Love is on it's way....hopefully

I don’t know how I became damaged again. I don’t know my way back through the wreckage. Happiness is only temporary. So why does pain feel permanent? I am only content when in the company of certain people. After we depart, go our separate ways and I’m home, the demons scream at me from all directions and I succumb. How did I become so weak? What happened to my strength? And this is so strange…of all the songs that keep me safe the only one that is making me hold on is “Take A Breath” , “A Little Bit Longer” and “Love Is On It’s Way” by the Jonas Brothers. I believe those are the most honest and raw songs from them. So why have I become quiet again? Befriending the darkness, holding hands with razorblades. It’s not just the fear of not graduating, the pressure from the absurd amount of tests/homework/essays, the fact I haven’t done any of my grad transitions with only 4 months left. It’s the fact I have lost my complete support system, at least the ones that are tangible. I mean, I still have my India friends but they live far away. It’s the fact that my two best friends have completely turned into self-absorbed, ignorant, callous people. The fight between them has put a strain on our friendship. And I think out of the three of us, I feel as if I am the one who’s most suffering. I can no longer reach out to them when they fail to understand me. With Nat, everything is a lost cause. She’s traded sincerity for pretense and “superiority.” Congratulations, you have just lost your best friend. With Nichola, she’s already consumed with her billions of problems and I really don’t want to be a burden to her. That’s what it is. Burden. That’s what I am. To everyone. My mum even clearly said that yesterday to me. “You add another stress to my life.” Thanks mum, you have just decayed my hope even more. And minutes before she said that I was going to confide in her but no. That’s out of the question. And my dad? We’re on constant battlegrounds. So here’s to bottling up the emotions because I feel like I’m just protecting everyone from my malicious, harmful self. Trust me, you’ll thank me. You really don’t want to be surrounded by my toxicity. And I know I should tell someone. I know I should speak out and just pick up the phone. But I am fearful. I am so incredibly fearful. Why? Because I know I am just another burden to your problems. So here I am. Stashing all my predicaments internally, into my heart shaped box. And if the demons succeed, scarlet is displayed gorgeously on my body. No, it’s not just wrists and arms. It’s shoulders. Stomach. Legs. Ankles. Hello, razorblade angel. And I no longer know what to do. I no longer know what to believe. I no longer know how to fight. I no longer know hope. It seems so foreign to me. I don’t know if I can survive. I know, it’s scary. But I really don’t think I can. Monday I tried to go as deep as possible. I think I almost hit a vein. Yesterday, I thought about drowning myself. I need help. And I know I do. I know. I know. I know. But how can I when I am so fucking afraid? When everyone doesn’t know, because I am the best damn actress you’ve ever seen. Fake that smile, put up walls and block them out. Distance. My new alliance. I want to believe what the Jonas Brothers are saying when they sing “Hold on another day, ‘cause love is on it’s way, you’ll find it’s gonna be okay….you’ll find a brighter day.” I want to believe that so badly. But it feels so unattainable. So for now while the secret is still kept hidden, I will be the actress. Welcoming razorblades over and over again until somehow I find my way to hope or somehow find the strength to get up off the bathroom floor and fight reality in the face. Until then, I’m sorry if I don’t get to see another day.

p.s It actually freaks me out when I see the views on my page increase. Seriously. I say this all the time but I REALLY DO NOT EXPECT PEOPLE READING MY STUFF. And to my one follower, thanks I guess? 

- My two best friends failing to understand me // dents in the foundation of the center of my 

support system.

- Slipping. SI-ing Sunday. Extremely deep laceration.

- Loneliness -> result of lack of support system.

- Skipping School

- Depression // Condition returned.

- Missing Warped and now Paramore

CAN MY WEEK GET ANY FUCKING WORSE? 

FUCK MY LIFE. FUCK MY LIFE. FUCK MY LIFE. 

I AM BEYOND FRUSTRATED. WORDS ARE INDESCRIBABLE. 

Quotes.

Some quotes that mean a lot to me:

"To have hope is to believe for change, to believe in a better ending."

- Jamie Tworkowski.

