Tuesday, December 6, 2005

When I was in grade 9 I had to go to a Drug Addiction place, because stupidly some friends and me had brought alcohol to school. On the last day we had to talk to our councilors about what we had learned, why we were there, and blah, blah, blah. I told him nothing except what he wanted to hear, and he looked at me, ya know, he really looked at me, and he asked, very serious like, if I was okay, whether I was happy. I said yes, I was fine, great even. It didn’t end; he didn’t believe me. He asked again, ‘Carolyn is everything okay at home, are you okay?’ I responded, ‘I love everyone at home’. He asked me a couple more times, I guess to make sure, and all the while he didn’t believe me.
Its funny back then, at that moment, I didn’t know I was like this; I didn’t look at the mirror and think ‘your shit, you will always be shit’. I was fine. At least as much as I thought, maybe…probably I was fucked then except it was subconsciously. I would have moments when I wouldn’t speak to any one, when I would just go into a funk, a black mood. And everyone thought I just had wild mood swings. No one I knew had had depression, no one in my family history had felt like I had (that I’ve known about). I hadn’t really read about it, I hadn’t really seen enough of it in movies or on the TV for me to be able to generalize myself as someone who was in reality falling apart. And now, in this time, in this instant of reality, I find that I am fucked, and no one that can help me, is able to see the problem.
This is one of those times when I’m reasonable, when I can diagnose the problem and dissect it until it’s a pile of rubble. When things make sense, and then, then its as if it’s a conspiracy, as if I am the conspiracy. I find that all my life I’ve been told that I’m a hypochondriac, that everything I feel isn’t real. So I look at my depression as if I really am okay and I’m just making myself believe I’m not. A second ago I understand everything, I feel like I could explain scientific phenomena’s with ease, but that second later I can’t figure out if up is really up or is it actually down. Is the world really moving or am I the one that’s spinning…out of control? Am I really depressed or is it all a ploy my subconscious thought up as to direct attention to me. Then I’m back to the reasonable Carolyn, the one who says ‘up is up and down is down. The world rotates, while I stand still. Yes I am screwed up, YES, YES, YES, by God this feeling of wanting to die is real, it really is there.’ I’m so excited that it all makes sense again, and then I do a flip and realize, that I’m excited I want to die, that doesn’t make sense. I don’t make sense. Yes the world spins, yes up is up, yes I’m screwed. So what. The problem at hand is, with this new sprout of information that I’ve realized about a million times before; I wont use it to benefit my self. I wont use my found dissect abilities to make me better, to inform someone that I have a problem, and its called me with a capital D.
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Monday, December 5, 2005

End of Days
So as of late I've fallen so much farther. I started drinking, now I don't have the energy sad. I don't really eat as much.
I had this dream a couple days ago and in it I had a g/f but my mother wouldn't let her in our house so I freaked out and went and stayed with my grandparents. Then I told them and they kicked me out so I grabed a bottle of there vodka and went to one of my friends house, I passed out or something and the next thing I knew I was in the hospital and the only person who came was terry my mother wouldn't come.
I woke up crying and I couldn't stop, it was aweful. I've had dreams like this before but I always knew my mom would never do anything like that, and now that I've seen what she thinks about me being bi, its making me relize it could happen. anyways so I cryed and cryed and couldn't stop, I was soo scared to go to bed, I didn't want to have to see that dream again, so I took some gravel and fell into a dreamless state.
Uggg I wake up these days, have a shower, throw something on, then lye on my couch trying not to fall apart.
I watch fucking franklin and start to cry.
I can feel everything falling so quckly, everything ending with a big fucking bang. Theres always something that makes me worst always something that brings me down a little more, and its happening way to often then it should.
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Sunday, May 29, 2005

poem
I feel the dark surrounding
My heart in its cage is pounding
I can't seem to feel this world anymore
Surprisingly enough I did before
I understood...
...I knew I could
...But to fall apart
Wasn't my alternative start
I didn't think this would be a great end
For this sadness I didn't intend...
...It followed me no matter what
This story; this song became my cut
The plot; the melody became the vein
And everything ended; everything it contained
The words ran out and the song began to skip
My soul leaked out; my pages where ripped
...Finally the darkness turned away...
...With light came a world of decay
And I stood up high on a roof-top
Looking out on everything I had forgot
And I finally see
All my life I had waited for this moment to be free
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Friday, May 6, 2005

Do you remember those days so long ago when life held a sort of surrendering brilliance; when summer breezes told us of a time without worries; when you could look out at a world filled with dreams that still held tightly to there holders? Oh…I remember those days, how could one forget the feeling of happiness they accompanied. I remember the feeling of the wind on my face, how it caressed and smoothed out the dark folds that held so many secrets, the light descending behind the horizon…I remember that as I see you there walking…you walk so tall…you walk so proud, and yet you can sense the sorrow that plagues your heart. Maybe in a time other than our own, when things where simpler in their own way, maybe if we had been born differently and had grown more strongly…maybe than we’d be the ones pushing the darkness away…from each other…maybe…maybe than we’d be…happy…in one another’s arms.
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Did you see me last night?
Did you feel the rain?
Did you scream for me?
Did you feel my pain?

