I think sometimes writing makes me more depressed.

I'm not sure why I feel this way. Sometimes I wonder if it's hearing others say how they feel or seeing it. Reading a sad book or watching a sad show. Maybe I've just built it all up for a while. Maybe it's just fate that I feel like this every few months.

I'm happy. I don't understand. I have a lot of good things going for me in my life.

But sometimes I get...sad? Emotional?

My chest is tight and I can't breathe. I told the doctor I'd been feeling like this lately and that I didn't know what was causing the stress, but that it just kept building up and getting worse. That I still wake up tired and that my whole body aches because I tense myself up. That my stomach is eating itself again because I'm nervous over nothing. She said, "And how's school? I guess I'll see you I'm three months."

I'd been fighting to only see her every three months and not to see a counselor and now when I'm showing the signs of needing it, when I'm crying out, she ignores me.

I just wish I could breathe. I feel like I'm not getting enough oxygen.

You're like your own sun.

052. Complete physical therapy and eventually join a gym.

Sometimes I wish I was born in a different time. And then I realize that I have way too many problems to be a functioning human being in a different time. I would have been one of those girls that everyone knew about, but weren't supposed to talk about. Suicide or disappeared mysteriously, sent off to some asylum because nobody knew how to fix me when all the strings broke.

Lying in bed realizing it's been a while since I've posted anything with any substance. So I'll get to feelings later.

In the last two weeks i've seen Brand New, The Get Up Kids, Eisley, Say Anything and Copeland. And now I'm broke. But it was so totally worth it.

I'm officially an active member in my sorority (Christian one), but it's kinda overwhelming. It keeps me busy. But I wonder already if it's keeping me too busy. I also feel like a liar. I haven't been going to church. I haven't been having a quiet time or relying on God for anything. I miss Him.

I have bronchitis. And now I'm having an allergic reaction to the antibiotics. I'm gonna scratch my skin off.

I still don't like Barack Obama. And it's not a race thing, gee.

I've received the 3 best mix tapes (cds) ever this week.

Gosh I itch.

Christmas will be here all too soon. I'm really excited for turkey day though.

I'll edit a picture in here tomorrow cause I think it makes for a better post.

I need to start getting my stuff ready to sell on etsy.

I miss playing music.

I wish I felt better.

I'm all mixed up inside. And itchy.

I am very sick. Getting my xray done today.

Well there goes that idea...

It started like every dream I have, mid-sentence. No idea why.

I wish I wold stop getting sick.

I wish that we could talk about it,
But there, that's the problem.
With someone new I couldn't start it,
Too late, for beginnings.
The little things that made me nervous,
Are gone, in a moment.
I miss the way we used to argue,
Locked, in your basement.

I see myself stumbling down a downtown street, in red heels, arm in arm with friends and a huge laugh exploding on my face. I imagine that I could be this girl were it not for so many factors. I see these girls. They have jobs. Working in the mornings so they can go out as night and wake up the next morning, a little hungover, to do it again.

I can never be this girl. Reason 1: I can’t wear heels. I just can’t really walk in them. And they hurt my back. I can’t stay out late and wake up early. That cycle wears on me. I’ve tried it. I wish I could keep my days jam packed. It’s so nice to not be bored. To not sit on the couch with my parents, watching TV every night. But I’ve tried to be the party girl. Working, going out, and waking up to work again... I can barely make it through the day. I already have Chronic Fatigue, adding to that a hangover. It doesn’t work.

Alcohol and my meds. They don’t mix. I’ve tried that too. I’ve decided I need to stop drinking. I’ve decided I need to get off my meds. Yet, I don’t do either of those things.

I can’t be one of those well dressed girls, just drunk enough to feel a laugh, stammering to the cute boys around me, wandering in and out of clubs and pubs.

So I sit here on my couch in sweat pants. I write depressing blogs that few read. And I imagine all the things I could be doing with my life. I say all the things I want to do and I make no steps towards the goal.

What have I become?
What have I become?
What was I to begin with?

She takes photographs of people she knows
She brings out the best and worst in them
And God is buried deep in the folds
Of her fractured self and the lies that they've told
She used to laugh at everything old
It was a joke that never aged a bit
But when they robbed her of her infinite smile
She said, "maybe I'll just play dead for a while"


I want to know your fear
from your feet
to the back of your ear

you're what keeps me believing
the world's not long dead
strength in my bones
put the words in my head
when they pour out to paper
it's all for you
cuz that's what you do

Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy and they were best friends.

Even though they had issues to work through, they knew they had something special so they held on tight.

That felt weird for some reason. For the most part it was a great night. There were moments when I felt I was on the outside. I've decided I don't like that.

I've been overly sensetive lately. I haven't been crying at everything, but I've felt like crying at nothing.

I'm also going through a pretty rough fibro flare. It's been up and down the last few months and I can feel the down coming back.

I just want to feel good for once. Like even when I do feel good, I can't remember it when I'm feeling bad. I know I've had good days recently, but I honestly can't remember a time when I've felt really good. When I haven't had pain of some sort. When I haven't been out of breath from walking a few steps. When it's been easy to fall asleep or wake up.



I catch myself holding my breath a lot. I'll be so focused on something or so deep in thought that I just forget to breathe. I thought that was supposed to be one of those involuntary things that you didn't have to think about. So why should I have to remind myself to breathe? Does it mean that I'm forgetting to breathe, but purposely holding my breath?

You've got this silly way of keeping me on the edge of my seat.

I know you wish you could hate me. I'm sorry you can't.

But I'm glad.