader that you're scared to death for your brother's life? Sitting there watching them talk and laugh and wondering if I could ever feel happy again.
It was near a holiday, and I was in the car with my mother on the way home from school, and I asked if she thought he would send me a card. She said no, because he didn't love us anymore. She said that was why he left.
I remember the day he came back, how he had done something mean, and I had considered telling my parents, but decided against it. I'm glad that I didn't, didn't ruin the last day I had with him.
Sitting in my room that night, playing an online game and chatting, at 1:30 AM. Going to get a drink, and noticing that my brother didn't come into the hallway when my door opened. The way that the air circulation worked, his door rattled everytime mine opened. Thinking it was odd, wondering if he was okay, and then thinking I should just be glad he wasn't making fun of me. Going to bed to be woken up two hours later.
Walking through the living room and seeing EMS people standing in his door way, and more in the living room, with police, and firemen. Asking my dad over and over "What happened dad?" and seeing them look at me. Knowing now what the look in their eyes meant, watching a little girl being led away to be told that her brother had died.
I was awake and 20 feet away the night my brother died. He was choking to death on his own vomit while I walked into the kitchen to get a drink. I wonder why life does these things to us, why they happen.
It's a thought that still haunts me to this day, everytime someone doesn't answer their phone. That someone you love can be 20 feet away dying and you just don't know. No alarm goes off, no extraordinary sense that something terrible is happening. You're just standing at work or laughing with your friends while it's happening and you just don't know. It can be happening at any moment, right now.
I lost the illusion and safety and certainty 5 days before my 14th birthday.
I still miss Tyler, and I think I always will.
I wonder what he would be doing now, had he lived.. I wonder what it would be like to have him there when I was said, and needed someone to talk to.
But then I know, I learned a year ago something that had never been told to me. Maybe it just seemed insignificant at the time, and it's not the kind of thing you just say.
When my brother was released from jail, well really the reason he was in jail. He had been arrested with a felony amount of LSD. It changed all my thoughts, I fully believe now that there is a very good chance he was trying to kill himself. Had he lived, he'd probably be in prison right now.
It all goes back to her, I know it does. She made us miserable, she left us no way out. She ruined so much.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

During my job, I have discovered some rather disgusting aspects of drink dispensing machines. It made me think, if this is build up I find occurring with weekly cleaning, what are the other machines like? Machines at stores or restaurants that don't take apart each machine every week and deep clean it. It's amazing, every soda or slushy or even margarita could contain mold or the sludge-like goo that many frozen drinks seem to produce. How many of these things have I consumed in my life?
I find this to be a testament to life. I was going to say the human body, but then I thought animals endure it too! We can put the most horrible things in our body, and because it is a living thing it can take them apart and get nutrition what nutrition there is from it.
My hat is off to that, it amazes me.

Monday, September 17, 2007

When I was younger, I used to get really afraid of some things. If my cat came in the room, suddenly I'd feel like she was going to hurt me. I'd watch her constantly.. when I tried to look away I'd be too overwhelmed by fear and just keep staring.
I was reminded of that tonight when I kept getting his creepy feeling that a dog in an ad was staring at me. After a bit I covered it up and then considering burning the dog out of the picture with a lighter, so I could know it was really gone.
I wonder if that's how paranoid schizophrenics feel? Not to suggest that I am in any way, but that slight impulse of terrified paranoia I get sometimes.. maybe it's similar to that?

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

I tried it, I fucking tried it.
I held back the anger and the screaming and I bit my tongue and tried to be calm and not freak out and iI just can't fucking do it.
Always ends the same way..
Again and again

Friday, November 10, 2006

meow

http://insertcandidatesnamehere.ytmnd.com/

Monday, November 06, 2006

It's creeping back

The depression, it always comes back.. the crying.. the screaming.. the cutting..
More and more frequent. I think it's just getting worse and worse each time... building and building until i just can't fucking take it anymore.
I don't want to live anymore.