Angry rant

I'm so pissed at Ed right now.  He has KILLED so many people.  It's not fair that society degrade women to the point where they literally have to starve themselves to death.  How can such a great society have such a fatal flaw.  Rest in peace Isabelle Caro, you did not die in vein.  Every person who raises awaness for eating disorders could save someones life.  Please, please, please stay strong and know that I love you just the way you are.  Don't change a thing.  I'm praying for you.

attention seeking

For a few months now people have been telling me I use attention seeking behaviors.  I know I have because, according to Maslow, it is a basic human need to have attention and I am being consumed by loneliness.  I try so hard to do everything for the right reasons, not for attention, but then how do I get the attention I need?  I feel like I ask for it in appropriate ways and people still ignore me because they think it's attention seeking.  It feels like anything I do is wrong.  I don't know what to do anymore.  I have no one to talk to, nothing to do, no life to live for... Yes, I'm in the puddle and I don't care because there is no one there waiting for me to come out, there's no reason to try anymore.  I need motivation.

The Lonely

2am; where do I begin,
Crying off my face again.
The silent sound of loneliness
Wants to follow me to bed.

I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most.
I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well.

Dancing slowly in an empty room,
Can the lonely take the place of you?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby.
Let you go and let the lonely in
To take my heart again.

Too afraid to go inside
For the pain of one more loveless night.
But the loneliness will stay with me
And hold me til I fall asleep.

I'm a ghost of a girl that I want to be most.
I'm the shell of a girl that I used to know well.

Dancing slowly in an empty room,
Can the lonely take the place of you?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby.
Let you go and let the lonely in
To take my heart again.

Broken pieces of
A barely breathing story
Where there once was love
Now there's only me and the lonely.

Dancing slowly in an empty room
Can the lonely take the place of you?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby
Let you go and let the lonely in
To take my heart again.

Checking in

So I haven't writen in awhile.  My therapist told me it was a bad idea to be bloggong bt I think that's just because there are a lot of non-recovery oriented blogs out there. Recovery is a journey, I'm still not sure I want it, but at least now I know I want life and that should be enough to keep me going. 

I still feel like an outcast, even aroud family and friends... in fact, the only time I don't feel like a total outcast is when I'm around strangers,

I worked my first birthday party at work today, it was lots of fun- 25 screaming kids! Anyways, I have a lot of homework to do so I'm going to make this post short.

In the Beginning

Like many people, my life began long before the day I was born.  I suppose the stars were alined just right and al the events leading up to my life fell into place.  My Mother, Tammy, grew up in a house with 6 children; Terry, Linda, Jesse, Karla, Tammy, and Vonda.  When she was an adolecent her father died because of colestoral complications, I'm not sure exactly what happened though because she doesn't talk about her childhood at all.  I do know that Terry and Jesse became the typical jocks, Linda became the rebel who got kicked ou of the house when she was 17 and nearly exiled from the family, Karla developed middle child syndrome and faded into nothingness next to the rest of the family, my Mother was a basketball star a band geek- an overachiever at best, and Vonda was the baby girl who grew up to be a serial bride.  On the outside looking in they seened happy, but as I grow up I learn that there is more beneath the surface.

My Father, Doug, is the 1st child of his divorced parents.  Debbie is his little sister.  Wehn he was very young Grandma Jean and Papa broke up and Grandma Jean went on to marry her high-school sweatheart, Eddie.  Dad lived in Joplin, MO with Papa and Debbie lived in Independence, KS with Grandma and Eddie.  Grandpa was really devoted to his publishing company and never really seemed interested in finding someone else until a few years ago... but I'll get to that later.  Dad went to college in Iowa State and Debbie got married and had her daughter, Lanie, then she found out her husband was gay and somewhere in th mix Papa got involved and they ceased communication all together.  I'm still not quite sure what happened, I just knowthat my Dad has been the middle-man for well over 18 years.

My parents met at a club.  My Mom was actually supposed to be on a date at another club but she got stood up so her girlfriend took her to the club where my father happened to be and they hit it off.  They got married in Witicha, KS, my Mom's hometown, and bought their first house.  My older sister, Amber was born July 16th, 1990.  Two years later my Dad's job moved then to Topeaka.  A week before they moved I was born.  September 3rd, 1992 is the day used to mark my age, today I am 18 years young, in a few months I will have made it around the sun a total of 19 times.....

