Quick Goodbye

Hey, just letting you know that this will probably going to be my last blog, because someone told me I can’t blog about my life anymore. So I’ll leave this up for about 2 weeks, then delete all of my blogs, and maybe my account with it. So, goodbye.

12-3-11

I have decided to write a blog, hopefully everyday, with the day at the title, and just talk about how my day was, what I’m thinking, what I ate, ect.

I have decided doing this because a lot of my blogs have a title, but only one maybe two paragraphs have to do with that topic, and the rest is just rambling.

Probably the thing most that people are confused about is why I do starve myself. People have been commenting on my blogs and stuff saying that starving myself is not the way to lose weight. But let me tell ‘ya, it’s not only the losing weight part is why I do starve myself, there are many different reasons why I do it. The loosing weight part is just a plus. But I also starve myself because I don’t think that I deserve to eat, a lot of people have gone through just to take it to my plate, from the place they make it, to the shipping, to the putting it on the shelves, and to the cooking, and then too my plate, just too much work just to put something in my stomach, might as well throw it away in the garbage, because I really do truly believe that I’m a waste of space.

Okay, so now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I hope people will understand now that I am not only starving myself for the weight, but also because I just don’t think that I deserve it.

I’m confused. Because up at the voting thing up there, it says that 13 people have voted on it, and that number climbs every once in a while. I only know four of those people, one of which I know put, “This is my first time” because I gave her the link for the first time that day. So that means that there are 9 other people, who I don’t know who they are, reading my blogs, most of them read every time a new blog comes up. I think I know two of those people, someone called Joya or something like that, because she commented on one of my blogs, I believe it’s the naked trees one. And then I think the other one is my Cousin Tanya, because one time she inboxed me on facebook saying that she noticed I’ve been feeling down, and to stay strong. I don’t think I left any obvious things as my status about my depression. So that’s why I think that she just saw one of my blogs I wrote a while ago as my status, probably the one about what is the meaning of life.

My dad has been very irritating today. He tried to touch my feet, which I do not like. I asked him politely to stop, and he didn’t so he pissed me off and I walked away from my nice comfy couch, all nice and warm, watching TV

Then later, I made mac and cheese me me, my mom, and my sister, while my dad and my other sister went to see “Christmas at the Orpheum”  Before he left, he told us that after we are done with the mac and cheese, to don’t leave the pot on the stove. But we (or I guess I) left it there, it’s my fault. I had 1/2 a bowl, and then after that my mom went up for seconds. I should have put it in the sink, it’s my fault. It’s my fault that I went into the game room, instead of taking care of that pan. It’s my fault. Anyways, when he got home, he was complaining how they ( I ) left the pan on the stove, and that whenever he gets home there are always problems.

I feel that most of those, if not all, are my fault. It’s all of my fault that I didn’t take care of that pan, even though my sister and mom got seconds after me, and it’s my fault that I’m upset all of the time. It’s my fault that our money is tight right now. I heard that for people to live, you have to pay at least 10,000 dollars a year to live comfortably in America, with food, and clothes, and the furniture, and just everything all together. If I wasn’t alive, then that would be an extra 10,000 dollars a year for my family, and they wouldn’t be so broke, they would be able to pay for the x-box 360, and a laptop for my sisters, and just a whole ton of stuff. They would live happier. Barely anyone acknowledges me here anyways. They don’t realize me in the room as they turn off the lights.I just feel like I’m invisible, like no one appreciates me, and no one wants to listen to me, and sit down, and actually figure out what’s going on, and ask me how was my day without me lying to them every day. I want a lot a things that I want from my family, that I just don’t get. I want respect for the things I say and do. I want respect of my opinion. But I just don’t feel like I get that here. I feel like I don’t belong. One of my sisters doesn’t care what I do, she doesn’t care that I am pretty much like a mother to her daughter, or her dog, or her cat.

I want everything to be close to equal. I want to feel like I’m not the least favorite, like my life is a mistake. I want to actually have a pet, like my first two siblings did. I want to actually have a winter coat, because I don’t have one. I even want nice deodorant, like my sister. She has the nice smelling, easy-smoothing deodorant that you see all the time in commercials and ads, instead of the cheap, crusty, 2-dollar deodorant that smells like grandmas.

I want my mom to care enough about me to read my blogs, I know that she knows I have one. I even want some of my teachers, and my therapist to read my blogs. (my therapist probably will…) for them to understand the pain I’m going through, to let them know why I’ve been so down lately, to let them know why I just really don’t want to do my work anymore. I want them to care enough to know those things. I want them to read them, every time a new blog comes up. It’s easier to write these things than to say them. Maybe they will realize how much pain I’ve been going through, and how much I’ve been suffering, after I’m gone.

Dear Friend

This blog is made for a person in particular, a friend of mine. I’m pretty sure that you will read this, and I’m pretty sure that you know who you are.

I just wanted you to know that I do read your emails and your blogs, and I know that you are very concerned of me. I know I’ve been annoying and non-social able lately, but I haven't been feeling the greatest. I read every single email that you send me, and I get emails whenever you publish a new blog, so I’m covered there too. I know that you wrote a blog kind of similar to this, and I don’t think that you know that I read your blogs, or your emails, or your comments, but I do, I read every single one of them. I check my email at least four times a day to see if you wrote me an email. I know that I have been very suborn lately, and not been answering and replying to your emails, but a lot of it is because I can’t think of anything to say besides okay.

You, and a few other people know that I do not believe people when they tell me that I’m beautiful and not a waste of space, but for me it’s like that someone tells you that two plus two equals six, not four, but six. So, you see, it’s very hard for me to believe people that try to complement me on how I look/my talents, I always say thanks, but I don’t believe them. 

I was right

You know how that in my last blog, “Taking a Break” how that I am going to try to talk my mom into not letting me go to the girl scout Christmas party today? I was right. She did make me go, and I was right how I thought that I would have a hard time with it. But she said after today I can take a long break from girl scouts.

Okay, so when we first got there, I didn’t want to, and so I just sat on the stage that was in the room, and just watched them from above, until it got started about half an hour later. Then I helped a group of girls go through activities, and the first half I was thinking to myself, “Okay, this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be” and so then it was lunch time, and I kinda upset because I ate my food. But I didn’t cry, no matter how hard it was not to.

But then I was helping the little kids make the lid part for brownie in a jar (a jar with the dry ingredients for brownies, you just add the wet ingredients like eggs and stuff, and then you bake and your done.) But then the person in charge told me to go help then put the stuff in the jars. And I guess she just blew my concentration, because when I went to the next table, I started listening to the voice inside of me, the voice that used to be Josh. And my eyes started watering, and so then I told my mom that I was going to go outside to take a break.

And so I stood outside, with only my sweatshirt (I need to buy a coat…) and just stood in the snow and sleet, and cried. Silently, but I cried.

Twenty minutes later I thought that they needed me kind of, and so then I went in, and I thought I was done crying, but I wasn’t. I continued. And I tried to find work to do, while walking around, brushing my tears off my face for a while. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t stop listening to myself. And I guess my mom thought that I was just hurting, like physically, not emotionally. Because I asked for pain reliever earlier for my headache (which I have about 2-3 times a day) And so she told me that Bobbi had some pain reliever, and she can give me some if I asked. But I didn’t ask, because she looked busy. But then a few moments later, she called my name, and signaled me go to over there, and so I did, and she did nothing. I thought that she was signaling for me to work, but to tell you the truth, I could barley see because my eyes were blurry from crying. And so then I just sat down, and let my tears fall. I noticed people staring at me, I was probably there crying for about half an hour. But no one really asked me what’s wrong until later. And of course, being the selfish liar I am, I said, “yeah, I’m okay” And they just kept walking.

I felt so ashamed of being there. Especially crying. I thought that the other workers were mad at me that I was sitting, but my hair in front of my face hid my tears. I felt embarrassed, that I was crying. All of my life, especially from teachers, and PE teacher in Elementary school, whenever I cried, they told me to shut up, and stop crying, crying is for babies, and that I should stop acting like one. That’s why I feel so embarrassed crying, because I thought that no body cared if I was crying or not, and if they did care, they just wanted me to shut the fuck up and stop. But that’s how I grew up.

Taking a break

It’s almost one in the morning, and I cannot sleep. So I decided to blog. I have a little less than 63% battery on this stupid netbook of the schools, so hopefully I have enough time to type until I can fall asleep.

Tomorrow is a girl scout Christmas party- and I don’t want to go. I usually help with girl scout stuff, volunteer to teach songs and make crafts, and usually I do enjoy it, but I am not in the mood to be in a room with about 40 little girls, I don’t even want to be in a room with 10 people, period. I feel that there are too many people judging me, and watching every move I do.

I am hoping I can talk my mom into not letting me go tomorrow, but she’ll probably make me. I want to take a break with all this girl scout volunteering stuff and just spend time enjoying myself, like writing blogs or painting my nails, you know, heal what has been broken.

But like I said, she will probably make me go tomorrow. But I’m scared. I’m scared that in order from me taking a break from girl scouts is if I really tell her what’s going on, that it’s not people, it’s myself.

Josh is pretty much gone now, it’s now just myself that’s telling myself those things. I pretty much just gave up the fight, and let Josh win over what I know. I don’t think that all that stuff about me being fat, and ugly, and just a waste of space isn’t really an opinion. I don’t think that I am really fighting Josh, with me whispering in the background over his screams, “no your not” Josh has eaten me. Josh has eaten that whisper in the background. That voice is gone. I know really truly know that I am ugly, and I am fat, and that I am a waste of space, just like I know that most of the time the sky is blue, and that two plus two equals four.

