honestly

how many missed opportunities there are in a day to go. To leave. To completely fuck up people’s lives. 

There are too many times where I think about ending it all in one day. I have never been like this before. When you don’t care that you don’t care, there’s a problem, and I have reached that level. 

It scares me every time I drive anywhere how I unconsciously count every pole, every tree, every missed opportunity to take my life. I can’t see past tomorrow anymore. I can’t even see past today. This is the first time i’ve been truly alone in weeks and not been in a car. People make me a tiny bit more stable than when I am when I’m alone. Like right now, I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t physically retain information that isn’t relevant to my life. I don’t care that I will be hurting others. They’ll be happy eventually if it’s not right now. 

I feel most sorry for those who get it. Who see it in me that my eyes are dead. My will is deflated. My heart is numb. I can’t feel anything and this is the most dangerous part. 

I didn’t think I was actually depressed until someone close to me told me I was. It kind of hit me in the face and took away every time I denied it. It’s the truth. I want to leave this place. I want to stop. I understand now how easy it is to think that way and how it is seen as giving up but no. It doesn’t feel like giving up. It feels like setting everything else where it’s supposed to be. Take me out of the picture and so many things will be resolved. When the going gets rough you’re supposed to take everyday with a grain of salt. I’m taking every minute with a grain of sand at this rate. The pressure inside my chest is deafening. I can’t hear myself, I can’t see myself, I can’t breathe. The heat of the tears screaming behind my eyelids is scorching my willpower and, honestly, I can’t wait to let it go. 

Tomorrow is going to be really tough for me. Exam at 8:30, interview sometime in between the end of that and work at 4 and then work till closing. How can I do this without bringing myself to the edge again? 

I spread myself too thin this semester, this year even and I’m paying for it. I’m wasting my dad’s money and my sanity on something that I can’t go into anymore. I feel like I couldn’t handle my abnormal psych class because it hit too close to home. I felt way too much of what they were describing for depression and sexual, traumatic disorders that it made me think. I thought I knew myself until I guess I’m like a whole lot of people. It’s classifiable. It’s diagnosable. All I have to do is go see someone. 

But you know what, that’s money. 

Money that I don’t have. Money that I won’t be able to spend on myself or make my parents spend on me. I’m done ruining their lives. My father isn’t my father anymore, just a provider. My mother is so hurt. And I know that’s not my fault but indirectly, just the fact that they had children is their downfall. I miss them. It will never be the same but that’s okay. As long as they can be happy somehow. 

All I’m missing is the last shred of self pity to do it. I don’t pity myself. I deserve everything I’ve got. I put myself in this place. Death is the answer nobody really likes to go for because it is a way out. Everything else gets a shortcut, but not death. It’s not supposed to happen like that. 

If anything happens, and I know it won’t, but if anything does, I love you all. I’m not going to write a saga about each and every person in my life. I love each and every one of you. I hope that accident or not, you see what true beauty is within yourself if I go. I try to bring out the best and the most beautiful parts of everyone and I can’t seem to find it in myself. I hate beautiful. I can’t stand the sound of it, but that seems to be exactly what I’m looking for. I’m not saying I’m going to do anything. Not planning on it, but it’s so easy and literally at my fingertips. 

No one reads these things, and I hope someone does just to see the timeline of events that happened in my life and how I became the person I am. 

I am not transparent. I am solid through an through. You will not see me fall unless I’m at the brink. You will not see me scared of it. You will not see me cry unless I can’t do it anymore. It’s getting closer and closer to the edge for me and that’s the scariest part. I should be more afraid for myself than I am right now but I can’t seem to fear death. It holds too much sanity, which I desperately need. You wonder why I’m crazy. Why I act like a nut most of the time. Why I hug everyone at every chance I get. I’m losing myself little by little. Every minute I feel myself slipping away. Every second the heat in my chest pulses and forces the tears right under the surface. I’m trying to win. I’m trying to stay focused. 

But it’s uncontrollable. 

I just wanted to beautiful.

When will I understand even the slightest bit of myself?
A continuously, blindsided, vicious fight between me, myself and I.
Also known as Michelle, Kate and Speak…? No? Lol I left all but one behind and she’d love to be heard. I wish I knew how deep this was going to be. This battle between all of myself and the world. I’m getting more confused as to what I want than ever. I can’t win. I can’t see my life beyond today. Right now. Every chance that passes me, ill know. Ill remember the number. How easy it would be to hug the pole that will give me nothing. And everything. All that I crave in one simple motion.
I don’t need a partner, I don’t get along with them. I don’t need sex, I’m turned off by it because it makes me feel disgusting. I don’t need school, it’s ruining my parents lived either way. I don’t need to be here, everyone would love me after anyway.
I wish I had the courage, but I have too much to live for.