To be continued.

POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS:

You are beautiful.
You are intelligent.
You are worthy.
You are genorous.
You are caring.
You are loving.
You are loved.
You are amazing.
You are talanted.
You are driven.
You are gifted.
You are considerate.
You are compassionate.
You are strong.
You are corageous.
You are

The Most Dangerous Game

Friendship, it seems, is nothing more than a nasty game of pollitics.  Maybe it's just my highschool student mantalitly, but trust doesn't come easy for me.  Maybe the world is really out to get me, but even I don't believe that's true.  Am I out to get me? Probably.  That "blood in the water" cliche holds so much truth.  Highschool is like being part of an experiment gone awry.  A gaggle of mad scientest (who's to say who's not mad?) have been plotting the destruction of future genorations for years and now their day of total conquest has arrived! Good ridence to the "best and the brightest," here it's a more primitive sort of selection.  We all got thrown into the shark tank before we could even test the water and now it's sink or swim, eat or be eaten.

I find it difficult to believe that it is my senior year and I'm just now grasping this concept.  Some crazy loon thought the best way to show us the darker side of friendship; the manipulative, sneaky, carry a knife with you always so you can stab someone in the back kind of friendship, would be total emmersion. 

Amature Pollitics 101: keep your friends close and you're enemies closer and sleep with one eye open.  Better yet, don't sleep at all- it keeps you on edge and ready for the attack.  Never take down your gaurd or abandon your post, it's safe there- the real world is filled with slimey polliticians that will do anything to get their way and if you want to survive it, you MUST be one of them.

There is no way around it.  Forget Mr. Nice Guy and Goody Two-Shoes- they're of no good to you now.  They are nothing more than memories of your own weakness and spinelessness.  GROW UP!  This is life we're living, you knew it would be like this so pick your jaw up off the ground.  Friends are for people that have already lost the game or that are trying desperately to win it.  Either way, they're useless to you.  When they break your heart it will only put them one step closer to what they really wanted and leave you choking in the dust.

Is this too harsh? I only say this out of love, right? But then maybe I am just trying to win.  Whatever, think what you must.  Set yourself up for disappointment, or don't even give it a chance.  It's up to you use this information in whatever way you see fitting.  As for me, I've already got it figured out.  I know what I'm doing.

Baking Project... just for funsies

You like?  This is the cake my older sister and I made FROM SCRATCH for her fiance.  Last week was their 5 year anniversary (dating) so we made his fave cake... sort of.  We started making it and realized that the strawberry jello mix we had was in molds in the fridge so we used cherry, but we had already whipped up the strawberry puree so it's cherry-strawberry flavored with cream-cheese frosting, which I personally don't know how people can stomach.  Cheese and sugar should never mix, but apparently it's really good.  Oh yes, and it's extra special because it's the first time either of us have made a double layer- we debated forever which way to stack it.  At the very least it was a good way to blow off some time.

Thinking day

Today has been a thinking day.  The last thought that went through my mind before I decided to write this entry was something like, 'I want people to give up on me, I wish they didn't care.'  I don't really know why but my best guess is it's something to do with the fact that my parents have given up on me.  I usually don't believe it, if a friend told me that her parents had given up on her I'd tell her they love her and they are just trying to do what's best, but it's not like that. 

I had to be civil with my parents today because my Papa is in town (the one person in my family that doesn't confuse me or my feelings.)  The entire day my mother found ways to insert indirect insults to me such as, "I can't seem tell anybody their make a mistake, they ignore me and screw up their lives anyways." I really would like to believe that her sole purpose in life isn't to make me cry myself to sleep and that she really does want me to get well and I hate that I care what she thinks because I know it's distorted. 

She is SO proud of my little sister and won't waste a moment not telling me that.  She actually managed to bring up musical and the scholarship I lost in the same sentence today then preceded to tell me not to worry to much because Nicole will get it for her.  It took everything I had not to run away crying- actually I probably would have if not for my 2 sisters blocking my way out.  If there is anything that makes me more uncomfortable than my mother it is being cornered or having someone look over my shoulder.  I can't explain it but sometimes I want to slap people in the face for breaking my bubble.