It amazes me about how much stuff I think about. And how many people that actually do know me, doesn’t know about my battle with depression. They just think I’m okay. I say I’m okay, and fine, and pretty good, but I lie. I lie all of the time; at least once a day. I hate that question, “how are you?” I mean, what am I supposed to say to that every time someone asks, “Oh, pretty crappy, I just found out that I’m diagnosed with depression and PTSD, how about you?” I would rather lie than say that, creates less of a scene, plus people will think that I’m a whore, because I want attention.

I have thought about cutting my wrists, but I haven’t done it yet. But that’s one of the reasons why I need to take a break from girl scouts is because if I go through that, then I’ll want to hurt myself more than just putting my belt on at the last hole, and starving myself. I do those things and so I can feel pain, but the good kind of pain. Like the kind of pain so that you actually can feel something for a change, instead of just being numb.

I wonder what would happen if any of my teachers would see my blogs, what will they do? Will they treat me nicer and get me better grades because of it? Or will they just forget about it, or will they just think that I’m a whinney twit face that just needs to grow up?

Diagnosed

I forgot to tell you from my earlier blogs from today: I've been diagnosed with two things when I saw the therapist today: Depression, and Posttraumatic Stress Disorder, otherwise known as PTSD for short.
PTSD is a disorder where you get flashbacks and nightmares of something horrible (either something that happened once or over and over agian) has happened to you in the past, in my case, bullying.  Avoidance of stimuli associated with the trauma, and increased arousal– such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, anger, and hypervigilance. I have almost all of those symptoms. I do have flashbacks and nightmare, I do have problems going to sleep, and I try to shut myself from people as best as I can.
Some of my friends might have realised that inside of school, especially during class, I am shy, and quiet. But outside of school (or at least how I used to be) I was loud and outgoing. That's because I am terrified of trying to make new friends, and that's probably why I don't have very many, is because unless they are left out of the group, then we barely even look at each other, let alone talk to each other. I do not like working in other groups together, because I have past expiriances where they either say no and laugh at me, or if they say yes, they usually make me do all the work, either that or not let me do any of it.
We have also talked about anti-depressant pills, and the therapist did explain that it doesn't make you really happy, it just kinda makes you sleep easier if you have trouble sleeping (In my case, I do) and that she does not recommend having to just be on anti-depressants. She said that we will try the Therapy for a while, and if that still doens't work, then we will put me on anti-depressants.
I have asked for a therapist before, I have asked for one since the sixth grade. But all my dad says is that they won't help me at all, and all they'll do is tell me to fucking live with depression, it's a waste of money. And I don't know if he knows I'm going through therapy, my mom filled out the paper work. And I really do not hope that we have to pay for it, that it will be covered by the insurance, because if we do have to pay, I probably can't have it since it's "a waste of time and money" and that means no anti-depressant pills, and that will probably, in the end, no more life.
I have thought about suicide before, I've thought about it for a really long time. I've had a plan of how I was going to die, how I was going to be burried, even what day of the week that I prefer it on, and what song they'll play at my funural. I've thought of it all. But there are two things that are holding me back right now, one, is Christmas. I do not want to die around Christmas time and then for the rest of my family's and friend's lives, they're whole Christmas will be ruined because every single year they'll think, "Oh, my sister died today two years ago" or "Oh, my best friend died today twenty years ago"
And then the other thing that is holding me back is one paricular friend. I know that she is worried about me, and I also know that she is basically thinking of me 24/7. I also know that she really does care about me, and she really does want me to fight depression, so far that she was willing enough to plan my kidnapping and take me to the councilor (which didn't go as planned, but it still worked) and I know that if I do commit suicide, she will never forgive herself. I know that she will blame herself for my suicide. I know that she will live the rest of her life thinking, "I should of done this" or "I should have done that". And have that feeling of regret and resentment haunting her for the rest of her life.

More about today

There are a few things that I forgot to tell you from my last blog, so since I have time, I’m going to tell you them.

So at the girl’s circle, I got a bag full of presents. It’s a pretty good bag too, it’s one of those stringed ones, but it has a couple water-bottle holders, and a pocket in the front. The bag, and almost everything it, is sponsored, and has logos on them. My bag says good-will on it, and I have a few pens and pencils that have one, and a little tiny cute notebook with the mall’s logo on it. The only thing that doesn’t have a logo on it, is a folder, those folders that you can pin paper in.

Another thing that I forgot to mention is what I ate yesterday. I had: a pudding cup, potato soup, a frozen burrito, and a brownie. And all I can say to myself when I say, write, or read that stuff, is fat, fat, fat. I haven’t eaten anything today yet, and this time I want to try my hardest to stick to my plan: Only dinner.

Therapy

Today was my first day of therapy, well, kinda. My real therapist was supposed to be here on Tuesday, but I was informed (today, in first block) that she has cancer, and she was getting a surgery. So today they had a replacement therapist, just to talk to me and tell me what’s up with my real therapist.

And now I’m at lunch, no one is forcing me to eat. My stomach is hurting in pain, but a good kind of pain, because at least I feel something, instead of nothing.

Anyways, I was basically in class for about 20 minutes tops. And we have block scheduling, so each class is 90 minutes. So I missed a whole hour of class. That’s okay, I had geometry, and I hate geometry.

So I went to class, got called out of class for therapy, then went back to class, and then left again for girls circle.

And so now I’m bored, and trying to keep my mind off food, and so I’m going to tell you about it. (girl’s circle that is)

So girl’s circle is a group of girls that get called out of class every Friday, and just talk about collage, and futures, and serious stuff, like depression. But we also play fun games and have fun.

And so today we played kind of a game. First we were in a circle and then Beth (the adult in charge) said something, like, “I have a sibling” then we step into the circle, to see what we had in common with other people. And then we got paired up, and then they gave us subjects to talk about, then share with the rest of the group. The first one was what were we embarrassed for, like, a moment in our lives. I told about the time I peed my pants in 2nd grade, (the teacher wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom, and I had the bladder of a squirrel) and then we told about something that we were ashamed of. (I told about my F I got on a Spanish quiz) and then we told about a moment in our lives that we thought we couldn’t do something, but we did. (I told about the American Gothic Parody with a zebra and a flamingo, which I did really good in.)

And then we went back to the table and just talked. First we talked about how was our week, and then something that we were proud of ourselves for this week. For the proud one, I told about fighting my depression, and that I had my first session of Therapy today. They didn’t really say anything, they just sat there and said, “good” I think they were a little shocked.

December: an update

You know how I said that I’m going to try to write 100 blogs for December? Yeah….. I changed my mind. I’m going to write 50. And this is why: I have had my blog since the end of August, and I just made my 100-blog-milestone. And plus I would have to write an average of five blogs a day, so… it’s going to be 50 blogs.

Christmas Fighting

My family is putting decorations on the tree, well, half the family. I'm not, because I'm getting annoyed with two of those people upstairs, my niece and my sister (her mom)

I don't even feel like they're my family anymore. Whenever I try to be nice and say I love you once in a while, they go, "what do you want you fricking weirdo?" and plus, whenever my sister's dog, which she couldn't have afforded in the first place (500 dollar dog...) and this dog, they can't even take care of. They never walk it, and the dog gets into everything, Kleenexes, cardboard, everything, and all they do is sit and laugh as I try to get whatever’s is her mouth out.

And my sister is down here doing homework, and then my dad’s asleep because he has to go to work early. And then my mom is up there helping. All they want me for, is to carry up the Christmas ornaments. Nothing else. Last year I kind of quit because my sister (the same one that is upstairs) called me a bitch, so I got mad and left. And then later my mom yelled at me and forced me to help decorate the tree, and be happy, but I never was that night.

Lonely and Starving

I hate this, being lonely. It’s annoying. Aren’t friends supposed to be there for you, to bring you up when your down? Aren’t friends supposed to always be there for you, and talk to you? Well, I guess I’m a bad friend too, since one of my friend’s friends… (who I find annoying) called me a bad friend, because I haven’t been talking to my friend. Well, you know I haven't been feeling good. I don’t want to talk to people, I want people to talk to me. If they don’t talk to me, then I think that they just really don’t want to, I give up trying to talk to people, unless they start talking to me.

Some of you (you know who you are) have been yelling at me for not eating rarely. And you say that it’s not a good way to lose weight, but loosing weight isn’t all that the problem is, the whole problem is that I feel like I don’t deserve to eat. I feel that there are plenty of people out there that are better than me, and are starving to death. I feel that a lot of people, that are way better than me, and prettier than me, are dying from starvation. And so that’s why I’m starving myself, so I’ll kind of give me food to them, even though it probably won’t go to them, but I know how they feel. Only mine is a choice.

But also I have been starving myself for the weight. With Thanksgiving around I really didn’t lose weight, and I feel that I ate too many surgery snacks, a piece of pumpkin pie with cool whip, three or four cookies, and even a few kisses here and there. Whenever I eat, I think to myself, “Why am I eating this stuff, I don’t deserve it!” Then I try to stop eating.

