Why am I back here? If there is one thing I've learned about myself, it's that I only write when something is eating away at my insides. It's kind of like those Anna Nalick lyrics "If I get it all down of paper, it's no longer inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to." My own thoughts are killing me. It's such a painful death, too. The pain comes in these giant waves, and I can never see right before they crash over me.

I spent the majority of my day trying to study, and then crying into my textbooks every time I remembered that I didn't want to be here. I don't want this. I don't want to go to college. I never wanted to go to college. I wanted to go to trade school, but I let my parents talk me out of it. I'm glad that they did, but that doesn't mean I should have gone to college instead. I'm not blaming my parents for anything. Or trying to make excuses. I'm just angry. I spent so much time the past two semesters struggling to do my work. It wasn't that the work was hard, it was that I couldn't find the willpower to do the work. I know that sometimes we have to put on our big girl (or boy) pants, and do things that we don't want to do in life. I don't want to get up at 4/5am for work, but I do because that's life. But there is something about college that is just different for me. There is this constant feeling of worthlessness and being a failure. Add a whole lot of depression and an eating disorder on top of that, and I'd say I'm just a big giant mess right now.

People tell me I have this really great support system. I disagree with that. The thing about support systems is that they have to support your decisions, and give you advice. Above all, they need to have your happiness and mental stability in mind at all times when helping you. That's not the case when it comes to my so-called "support system." Most people just tell me that I should finish school, that I should keep going and that it'll all be worth it in the end. They might be right, but what about right now? What about all these days I spend sitting in my room crying my eyes out over the thought of doing school work? Or over the thought of being stuck in this place another 2-3 years? I thought things were getting better, I thought it was starting to be okay. Turns out I was wrong about that. I was right about what I said before I moved down here, though. I think if I stay down here I might hurt myself. I don't know how. Maybe I'll start losing weight again. Maybe I'll start drinking again. Maybe I'll just let the depression wash over me. Who knows. But I know that being alone with my thoughts is really toxic.

I tried to compartmentalize and look what happened. It all just came and hit me. It hit me at a time when I really should be compartmentalizing. What the hell happened to me? I used to be so good at pushing it all down. I used to hide it so well. I think I stopped having a release for it all. I stopped writing, stopped drawing, stopped getting super fucked up on the weekends. I miss it sometimes. I miss taking enough pills to forget the pain.

He makes me not want to do that stuff, though. He makes me feel okay. But he isn't always there when I need him. And those days are the hardest ones. I know I can't rely on him like that, I learned that the hard way. I learned that lesson long before I met him, I just seemed to have forgotten. When I'm hyperventilating and crying and he doesn't answer my calls all day.. it takes me back to the night I called that suicide hotline. I felt so alone. I had called all of my friends and none of them answered. I feel like such a pathetic loser, reaching out, grasping for someone to save me.. and then nobody ever grabs my hand. So I just fall.. and I drown. I keep drowning. I'm still drowning. I'm not sure if that feeling will ever go away. It seems to just keep coming back.

I had to turn it off. All of it. I couldn't stand another minute. And for a second... it actually stopped hurting.
It came back though. It always comes back.

She hurt me in ways she'll never realize. She took all of my broken pieces and she set them on fire. She thought she was proving a point, trying to make me feel the same way that she had. It was all a game to her. But she'll never know.. she'll never begin to know just how deep the scar is that she reopened.

Since I've been at the airport since 6am trying to get on a flight back home (oh the joys of flying stand-by) I've decided to write about some of the things that people do that annoy me whilst traveling.


Things you should NOT do while at the airport

• Sing
• Talk extremely loudly on your cellular device
• Argue with your spouse
• Let your children run around like little monkeys
• Sit in the seat right next to me, even though there are plenty of seats elsewhere
• Fart

Things you should not WEAR at the airport

Ladies first...

• High heels. Honey I know you want to look cute, but you have to walk like a mile to get to your flight and I don't want to smell your stanky feet on the airplane when you take your shoes off because your feet hurt from those 8inch stilettos
• Any skirt, dress, or shorts that reveals your bum. I know all the pervy 50yr olds enjoy looking at your ass, but I don't. 
• "Yoga pants" or what I like to call, "bitch I can see every contour of your ass" pants. Once again... do you enjoy gross old men? I mean.. I guess if that's what you're into...
• Skirt/dress with tennis shoes. I don't care where you are. It's not okay. 
• Jeggings. Enough said. 

Gentlemen!

• Socks with sandals.. Ew. 
• Short shorts. You'd be surprised how many dude's thighs I've seen today. 

You know what? I don't even want to finish this. Good day, sir. 

ps. I SAID GOOD DAY! 

Pointless Void Filling

It is a bit unfortunate(for me at least) that I am awake at this hour(2:55 am). My roommate is passed out on the couch next to me while I am still wired from my two cups of coffee at dinner. I want to write an inspiring post about the meaning of life and everything in it, but I am just not feeling very philosophical right now. I have come up with a theory that I only blog when I am trying to fill a void in my life. [Just a little side note that has nothing to do with anything; I keep hearing the strangest noises right now. One of them is just my stomach trying to communicate with me, but there is definitely some other odd noises happening outside.] "A void?' you may ask. Yes, a void. It is as if I am trying to come up with a reasonable(yet stupid) explanation, aside from the real explanation, for why negative things are happening in my life. Just as always, I am thinking entirely too deep into things, and I am trying (and starting) to see things that are non existent. I wonder if anyone understands anything that I write. Perhaps my thought process needs some good ol' fashioned Martha Stewart organization. With that being said, I will end this ranting nonsense with a fitting quote for the evening (or perhaps morning).

"I find that when you have a real interest in life and a curious life, that sleep is not the most important thing."

-Martha Stewart

Meaningless Crap

This morning I woke up around 7 after regrettably only sleeping five hours. Sure, I could have rolled back up into my cacoon of covers and gone back to sleep, but something stopped me. It could have been the fact that I had to pee about six times in one hour, or possibly that my subconscious was trying to tell me something. I would probably say the first option, but if for some absurd reason my subconscious was speaking to me, what was it trying to say exactly? Simply that I need to stop being a bum, or something deeper, more meaningful? Okay, so maybe I'm being a bit of a drama queen. Am I really the only person who thinks about this kind of meaningless crap?