why can’t things just be simple?

this morning, i awoke in a haze to hearing my parents arguing.  soon my mom left to go to work and i could only manage that somewhat sleeping somewhat awake state.  i was sitting up in bed and my dad walked in.  put his sweaty hand on my back and proceeded to tell me that he was going to work.  “okay, bye,” i said expressionless and without looking.  this is the usual response.  as if i cared that he was leaving.  i shook off the sweaty feeling on my back and was about to write a post about how he annoyed me, but somehow got distracted.  i should have known that this day would have eventually ended up in the gutter. 

by early afternoon, it was decided that my sister and i were going to go on a shopping trip.  this made for a pleasant afternoon.  i love how shopping gets your mind off things, even if for only a few hours.  evening went fine with watching national geographic clips with her.  dad came home at the usual 10:00 p.m.  and everything went downhill from there. 

i had to touch his dirty cell phone to put in some numbers into his phonebook.  then, he started talking to me about him buying a house and renting rooms out.  he mentioned that my name was going to be added.  i was outraged to say the least.  he could have fucking bothered to ask me before deciding.  i told him this.  “i’m asking you now,” he said.  “don’t add my name.” he replied with some excuse.  “don’t add my name,” i repeated.  i asked him other questions, tight-lipped, like isn’t it going to… and aren’t you going to have to… and what if… i was getting more information, but i was not about ready to add some potential problems to my plate.   seriously, what fucking right does he have to assume that i will follow him around all willy nilly, wanting to do the things that he wants to do?  i also have a serious problem with people thinking that i should do certain things because everyone else is doing them, that they seem to be things done out of love when those same people have no problem with taking short cuts and recommend acts that are technically illegal even if minor.  yes, i have a fear of the law.  i am fucking afraid of doing things because i might be caught even though i most likely won’t be.  so quit pressuring me and stop being so damn selfish and ignorant. 

for me, i don’t need many things to be happy, just the important things.  i want and prefer things to be simple.  i don’t need a fancy car, a big house, alot of friends, or a $50,000+ job.  it sounds so cliche, but it is true.  money really just ruins relationships with others and yourself.  all i will be able to think about is the money because i have been trained by my family, by people i know, and by the media because that is what matters in america.  if that is not what they intended, they certainly did a shitty job of it.  i would absolutely be content with having a car that worked the way it was supposed to and got me around, a small house or nice apartment, a few friends, and a job that was enough for my living expenses and to save and a little extra to dine out and shop.  i would want my family and relatives to be happy.  i would be happy with waking up with my boyfriend, going to work on the weekdays, and coming home to him to watch tv or dine out or do something in the city, and on the weekends we would go to the city and have cultural experiences.  the only extravagant thing i would like is to be able to travel.  otherwise, i want things to be simple.  i want my life to be simple. 

so i had two choices, which was either to have every future day anxiety ridden and he get his way or to not have additional issues on my plate and instead, have to look from the hallway railing at his sorry self on the couch watching tv every night.  not once did i look at him.  i can’t ever look at his face.  i chose neither and told him to consult my mom.  he finally left and i was finally allowed to breathe.  only moments later, my mom came home and nothing would go well the rest of the night.  i heard them arguing through the walls.  if only walls could speak, what pain they would show. 

so when will i ever do something that will change the situation?  will i wait until someone gets physically hurt or someone will be killed?  i live in fear that one day i will find myself bloody, not from my own accord, and running from my house, through the backyard, and screaming on a neighbor’s front step that they’re all dead, that i’m the one left alive to tell the story.

hopefully, i am too tired to cut right now.  earlier i thought it was overwhelming.  luckily, i have calmed down a bit in the last hour.  then again, it’s only half past midnight.

wild wild west meets country

let me write about my dream before i forget it all..

ugh what i just wrote i accidentally erased… really annoying just want to break this computer!