I have decided, and I know some of you will yell at me for this, but I have decided to only have only one meal today: dinner. I am sitting at lunch right now, and there’s no one (you know who you are) forcing me to eat. Yes, I do “eat” lunch with a friend of mine, but we never talk. She kind of tries to make me eat, but only fights me for about 2 seconds, then quits. She will buy me a chip bag or something (which I’ve been eating for the only thing for lunch for about 2 weeks now) that are baked, so they’re healthier than normal chips. But today I refused her offer. She told me that I needed to eat, and put the chips next to her. Then about three minutes later, she asked, “are you sure your not going to eat this?” I nodded, and then she opened the bag, and started eating. My plan worked, I’m not going to eat lunch today.

I really am hungry, and my stomach is hurting because that’s how hungry I am. But it kind of feels like a good kind of pain. I feel that I can actually feel something besides numbness in the world. I have also been putting my belt buckle to the last hole, just to feel that pain. Plus, I hope it makes me look skinnier. I used to be the third to the last hole, but since I’ve been starving myself, that hole is too big, and so then I went to the second hole, and it felt comfortable there. But then a few days later, I decided to go to the last hole. And it leaves red marks on my fatty waist and love-handles when I take it off, but everyday it hurts less and less. I don’t know if it’s because I’m actually getting skinnier, or if it’s just the fact that I’m getting used to the pain.

I only lost about half a pound in the past week, which isn’t good enough for me. I want to weigh at least 140, and right now I weigh 150, I used to weigh, before I started starving myself, 158. That’s almost ten pounds in two weeks. Well, actually I lost it in a week, but then I lost about 1/2 a pound. And I don’t want to gain any of it back.

December

It's here, December. The month of cold weather, sneezing and coughing, and Christmas. I have decided to do a goal for December, that involves you, if you so wish. I am going to try to write 100 blogs just for the month of December.
I know I havn't been blogging lately, and that's because my school netbook (It's like a laptop, only smaller) was broken, and had a virus on it. And so I had to turn it in the libruary, where they "Help" us and "fix" our netbook problems. Well, three weeks past, almost four, and I still didn't heared anything about my netbook. And so then I went in, and they told me that they were still reimaging it, and so then they just gave me a different one, and now I have nothing on here. None of the notes I took at the beginning of the year, none of my projects I worked on, none of the stories and poems I wrote on here.... I really need a flashdrive so I can back-up my stuff.

Facebook Status

Most of the time it's harmless, but sometimes it hurts, even if it wasn't ment for you. Like one time I read a facebook status, "If you want attention, then your a whore. If you want respect, then your a women" But what I don't understand, is what do I want, attention, because I want them to know that I'm hurting? Or is it respect that I want. I truthfully do think that it's attention.
And then another one that I just read, "Attention all whores: go jump off a clift or die or something." So if I want attention, then I'm a whore, and if I'm a whore, then I should go die, right?
And then I read another status, which isn't really in the subject of whores and stuff, but it really did hurt me (especially since it was from my crush, well, ex-crush) He said, "If people doen't talk to you, it's either because, 1. YoU TypE liKE DiS. 2. You put hashmarks in front of #something. 3. Your annoying. 4. Your ugly. Don't be in these rules and you'll fit into society." But that's the thing, I don't fit into society for some odd reason. So I must fit into some of those rules, right?
But I guess I kind of deserve it, I accepted friend requests from people in my class. But I have made a few of my true friends because I accepted their request, even some that I really never met in school, but know them from IMing. How do you know who to add, and who not to add when the people you add could possibly be friends with are on there? How do you know who not to trust and who to trust. (Oh, by the way, the people that I find offensive statuses from, I unfriend, they usually arn't my friends anyways, just possible friends)
Yesterday I had a chance to go to my first therapy. I don't know if it was for sure or not, I handed the slip in the day before. Anyways, it didn't happen. And it's only supposed to happen on Tuesdays, so I guess that next Tuesday, if it still doen't happen, I will get worried. If I still don't get called in by the next Tuesday, then my worries will get worse, and think that they just don't care. If it happens the next week, then I'm hoping it's because of Semester Tests. But if it still doesn't happen, then I'll think that they don't care about me, and I feel that it's kind of weird to go see the councilor at least once a week, plus she's really busy. So if they never call me in, even to just tell me what's wrong with the paperwork, I'll feel unimportant and worthless even more than I already do.

Naked Trees and Random Thoughts

There is a naked tree in our living room. Sure, it might not be NAKED... and it might be fake, but it has no decorations on it, I'm not sure when we're going to do that, who knows, my family will probably do it without me, because that's just how much they love me and care about me.
I noticed that I havn't been really caring about my grades, at least not as much as I did in the past. I just feel like there's no use anymore. Like why do all that work if it's not going to help or hurt any. I don't really do assignments untill the last minute, and sure I might try hard on my projects, but I usually don't do it untill the last second, and then somehow I get an A. I don't know about you but I love big projects. I like to make a 3D model of an atom, like I did earlier this year in biology, I made it out of rice crispies, marshmellows, frosting, and fruit roll ups. Or making a concept cube, like I did tonight. But not a big fan of the "Ohh, do 1-24 on page 342" stuff.
I'm starting to get one of my worst grades ever- a B-. I never get that, I think the last time was in the 8th grade, in one class. But this year I'm getting it in 2: Spainish and English. Spainish I'm wondering why it's nothing lower than a B-. And I don't really care about English anymore, I don't really like the teacher, all she cares about is reading comprehension. I like to do the jounaling and writing things, not once every nine weeks. I want to do a journal, having her give us a topic, and we write about it. I miss doing that.

Family

Okay, so first I want to say that my last post (He's gone) was my 100th blog...
It's back to how it was since my brother left, but I guess it's just getting worse and worse here every day Josh is here. Not many people care anymore, I don't really talk to my dad anymore, he doesn't really talk to me, because I didn't want to tell him what's wrong, I really never do. My blogs are like my sancuary, I type what I'm thinking instead of saying it, which is a lot easier, even though I sometimes cry during my blog.
My mom still thinks I'm being bullied. In the comments section in my mental health paperwork, she put that I was being bullied, which I'm not. The last time (That I know of... you never know for sure if someone is spreading rumors about you) that I've been bullied was when I got called a piece of shit a few weeks ago. And as I knew it, my sister Jackie doesn't know anything about anything, that I know of.
I don't really cry anymore when I hear Josh screaming in my ear. I'm used to it. It almost feels like a fact, like 2 plus 2 equals four, instead of an opinion.

He's gone

Sorry I havn't been blogging lately, but it's Thanksgiving Weekend, and my brother is home! Or... I guess was.
I cried when he left. He was the only person in the house that would actually listen to me and pay at least a little attention to me. Sure, there's friends that I could talk to, but I don't think that they can talk and hang out with me 24/7, and so I guess I'm just going to go back to my ordinary schedual, go into the gameroom most of the time.

Thanksgiving

If you read my blog yesterday, you will know that my councilor told me to thank my friends for helping me this week, (I would thank my family, but they don't really understand and it seems that some of them doesn't really care. Yesterday when I didn't really want to eat, even though I was starving, my sister said, "well, if she doesn't want to eat, then she doesn't want to eat" but I did, it was hard, but I did it) but back to the subject. I do not think I have the strength to say it out loud to my friends, so if you are my friend, and you helped me out this week (you probably did... since your reading this blog) then thanks. :)
Remember how yesterday how I said that I felt that no body really understands Josh, and they all think that I was being bullied. Well, turns out that my sister (anna) did understand me, and Josh, and the whole story, and she did try to tell my parents, but they didn't beileve her. So... WOOPEY DE DA DO.

Home

I do not really like my home. No body understands me here, no one pays attention to me here. It seems like no one wants to hear what I have to say.

The closest person to know what I'm going through is my sister, Anna. She knows that I fake sleep sometimes, but that pretty much it. Otherwise she just has the same thought process as everybody else: I am being picked on at school. Which wasn't the case.

Yes, I did fake sleep, I layed down by the gas fire place, still warm but not on, because my dad just turned it off. I put my blanket over me, and turned the dog bed upside-down as a pillow. And I listened, listen to their thought processes as they talked about me.

They all think I'm being picked on at school, appearently Anna didn't read very many of my blogs, because I do say that Josh doesn't exist, a lot. It just seems like she doesn't really care to read my blogs really, just read one and she thinks she knows the whole story.

Day full of tears

So today my sister was done with me being upset, and so she emailed the concilor and told her what was up with me. And I knew ahead of time that she and my other friend, who is also concerned about me, were going to pretty much kidnap me. My friend told me that we were going to go see her in the morning, and so then I waited for her, and waited, and waited, and she didn't show when the bell to go to class rang, so I went to class. (Later I find out that she wasn't there because she was having family issues at home and come there late)
And so then I go to my first class, graphic's design. And about half an hour into the class, I get a note to go to the councilor's. I remember that I was chatting with my friend with our school email stuff and I told her that I was going to be kidnapped, and so when I got that note, I told her "I got to go, I'm being kidnapped."
And so then I went, and the concilor was talking to someone at the moment I went in, and so then I had to wait for her to be done. Moments later, my friend came in. And soon after that, we went into the concilor's office, and we told her everything.
It took about an hour and a half, maybe a little less. (And with our block schedueling, a class is an hour and a half) And at the end my councilor told me that I had homework, and it was going to be really easy. Then she said no, it's not, it's going to be hard, but no papers (except for the ones for the mental clinic I have to fill out....) and it was to thank everyone that has helped me with it, or just coping me being like this. This is a lot harder than it sounds. I don't think that I'm ready to do that yet.
But there were a few things I kinda wanted to say, but didn't because I was afraid. Like the fact that I lost seven or eight pounds in a week, or how since I was starving myself, a lot of fat left my body, everywhere from my back, to my fingers, and maybe a little off my stomach and my thighs. But it's kind of painful to touch things and sit on something hard, or lay back and relax, because I can feel my bones.

