to be or not to be

today went smoothly as in emotionally but after i came home, i soon found myself alone and realized once again the depth of that loneliness.  i still have my family, although relationships are still broken and awkward.  i still have my health, least for the most part.  i still have my wits about me, well maybe just sort of.  i have *, who i love dearly.  although they are all necessities of my life, i continue to feel incomplete.  there is the emptiness of myself.  i haven’t been able to or maybe not tried hard enough to fill myself with my own happiness.  i think about those who are happy with friends and those who are sad with friends and envy them.  this emptiness cuts me more than any razor could.  i feel stupid for feeling weak and just not being stronger.  i never learned to be strong, which i suppose is no excuse.  being able to provide an argument against everything i say just makes me confused.  it’s getting so hard to keep living.  i’m just sick of living like this, sick of hoping.   i’m terrified.

hypomania or maybe not?

i can’t shake this feeling since i’ve gotten home from work.  it’s making me want to blow my brains out (not literally).  first of all, i got chest pains again.  nowadays more often.  ugh they’re coming back in a vengence.  maybe it means i have heart disease and will drop dead tomorrow morning on the way to work.  i also have had a huge migraine.  the chest pains were fortunately short-lived.  i can’t say the same for the migraine.  die migraine, die!  i’ve been increasingly irritable as the night wears on.. maybe that’s why i kept snapping at my boyfriend.  my head’s just in a whirlwind right now.  so dizzy and tired, but can’t sleeppp.  keep dropping my head onto the corner of the desk about to sleep and BAM, the wave of dizziness hits me.  my heart’s also pounding like crazy.  great, anxiety of god knows what on top of everything else.  need to cut so i can just think of something else.  can’t breathe. 

//edit// i think i’ve just gone through a manic episode, mild but it didn’t feel that way.  as you can probably tell from my ramblings above, that’s how it started.  course for the last three hours, i felt like i was asleep, in another world.  i’m pretty sure i was acting crazy, saying stuff, laughing for no apparent reason, and talking jibberish to * over the phone and ** cracking up.  * got fed up and told me to go to sleep.  i just laid in bed staring at the ceiling until i fell into a dreamlike state that didn’t feel like sleep.  eventually, my body ended up shaking a bit, uncontrollably.  i just had to grab myself out of bed and throw myself back into reality.  finally, i “woke” up and now am a bit scared of the dark as well as scared of myself… slightly more awake and slightly more drained…

in need of a little lemon throwing…

earlier tonight, i hadn’t realized when i fell asleep or that i was even tired?  it could have been due to being hyper.  i was screaming jokingly at * in jealous fits of rage.  i guess i was really jealous, but also hyper to the point of not being able to stop myself after some time.  i also decided to start singing, badly, the music i heard in the backround.  other than those, i don’t remember what we talked about.  i knew that that hyperness would inevitably take me down, as it always does.  somehow i was asleep for maybe three hours when i woke up abruptly with all my things laying on my bed.  i debated whether or not to go back to sleep and decided against it on the chance that i might get a headache from sleeping too much the next morning (or more accurately this morning).  i decided to wrap a present (damn when will christmas be over with?!?!) and read some posts.  i instead spent the first hour crying for unknown reasons, but i finally got to what i was gonna do.  unfortunately and fortunately i have become addicted to reading posts on wordpress!  just now, i’ve been reading posts by PA.  don’t worry, i’m not a stalker, just an avid blog reader :-).  anyway, i just really like this one thing she wrote on this post.  “If life gives you lemons, throw them back at the fucker who gave them to you in the first place. Hard.”  there are people who are really good quoting others, can pull them out of their asses at the most perfect times, but i am not one of them.  although i admit so, i love this quote because i feel like some people take advantage and feel the right to do so when they don’t.  i may not be a saint, but there are times when i wish people would care a little, appreciate me…  i don’t want to keep hoping.  anyway, i’d like to throw some fucking lemons right now.

driving stinks!

this is going to be a dumb post, but i felt like i had to get it off my chest for my own sake.  i really hate driving and if it weren’t for the fact that i can’t get anywhere without doing it, i wouldn’t.  ever since i started learning to, i’ve had bad experiences (least i think so).  and for me, i remember almost all bad experiences, no matter how minor in retrospective.  what was even worse about learning to drive was that my father was my driving instructor.. so called driving instructor.  let me tell you that someday i will write a post about the awkward and hateful relationship between my father and i.  i was never sexually abused or anything like that, but the current status of the relationship is still warranted.  anyway, since i never wanted to learn, it took me till freshman year of college to get my ass going in the car.  i hadn’t started college yet, but he and i had a driving session that took place from my house to my college and back.  the tension of course was there.  the drive to the college was bumpy and annoying, but slightly bearable.  coming home was a different story.  he had been berating me relentlessly, due to me not wanting to listen to him, about it being important to getting to school and whatnot.  i made some more mistakes and he continued his stupid ranting.  we were down the street from my house and i finally blew up.  i sped recklessly up to my house and pulled the car into the driveway so quick, i think ** were scared.  i did a good job, to say the least.  i got out of the car and stormed into the house with, of course, him bitching behind me.  i wasn’t really hearing it, only the anger from my own ears.  from my bedroom, i could hear him screaming at my mother about my driving.  my heart was beating almost out of my chest.  i don’t remember what i did, but that i hadn’t cried.