Ugh, it's been a really lame day and I wish it was over, I wish it was all over.

Recycling at it's best





So I spent three days snowed in with my friend and in the madness we decided to raid her art suppiles.  Long story short- she had a bag of broken clay and I decided to paint a little while she worked on a canvas.  Acrylics on clay :) fun fun.

Those malaprophisms getcha every time...

I really just felt like using a big word that few people understand in the title to catch peoples attention, other than it's complexity it serves no function (maybe irony) in this entry. I say irony because a malaprophism is, simply put, a misunderstood cliche or colloquialism, usually used by a naive child who just wants to sound like all the grown-ups.

A few days ago I went to the mall with a friend and her mother. My friend started bashing on her mom's bad behaviors such as running over children in the mall and telling them to get out of the way. This drew her to the conclusion that her mom "is the ebony of republicans." I figured it was okay to go ahead and laugh until I ran out of breath because she is my age and couldn't distinguish "ebony" and "epidomy." The next day in Latin she decided to brag to our teacher about how she uses "latter" and "former" correctly in conversations when we were learning about the "hic" "ille" charts... Oh well, I digress, I'm probally sticking my foot in my mouth writing this.

Oz has been overtaken by a freak snowstorm the last few days. The Ozians were not prepared. The blizard hit Monday night, Tuesday morning there was up to 3 feet of snow in some places. It was ridiculous, the plows couldn't even get out and the temp was frequently below zero. I stayed with another friend the past few days- I'm glad I got to be snowed in with her as opposed to anybody else, but I still had a nasty case of cabin fever. I couldn't blog and my cell phone battery was rapidly dying. I braves the snow today after spending hours digging with a garden shovel, pitcher, and rubbermaid lid to get her Mom's car out, then went on to rescue mine. Lucky me got to drive in the snow for the first time today by myself with a cell phone battery flickering in and out of consciousness. I got stuck 3 times, 2 of which some pretty awesome Ozians helped me out, the 1st time, however, I was on my own. It was absolutely terifying and I don't recomend it to anyone.

Anyways, I finally got computer access again and I'm stir crazy. It's 2 O'clock in the morning but I refuse to sleep. Not until I blog about some irrelavant topic long enough to get my brain to stop thinking about the relavant topics. That probally makes no since... if I'm doing pointless, extraneous activities then I don't have to be left alone with my thoughts. I just talk about junk until I can't stay awake anymore then I pass out, avoiding the whole 'being alone with your thoughts' mess (: I'm a mad genius, I know. Well, obviously the point of no return is approaching quickly and I'm sure I am boring you, dear reader, so I shall be going now... or maybe I'll watch some Salad Fingers. I love me some Salad Fingers!

You'd Be Suprised

For my favorite Aunt. I think of you everyday, I want you to know that I love you, I always have and I always will. This may suprise you, but I really do miss you...
You'd be surprised at all that I've become.
You'd be surprised, I've changed while you've been gone,
And I learned so much more from you than I could ever say.
If you were here, I think that you'd stay...

You'd be surprised how far these arms can reach.
You'd be surprised there's a promise I can keep.
Would you believe that I seldom fall to pieces anymore?
If you were here, you'd like what you saw.

You'd be surprised my life is often sweet.
You'd be surprised it's you who brings me peace...
And for some unearthly reason it takes losing you to see,
If you were here, I'd know just what you'd need.

You'd be surprised I've loved you all along.
You'd be surprised I now confess when I am wrong,
And I see the world around me in a slightly softer shade.
If you were here, you wouldn't walk away...

You'd be surprised if you were here...
We'd make time for all that's disappeared.
And I would hold you like I never could.
You'd be surprised if you were here...
We'd make it right; there'd be no tears,
And you'd confide in me and I'd be there.
I'd be there...

You'd be surprised at all that I've become...
You'd be surprised.

There's a fine line between love and hurting and knowing just when to walk away.

Today did not go well. I feel like the trash dumpster divers discard. Rejection is something we all have to face I suppose. This is just too much. I keep making myself believe that one of these days I might be good enough for somebody or something, but alas, failure. Even my revised essay got laughed at when my teacher read it to the class today.