Josh: How it began

I think it was last Tuesday night, I had a dream, a nightmare, of every bad thing that happened. All of the deaths in my life, all the times I was bullied, and then the next morning (Wednesday) I insisted that someone was going to die, because that's what happened last time I had a dream about people being mean/dying, people actually did die, someone that I knew, and either loved or one of my best friend's moms. It happens.
But usually those dreams arn't as graphic, and detailed, and as many bad events as I had last week. And that brought me down. It reminded me of all of the bad stuff that happened, and all of the mean stuff that was said. And that was how Josh was born, that night, when I remembered a lot of Elementary school and Middle school.
I tried to go to bed at 7:30 tonight, I just went into my room, played a CD, turned out the light, and layed down. Of course Josh was there screaming in my ear, so I was crying. Then about ten minutes later, my mom came in, telling me that she missed me, and being creative and funny, and me doing the roller coaster during annual conference. And she told me to play the ukulele. And so I did. And it did make me happier, but the reason I stopped was because my dad told me that he hated the ukulele, he didn't like how it sounded.
I actually hope that someone dies soon, someone suspific. And hopefully after tomorrow after a couple people kidnap me (you know who you are) and take me probably to the councilor, then he actually does die soon, and his name is Josh.

Walking Home

Today I had to walk home, and in Iowa, it's cold in late November, and I hate the cold. And during my walk, I was crying, because of Josh, and also because I was mad at my dad. He promissed me that if I have such a problem with walking that I could call him, and he would come and pick me up. He broke his promise.
I thought about all the things I would tell him. Tell him that he should just shut up and listen to me, when I tell him all about Josh. But when I was finally home, I just told him to shut up when he tried to tell me hi. I was mad at him.
He knows something is bothering me, he asked me if I got made fun of when I was walking home. I just mummbled no.
I don't want help with Josh, not really. I know that there are people out there that care about me, and want to help me, but I don't know why, but I just really don't want to have it. I guess it's because I don't want to make a scene, having to miss school or something, and everyone talking about me. But it's kind of confusing because I kind of want that, to let them know that rumors and words hurt, and scar people.
Yesterday my dad asked, "are you hurt emotionally or physically?" I told him emotionally. Then he said, "Well, why?" I didn't answer. He wouldn't understand. Sure, I'm pretty sure he's been depressed before. But not like this.
There's like, different kinds of depressions. The depression of money, the depression of mourning someone, the depression of overstress, and then finally, the depression of feeling down all the time, and saying hurtful things to yourself.
I know my friends tell me that I'm beautiful, but it kind of feels like they are kind of forced to say it, to make me feel better about myself. But when you have actually been called ugly, in the face, and when you overhear someone talking, it seems like it means more. They don't care about your feelings. Sometimes they don't even care to see you hurt, they just want to state a fact it seems like.
Do you know what I hate? I hate the kind of jokes that people make saying, "Ooh, if you don't have any friends, or even one friend, you are a looser" I spent most of elementry school (till the fourth grade) with one true friend. And she was in a different grade, so we were barely together, most of the time we didn't even have recess together. And then in the fourth grade she moved. And I had no friends untill the sixth grade, when I went to middle school. Sure, I might have had "friends" you know, the kind of friends that would just say hi to you outside of school, and then act like they don't even know you.

The cold...

You know about my stay-in-the-gameroom-unless-I-have-to-either-go-to-the-bathroom,-eat-or-go-to-bed plan? Today, it was a fail, because my niece's friend was over here, and of course, they HAVE TO PLAY in the gameroom, of all places, invade my space. And I couldn't get on the computer because my mom and sister get on the computer, and because I also wanted to be in the dark, where it's quiet, and I'm alone. And so then I went into the living room, but we don't have a TV in there, it's kinda pulled off to the side, but you can see the dinning room, and the front door from there. And so I turned off all of the lights, and put my blanket over my head, hiding my tears incase anyone sees me. But no one saw me, they just turned on the lights as they passed, which is another good reason to have my blanket over my head- to block out the light.
And I tried to take a nap, because I had nothing else to do. And I would rather me asleep and dream, than to be awake and think, and having Josh scream in my ear. But there was one problem- in order to be asleep, I have to be awake, for about 1/2 an hour before I can be at peace.
And so, I was almost there, Josh's screams where now whispers, and I was just about to fall asleep, untill my sister came into the room, and started playing her piano. I was now fully awake. I got up, and only then she noticed me, and said, "Ohh, where you asleep?" and I said no, because I wasn't, I was almost asleep. Anyways, she ruined it, and continued playing.
And so I went to the one place I know that was still dark and quiet, outside. Sure it was cold, and there were still noise, coming from cars, and my sister's piano bursting through the doors and windows (that piano is REALLY loud) , and a little light coming out of the windows, and the light coming from the streat light across the streat, but probably the most quietest, and darkest place in the whole house, even though it wasn't outside. I had ten minutes to be all by myself in the dark untill I eat dinner, untill I go to bed at ten thirty tonight, and so then I tried to make the most of it, and try to sleep. In the cold, dark night, and I was at peace. 

Josh: an update

I need to be doing something, 24/7, in order for him not to hurt me. I can't stop not thinking about him if I'm just sitting there....... doing nothing, or if I'm riding in a car, or if I'm doing dishes, or when I'm trying sleep. He screams.
I've been playing on the computer all day, well, since I got out of school. And I'm pretty sure someone will kick me off soon, so I'm just going to sit here and enjoy it. And then probably within the next half hour, someone is going to make me get off, and I'll just be alone, with Josh. There's nothing good on TV to watch, I'll probably watch another movie, yesterday I watched 1 and a 1/2...
I'm trying not to starve myself as much, it's just hard if the only thing you can find in the cupboards, without getting in trouble for, eating is saltine crackers.

Junk Food

Yesterday I had four cookies, and today I had four nutty bars, and an egg nog latte. I had more than that, but this is just the junk food. And all Josh says is, "fatty". I try to block him out but I can't. All I've basically been doing is sleeping day and night, taking naps, watching TV, doing whatever I can.
I lie everyday. When people at church asked me how was I, I said, "pretty good" or "okay" which is not the truth. My parents can tell I'm upset, from locking myself in the game room, where I usually spend my hours now days. I just sleep and watch TV, even if I don't feel like sleeping, I'm not tired at all, just trying to block Josh out. They also notice me acting upset, keeping my head down, keeping my hair in my face, even the usually outfit- skinny jeans and my purple sweatshirt. Every morning, for about 2 weeks, I wear that uniform. And for about a week, my mom says, "Is that what you're going to wear to school?" and I just say, "yeah".
My hunger pains are not as bad as the beginning of the week, they're less noticeable. But after I eat, especially if I eat a lot, my stomach kind of hurts, like the kind of pain that you're going to throw up. I don't know if it's because I'm upset because I did eat, I do feel like crying, which is why I havn't been wanting to do dishes after the meal, because I have to do it with my sister. She notices that I'm upset also, but she still hasn't read my blogs.
I have been thinking about asking my parents for anti-depressants, and my friend told me that vitinum D helps, but I just get nervous. I get nervous because I don't want anyone else to hear me, I don't want them to see me cry. Especially my sister, Jackie. She doesn't really notice anything that's going on in the house, the dishwasher was broken for about two weeks once, and she didn't even know untill my dad said that it was fixed. She didn't even notice that she computer was broken for about two months untill she heared that it was fixed. And I truthfully don't want her to know about Josh. She judges people a lot. Sometimes she is just like Josh. Telling me that I have no sence in style, and that I eat too much. She doensn't even feel like the family. One time she called me retarded because my other sister was mad at me for something.
I looked in the mirror today, and actually look at myself. I pulled my shirt up, and my pants down, and just really looked at myself, not just a glance like I usually do. And then I started crying, about my "love handles" about my "prego tummy" about my thighs. I couldn't stop. I was silent, but I cried.
I know, people have told me that not eating is not the best choice for loosing weight, but when I think about food, and how people spend seconds, minutes, or hours making it, and then me eating it, it feels like it's a waste, just like throwing food down the garbage. So many people have spent as least one second in their life, on this thing sitting in front of me on a plate.The making of it, the packaging of it, the transporting to the store, they put it on the shelf, someone (usually my mom) buys it, transports it to the house, store it, then cook it. It just seems too much work, just for one meal.
I don't know why I'm typing all this, I almost never talk anymore. I guess it's easier to type it than to speak it, and to hear it come out of my mouth. I cry just typing this, I don't know what's going to happen if I speak it.

Quick note

So, Anna is taking a shower, and I have to hurry after her. Anyways, so today is NerdGathering II! Yep, going to hang out with my sister and my friend, Maire!
And also, I am trying to eat more, but Josh is holding me back. Right now I'm so hungry I feel like puking. But I have no time for eating. If Josh is still around after Thanksgiving, I'm going to try to get anti-depressants. Okay, sounds like Anna is almost done, so I got to go.

