One In A Million?

I talked to my counselor today. I told him something he didn't want to hear. I told him what keeps me from hurting myself. Then he told me something I didn't want to hear: one in a million. That's the phrase he used. One. In. A. Million.

SUCK!

I take back what I wrote. Open it. Please. Now. Immediately. And let's talk about it.

These are the words of desperation.

Yeah, I Did It

So I always write about depressing stuff, and I feel like it's getting ridiculous. I know it's getting ridiculous. No matter what I write about or whatever spin I try to put on anything, it always comes out all emo and stuff.

I'm trying to change that. I'm trying hard.

And I don't ever have anything decent to write about. All anyone wants to hear about is how I'm doing, how the cutting is coming along, how high I'm getting, how drunk I'm getting, what kinds of girls and boys I like, how many pills I've taken recently.

Answers: I'm depressed, haven't cut in a while, only got high once, haven't had alcohol in a while, I like all kinds of people, and I haven't touched anything other than an ibuprofen since Last Tuesday (the hospital day, for those who don't know).

Oh yeah, and it's really surprising to me that so many people still don't know about that. I'll fill you Behind-on-the-times Bettys in right...NOW. Or not. Because that would mean talking about depressing stuff. Ok, long story short, I took me an entire bottle of some anti-depressants--575mg, or 23x the recommended dosage (dose? dosage?)--ON PURPOSE and had to go to the emergency room. Now I'm on suicide watch and am not allowed to take any kind of medication ever for a couple months. When I sprained my ankle, I cheated and took some Motrin for the pain. One a day for a week. That's it. No more overdoses.

But anyway, I'm super excited about heading back to my apartment this weekend. As soon as I get my refund check, I'm off to get another tattoo. I desperately need it. Well, that's what I tell myself.

And for those who want to know about what I did the other day: Yes, I really did do that. No, it's not what you think. And no, I'm not going to tell you what was in the envelope (unless your name starts with a B or a J or maybe a K, or if you have two middle names)

One Month Clean

As of today, I haven't cut myself in a month. This makes me happy. This gives me hope. I feel like one month will soon become two months will soon become six months will soon become a year will soon become forever.

That's all I really have to say today. I don't feel comfortable talking about anything else. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime. Maybe.

December 25

Today is Christmas Day.

That's really all I have to say about it.

I'm thankful for the friends who wished me merrydom. I got Watchmen. I also got these slippers that vibrate. Makes my ankle not hurt so much. I have my dog. That's another thing to be thankful for.

Yup, that's it. I can't think of anything else to say about today, except that I'm so super pissed that McDonald's was closed. I had to settle for Starbucks.

Let's Talk About Sex, Bay-be!

Oooooo yay, sex is fun.
Whoah yeah, sex is fun.
Heck yes, I wanna have sex.

I don't judge those who don't use condoms or other forms of birth control. It's not my style.

Please don't think I'm judging you or trying to tell you how to live your life. That's not what this is about. Really, I just don't want to feel alone. Straight up, that's how it is. Am I really the only person who feels the need to get tested and talk to her partner about it? Tell me I'm not. I've gotten a lot of words of support and encouragement, praise and admiration; but what does that mean? Does it mean you do as I do, or does it mean you feel as I feel? Enlighten me.

Hey, guess what? Not everybody has sex. I know, I know...College = sex. Relationships = sex. Love = sex. Bullshit. It's ok to wait for [insert reason here] before you decide to have sex. If you want to go big, you can even become a nun or monk and give up sex altogether (that could be a falsehood--I didn't do my research).

I'm not looking to change anyone's mind, either (though that would be nice). You're going to do what you're going to do. If you have it set in your mind, I can't stop you; I don't expect to.

I Never Did Tell You

I never did tell you why I left the room. Would you like to know?

I was afraid. I was afraid of you. I couldn't stand to be in the same room as you, and not because of anything you had done. I couldn't stay because of the things those before you had done. Terrible, awful things. Unspeakable things.