i was in a small old shopping center that seemed to resemble those saloons from the old days in the west.  i m ean the walls were made out of wood, the floor was made out of wood, and there were even cowboys walking around.  the bartender even wore a white shirt buttoned to his neck, a black apron, one of those texas necklaces hung around his neck, and small frames rested on the bridge of his nose as we wiped the glass mugs on the counter.  the few shops that were there were actually quite empty.  it seemed that everyone was eating in the saloons.  someone came by in a rush with a little girl, maybe 8 years old, and gave me the task of watching her until the boss came by to pick her up.  for some reason, the girl and i were both dressed normally, not like cowgirls.  anyway i walked around with her, and soon, she grew real bored of me.  she started running away from me and bugging other people who were there.  i kept trying to catch her.  i also was in a dire need to go to the bathroom.  i wondered if i could hold out because i couldn’t bring her with me.  i looked around for a bathroom.  when i found one, it was closed!   it actually had some kind of lock on it where you had to slide a card through it to get in.  i tried asking the bartender and he didn’t respond.  then, my brother had entered the picture and i told him what i was doing.  he was an employee there.  he said he had the card to the bathroom, but he wasn’t on his shift so he couldn’t use it.  this was stupid.  the boss had arrived which was the same time someone let on that there was another bathroom around the corner.  unfortunately, i never made it.  i took the girl to him, but apparently i was going to.

next thing i know, i was in some kind of hospital, not high tech and it was in the west.  i stood over the bed to look at the patient.  it was a girl a few years older than the girl i had watched earlier and a few years younger than me.  her skin was pale and she was breaking out with a fever; the sweat glistened on her face and neck.  her eyes, though closed, would squint every once in awhile.  i brushed the hair off her forehead.  i asked the doctor what she had.  of course, he didn’t know.  maybe she caught something.  the little girl and the boss came by to see how she was.  they were worried about her.  i think they were my family.  the little girl and the patient were my sisters.  a girl friend my age also dropped by to send her condolences like my sister was going to die or something.  i told her, “she will be fine.” “are you sure?  this seems serious,” she replied.  i looked back at my sister in confusion.  i became flustered.  everyone, the doctor, the nurses, and my family members, were talking around me about the situation.  i just wanted to leave and get some fresh air.

soon enough, i left with the girl friend and we sat in some kind of interrogation room, but this is the one that you might see in an FBI facility.  she sat across from me.  i pulled out a series of pages and started reading.  “that’s not going to help.  what is that going to do,” she said to me.  i stopped listening to her and continued to read from the pages, repeating at times.  we went back to the hospital after a few hours and low and behold, my sister was waking up!  “it had worked!” i told myself.  my sister still was not talking.  i touched her forehead and she immediately tried to push my hand away.  she shook her head fervently as if to cry out no.  she tried to talk, to maybe warn me, but couldn’t.  i walked away, a bit confused.  no one else noticed.  i walked down the dirt path and pass the wooden cabin with the porch.  it was a beautiful blue sky but the sun seemed to get bigger.  its rays were really beaming down on me.  i was getting really hot and lightheaded.  i felt my skin and it was burning.  i started to sweat all over.  i continued to walk, and suddenly i collapsed on the dirt path.  my eyes were closed and my head spun.  i felt the rocks beneath my body, but couldn’t get myself up.  i was basically paralyzed, physically and mentally.  i black out for a bit before waking up in the wooden cabin that i had seen earlier. 

i laid in a cot and an old fat indian lady was hovering me.  the many wrinkles on her tough tan skin showed her age.  her gray hair in a bun was tinseled with white.  she had the typical feathers and indian jewelry on her.  she worse things of different colorful fabrics.  neither of us tried to say anything.  i was still sweating and quite sick, but i was awake.  she fed me something and not before long, i felt rejuvenated.  i literally jumped out of the cot and ran out the door.  she stared at me as i went.  it felt so good.  i skipped up the path in such a jolly mood.  i heard from off in the distance, my friend screaming my name.  while i ran up the hill i saw the blue sky once again, but this time it wasn’t extremely hot.  it was beautiful actually.  i heard birds chirping and i saw more and more green grass, taller green grass.  i felt a cool breeze and it was delicious.  i followed the sounds of the birds to this large meadow.  there were groups of different colored roses all over.  i went ahead and picked out a yellow one and placed in my hair behind my right ear.  my friend finally had caught up, “what are you doing?? you can’t pick those!”  i said, “why the hell not?”  and skipped into the meadow.  she had to chase me down.  everthing just smelled so nice and it was such a beautiful day that i felt so happy!  then, this old couple looked at us from their cottage.  the woman had a dress filled with tiny blue flowers on and a white apron on top.  the man had on a dirty white shirt and faded blue denim overalls on top.  he did not have a pitchfork.    my friend tried to stop me and that didn’t work.  the man called us over.  i looked at her and she looked back at me.  i headed over.  “wait!” she cried.  she proceeded to follow me.  i followed the couple into the cottage.  there were stacks of paper with text on them all over the cottage.  i was amazed by them.  another guy came out, younger and must have been their son.  he was blind.  he put his hands over the sheets of paper and read them like braille.  “look for any papers with power wire written at the type and put them aside,” the old man ordered us.  we did so and his son did so too.  “why do we have to do this?” i asked.  “do you want to die?” the old man asked in a nonthreatening manner.  it was more like doing it would save my life.  i looked at my friend and she looked right back at me.