Love

Yes, I have noticed that a lot of my blogs have been depressing lately. And yes, I have also noticed that I have been acting depressed. I will barely even talk, if I do respond to anything, it's just nods and shakes. I don't want to eat, and I have a friend that doesn't understand that. She probably is not reading this, but she's been paying a sandwhich for me for the past 3 days. I don't want to eat. I don't want to say it, and admit it, because I know it's bad. But I'm okay typing it. She doesn't read my blogs, and she doesn't know Josh or any of the other stuff that's been going on.
When me and another friend were talking about it at lunch, she was confused. She doesn't have a link to my blog anywhere on her computer, and I don't even think she knows I have one. But we were talking about Josh.
I think I gave him that name because it's easier to say and type Josh compared to "that voice in my head". I also think I gave him that name because I don't want to admit that I'm saying these things to myself, I'd rather say that someone else is telling them to me. I just hope that no one that would understand will hear that I gave my little voice in my head a name, they might throw me in a mental hosbital for the mentally insane.
I was wondering something today, what is the breaking point of being depressed, and suicidal. Is the breaking point just thinking about suicide; how will you end your life, when, what would you say in your suicide note, who would all show up to your funural, how do you want to be burried, or do you want to be cremated? Or is suicidal just commiting suicide.
Today in the middle of first block, I got a note to go to the cafateria at 9:45. I was worried, I don't know why, but I was. I guess I was worried that someone was worrying about me, and want to kill Josh. And so I went, and it was this group starting at my school called, "Girl's Circle" I just remembered that my coucilor advised that she will sign me up, and I would show up, to help me. It was a while ago, a little over a month. But today was the first meeting.
The people there said that Girl's Circle is going to be fun, and help us with our grades, our attendance, and our strength. I'm okay with the first two- A-B average, almost perfect attendance. But the strength I need to work on. I only knew one girl in the group, who was in my spainish class and the kind of person that cares more about their looks, than their grades. Care more about not looking stupid, than having fun. But the rest of them I never met, or saw before in my life.
Today we played a game, called human bingo. And I actually talked. I talked about my family; how many brothers and sisters I have. And I talked about Larry. I usually say nothing in most classes, and most of the time I count. Mostly all I say is here, if the teacher takes verbal attendance. I gave up asking people to work with me on projects a long time ago. Anyways human bingo is basically a game where you try to find out who you relate to. And Girls Circle is going to be an hour long, every Friday.

Josh

I try to eat, but something is holding me back. That something is the words my little voice inside of me tells me. No one can hear that tiny little voice, but me. I think I shall name him... Josh.
So Josh is just someone that says things that people have said to me in the past, over and over and over again. And sometimes he just makes things up on his own. It just matters on the day.
Lately, Josh has been really annoying, and sometimes I beileve what he tells me. He tells me that I'm fat, ugly, and worthless. He tells me not to eat, because I already look pregnant. He tells me to just go into the bathroom after I'm done eating, but I haven't done that yet. He makes me feel left out, and pushes me out of people and groups. He makes me not want to trust people, makes me think that most of them are just like him. He reminds me that I don't have many friends, and he tells me why I don't. He says I'm worthless, that I can't really do anything in my life. He makes me terrified to be around people, and yet me makes me terrified of being alone. He tells me why eat, your worthless anyways. He stabs me, and punches me in the eye. He brings me down. And when I'm alone, he screams those mean things. And my eyes start watering, just as they're doing now. I try to keep my mind off of Josh, but he just comes back. He won't leave me alone. He's just a big bully. A bully that I know, and he knows a lot more about me than I know of him. He knows my weaknesess, and my secrets, and my past. And all I know about him, is his name. And he isn't even a real person.

Majority Wins

Majority wins of how I think of myself. Majority wins of how I think I look. Majority wins on how I act. Majority wins on how much I really worth. Majority wins on what I should do to myself. Majority has won over my mind, how I think, how I think I look, how I act, how much do I think of myself, and what I should do to myself. And I don't think that majority will lose.

When the time is right....

I have a whole ton (actually, 6) of cards in plastic sleeves that say stuff, and they're all pretty much the same. "When the time is right, I'll talk about sexual orinentation. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about healthcare. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about economic justice. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about war. How about now?" "When the time is right, I'll talk about child sexual abuse. How about now?" and the last subject was blank, and so then I put in Jesus. So now that one says, "When the time is right, I'll talk about Jesus. How about now?"
Why not now? When is the right time to talk about any of these? There's really no time to tell and to have a discusion about any of these, because they all have one thing in common, they are all somehow related to depression, and violence, and just too much bad stuff vs. good. Sure, the Jesus thing is pretty dang good thing, but there are still people that don't beileve in him, and even worse, are against him. And that's exactly why we need to talk about these, because if we don't talk about these, then we would never be able to talk about these. Because if we don't do this, then they are just going to stay bad and horrible, and will never be able to be comfortable to talk about. (Even though I don't really understand the healthcare, because I'm 16, but I liked the colors :D )

Christmas Shopping

So... I'm just sitting here sucking on a grape flavored rock candy... probably not the best idea before I go to bed... but all well, I guess.
Anyways, today I went shopping with Maire and her family (I would give you a link to Maire's blogs, but I'm too lazy to go find it...) You know that feeling you get when you spent so much time with someone, that you feel like family? That's what it feels like. They all know my name, and they even know where I live... and now they're sounding like stalkers. But anyways, I got a lot of Chirstmas shopping done, I got presents for both my parents, a present for one of my friends (well, all if you count the 15 cent present I got all of them...) and... I got something for the grab bag that me and my friends are going to do... I wish I can tell you what exactly what I got... but I'm worried that their might be stalkers on here that want to know what they're getting.. (you know who you are) but anyways, it was super, and I'll probably tell you what I got all of them AFTER they get their presents.... buh bye!

Puppy Chow

Sorry I havn't been writing lately, my school computer has a stupid virus on it and people barely let me on the home computer.
So... my niece and sister (her mom) decided to make some Puppy Chow. (If you don't know what that is, google it) And so they went shopping for the stuff then my sister says, "Emily, go help Kia (my niece) make puppy chow!" ...Lately I do not want to eat anything fatning, kind of beacuse (a) my sister (the one that told me to make puppy chow) has been calling me fat and been making fun of me, and saying that I eat everything.... and (b) people have been saying I've been pregnent. And so then, just right when I was about to say, "Why make it if I don't want any" then she said, "I know you will want some!" And she wouldn't beileve me if I told her no, I didn't. So I just sat there and did nothing.

Trying

I am trying to heal, but I wonder if I will ever get the chance. I have been trying to at least dress nice, but I don’t think I am going to at school. Just wear the ordinary “sweat-shirt and jeans” uniform. The same uniform I have been wearing since Thursday, the day after I found out that people think I’m pregnant. I don’t want to think that, and since I’ve been “pregnant” for about 4 years now, I obviously look like it.

The other day, in Spanish, a girl told me that I dress nice. She first was starting to her friend across the room, talking about who dresses nice and who doesn’t. And then I walked in between them, and one of them said, “Hey, Emily, you dress nice” I think this was on Friday. I said thanks, but didn’t really mean it. I am so used to people giving me complements, then laughing the next second. But then I found out she wasn’t joking, but the friend she was talking to thought she was. She laughed and said, “Ha! No she doesn’t!” I didn’t listen into the rest of the conversation.

I remember in homeroom last year, we were playing a game. The mentors (upperclassmen “leading” the freshman into good choices… I didn’t like it) taped a word on our back, and we’re not supposed to see it. And everyone else is supposed to treat us like that. Like, there was a valley girl, which is basically a dumb blonde. And there was a drama queen. And people were doing what they were supposed to do, treat the people by what their backs said. But when I got mine, I had no idea what it was. And I didn’t want my friends to tell me, because I wanted to figure it out. But I couldn’t. It' was impossible. Whenever someone would look at my back to read the word, all they did was laugh as they walked away. And so I was guessing words like, Clown, or comedian, or you know, something funny. But then the bell rang to go to our next class, and we could see our words. I ripped mine off my back, and it said, “Beautiful”. I did not feel beautiful. I felt like it was all a big joke, that I’m the opposite of beautiful, but ugly.

I don’t ever think I can heal from bullying. I just have to try to forget about it. But I’ve been remembered about it a lot lately, and I feel like crying every time I do think about it. It hurts me. There are scars on my heart, and they will be there forever. Reminding me of my childhood/teen-hood. (If that’s a word…) I am crying right now, as I am typing this. I know people care about me, one of my friends keep sending me messages and emails about how she worries about me. But I just don’t think that enough people care about me. Not a lot of people know my story, how I’ve been bullied for 11 years, and still bullied today. How I have thought about so many things, that people would yell at me for if they find out what I’ve been thinking. Suicide, my funeral, who would show up and who wouldn’t. Don’t worry, I haven't thought about this for a few weeks, and I don’t think I will ever build up the courage to do so. I guess that’s a good thing, not have the courage to do something. What the lion from the wizard of Oz have gone to a great adventure for, Courage. I hope that I never to on that great adventure. 