I'm not afraid anymore; not of you.

I wish I had told you. But then again, I tried to tell you, didn't I? And you didn't listen. I guess what I wish is that you had listened.

I'm Gonna Scream

SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM. And throw things. Apparently friendship no longer exists. Loyalty? Gone, too.

I'm generally a hopeful person, and I like to believe there's good in everyone; but I can't seem to find any more reason for these things. My whole life, I've been called naive, and I understand why. I live in my own world. I believe in happy endings--not for everyone, but they do exist. I've seen too many movies and read too many books. However, I'm fully aware that life doesn't turn out all peaches and candy, though creative minds would argue otherwise.

I understand why people aren't friendly to me. I know why I don't feel comfortable calling many people friend: only a few choose to live up to the title. Most would say I'm mentally ill, unstable, pessimistic, and needy (along with other things). Why be friends with someone like that? Why be kind?

What I don't understand is how people can be so cruel to each other and treat others so badly. All I ever hear from anyone are complaints about how badly they've been treated by someone they thought was a friend. I don't understand it. This is hard for me to write about because I'm in a terribly passionate state right now. In all honesty, I'd love to cuss a particular someone out and say ugly things. I'm bitter about many things, but not about anything this person has done; so don't you dare say that I'm speaking from bitterness/hate/anger. If anything, it's hurt that lies within me; but really, he's just an idiot. That's the long and short of it.

Honestly, though, what ever happened to being a friend? What happened to keeping promises, standing by each other's side, and doing what you can for someone you care about? Why have we all turned our backs on each other? Has it always been this way?

Many times over, I've gotten an oversimplified answer to these questions: that's how people are. That's life. The only person you have is you. That's a bullshit way to think. I certainly don't want to associate with someone who sees everything that way. He has pretty much just guaranteed that he's not dependable, reliable, trustworthy. And he wasn't. And he isn't. And he probably never will be.

I've experienced things--terrible things--that I pray to God nobody will ever have to experience, and still I believe in the goodness in humanity. I believe in helping people, in being kind, in sharing the burden of life. These things aren't difficult to do. There's no excuse for crappy human behavior. If I can do it, you can do it. If a woman can look a rapist in the eye and forgive him, if a child can look her abuser in the eye and forgive her...what's stopping us from treating each other with respect, compassion, friendship?

Don't abandon those around you. Yes, you've been abandoned. Yes, you've been abused. Yes, you've been hurt. But that doesn't make your actions right. Man up. Stop being a fuck, and get your head on straight. Or screw up your life. Whatever. It's your life. Don't expect anything from me, for I expect nothing from you. I only hope you'll see your errors, correct them, and learn from them.

Love Letter II

I feel like this stupid blog has already gotten too depressing, which was completely NOT the point of writing. Sooooo...I've decided to post a series of love letters that I've written to various people. Love comes in many forms. Embrace it.