then i woke up.  my head is spinning right now.  i should have waited a little before typing, but then i would have forgotten it all.  i basically forget the nightmare that i had right before this one about being chased by giant bully in the wildnerness on the side of a mountain.  so what do you think the dream means?

only two..

all day i have been moody; someone even told me so.  i guess i should have took it as a sign, but i attributed the moodiness to being me.  a few hours ago, not even three hours ago, i went downhill fast.  the thoughts of suicide weren’t overwhelming, but constant.  i just sat here for three hours doing absolutely nothing, but staring and listening to music.  i tried to comment some people’s blogs, but i found it almost impossible to type something.  halfway through the first sentence, i would stare at the screen and my fingers frozen waiting for something to happen..  i closed my eyes tightly, only to open them to nothing different.  i got fed up and swiveled around in my chair to face my open closet.  it didn’t help because i started seeing things.  i could have sworn i saw someone with dark hair in my closet even though i kept trying to tell myself it was probably just my clothes… just my clothes.  i started crying and have not stopped. 

 i suppose i should put a trigger warning here even though it’s really nothing, but i dont want a complaint so here *trigger warning*

nor could i help the overwhelming need to self-harm.  i went to my original instrument, a mechanical pencil, which is much easier and convenient.  you can go at your arm as much as you want, not having to worry about hitting a blood vessel or leaving long-term scars.  i was glad to see a little blood rush to the skin’s surface and the swelling surrounding it.  it was only two scratches, not bad at all right?  i have been scratching myself with my nails a few times so it’s just like that…  i did, with all my might, not go to the exacto knife.  i didn’t want to start something i was not going to be able to stop.  freaking damn.. i’m having the same problem not being able to type right now.  closing my eyes and the music just seems to get louder and louder.  i want to scream, but i can’t.  the stinging from the cuts are wearing off too fast.  i have a cut that’s on my leg, that i don’t know where i got it from, and that has been stinging for days.  why is it that when a cut is unintentional, it often hurts more than those intentional?

i’m going to look like shit tomorrow.

it’s a showdown

Finally had a nightmare.  Although I hadn’t expected it, which is probably why I had one.

Part 1:

The setting was always dark or cast in low light and taken place in one day.  I was at some type of school?  I knew and was friends with this group of people, a group that looked nothing like the group I hung out with in high school or any other time for that matter.  It was easy to see that I got along with them.  Next thing I remember is that I ran up this wide road to catch up to them, who had their backs turned to me and walking next to each other side by side.  I turned this one particular guy, maybe mexican or spanish, stocky, and normally gentle, around.  He said,”What??”  I was shocked by his curtness.  I tried to ignore it and be friendly.  He, as well as they, continued to push me away.  I didn’t understand.  He suddenly shoved me with a push to the chest.  “Hey!” I cried.  I shoved him back.  He shoved me harder.  I shoved him equally as hard.  The students had already gathered around us to see what was going on.  The pushing went back and forth until I quit.  I let them go.  The ring of students broke so that they could leave.  I saw them walk away until they disappeared over the road into the fog.