It’s hard

It’s hard to stay strong. It’s hard to not cry, when you really want to. It’s hard standing up for yourself, especially if there’s things holding you back. It’s hard to think, that this might get better. It’s hard to live another day. It’s hard to be happy, and stay that way. It’s hard to live through everyday, and hope for the best. It’s hard trying to see, without your whole world going blur. It’s hard to lie and say, “I’m fine” when your really not. It’s hard to get up, and get dressed every day. It’s hard to eat. Life is hard.

Autophobia

It’s the fear of being alone, that’s what autophobia means. Being alone, walking home, P.E, all nightmares. I really don’t want to do any of those things, I almost cry in the thought of doing those things. I hate these things. And for the next three weeks, I have to walk home, alone, in the cold for two miles, but that’s not the worst part, the worst part is being alone.

I am terrified of walking home, especially alone. I am terrified of P.E. I am just terrified of being alone on the streets, or at school. I am terrified of bullies. I have been so hurt when I’m alone. It’s when I was called ugly, pregnant, and a piece of shit. All those were from walking home, and picking up my niece, alone. I am tired of being screamed in the face, being picked last, or when getting hit it the stomach with a ball, someone saying, “ooh, now you don’t have to get an abortion!” All that happened in P.E. when I’m alone. I am terrified that somebody will throw grapes at me, push me, and make jokes that I’m pregnant and slept with so and so, which all happened when in the hallways alone.

Alone, what a ugly, disgusting, fearful word. I hate the sound of it, I hate the feeling of it, I just hate alone altogether. Hate it.

Pain

They killed me. Not my “baby”, but my happiness. I thought that this would be over, that they grew up since the sixth grade. But they didn’t, and they might never will.

I don’t really think the rumor hurt me, but just the fact that I thought it died, and it didn’t. I really wish it could die. I just want to stab the rumor in it’s heart, and have all the hate and blood pour out of it, and hopefully don’t stain the carpet.

I know there’s someone out there who will yell at me for saying this, but I just feel that there are many more people that hate me, than love me. And I have no idea who doesn’t really care about me. But their rumors hurt so bad, and when your told them enough, and treated like them enough, you eventually believe them. I used to wear makeup everyday, because I was called ugly. So then when I wore makeup, I got called ugly. Then I thought, “What’s the point of even wearing makeup, I’m ugly with or without”

It’s like Narnia. When the kids go back to Narnia like, 3,000 years later, the trees didn’t dance, and the bears didn’t talk. And when they asked why, they said, “After you’ve been treated stupid for so long, then eventually become stupid”

I’m just so sick and tired of this. Almost to the breaking point.

I thought…

I thought that this war ended. I thought that all this bull crap is done and over with. I thought that after 11 years, I could be happy again. I thought that after being “pregnant” for 4 years, I thought that the “baby” would be born by now. I thought that I could be strong, and hold my head up high. I thought that I could survive. I thought wrong.

I cried for a whole two hours today, and now I’m crying again. I know someone out there is going to yell at me for saying this, but I am starving, but don’t think I deserve to eat. To “kill” my baby once and for all, to stab my stomach, and killing it, something that never even existed. Kill something that doesn’t even exist, never did! What a funny thought. But I really, truly want to kill it. I don’t care if you call it murder, I call it a rumor.

You know, the meanest thing that anyone had ever said to me was either, “you’re a piece of shit” or “your pregnant, but HA! too bad your too ugly to even get a guy” most likely the second one, because it stabbed me twice. But that was over a year ago, and it’s been echoing over and over and over again, for the past year, in my head, especially today.

I wonder what’s the longest pregnancy for a human, because if it’s under four years, I would win. I would win the world record for the longest pregnancy, even thought it never existed.

I don’t want to really talk about it, I don’t really want to be noticed. Not today, or probably not for the rest of the week. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to laugh. I just want to sit in a corner, in the background, stabbing my baby, and cry.

Stop it.

I just came back from seeing, “The Bully Project” It’s a documentary about things kids have to deal with for a whole entire year. It made me cry, and at some parts laugh.

It made me cry about the boy being punched, stabbed with pencils, bullies putting their hands around his neck, and squeezing it. It made me cry, for them to call this poor boy, a fag and a loser. It made me cry, to be so very connected to those things, remembering that some of those things happened to me. It made me cry, when this kid, thought these guys where his friends, because he doesn’t know what real friends do. He doesn’t know, how it feels to connect to people, and to be supported.

But it made me laugh, when that same kid, that kid, and all those things happened to that one kid, was on a bus. And when the kid’s parents found out about the kid being bullied, they saw the principle, and the principle said, ‘I have been on every single bus route at this school, and all the kids are as good as gold.”

And it also made me laugh, that the same kid said later in the movie, “Girls are like candy. Sometimes you want a hershy’s, or a snickers. Sometimes you want a lollypop, it’s hard to decide”

But I cried so much more than I laughed. It’s a really sad movie. True, but sad. I  recommend it to everyone, to have the inspiration to start something new. To help spread the awareness, and to stop having teachers say, “oh, well, boys will be boys so we can not do anything about it.”

That is a real quote from this documentary. So, you should google, “the bully project” and see if there’s any way you can see it, the showing they did tonight was free, and I’m guessing it will be at other places too.

Here is the Trailer

Pianos

I am outside, on Halloween night. Same song, playing over, and over, and over again, ringing in my ears. Irritation. Five hours a day, listening to that bloody instrument. I cannot take it anymore. Might as well throw it in the fire, because now I hate it. I hate it, and every single one of those keys, and my sister’s fingers dancing across them. Hate, hate that piano. Hate t hose songs, which I used to love. She ruined it for me. She had to practice her piano, from the minute she gets home, till the minute she has to stop for my dad to go to bed. From 3 till 8, everyday. 5 hours. 5 long, annoying, painful, mournful, stressful hours, for an instrument that was once beautiful, but now ugly as a swamp. I wish it was at a swamp, so I don’t have to sit outside, with my fingers and toes going numb from the almost November air. Cold, so very cold. But it’s better than listening to the deadly piano inside.

I do play an instrument too, the ukulele. But I never get to practice, because of the bloody piano. And it’s loud. I can go away into the basement, hiding under blankets, and I would still hear that bloody instrument. God, I hate the piano. She ruined my love. I am now going to sit outside, in the farthest part from the backyard, and practice the instrument I love, the ukulele. I am going to bring two chairs, one for me and the other for the laptop, and youtube going, showing me how to play songs. I am going to take my ukulele down, and practice. Practice, without hearing that bloody piano. I am going to bring down a big blanket, and hope my fingers don’t go numb in the cold fall air, like they are now. Bloody piano. I hate them. My love has disappeared of them.

Zombies

HORRAY!!! IT’S HALLOWEEN! The holiday where people dress up who for they are not, and stuff their face with candy. Now for me, I don’t really celebrate Halloween… I don’t have any plans, mom won’t let me trick or treat since I was 10. And I don’t get invited to any parties, and I don’t throw one since no one really shows up…. so I don’t really celebrate.

The only celebrating I do, is helping for a Halloween party for little girl scouts. This year, I was a zombie. And all I bought was the makeup.

I took an old t-shirt, ripped it up and put fake blood (which we already had) all over it. and then I just mixed white and black, and a little blue face paint together, and put it over my face and neck. I took black eye shadow, and but it over my eyelid, and put veins around my eyes, and some on my neck. Put on dark red lipstick, and I was ready

Why did God create pain?

If you read my blogs about bullies, you know that I have been bullied since kindergarten, and am still today. And I wondered why I was going through this, why God was putting me though this. And for the longest time, I thought that either ( a ) He didn’t exist,or ( b ) he hated me.

And so then for years, I’ve been asking God why am I bullied, why was I put on this planet, why am I crying, and in pain. But I didn’t get an answer for a really long time.But then one night, I wrote a poem, about bullying.

I am human
I am alive
I am somebody

I have a heart
I have a lung
I am somebody

I have feelings
I have ears
I am somebody

I have a chance
I have a voice
I am somebody

 

And so then I posted that on a facebook group, for anti-bullying, called, “Stand for the silent.” and 50 people liked it and some commented on it.

And so then about a week later, I wrote another,

You hit me, and I'm silent.
But on the inside, I am crying,
You make my world so violent
So much, I feel like dying

Those words you say to me,
I say I hear nothing, but I'm lying
Why can't you just leave me be,
as my tears are drying

And now I realize,
That I can use this body
To bring this society to equalize,
Because I am somebody.

Then, on this poem, 70 people liked it, 70! And this one even had even MORE comments, and one of them was when I realized, why God made me bullied, why was I put on this Earth.

my Dear you have a gift putting your thoughts and feelings into Words to Format a Poems is useful and also helpful in not only your healing but also in others..Brilliant...ImL

That’s what the person commented on the poem said. The lmL is a text symbol, just like <3 is a heart, lmL is a peace sign. the l is your pinky, the m is you ring and middle finger, and the L is your pointer finger and your thumb.

I do believe that the disasters that happen to us, do mean something. Taylor Swift once said that she was bullied as a kid, and she should actually thank those bullies, because if she never was bullied, then she wouldn’t write songs.

Girl Up!

So I was looking around youtube, and I found a video of Victoria Justice (Victoria from Victorious) Talking about this program called, “Girl up”

Girl Up is about inspiring other girls in developing countries to follow their dreams. Whether that be to be a doctor, a lawyer, or a pilot, they are most of the time unable to follow their dreams. Whether that be from low levels of enrollment in school, high levels of child marriage and way too many girls facing health risks from pregnancy and early child birth.  So this charity makes money, to have these girls that cannot afford their education.