These have been the longest [insert time period] of my current existence. I don't know why, but I want so badly to tell you so many things. I want to talk to you, from one person to another. I want to tell you that you are such an amazing person and that you did more for me than I could ever say. I don't know how to tell you any of these things, but I feel you should know them. I love you. I love everything about you. Don't change, not one bit. It'll break my heart if you do. I want to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me and how you make me feel. I don't want to waste what you gave me. I feel like I owe you so much, but the only thing I can give is my thanks. You're beautiful. I don't ever want to be without you, though I know I have to. I need to move on and get myself figured out. You should know that you've helped me with that. You did everything just right, and you taught me a lot. Being with you was a beautiful experience. Any moment is enough of a moment with you. I don't know why I feel so much for you. I've never before in my life felt so much for one person. I have mad, crazy love for you. Thank you for showing me what I'm worth. I've waited my time and now I'm going to say these things to you, if only you'll let me. I promise it won't hurt. Any tears that fall will be tears of love, not sadness or sorrow or regret, though sometimes they feel that way. This time feels like forever, but I'm glad I made it through. I'm glad I got to come back to you. I haven't yet finished figuring things out, but I'm ready for anything that may happen. I don't know what I want; but for the first time, I know what I don't want. Unfortunately, a lot of those things are common. You're so unique, kid. How did you get to be that way? I wish I could have seen it sooner. I think I did. I think that's why I decided to try you out. Does any of this make sense? Probably not. It doesn't even make sense to me, and I'm the one writing it. These things are coming from my heart. I've strayed from the initial purpose of the letter, but I don't care. I'm going where my heart and my mind take me. I don't know where that will be, but I'm eager to find out. I wish you could be here with me when I finally do figure things out, but I know that can't happen. I'm not ready for you. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for you. I don't think you were ever ready for me. You tried to be valiant, and you tried to be brave, but it wasn't enough. I care so much about you. You're an angel. You're a beautiful angel, and I love you very much, despite all our differences. I'm a difficult person to deal with, and I appreciate that you stuck it out for as long as you did. I don't know why it hurts to say these things right now. Possibly, it's because I care so much for you. How do you make me care so much? I'll never understand it. I wish I didn't have to wait so long to tell you these things. I wish I could say all this right now. In time, I'll know it's right. At this moment, it feels right, but it may not be. I have to wait to see if this passes. If it doesn't, if these words remain in my heart, I'll know it's right. I'll know that I need to tell you. I'm just so afraid that you won't want to hear this, or that you won't give me a chance. Why is this so hard? Why do I have to wait? Waiting is the hardest thing for me. I'm not patient; and when I want something as badly as I want this, I can't wait. I want to do this right now. I'm tempted to call you, but I know I shouldn't. What would you think of me? I don't care what you think. Call me selfish, but all I care about is how I feel. Things are crazy, and they're not calming down. I was ready to tell you everything. Do you understand that? Do you know what that means? I wanted to let you in. I was going to do it. Why do you think I called you over that night? That very night that you decided to do what you did.

Love Letter I

I feel like this stupid blog has already gotten too depressing, which was completely NOT the point of writing. Sooooo...I've decided to post a series of love letters that I've written to various people. Love comes in many forms. Embrace it.

I don't know how to tell you how much you mean to me. Any words I could say aren't enough. Even this won't be enough. I think about your face all the time. I think about your smile, your laugh, your kindness. You're so good to me, and I feel like I don't deserve it. I've hurt you in the worst possible way, but you forgave me. I don't know if I could do that. I'm in love with you. I want to be with you all the time. If I could--if I were allowed--I would spend forever with you. Eternity would be ours. I cherish our friendship, our love, everything we have. I'm sure it means more to me than it does to you, but that's ok. As long as you accept what I offer, I'll be happy. Will you do that? For me? I would do it for you. I would do anything for you. You're my existence. It won't always be that way, but I don't mind. As long as I can call you friend, I'll always be happy. I've never felt this way before about anyone. I've loved men with my body and I've loved a man with my heart, but I love you in such a different way. I kept my mind on him to keep it off you. I'm sure he knows it, too. I loved him. I still love him. I love him with every piece of my heart, but I'm not in love with him the way I am with you. My only wish is that I stop feeling this way because I know you'll never return my feelings. You can't. I understand that. All I want is for you to be happy. I'll do anything in my power to make sure you never cry or hurt or suffer. Ever since I met you, I've thought you were nothing less than incredible. I'm so glad you're a part of my life, especially now when things are so difficult and unclear. You've always been so quick to help, and you've never one judged me. That's never happened with anyone else. I'm so sorry for causing you so much pain. I promise I'll never do it again. Just don't go anywhere. Don't run like everyone else in my life. Don't ever make me chase you. Don't leave me. Let me keep you.

Wesley Snipes Makes Me Think

If I didn't love you so goddamn much, I would hate you.

Helplessness. Powerlessness. That's what triggers the depression. I realized it tonight when I could barely walk my dog on my own. When I feel these two things, I get depressed. It's all I can do not to let myself slip back into that.