Part 2:

It was night.  My best friend (who does not exist) and I was standing on the rooftop of a brick residential building of maybe a couple of stories.  “How about that one?” she asked me.  “Nah, it’s so boring and plain,” I replied.  We were staring into an almost empty room of someone who had recently moved out in the apartment across from the one that we were standing on.  “How come you found such a great place?”  “I don’t know,” I said without letting on that it wasn’t such a great place.  She wasn’t aware of this, and she moved on to point to another room.  Every one of them, I would answer that they were not the right one or there was a possibility.  Still, she did not notice anything amiss.  By this time in the nightmare, I realized that we were in Manhattan.  The abundance of posh apartments was a dead give away.  She finally saw one that she absolutely loved.  I gave her a maybe.  The longer she stared at it, the more she wanted it.  As I started to see that, I tried with all my might to lure her away.  My efforts were fruitless.

Part 3:

 The next part took place back at my apartment, more like the building in which I resided.  The two story Manhattan apartment, which was actually more like a house, belonged to a young, trendy gentleman.  There was a long, white spiral stairway with a wooden banister leading from the first floor to the second floor.  Upstairs, the space was completely open so all the rooms could be seen from any vantage point.  I half sat, half laid down on the bench outside one of the rooms with one leg swinging.  I heard people chattering.  As the sound grew louder, a group of people were led upstairs by the gentleman on a tour of the house.  Reason was unknown.  The group consisted of mostly men.  (This seems to be one common theme in my nightmares.  I should probably address this one day.)  Anyway, they stared at me and I stared back.  Before I knew it, they charged at me.  This time, unlike my other nightmare, each one felt MY wrath.  I pummelled them with my fists, kicked them over, and knocked each one down like bowling pins.  I was heaving, but I felt mighty proud of myself.  I was some kind of mutant, maybe something similar to those in X-Men.  I’m sure my heart was racing while I dreamt this. 

Part 4:

I crouched down in the pitch blackness of the apartment.  From below, I overheard the guy’s phone conversation.  “Oh, she’s gone.”  Short pause.  “No, no.  I have her locked down there.  She shouldn’t be a problem.”  Long pause.  Meanwhile, I was moving through the darkness so that I could hear him better.  Still crouched.  “Yes, of course, it is ashame what happened earlier.  She is crazy, insane really.  I only took her in because I needed her.”  I bit my lip.  I teared up.  “I’m getting ready right now.  See ya later.”  Short pause. “Yeah, bye.”  I heard him push the off button on the phone.  I bit my lip harder, tasted a little blood, and slinked closer.  I heard him put his belt on, the metal pieces clinking against another.  Soon enough, I was at the foot of the stairs.  His shadow grew long as it came down the stairs.  Hunched in the darkest corners, staring intently, angry with rage, I waited for my prey.  He would get no mercy from me.

And that was the end of my nightmare.  I only wish I got to find out the ending, but I had work this morning which woke me up.  Interesting eh?

family dinner

okay so my grandparents were over and the entire family is home together for the first time in, i don’t know how long, but i can assure you that it never goes well.  i came home from work and of course, “Oh, you look so thin.  Don’t you ever eat?” is asked of me by my grandmother.  Same question that irks me everytime.  I eat, people!  (Be careful how you read that; I am not a cannibal.)  Eventually, dinnertime comes around.  Everyone’s sitting around the table with their heads down or looking around, anywhere but at each other.  My grandparents may be annoying and have done some really hurtful things in the past (some that I don’t remember and only hear stories about.. one-sided story at that), but they have grown to be rather soft and loving in their old age.  This is especially true of my grandmother.  I really can’t help, but smile at her cheery moods.  The rest of my family, minus my father, has real problems with them.  I suppose that I have resolved some of my anger with them or maybe I never cared at all.  Someone just convinced me to be angry and resentful, which I am still trying to figure out how much truth there is to this.  I never thought that I would have changed in that way.  Anyway, my siblings would talk back sarcastically in English, which my grandparents do not understand at all.  Their immature teenage behavior really pissed me off.  At the same time, I understand their resentments toward them.  Unfortunately, I am stuck in the middle, trying to love one group of people at the price of trying to love my grandparents in secret.  As this parallels my emotions, things will go back and forth, never to rest. 