I’ve been trying to watch videos more about this girl up charity, and one of them was about a conference. One of the main supporters, is actually a man. And he was saying that in England, his grandma did not want to have an arranged marriage, that she was forced to. So she walked out, and left them. And her family never talked to her again, they took her out of their lives. And also, she was the first women to drive a car, because back then only guys were driving.

I found this video on youtube, and it’s one of my favorites. It pretty much sums up what I’m trying to say, here. And you should visit www.girlup.org.

House of Straw

You know the story of the three little pigs? You know, where the wolf blows down the house of straw, then the house of sticks, and then he tries to blow down the house of bricks, but can’t? I am the house of straw. I live and breath, just like you do. But I get blown down easily, and I burn. I feel like crying when somebody laughs at me, when I do nothing funny. I burn up when I hear an ugly rumor about me. I get so hurt so easily, and I feel like dying. I am a walking, breathing, house of straw, and I burn easily.

A Thousand Years- Music Video Review from Christina Perri

I am a big fan of Christina Perri, she is one of my favorite musical artists ever, (she’s tied to Demi Lovato) and I found my newest favorite song/music video, A Thousand Years.

This is made for the newest Twilight Saga movie, Breaking Dawn, that is coming out in late November. Christina Perri specifically wrote this for the movie, because that was her biggest goal for this year, is to have one of her songs in one of the Twilight movies. And she did accomplish that goal, and she did it beautifully.

I think the music video was beautifully done. I love the beginning with her with the one candle in her hands. I think that was the perfect beginning for this song, and it really shows her true, natural beauty as the candle flickers the light upon her face.

And I also love the room full of candles, and the end, when she was facing the ocean at sunset.

At first when I saw the last scene with the ocean, I thought that it was rose petals, and then I thought it was leaves, but then I found out that for sure that it was actually feathers.

I could have not have the scenes from the movie in there, but I guess they have to be since that’s what she did the music for. But I wish that they would have maybe put those scenes in black and white, mostly at the part of the wedding, because that’s the part where she’s in the room with all of the candles, and it’s blue because of the windows. And then when they switched to the wedding clips, then it’s almost like the colors slapped me because it was just so bright, and kind of color, especially compared to that blue room. I wish that they would have made that part black and white, but then at the kissing scene then they would have make it fade into color, to add drama to the music video, and to add kind of a “This is going to be a really good ending” feeling.

But over all a really great song, a really great music video, and I love it to death, and I hope you do too.

The Meaning of Life

One of my friends put as their facebook status, “What is the meaning of life?” a couple people commented on it. One of them put, “Glorify God and know Him.” and the other put, “God and Marshmallows” but some people think differently.

I asked my friend BTR (I disguised her name) and then she asked me back, “funny or serious?” and I told her back, “whatever you think” and so she did both, the serious one, “to be successful, and make your life the best you can. (i really don't know haha)” and the second, and silly one,  “TO FANGIRL OVER JAMES AND LOGAN.” (Big Time Rush singers of a band, also actors in a TV show)

I asked another friend, Musical, (again, disguised her name) the same question, and she answered, “To learn and grow in what you do”

I asked another friend, Beautifully Short, the same thing, and she said, “make everyday an adventure”

I yet asked another friend, Jesca, and she said, “hard question” then she continued, “Everyone has a different opinion, but my opinion is life is the challenge to fulfill the urge to live, living life fulfilling dreams, making it through the hard and sad even the bad times in life, looking for the happy good times everyone hopes to find. Its difficult, but you either going to let yourself fail. Its a challenge on our part to see our strength and weaknesses unleashed”

I agree with Jesca, it is different for everyone, my opinion is to live to the fullest, and die happy.

But I think the overall meaning of life is to find out what life is about, and do it however you can. I’m pretty sure that Mother Theresa’s meaning of life is to try to help as many people as possible. I’m pretty sure that Michael Jackson’s meaning of life is to live life to the fullest, and don’t let anything stop you. I’m pretty sure Hitler’s meaning of life is to rule the world. It’s different for everyone.

Lines

I remember when I was in fifth or sixth grade, that I helped make care kits for breast cancer victims. It was in the mall, right in the center, and there were three sets of tables, each one of them had the same thing; bags, cards, shampoo, other health products, and just pamphlets about breast cancer. We were making kits, you just grab a bag, and put each thing in a bag as you go down the assembly line. I was at the mall just for that, making kits. And so we started, and it was hard to tell how many people were helping, because some people were staying, and some people were going. But in ten minutes, I think we made a world record. We made 200 kits in just 10 minutes! 200! That’s huge, and impressive.

It’s amazing what you could do if you just work together.

Christmas

What ever happened to Halloween and Thanksgiving? In some places, it seems like it just packed it’s bags and left the country. My biology teacher was complaining today about how WalMart has a lot of Christmas decorations up, Christmas trees up, all decorated with lights and decorations. And when I look down the road, I see that some people have their Christmas decorations, up and lighted. And when me and my sister went to pick up my niece from dance class, inside of the building, there was a Christmas tree.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday, but if you celebrate it too much, it’s not as exciting. There’s no more glimmer in the air like there was two months ago, before Halloween. I usually start singng Christmas songs to myself in the first few days of Christmas, and my friends tell me it’s crazy to be singing those songs that early.

ABC’s 25 days of Christmas is starting early this year. If you do not know what that is, it’s where ABC network plays Christmas movies for 25 days… well, I guess not. This year it’s starting the 20th, of November! That’s before Thanksgiving! More like 35 days of Christmas.

Christmas is getting annoying if it starts in the middle of October.

Frenemy

What is a frenemy? That’s how one of my friend’s poems started out that she read in scribblerz today. And it got me wondering… what is a frenemy? Well, friend is someone who encourages you and inspires you. And an enemy wishes the worst for you. So, what’s a frenemy? Is it someone who seems like they’re encouraging you but secretly wishes the worst for you? Or is it someone who seems like they wish the worst for you, but secretly wants to encourage you? Is it neither? Or is it both? Is it one, or the other? Is a frenemy just a word that no one can describe? Is it just a word in the universe made to just confuse people? Is it just a word, used to differ who the smart or the dumb people are? What is it? Who is it? Where is it? Do they know you personally, and wants to tell the world all your secrets? Do they live with you? Do you trust them? Or do you hate their guts, thinking they’re an enemy, but in reality, they are your frenemy?

Teachers

I used to be best friends with teachers. I used to know about their lives, their homes, their family. I know, I sound like a stalker. But I had to one to play with or talk to on the playground, so I would talk to the janitors and teachers on recess duty. I never did have any of them for one of my teachers, so it was weird. But they were my best friends, in Elementary school.

Then in middle school it was the same thing, but we weren’t really close. We only had one recess for about ten minutes after lunch. And I made my first friends! And so, sometimes if we had lunch together, then we would talk. But if we didn’t have lunch together, then I would just talk to the teachers, but not that often, they really didn’t care like the Elementary teachers did.

I would become friends with my homeroom teachers, although I do not remember my seventh grade teacher at all, I don’t even remember if it was a girl or a boy. But anyways, in homeroom I didn’t really have any friends in there, although my two friend’s last name started in the same letter as mine, so you would think that we were together, but they arranged our homerooms weird, I think they did it at random. So I would talk to the teacher to entertain myself.

And then there were the teachers from the special ed room. (I wrote this in a blog a while ago, but I cannot remember the title) I would help the special ed every morning, and the teachers in there I got really close to.

But then in high school, it all changed. I only made a few teacher friends last year, and none this year. The teachers I became kind of friends with, I really didn’t get to know them, but they got to know me. One of my teachers was my English teacher. She became our sponsor, the teacher in charge of the club, in scribblerz. Scribblerz is a club that my friend made, and I helped kind of. We revise our poems, and short stories, and at the end of the year we published a book with our selected masterpieces. It’s still going on, in fact we’re having a meeting today.

And my other teacher friend I became friends with last year was Ms. Malsom, she was awesome. She was my reconnecting youth teacher, or RY we called it. RY is a class where you learn anger management, and depression, and things like that, and you actually get a credit from it! Ms. Malsom also worked at a women and children shelter, and when their cookies pass the “sell by" date, she would take them and we would eat them. And there was a lot. But she wasn’t supposed to give us that stuff, so when a principle came she would hide it. But since that class was made to help with depression, we all learned about each other, and she learned about us. Unfortunately she got laid off this year, and haven't seen her since.

And then another person I made friends with was not a teacher, but a janitor. He cleans out the garbage everyday after school, and so I see him every time at scribblerz. I wave to him whenever I see him  in the hallway, and we stop and chat a little bit, if we have time. If we don’t have time, we just say something like, “What’s up?” or something like that….

But this year I don’t think that I will make any teacher friends. I just havn’t  been very open into talking to them as I had in the past. I just feel like most of them don’t care, probably because most of the people here don’t really care to become kind of close to teachers. Most of the students (and some of the teachers….) make fun of my last year’s English teacher, the sponsor for scribblerz, because she belly dances. But it’s pretty much the same for them, I don’t really like seeing them make out in the hallway.

Bleached

One time several years ago, I saw a documentary about African Americans bleaching their skin, to look white. I was pretty shocked, and hopefully not going on any more.