My ankle is [badly] sprained, and I've been put up in bed/on the couch for a couple days. I can only get up to grab an ice pack, walk the dog, feed the dog, feed myself, and sometimes shower. I've been using my rollie chair as a wheelchair so as not to put pressure on Wesley Snipes.

I felt like I couldn't do anything for her, him, another him, and finally me. It's the worst feeling in the world. I wish I could do something. I wish I could change things. Somebody saved my life. Whose life have I saved? Someone loves me enough to keep me from hurting myself. Why doesn't my love matter that much to you? Why am I not that important? Daughter, sister, lover, friend. None of these words mean anything to any of you. Speak 'friend' and I'm saved. Speak 'love' and you're still lost. I don't know what more I can give. I don't even know what more I can do for myself.

All I can do at the moment is wait. I'm staying with my brother for a while until I get stuff sorted out. Or until Wesley Snipes disappears. Whichever comes first.

Fuck yo couch, Holidays

My ankle is sprained. I just paid $50 and got x-rays to find out that it's as sprained as it can possibly be without being broken.

And Old Faithful has breathed her last breath. Upon leaving the clinic, I tried to start my car. Tried. And failed. And had to pay $70 to get her towed back to the apartment. Suck.

I have to spend the entire holiday in this stupid town unless my mother decides to act out of character and come get me. Double suck.

Positive note: my ankle is not broken, and I have enough Ramen noodles to last the winter.

Cutting With Markers

I hurt. All the time. Does anyone else hurt like this?
I can't sleep. I can't eat. I feel so empty. I feel so broken. I want more than anything in the world to be fixed. That's all I want. Maybe that's too much to ask for.

I'm trying a new thing with my counselor where I cut with a marker (he's trying to prevent as much bloodshed as possible). Every time I get the urge to cut, I'm supposed to grab a marker and run it down my arm like I would a sharp object. I tried it for the first time tonight. Surprisingly, it helped. I kinda don't want to cut anymore. Well, I never want to cut, but now I don't even have a craving. If only everything were this easy.

I haven't actually run a blade across my arm in over a week. That doesn't sound like a long time, but it really is. It's like a smoker saying they haven't lit up in a few days. It's a big deal. I've actually stopped trying to hurt myself since I made a promise to two people. I promised one that I'd never, never, EVER try to kill myself again. I made a promise to the other that I would keep sharp objects away from my left arm. So far, so good. I've been a week without the latter and almost a month without the former. I feel good. I also promised a certain gentleman I'd get better. I intend to make good on that promise.

But I wonder, does anyone else feel this way? My counselor says that I'm behaving exactly the way I should, based on what's happened in my life. Hmmm....molestation, rape, depression, abusive relationships, chronic illness, family drug abuse and alcoholism. That list is kinda long. Too long. I don't like it. I don't like to look at it. It sucks. This sounds selfish, but why the heck couldn't it just be one or two things? Why, God, why does it have to be all of these? Mr. Counselor Man says it's a recipe for depression, cutting, suicide, self-hate. I'm pretty much a textbook case and am behaving in all the ways a person in my position is expected to behave, with one exception: I'm getting help. And I'm making stellar progress.

I don't know why I'm writing about this right now. I guess I just need to vent. I need an outlet. I have a million things in my heart I'd like to say, but I never say them. I don't know why. I still haven't published the note that's been written and completed for several weeks. I'm still afraid. That's the biggest problem: I'm afraid. I'm always afraid. I'm so tired of being afraid.

And I'm tired of hurting. My stupid ankle sprained itself last night. Sucks. I can barely move around, and walks with Sweetie are hell. Poor dog. I feel bad for her. Her owner is either put up because of a sprained ankle, migraines, allergies, or [fill-in-the-illness]. Mah body est no good. Oh well. That's life, correct?