Oh how I would hold you
How I’d make you forget
Oh how you would smile
How you’d never regret

Did you see my wings?
Did you feel my breath?
Did you hear me whisper?
Did you see my death?

Never remember
Never fear
Close your eyes
I am here

Make your wish
Open your heart
I say my farewell
As I’m ripped apart

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Tuesday, May 3, 2005

....
I'm a fucking moron. I hope this is helping you. God someone kill me.
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Tuesday, April 12, 2005

.....
Yesterday I was walking home and for the first time I actually thought 'fuck everyone I'm tired of living just for them. Death sounds like a better way out.' I've always known I would never kill myself b/c I wouldn't be able to hurt everyone who cared so it scares me that now it really doesn't make a difference.
I know why I'm doing so bad though...partly...I don't want to be bi anymore...because of my sexuality my best friend is the farthest thing from a best friend...even though I don't think she sees that...God it kills I don't like hating my sexuality its who I fucking am but now this and its just hard I can't talk to her about anything anymore and I'd just rather I like guys only than this would never have happened.
I hate the fact that she couldn't tell me she was also gay...it just really hurt...she'll never be able to talk to me like we used to...I hate myself...God...
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Tuesday, March 22, 2005

   .................
If I had known right from the start
I wouldn't have bothered or been torin apart
Things wouldn't have hurt, I wouldn't have cried
Things would have been easy, I wouldn't have lied
If things were different, would it have changed
Would you have cared, would I still feel estranged
Would I still scream and yell in the dark
Searching around for you...my lark
I just wish that I was perfect
Than maybe nothing would have been wrecked
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Saturday, March 19, 2005

   ..............
.....I'm listening to some really good music, but its trigguring.
Bayside:Loveless wrists and
Lisa loeb:she's falling apart. I really love that song. I'm gona post it. to bad you guys can't hear it.

She's Falling Apart
Lisa Loeb

They pull up their chairs to the table
She stares at the food on her plate
At the toast and the butter
Her father, her mother, she pushes away

And they rise in the morning
And they sleep in the dark
And even though nobody's looking
She's falling apart

She gets home from school too early
And closes the door to her room
There's nothing inside her
She's weak and she's tired of feeling like this

And they rise in the morning
And they sleep in the dark
And even though nobody's looking
She's falling apart

They call her for dinner, she makes up a reason
She looks at her arms and she rolls down her sleeves
And her mother is starting to see through her lies
And last night her father had tears in his eyes

And they rise in the morning
And they sleep in the dark
And even though nobody's looking
She's falling apart

And we rise in the morning
And we sleep in the dark
And even though nobody's looking
She's falling apart
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Monday, February 7, 2005

   sorry
sorry travis sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. My mom needed me to go shopping with her. sorry sorry.
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I wrote a little something, can someone tell me what you think.
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I look at your caring stare, I see how your eyes seem glassy, but I know you won’t cry. You don’t like seeing someone you care about hurting so badly, that’s what you say. You say that things get better, that there’s always someone there. But really…is there?
Comforting words ease there way through your mouth. And the same conversation starts again. I know I need help, but can you see that, do you really understand.
I know you to well; you’ve already labeled me as an attention seeker, you believe that I don’t need help.
I’m confused.
I’m alone.
And yet you sit there; you’ve always been there; I don’t think you get the picture; you never will.
The door is slowly shutting as you hurry us into your office. I don’t attend much of these ‘meetings’, but I hate them still. Questions are hurled towards me, and I look on at you; I don’t answer. Superficial, that’s what you are, fake, phony, and artificial.
You gaze at me as if what I do holds no significance. You know what I do. People have told you…I’ve even showed you.
My arms are crisscrossed with scares of different length, width; they cascade as if spiders have weaved their webs on my skin. I don’t do it much anymore; I’ve lost my energy, my drive. You don’t know that. I don’t sleep well anymore, mind you I never really did.
You say I’m fine; you acknowledge what I do; you say that I do it for show, than why say I’m a bad influence? If I bring people down, if I make people worse than before, how can I be fine?
I’m not the one you’ve summoned, I was just brought along; I’m not the one you care about, I’m just someone to answer questions about friends; I’m nothing to you.
You’ve been talking to her, the one that’s beside me, the one you’re concerned about. She doesn’t really care, to her you’re just like everyone else; that makes you want to help her more. This is getting you nowhere so you say the meetings over, we get up and leave; it’s the same every time. If only you weren’t so blind, if only you could see that someday I’ll be gone, and all your accusations, all your beliefs about me will go flying out the window much like my body.
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