You should love for who you are, not what you want to be. If everyone was the same race, same hair color, and same facial features, this would be one boring world. Sure, you can dye your hair once in a while, wear makeup, and stuff like that, but you shouldn’t do it to be permanent, forever.

But strangely I do agree that you can put tattoos on your body. But only what you want, and no body else should tell you what to get and where. Tattoos is like a framed picture on your bedroom wall, except you can never take it down.

Anyways, be yourself, with your heart, voice, and appearance, and rock on.

Dance

I was in dance classes for a while, even though now I almost never dance. But I was in dance while I was about 5, and got out when I was 8. That was ballet.

And then in 8th grade, I signed up for the high school dance team. I know that I was in middle school, but that’s where we went for dance class. I remember it was 30 dollars a month, and we practiced every Wednesday at 6.

I did have one performance, and then a few weeks after that, was my last practice. While the teacher wasn’t looking, some of the girls were asking me questions like do I have any friends, and why are they my friends, and that why am I still living. So that was my last practice, I quit.

I didn’t tell the dance teacher that I quit, I never really talked to her, period. But then a few weeks later, I got a call from her, asking me what happened. And so I told her, and never told anyone again, until now.

Zombie Unicorn Hat

Haha, I know, funny topic, and this is going to be a pretty short blog.

Okay, so I was just looking at a video by the vlogbrothers, and then John Green made me severely jealous, with a zombie hat. He said someone made it for him… and I want one. Can somebody help me? I can do the hat and zombie part, but I need a unicorn horn. Does anybody have any suggestions? If so, comment below BAHHH… I’m a sheep

Perfect

One time, on facebok, I saw as my friend’s status, “I try to be perfect”  And so then I kind of got mad at her, and so then I commented on it, “perfect isn’t cool” well, then later I found out that it was a song lyric…

I am kind of a perfectionist, but only on school projects. I think of this as both a blessing and a curse. Blessing, because I will probably get an A on the project, and a curse because I might not get it done on time. Every line has to be perfect, and every staple has to be perfectly placed. Nothing can be on the paper, besides the printed ink that I printed out. When I have to draw lines, I have to get out a ruler, and carefully draw the perfectly black line with a marker.

Dead Butts

Cigarette butts, drowning in black water, as it soaks in poison. Poison, that kills you. Black, smoked tar slides down your slimy throat, and dances on your lung, killing you slowly.  Killing you, and everyone that you love in the pain of how could you do this to yourself, how you could harm yourself like this. Suicide. Just like jumping off a building, or choking yourself with pills, but more painful and slowly. Suicide. You could have stopped it, but now it’s too late. Your dead. Dead with poison. Dead as a stick. Dead as dead. Dead. Dead with the same poison that killed hundreds of thousands more people, with their deadly smoke, committing suicide, over the centuries, over the world. You could have stopped this. You could have stopped this deadly poison from entering your body, down your throat. You could have stopped killing yourself. But now you’re gone, and now it’s too late to stop.

Heaven

My friend’s mom left this planet we call Earth in January, two days after her birthday. (if you want to see my friend’s blog, here’s the link http://mairea.wordpress.com/) And she will always miss her mom, and will be thinking about her. And sometimes on facebook, my friend puts as her status how she wishes that she can tell her mom something, or how she wishes that she can show her something.

I believe that once someone dies, if they believe in Jesus and God, and have a faith in them, they will go to heaven. And in heaven, then they watch you, and listen to you. They hear what your thinking, and know what you are doing. They hear you wishing that they are there, but the truth is, they are. They see you and know you want to show them your homecoming dress, hair, and makeup, but they do see all that. They know all the bad things your thinking about yourself, and wishes that they could come back down and cheer you up. They see you pouring down tears, wishing that you can see each other again, and she gives you a warm hug, even though you don’t feel it, but it’s there. They miss you, and wish that both of you can feel each other’s warmth, as your hearts beat together, as one. They see you think, say, do everything you do, and they will always be there, even if it feels like they aren’t.

Throughout my life

(sorry this is late, I wrote it but it seems it never published :P)
I got my idea from my friend Maire, you can read her blog here http://mairea.wordpress.com/2011/10/06/2-for-1/
Okay, so I'm going to write what happened in my life, with only a word, phrase, or sentance describing each one.
Year 1- Birth, duh.
Year 2- Nothing really happened... just normal stuff I guess
Year 3- Um... went down a hill with a life-size toy car, I guess.
Year 4- 2nd year of preschool...
Year 5- KINGDERGARTEN
Year 6- My aunt tried to kidnap me... never seen her alive since.
Year 7- Went to Colorado for vacation
Year 8- Had my first Birthday Party!
Year 9- Um... quit swimming lessons I guess.
Year 10- Last year of Elementary School :D
Year 11-Remember that Aunt that tried to kidnap me, yeah, she died, and I also met Alissa
Year 12- Became really good friends with Alissa.
Year 13- Had my 3rd birthday party (my second was in Year 11, but I couldn't fit it)
Year 14- Had a small holloween party
Year 15- HIGH SCHOOL
Year 16- Um... I've only been here for about a month, so... I guess had another birthday party

Stay Strong

I logged into facebook this morning, with tons of statuses saying that someone’s a bitch and that they should die. Sure, they might did something mean and ugly to you, but that doesn’t mean that you should do the same to them. When you fight fire with fire, all it does is make a bigger fire. And we don’t want it to show, we want it to shrink and disappear.

Plus, when you call them that, you are just like them. You are brought down to their level, which is not where you want to be. I don’t care if they stole your boyfriend, or you’re just mad at them because you are wearing the same dress to homecoming, or if they are low enough to call you those things, you do not need to fight back.

Just ignore it, and stay strong. If you just leave it alone, then eventually the fire will just burn itself out.

King

He loves singing and dancing. He’s in multiple choirs, in flags, and cheerleading. He’s friends with many people, including the girls. But a lot of people think he’s gay, and he doesn’t care. That never stopped him from being himself.

Now he is Homecoming King, and loved by most. A lot of people say hello to him in the hallways, as so do I.

He is my friend. I’ve known him since I was in sixth grade, four years ago. I’ve got to know him in my Sunday school class, and my youth group. We aren’t the best of friends, but we say hello to each other in the hallway, and I feel lucky enough to do that.

Depression

It’s a killer, and it stabs you in your heart, and poisons your brain. It makes you be a bully, not to anyone necessarily, but to yourself. “Worthless, forgotten, fat, ugly, stupid” these are just some of the words that the poison does to you; as it swallows your soul.

I have been depressed for most of my life, and now I’m healed. But right now I two friends that are depressed. They may be reading this right now, they might not. There’s no way of knowing. But one of them, is just over stressed about everything, after her grandpa passed away last March. Then her grandma got a disease, that causes her to forget a lot, and to get mad.

But my other friend  think is just overly stressed as well, but also has the poison in her brain, and knife in her heart. And I really do believe that she’s bleeding. I believe that she’s actually so depressed, she might seriously hurt herself someday, on purpose.

I think I have a blessing and a curse, I care too much about people. I worry a lot about them. If they are missing, I worry about them. I think about the worst that’s happening. I can’t stop thinking about them until I know they’re safe. Sometimes I even cry because I’m worrying about them.

Chemo

In science (which I strangely love) Photo means light, and Chemo, means dark. And also, ography, means the study of light. So, photography means, the study of light. And therapy means to try to heal someone.

So chemotherapy is an attempt to heal someone, with darkness. Dark, sounds kind of scary. With all the memories of when you were younger, and monsters lived in the dark. Chemotherapy has the same fear as it did when your young, a monster living the the dark, only instead of saying “Boo” it says “Cancer”

You probably know that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. (And if you didn’t, where have you been in the past month?) I know a couple people that have meet breast cancer, one has fought and won the battle, and the other currently fighting it.

The women that has won the battle is one of my best friends, and she’s near her 90’s. She goes to church with me, her name is Nancy. Chemotherapy makes you loose your hair, and all of your hair falls off. (Well, look at the bright side, you don’t have to shave!) Nancy never really grew her hair back, just a few hairs on her head, so she usually wears hats.

And the other women, who is currently fighting the battle, is one of my friend’s mothers. I met her, and my friend at Annual Conference, and didn’t really interact with her. This strong women is currently a pasture, so my friend is a PK (Pastor’s Kid) as many of the other pages were. I remember sitting at lunch, with all of the other pages, and then my friend said, “If you see a bald later, can you tell me?” and some of them laughed, and was like, “Bald?” and laughed some more. Then she said, “yeah, that’s my mom.” then one of the pages asked, “Why is she bald?” then my friend goes, “She has breast cancer and has to go through chemo” Then that’s when everyone was quiet, and respectful.

It is estimated that 230,480 women will be diagnosed with and 39,520 women will die of cancer of the breast in 2011, according to National Cancer Institute. That’s a big number, really sad and depressing number.

I remember when I was younger, for a girl scout project we made special pillows, made for breast cancer survivors. These pillows were rounded, kind of like the pillows that so around your neck. But these pillows were to go under their arms, after they get part of their boob chopped off, getting rid of their cancer, hopefully. And it would hurt, and so they would put that pillow right underneath their armpit, and help support, and help it from hurting.

One of my favorite artists on youtube, Callie Moore, wrote a song last year, called October. It’s about cancer, and how much you love and miss them if they lost in battle. Her own mother passed away in October when Callie and her other sisters were pretty young. And she channeled her pain of the loss of her mother in this song.

This is the song