Now you may not believe this, but I'm actually feeling more positive about everything. Maybe it's because I have a crush...or not. I really feel like I'm almost through this. I know for sure I'm ready to be well. That's the first step, right? Damn straight. The good days certainly outweigh the bad, and I'm smiling a lot more. I know I'll be ok. But until then...oh boy.

Counseling Hurts

I always hate the way I feel after counseling. The sessions get me down. Instead of talking about good things or happy things, we talk about the stuff that hurts. That sucks.

I know this is normal, but I can't help but feel that counseling isn't working. I feel like I'm not accomplishing the main goal: to get better; to stop being depressed.

Current achievements:

• The cutting and suicide attempts have stopped
• I told all my Dirty Secrets (and no one went to jail)
• It's easier for me to talk about myself and my...condition
• I cry all the time
• I've been retraumatized

Things I've learned about myself:

• My depression is triggered (hard) by illness/injury
• I'm depressed because I feel powerless, whether to help myself or others
• I have Major Depressive Disorder
• I miss Tubbykins
• I've been depressed for years (it runs in the family)
• I have no real friends but one or two, and my family sucks ass (already knew the latter)
• My pitcher of Kool-Aid has overflowed
  
• I'm still traumatized by things that happened a decade ago
• I have no hope and feel worthless (which is why I want to kill meself)
• I love and forgive those I shouldn't because it's easier than acknowledging how they've hurt me
• I'm weak
  
• For the past several years, I've been punishing myself for things that people have done to me
• I'm still afraid

Lemonade is overrated.

So It's Snowing

And everyone is excited.
It's December. In Texas. These things happen.


In other news: I feel really self-centered and narcissistic for blogging. At least with facebook notes, I could pretend other people read (and possibly benefited from) what I wrote.

Today is the last day of finals, which means everybody is going home. I'm sad. I'll be the only one in town for over a month. Ohhhh....what to do with myself? Probably blog all day like a loser. And sleep.

First Relationship Blog

Why do people ask me so many questions? I don't understand it.

I got an email from a friend of mine asking for the best way to tell her boyfriend that she can't afford the upkeep on a gift he gave her. Uhhh...what? When have I been known to talk to my partner about stuff? Never. I don't talk. I don't. I tried talking once, and I got dumped. I think that's a good reason to be cautious about sharing. If you want to know something, have me write it down. That's the only way I know to get my thoughts out. So I told her to email him.

But really, relationships piss me off. They do. I don't like them. I don't like being in them, I don't like being around people who are in them, and I don't like hearing about them. They suck. And I'm not just saying that. I really believe it. I've been in two relationships. I could have been in more, and I could be in one right now if I let it be known that I'm interested in a certain person, but I don't care to. To me, 82% of relationships scream, "Let's be together so we're not alone."

People know this about me, and still they insist on asking for advice. I can give none. Here's my best: break up with him. End it. If he really cared, and if you really cared, you wouldn't have these problems.

However, I'm very Jekyll/Hyde about this (which is part of the reason my most recent relationship failed). Unfortunately, I live in a fantasyland, and I kinda do believe in soul mates. I would love to find someone with whom I could share everything, someone who understands me right away and who loves everything about me just the way it is. My oldest brother has told me that he's met his soul mate. Had I not learned that, I wouldn't believe in them. You see, he's a bit nerdy, a little jerky, and kind of a player. But he insists that he and this girl would be married right now had he not moved to Texas. That's a big thing for him, so I know she must have been an amazing girl.

But yeah, so I want to get married. I've always wanted to get married. I'm still juggling the idea of having kids, but I have time to think about that. Do you see the problem I've encountered? I don't like to date. I don't like relationships. I have a hard time being alone in a room with a man without getting terribly frightened (for more than obvious reasons). And I want to get married. I want to spend forever with someone. I want to wake up in the morning (or afternoon) next to someone and think, "I can do this every day." I want to be able to tell someone I love him. I want to commit myself to someone. I've wanted to do this for as long as I can remember. I get excited just thinking about it--not about the wedding part, like most girls, but about the forever part. I WANT A MATE.