I wish I could sleep.
The divorce. Losing you. Gaining you. Not being able to leave you.
It’s all catching up to me.
I feel it in the quiet urges of my eyelids that close at every opportunity. Inconvenient or not. I want to feel satisfied when I lay my head against my pillows. I don’t want to feel awake when I know I’m tired. What are these bruises under my eyes I’ve never seen before? On what night did they decide to show their pretty purple shading under my once perked brown eyes? I can’t even remember the simple things. The feelings I guess I’m trying to compress come out even more than before I stopped my required rest. But I still have faith. It’s going to work…eventually.

I’ve changed. I’ve seen so many different people walk I and out of my life and I think I’m ready to keep and let go of some of them. The problem is, how do I let them go? No pain, no gain. I find that saying adapts to more than one aspect of life. I used to say that in dance all the time because you can’t get better without a little pain, without a little muscle bending. You can’t live a healthy life without losing a few loved ones, or being let go by someone else. It’s hard and it sucks most of the time when getting hurt seems like the only option. I’ve learned to be stronger and put myself first. I sick of putting everyone’s feelings and cares in front of my own when it just ends up hurting me in the end. Isn’t the goal of my life right now to be happy? Why am I letting everything get in the way of my happiness? I don’t feel right again, because I know this feeling. I’ve done this before. It’s all numb. I think I feel something but the emptiness comes just as quickly if not faster. A vicious cycle. I’m stuck and I’m starting to believe there’s no way out anymore. I’m splitting again and it feels like I can’t control them. Talking out of turn and this sudden rage is getting a little intense for me. Another thing, I still can’t get a hold of my romantic life. I’m a flirt, we all know that, and that doesn’t mean I want to be in a relationship with everyone. Teasing is like my talent or the way I cope with not feeling good about myself. I know it’s bad but I haven’t accepted any other way to do this. It’s a coping mechanism. And it’s not all bad. I’m not justifying it but it is what it is. I do like a few but I want to move on. Keep the great friends that I have in my life now and then take out all the unhealthy relationships I’m building.
Em I want to get rid of you so bad. You’re hurting me and you don’t seem to get that. I don’t want to talk to you anymore but I know you need support. I feel like I’m the only one you listen to sometimes. Most of the time. You’re practically attached to your best friend and I really hope you’re not smoking as much as I hear you are. I’m disappointed. You’re being so immature about us and I don’t appreciate it at all.
Ill stop complaining. No one reads this and no one gives me advice because I can’t talk about this to anyone else. No real people. (That’s a lie bc I have like 2 best friends I share this with but I don’t know how to take their advice)
I need saving. Desperately.
And unfortunately that hero is me.

I want to say better than ever but that’s not true. 

I definitely had one of the best experiences of my life in London and I regret nothing. I did me. I lived in the moment and didn’t worry about anything. Didn’t think about anyone from home, or school, or money. A little taste of paradise for me and now I’m back to reality and it kind of sucks. All the wounds I patched up are slowly opening back up. Not all, but some. Not enough to throw me off my new path but enough for my head to numb back up on its own. Oh well. At least I’m moving. I know I’ve got a job to come back home to and school to focus on but it’s not the same. I want to go back to England so bad. There’s so much more to explore and experience that home is so…normal. I hate normal. 

It felt like home. More like any of this. When I go back to school, my roomie and I are going to make our apartment as foreign as possible. When we get enough money we are definitely going back. Home hurts. I don’t want to be here as much as I know I should want to. I want to go back. I need to go back.

I’m in love with paradise. 

I feel like I’m either at school or working all the time. At least today I got to do some christmas shopping. Things have been so different since I started thinking slightly another way.
I’ve learned that people are people and they will never change no matter how they say they will, show they will, or show you any proof. It isn’t true. They won’t change. I mainly say that because of myself. No matter how much I try to change, the results are more or less the same. The change process is so slow and painstaking that it’s barely even there. I miss one tiny insignificant detail and I’m back at square one.
I’m sitting here by the door of my chipotle and, shivering, I’m telling you that it’s okay. As long as I learn every time I get back to square one, it’s worth it. One day I will change significantly. Hopefully I do in London but who knows :) I miss them though. My mistakes were people who I loved the most. I’m sorry but then again I’m not. I’m closer to my future than ever before obviously and I wouldn’t be here without them. I wouldn’t be here with them either.
Back to work.

I went to this presentation yesterday. 