this brings me to today.  getting out of the parking lot at my work is such a hassle.  have to make a left and there’s always enough cars on that street to create a problem and no traffic light of course.  the other day i got honked because i didn’t make the turn out fast enough and today i almost sideswiped a car… swear i did not see it… or did not imagine that it would get there that fast.  like anytime i do something wrong, my heart was pounding and guilt filled me up quick.  i felt bad i almost hit the poor guy or girl!  i kept thinking about how angry and surprised that person must was.  i felt an immediate rush to cut myself, but had nothing to do that with since i was driving.  ended up just scratching and pinching my arm until i created some little marks, which is no where satisfying.  i wanted to cry, but couldn’t.  almost the rest of the day, i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it which is a common occurence. 

what’s even worse than being wreckless and plain sucking at driving is that i’m one of those mild road rage types.  i hate it when other drivers drive slow when they have no one in front of them, hate it when they glare at you when they’re the ones who made a mistake, and especially hate other road rage drivers (yeah i know).  i haven’t stopped to get out of my car and go over to punch someone in the face, but who’s to say someday i won’t turn into one of those people?  i have been proven to be violent and unpredictable of the silent type.  silent but deadly? ha… okay this is nothing to joke about.  another relevant problem is that i have a tendency to get sleepy-eyed, to put it mildly, driving at night.  it really does feel about the same as driving drunk, which i haven’t done before.  it’s just that i can’t leave early, i can’t leave the next morning, i’ve got no one to drive me, but still gotta get myself home so what am i supposed to do?  this just sounds like insensible reasoning from someone like Britney Spears or Paris Hilton. ACK. 

i don’t know that writing this post has made me feel any better, but i’m sorry to that person i almost hit!  OH, and anyone who sees a crazy, aggressive, but scared and sleepy driver, don’t get near me… this seems like the time to insert a quiz with some title like “What kind of Driver Are You?”, but let’s not get overboard here.

fear

i miss not being fearful of the dark, not being afraid of my own shadow/reflection.  it’s remarkable how things like fear can just manifest when your emotions are turned upside down.  i dont think i’ve been so afraid of stupid things since i became depressed.  fear is just something in your head and can only be overcome when you’re strong enough mentally to.  i’m definitely not there yet.  the strong winds today made me think about it.  i realize that i’m still afraid of looking into the darkness of my backyard, but still dream of being wrapped in it.  i’m so strange that way.  so indecisive.  always need both ways.. so damn needy really, which is something i really need to work on.  need to put that on my checklist aside from whining and bitchiness ha (not doing so well at right now).  would be so much easier if i could put a lid on my emotions…funny to imagine everyone with a literal can of emotions..

really fucked up.  any opportunity to make a friend or even keep one, i manage to screw it up.  all i can do about it?  let it stay fucked up!  really, i don’t understand why i can’t get a handle on it.  perhaps, counseling is the only option i have in getting better but my own problems are stopping me from seeking help.  hate when things turn cyclical and i get caught up in some neverending torture of self-pity.  self-pity has become very destructive in my getting better.  what’s worse, it’s the cyclical kind.

blah, not even officially winter and i have the mad blues.  i can’t wait for spring to arrive.  i love flowers blooming, the warmth from the sun’s rays hitting my skin, and bright blue skies.  so beautiful.  hopefully, i’m be more lively then, but that’s months from now.  just have to last until then.  hopefully, i’ll get to bed before 4 a.m.

music and art

lately, i’ve been very depressed.  it’s not even like something triggered it nor that i realized it was happening.  everything seemed to be going well, but now for at least the past month, i have felt crummy about myself.  i think that during those couple of years that i was doing well, i just seemed to forget about myself, about trying to fix my problems.  the self-harm and suicidal thoughts have intercepted my life once again so i haven’t been sleeping well.  every day i try not to self-harm and while for the most part have succeeded, it is very tough.  perhaps i was never addicted and that i am in more control of it than i previously thought, but i look at it as not wanting to submit to that part of my life, not wanting to erase any changes that i have committed to.  back to the title of this entry, i feel like both of these are my saviors and my sentencers.  art was always a favored hobby of mines, but for the most part have not done any since high school.  i regret not having put some effort into that potential career.  art gave me something to focus on, something to keep my mind off of the things going wrong with my life, going wrong within myself.  i feel that, now, it is gone from me and i terribly miss it.  i feel no energy or passion for it anymore, just the reminiscence of fond memories while helping my sister on her school projects.  at the same time i know art has just allowed me to forget about finding myself.  as for music, although i don’t play an instrument or write music or know many songs, i feel that listening to music in general makes me feel real.  the words might mean nothing to me and frankly, i may not even hear them, but when i hear music, i feel something within myself that i can’t get anywhere else.  when i hear classical music, i can see myself literally standing on the stage of the orchestra, feeling the music beat in my heart.  when i listen to the songs on my ipod, likewise i see myself in some dramatic scene from a movie, very in the moment, and away in some life unaffected by my actions.  for instance, right now i’m listening to LP.  i don’t know what this song is about.  i can’t even describe in words what i’m feeling from it, but i know physically in me what i feel is real.  my eyes are closed, my heart feels as if to rise, and i wish for that familiar but wonderful chill that moves through my body to stay.  on the other hand, music puts me in a certain mood as much as my mood deciding on the music.  like clockwork, if i listen to something low toned, soft, and slow, it is almost a guarantee that i will end up crying and in need of some self-harm to get rid of it.  ah well, music and art can’t solve my problems.  ack, when will i get better?