Hope as I may, I still feel I'll never be able to have what I want: instant togetherness. Unless someone AMAZING comes along. I've met some really amazing people, but they've all been girls, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. See, I'm a special case. I'm not the average girl. Nobody is, but I'm really even less average than the other non-average girls. I have a story. I have a hard, painful story that's almost impossible to tell. Everyone says that, but I mean it. And I don't know how to get past that and get positive about the ugly R-word (Or the B-word. Or the L-word. Or the D-word. Or the M-word.). I tried to pretend it didn't exist when I was in my last relationship, but then he got curious and wanted to get "serious" and all that bullshit, and it caused more problems than it solved.

And another problem: I'm more fun when I'm single. Ask my friends. They'll tell you they'd rather be around me when I'm free to do what I want. Well, I always do what I want anyway, but I feel free when I'm single. And I can get stupid without embarrassing anyone. And nobody breaks up with you when you're single. And you don't find out after a year with someone that nobody actually ever liked the guy. Sucks.

I'm cautious to share this one because I kinda like someone right now and I don't want them to stumble upon this and think, "It'll never work. She's anti-relationship." I'm not anti- anything; I'm just pro-single, and I'm afraid that if you get to know me, you'll want to be friends and nothing more. That's the worst.

Weekend of Firsts

I'm still trying to figure out this blog thing (I'm a virgin), so bear with me while I royally screw up.

I had something specific I wanted to write about, but now I've forgotten what it was. Maybe it'll come to me....

...Oh yeah, now I remember. I was going to talk about my most awesome weekend with some really chill people. I'm so excited about this that I just can't share it enough! Really, though, it was awesome. You should have been there. It rocked the house.

Here's how it all went down:

My friend Brytni was all, "Hey, Kiara. Check out this band that'll be in Houston."
I was all, "Hells yeah!"
Long story short, she and I hopped in the van with the band, played us some N64 (oldschool) MarioKart, and drove our happy asses to H-Town(?).

These guys were all really cool. I had an awesome time. This was The Weekend Of Firsts:

My first beer pong tournament--I've played beer pong several times (it's usually the only time I drink), but I've never played in a tournament before. My teammate and I did pretty well, considering how messed up I was. I play better when I'm drunk, so our strategy was to get me drunk before we started playing, then let me drink all the cups while we play. It worked pretty well, I'd say. Except that I got super wasted and was cut off for the first time in my life (another first!).

My first live show--This one puts a little shame in my heart. My brother and my mom's boyfriend both have bands of their own (that they've been in for a few years), and I've never been to their shows. But Flawless Escape definitely got me excited, and it was a great experience.

My first trip to Houston--Yeah, I live in Texas. Yes, I've lived here since I was four. No, I'd never been to Houston before this weekend. Guess what? I've never been to Austin, either. Get over it.

My first time eating Greek food--Well, I don't know many Greeks, sooooo I don't really expect for this to surprise anyone. But the food was good. The place was called One's A Meal. I had some pepperoni pizza, tried some of Kurt's bread/toast/chips things, and had a bite of Brytni's grape leaf/meat/lemon sauce thing. It all tasted pretty swell.

My first time eating Indian food--One of the guys that hangs out with the band is Indian. Before he brought us back to College Station, he took us to the London Sizzler. My stomach was hurting, so I didn't eat much. I tried some bread stuff that was pretty good.

My first time on the radio--My lady friend has a radio show that she plays DJ for every week. When we got home, she took me to the station and we spun some cool tracks. You should check it out. The show is good, the music is good, and you can learn about giraffes. You really have no reason not to check it out.

Shameless plugs:
myspace.com/musicofderekcomley
myspace.com/satellitedown
myspace.com/flawlessescapeband
http://kanm.tamu.edu/showarchive/Sunday6-8p.mp3

First. Blog. Ever.

My first blog. yay!