There is a rather significant difference between wanting something and wanting something more than anything else in the world even though it is painfully obvious that you're just setting yourself up for disappointment. Being told you're not good enough SUCKS. Being told you're not good enough for the only thing in the world that truely matters to you feels like getting told to stop trying, to just give up. I wish, I wish, I wish with everything I own that people could see how much I care, yet all they see is laziness and irresposibility.

There's this song I heard when I was little,

Namesake to Elizabeth,
her daddy's pride and joy;
baptized in her mother's tears soon after she was born,
because the doctor said she'd never live to see her sweet 16,
it's a miracle she beat those odds
and there's still no promise she will see tomorrow...
and when she cries, she cries in slience,
but never for herself-
she cries for everybody else.

I wanted to be that girl who would never let the pain show, and who would always be taking care of others. I felt, feel, like that's the only way to deserve to live. Even when I was wishing with everything I have to get the role I wanted in the All-School-Musical, I was wishing with everything I have for my friends to get the parts they wanted as well. They got the parts the wanted... I'm left standing in the dark, completely forgotten. Oh well, that's what I've wanted all along isn't it? I guess theatre is that "exception" for me. It's my everything and now my everything is destroyed. I should have never let myself fall into the trap of hoping. I see now that it was a mistake. I just thought that maybe if I admited to myself how much I wanted this and I let myself believe that it could happen that others could see it too. I was horribly wrong.

And the cherry on top is that I found out 3 minutes later that my Girl Scout scholarship application was rejected as well. It didn't even phase me that I could NOT get that scholarship. I've been a very involved Girl Scout for 14 years... I'm 18! I guess everything happens for a reason; I would like to know what I did though so I could rite this.

"The Writer" by Richard Wilbur (b.1921) with commentary and introductory analysis

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and it's easy figure
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,
And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor
Of strokes, and is again is silent.

I remember the dazed starling
Which was trapped in that very room, 2 years ago;
How we stole in, lifted a sash

And retreated, not to affright it;
And how for a helpless hour, through the crack of the door,
We watched the sleek, wild, dark

And irridescent creature
Batter against the brilliance, drop like a glove
To the hard floor, or on the desk top,

And wait then, humped and bloody,
For the wits to try it again; and how our spirits
Rose when, suddenly sure,

It lifted off from a chair-back
Beating a smooth course for the right window
And clearing the sill of the world.

It is always a matter, my darling,
Of life or death, as I had forgotten. I wish
What I had wished for you before, but harder.

Isn't it beautiful? We read this today in AP Lanuage and it made today all the more bareable. I love the simplicity of the authors writing style, or maybe just the lack-there-os; seeing as the poem and the symbols within is anything but simple. We were told to take 5 minutes and write a thesis and opening paragraph in responce to the poem, mine isn't anything special and I plan on doing many revisions, but for now, I like what I came up with:

Many times throughout the struggle for life, or the journey to death, people find themselves abruptly taken back by the mundane tasks or sights of daily rituals and are forced to recall the epic story each life leaves behind.

As the author observes his daughters life from afar he remembers the starling trapped in the room, unable to fly away from the cruel realities of life. He watches from the slightly ajar door as the poor bird struggles to find an escape. Not without a great deal of pain, the bird finally finds a way out of the room that so unfairly took it captive. It found the freedom and the "lucky passage" everyone wishes for through it's own struggle and it's own path (or so we'd like to believe.) Sadly, I sopose, it is important to be noted that no matter how, or if, freedom finds us that it will always only be a matter of life or death.

"You're orginal, cannot be replaced."

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, ready to start again? Do you ever feel so paper thin, like a house of cards one blow from caving in? Do you ever feel already burried deep, six feet under- scream, but no one seems to hear a thing? Do you know that there's still a chance for you, cause there's a spark in you, you've just gotta ignite the light and let it shine, just own the night like the fourth of July.

Baby you're a firework, come on let your colors burst! Make them go, "oh! oh! oh!" as you shoot across the sky-y-y! Baby you're a firework, come on show them what you're worth! Make them go, "oh! oh! oh!" you're gonna leave them fallin down-own-own!!!