Project Pride, where 4 prisoners come from the nearest prison in Jersey and tell us their story. I was a little bit late because I was in class, but I skipped the rest and stayed for the whole thing. I came in the middle of the first guy’s story and it was the typical guy who lost his job and lost everything so he got into drugs and blah blah blah. But the first girl presenter, Jessica, really…

surprised me.

She came from a split home; her mom and dad divorced when she was 3 and they lived in separate houses. Her mom was an alcoholic and her dad wanted her to do fine. Then she told us how she was molested when she was 11 by a family member; her cousin. That literally stopped me cold. I never thought someone would have ever gone through that, like me. I literally went all cold, then hot then I started breathing fast and it was crazy. She ultimately ended up in prison for getting caught with her boyfriend doing drugs but….wow. When she was talking about what she did after she was molested by him, I related to everything. The numb, the embarrassment, the needing to find an escape. How do you say something? How do you escape? How do you potentially ruin both of your lives by telling people that these mediocre people were once sexual abusers? I went up to her after the whole program and I asked her how do I do it? How do I not say anything? She said that she didn’t know either. He’s older now with daughters and has a good job and a successful life and that would just ruin it. Mine is younger than me and has the potential to be a really great person. I still love him. She still loves him. Acts like nothing happened, because what else can you do? She also told me I should talk about it with people I trust. Recently, I’ve lost a few people that I’ve told and trusted to stupid reasons aka me being a shitty person apparently. They told me I was crazy, that I was making it up. And I’m not. Jessica told me that I’m not crazy, and that I’m not alone. Coming out strong from this is the best thing I can do. Fight for me and let it go. Talk about it and I’ll feel better every time I do. I can’t get caught up in the vicious cycle that she was in. She smoked and did all kinds of drugs and I’ve smoked weed before but it’s just so we can get to that state where we don’t have to feel anything. I get it. I totally understand what she’s saying. She really changed my life that day by telling her story. I’m eternally grateful for her willingness to share a part of her that at one point she was scared to say. I have to not be afraid anymore and face it. I don’t necessarily have to tell my family, just people that aren’t associated with them and if they really are my friends, they will understand. I feel so relieved and grateful and motivated to do something more. 

Because I’m not the only one. 

Broke down at work yesterday. 

It was quite embarrassing. Got a lime thrown in my face. Ran outside. Cried. 

At least someone who doesn’t think I’m a shitty person came to my rescue and held me. That’s really all I need right now. Someone to hold me and tell me it’s going to be ok. I know it’s sappy. I know it’s dumb—but it’s true. I gained so much strength from that long lasting hug. I tried squeezing the rest of the tears out of me so I could breathe normally and put on a better face for my customers. The whole thing hurt. Everything hurts. 

Probably because I’m a shitty person, right? Right, B? Exactly.

Em sent me a message and we talked some of it out but now we’re set on being just friends for a while. I don’t know how that’s going to work but okay. Done with drama. Done with being accused of so many things. Done with my issues. I just want to breathe right. I want to go to London and be a completely different person. Someone who can’t be judged or hated because nobody knows who I am. I want to have fun, be me, and not worry about hurting people’s feelings all the time. 

But right now, I must go to work. 

26 days <3

I’m officially off the market for an extended period of time. 

I’m not ready for anything.

I’ve discovered something else about myself that is actually life altering and I don’t know how long I can do it by myself. 

B, I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you want me to be for you. I know you read this shit sometimes so, thank you for all the awesome that is you. You’ve helped me a lot in the past and now I know I was just that asshole friend who complained a lot and didn’t give a shit about anything you said. Which is totally not true that I didn’t give a shit but, oh well. It’s better for you not to have me dragging you down. I’d rather not. I’m glad you’re moving on without me. I hope you get far. Love you, man. Toodles. <3

As for you em, I want to fucking strangle you. You don’t know what you did to me. It’s all clear now why I’ve become such a shitty friend. You pushed me to my limit and I spilled all my shit on everyone else. Great. Thank you. No really thank you. You showed me what I’m really made of, which is nothing. All I am is problem after problem. There is no solution. Unless it’s a professional solution. You can’t tell me when to fix myself and when I’m a raging bitch. Sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations—I rarely live up to anyone’s. 

Sorry to both of you. 

You both meant so much to me and now I’m back to square one with nobody. 

Only my head and me. If I go crazy this time, I’ll have no one to blame but myself. I don’t have any food in my house, so that shouldn’t be a problem. I can only throw myself into my school work now, which isn’t going to help me much. Finally, I’ve got the music that isn’t really music but beat and bass that will clear my head and bring me to deafness. No food, no cares, no worries.

Let the sickness begin.