what continues to confuse me is how i can “forgive” my grandparents, but can not “forgive” my father for his wrongs.  does he not deserve the opportunity?  i feel guilty in denying this to him, but what validation do i have of my own feelings if i do..?  i am thoroughly sickened by this family environment.  i am an outcast in this world, an outcast at work, and an outcast in my own family with rarely a person to relate.  i am trapped in this cycle as well as neck deep in self-pity.  i still stand where i was the day i decided i wanted to die.  only now, i sit tight-lipped, listening to “Pull Me Out Alive” by Kaki King, and wanting to end it.

wind against my face

i have been feeling like a complete failure and dangerously dead inside as of last night and today.  suicidal idealization has also become rampant in my thoughts of late, perhaps even a bit obsessively.  when a couple of the bad nightmares returned with the weird sensation earlier in the week, i started craving for them.  and unsuccessfully, the last three nights have brought none making me feel, again, a complete failure. 

i went to the park with my sister so that she could take photos of me for her photography class, which i didn’t mind much.  we went to the creek that was there and that we were so familiar with, the one that my mind was so familiar with.  i saw the bright sunlight shining through the branches of the bare trees and listened to the water lapping over the moss covered rocks.  i would dip my shoes into the cool water and the familiar chills went through me.  for those brief moments, i felt happy.  i don’t want anyone to be confused about what i mean by happy.  i’m not referring to the happiness between my lover and i.  i am talking about the happiness with oneself.  i can sure be happy with someone and still not be happy with myself, even if at times it seems impossible.  anyway, i became a bit hyper.. skipping from rock to rock, not really worried about falling in.  the parts that we were at, the creek water was too shallow to drown in.  i know where it isn’t; and i thought about going in.  actually, i used to think about it quite often… becoming soaking wet, waiting for the dark, cold water to fill my lungs, gasping for air..  yes, i know that it would not be an easy death, especially since i can not swim.  already, while i am writing this post, i close my eyes and drift somewhere else.

that was the first suicidal idealization of the day.  the second occurred driving home tonight.  it has been unseasonably warm the last two days, which i thoroughly enjoyed don’t get me wrong.  i opened the windows in the car and felt the wind against my face.  i felt the happiness and lightness from earlier in the day.  only this time, the need to jump off the bridge was almost overwhelming.  i wanted to close my eyes and not remember.  course i didn’t or else, this post would not exist. 

*sighs*  i love this group, PlayRadioPlay!  i have to admit, though, that it is making me even more depressed.  i think it’s time for me to climb under the warm covers, put on my earphones, cut and cry away.

the question should be “how many?”

Results: What mental disorder do you have?

Your results for this quiz have been calculated and are presented below:

What mental disorder do you have? Your Result: GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) You can never seem to calm down and always feel anxious for unknown reasons. You tend to not be able to concentrate and have headaches or other anxiety symptoms. Manic Depressive OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) Paranoia ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder)

these are the actual results from a quiz that i found on http://fadingstar86.wordpress.com/2008/03/09/just-so-i-can-whinge/ (hope it’s okay that i put your link here.. heh).  i also commented on her site that i found it pretty accurate.  and you know what? it doesn’t make it any easier to accept these things that i already know about myself.  i think these quizzes merely serve as reinforcement for choices we’ve already made.  so blah to quizzes!!

left beaten

i had yet another nightmare last night, well Wednesday night, and it wasn’t pretty… maybe that’s why i didn’t get any good sleep and was tired all day.

part 1:

The setting is a large, open, and extravagant mansion, one you might see in that tv show Cane.  I felt like I was on the set, though I’ve never watched an episode.  The “mob boss”, who resembled Sonny from General Hospital with the black hair and the anger management issues, entered through the back sliding doors.  Everyone stopped in their tracks.  He greeted a few of the guards with a smile, handshake, and offisde comment.  Then, he came to me and said, “Here!”  He handed me $50 in tens.  I took it immediately, but upon thinking about my action, handed back 4 tens.  “No, no.  Take the whole thing,” he said.  I replied,”Oh, I can’t.  I appreciate it, but I will only take ten; that is enough.”  I hugged the ten dollar bill to my chest.  He patted my head and left.