You don't have to feel like a waste of space, you're original, cannot be replaced. If you only knew what the future holds, after a hurricane comes a rainbow. Maybe the reason why all the doors are closed, so you can open one that leads you to the perfect road. Like a lightening bolt, your heart will blow, and when it's time you'll know you've just gotta ignite the light and let it shine, just own the night like the fourth of July.

Do one thing that scares you every day.

This is my first mobile post :) I think this is a good idea. I don't mean go bungee jumping, unless of course, you want to- just please don't forget the bungee chord. I do mean try something new, say your deepest, darkest secret out loud, try squid, or maybe finish your calc homework. Before you fall asleep at night, figure out what scary or challanging thing you're going to face tomorrow. Something besides just waking up. Goals give you something to work for, to fight for. So, when your long term goals seem out of reach or everything is too much of a mess to fix just screw it all and start something new.

I hope I'm able to take my own advice here. I'm feeling somewhat inspired so I thought I'd record my good feelings while they last so I can turn to them later. I think I like this blog... Well, I will until it gets me into trouble. I really have no idea where this is going so I'm just going to leave it at that.

Oh, and for any hard core readers looking for a fun book, try "Girl Inturpted" by Susanna Kaysen or "Dancer" by Colum McCann. I'm at Barnes and Noble right now reading up a storm :)

My cheerleaders

I'm feeling a little bit better today, I got to talk to some very missed people.  It turns out that I actually do have some people there to stand by me, even if they are hundreds of miles away.  It's nice to know that those people who shoot me down aren't going to be attacking me my whole life, they'll find new targets eventually, but my cheerleaders are here to stay and I am too.  One day at a time- that's how I'm going to play it from here on out.  I'll get through this, if not for me, than for my cheerleaders.

heads up

Have you ever felt completely useless? Have you had those days when you think to yourself, "If someone told me I had a terminal illness I would be glad it's almost over?"  All of us are bound to have these thoughts sometime or another in our lives.  Some of us have them more often than other, some of us earlier on than others.  Regaurdless, when that day comes we are able to get through it by telling ourselfs about this "greater purpose" blah, blah, blah. I used to buy into that, but lately it just seems like I'll always be worthless.  When you ask people what they think of you they tell you that you're beautiful, or caring and you know they're just being nice- only pretending- and PARENTS, don't even get me started, they only say they love you because you're their child and you're their obligation.  Deep down inside them you're nothing but a lazy, undeserving, disappoinment of a daughter.

Sometimes you feel like that ALL THE TIME.  You run away from home, you push yourself to the edge of the earth and you want nothing more than to jump off.  Sometimes you want that escape so badly that you create that terminal illness, you push yourself so far that you literally become sick, then there's no turning back.  The illness is your only friend, the only one you can truely trust to not let you down.  Then you find out it's real.... you really are dying, but WAIT- there's a cure, why would you want it? You wanted this right? You deserve this!  It's not about dying anymore, just about suffering, you're a disgrace, you bring dishonor to everyone, your a reject- the runt turned away from even the buther because you are worth nothing.  You're a waste of oyxgen, of space, and of time.

What next?  So they told you your diagnosis.... it's not what the average person would call "ideal" but I'm no average person.  I'm not "emo" or "goth" or "punk" or "rockabilly" or any of those styles that dictate my personality.  In reality, I am pretty upbeat, cheerful, deceiving, and fun to be around.  I understand all too well how to approach just about every social personality, I could fit into just about any clique.  I've recently been asked who I am, seems pretty simple right? Wrong! I have no idea who I am, what do I want, what do I do for fun? Why do I have friends who break my heart? Why am I afraid of living?  I fit everywhere because I can paint myself into any picture, where ever I may be there will always be a little extra room for the fly on the wall; the one that's just there.... nobody minds, nobody pays attention to, nobody deserves to have to waste their time caring for the fly on the wall.

So death is knocking on my doorstep- if I had a doorstep.  I ran away many months ago just before I got my diagnosis, since then I've been living from couch to couch of good friends and I've recieved a few more diagnosis.  No set time frame yet, still waiting to get an MRI and EPG... somedays I do want to get better, but for now, I want to embrace the pain, I've caused so much pain and Karma is getting revenge.  I want to take what I deserve.  Right now, this fly doesn't even deserve the wall to rest on.