Part 2:

I was still at the house, but in a different room.  There was a small gathering or party going on.  Everyone was sitting down eating and drinking.  The only material thing I can actually remember is the big drink dispenser with enough fruit cocktails for everyone.  I got one for myself and sat in between a guy and a girl, both with drinks already in their hands.  I was clumsy; I almost knocked over the girl’s drink.  I apologized, but she told me, “No need to!”  We made small talk.  In other words, I was all but myself.  I soon realized that I was doing something wrong because the “mob boss” came in and slapped me across the cheek.  At that time, I realized that I was his wife in the nightmare.

Part 3:

I was stunned and cowering in front of him.  The slap stung, but I wasn’t worried about it as he pulled me aside violently.  I was scared of him then, hurt, and embarrassed that everyone was watching the scene unfold.  He led a painful assault, slapping me several more times, pulling me by the collar to be close enough to his dark face that I felt his screams and seemingly incoherent ramblings reverbating my being.  I stared straight at the large, colored tiles on the opposite wall.  Some of them had pictures or something on them that I don’t remember the significance now.  I didn’t cry or cry out.  And as suddenly as he had entered, he stopped hitting.  He wiped the blood dribbling out of the corner of my mouth and stared at me solemnly for a moment.  He apologized curtly, upon which he left.  Everyone turned away as if I might not have known they were watching, but I knew.  I tried acting normal, cleaning and scrubbing the marble floors (which doesn’t seem normal in itself, as this was a party).  A guy walked over to help and asked if I was okay.  I nodded, although no one believed it i’m sure.  He tried to make me laugh; I was grateful for his helpful spirit, but I hated the pity.

Afterthought:

If I wasn’t being abused, would they have cared or worried about me then?  If I didn’t know the people in the house, would they have taken a second look or tried to help?  As I continue to write blogs about my feelings, will anyone notice them?  Might they affect someone how they have affected me?  This whole thing about writing and wanting to feel beat up makes me think that when I self-harmed, it was in part, due to attention-seeking pains.

i just woke up from a 3 or 4 hour nap, actually awaken by a phone call.  I was in the middle of another nightmare, which now is a distant memory.  I can’t recall anything from it.  too bad, i would have another post for tomorrow.

neverending nightmare

i fell asleep relatively early last night, actually collapsed on my bed at midnight after getting home.  perhaps long after that, i was in one of my bad dreams.  i believe this since my nightmares are actually really short compared to how long they feel like to me.  i remember that me and my siblings were being rushed to the train station by my grandparents for reasons now forgotten.  my siblings were yards ahead of me so i pointed them to go left, not realizing that i sent them to the wrong train.  when realizing my mistake, i run up to the booth and ask the lady if i can get them because they were going to get on the wrong train.  she wouldn’t let me!  i begged and pleaded.  soon, i started yelling and crying at her.  i actually had a mental breakdown and ended up breaking something glass into a million pieces on the floor with everyone staring at me.  i was in a blubbering heap.  the guards/policemen came and had me taken away.  i had done something really bad and they put me in prison, although my nightmare skipped the ordeal of being admitted.  so, i’m alone in this small, dirty prison cell with one cot, a sink, and a toilet.  i had been there for weeks.  what was weird was that i was a guy in my nightmare and i had a girlfriend.  we were in love and she would visit me.  i would get into fights with the other inmates, in turn, getting me more prison time.  soon, i didn’t care anymore, about life, about anything.  i laid in my cot, didn’t move.  i left the tray of food where the guards slid it in and no longer chose to eat.  my ribs started showing and i had a hard time breathing, but i would take it.  i started getting that cold chilling, but exhilirating feeling in my bones that i was about to die, that my soul was leaving my body.  see, i get this feeling occasionally when i dream.  when i realize it, i try to keep the nightmare going as long as i can and this time was no different.  back to the nightmare.  my girlfriend decided she could no longer handle the emotional stress and left me.  at the same time, i was permitted to leave my cell and go to this office, but someone kept beating and kicking me.  i somehow find out that one of my siblings had released some pamphlets with writing about the corruption in the government.  they were written in different languages and i tried to smuggle them in, which is where my nightmare ended.  i couldn’t extend my dream any longer; it was giving me a headache which i still have now.  there is still alot of my experience that i don’t remember.  i really have weird dreams..