"Holding anger is a poison, it eats you from inside, we think that by hating someone we hurt them. But hatred is a curved blade and the harm we do to others, we also do to ourselves."  

- The 5 People You Meet In Heaven

"All I have to worry about is today."

- Renee Yohe.

"I think that people shouldn't be ashamed to wear their scars, and show people, and even tell people 'Look, I've been through lot of terrible stuff in my life', and there's no need to hide it....so, with the carnations, with everything like that, we all have that because we were all on five different paths and now we're on one path, together. And all of our scars will effect each other directly. So we're tied together, for life."

- Hayley Williams (Paramore)

"The only way to heal damaged people is through love."

- My mum.

"Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself."

- Donald Miller (Blue Like Jazz)

"Wherever you go, there you are."

Messes.

Haven't updated in an extremely long time. It always surprises me how many views I get on my blog, even if it's just 248. I really don't expect people to read my stuff.

Well I'm back in my creative mood so I've been taking a lot of pics. I'm really excited about them because I really haven't done any photography in a really long time.

The past couple of weeks have been fucking bipolar. I enjoy the life highs, really I do but they're so temporary that I try not to indulge in them as much because I know if I get my hopes too high, the entire structure begins to crack.

I've been kind of "re-evaluating" my friends. I'm not sure how to put it in a sentence without sounding like a callous bitch. I've basically just been having a lot of troubles with Nichola. It's been an ongoing sort of fight. I am just exhausted of her pessimism and how she is constantly enveloped by her own incertitude and fears. I have been there for her, always giving her advice, lending her an ear but she never takes it in. She simply just agrees and then indulges in the same "solutions" like she always does. Routine. She never wants to try other solutions because they don't speak familiarity, and with that she never ends up doing anything to solve her problems so then it just becomes a complete problematic snowball. Literally. She is a good person at heart but it's difficult now since I've gone through this whole "revolution" as she put it. I am no longer in "October" as I like to refer to my dark times. But sadly, she is still there stuck in moments where all she knows are her demons screaming obscenities and criticizing everything she says, does. At the same time, I'm at a loss for words. I am frustrated. Part of me knows I am outgrowing her and the other half knows I have too kind of a heart to just let her go.

I talked to my yoga therapist about it she asked what I had in common with Nichola and why is she a "good person." It honestly just came down to, music, art and fashion. That's all we have in common. And I consider her a "good person" because she's helped me through all my shit times and she supported me when no one else would. Cliche, I know. But it's true. The problem is that Nichola is super dependent on me. I'll make this short but basically 2 weeks ago we got into a huge fight and we avoided each other for a week. She basically didn't have anyone, I mean she had the other girls - Steph & Kelly but honestly when it comes down to it, she has no one. It's tragic, I know. Oh, and with all that happening it was even more awkward since Nat, Nichola and I all went to Tegan & Sara. We hadn't solved our situation so the entire time we were being all "nice" but it was completely underlined by pretentiousness. She wanted to talk after the gig, but I didn't find it appropriate at the time because we were 1) in a public place 2) Nat was there and despite the fact she knew everything this was our drama and I didn't want Nat to get involved. Since she thought it was unfair (which I admit is true on terms of not talking to her when I told her I would) but after a concert when you have that "concert high" and you're in a place where it's unsuitable, FUCK NO I'm not resolving our drama right there. If I need confrontation I do it when it's appropriate and when both people are calm. She was psychotic. She screamed at me in front of everyone and threw random assumptions at me. I WAS SO CLOSE, to retaliating but I knew it would just make the situation worse. And doing that, I know makes you feel powerless and vulnerable but it's the "bigger person" position and afterall, it is the "mature thing to do." I ended up talking to her on the Monday and we got everything sorted out but there's still a bit of awkwardness.

Also, I'm afraid I'm still holding onto this friendship out of sympathy because I know if I let go. ALL HELL WILL BREAK LOOSE I FUCKING SWEAR TO GOD. Just knowing her intentions I could see her running back to dangerous habits - bulimia, possible self-injury and extreme OCD. But perhaps she needs the breakdown to have her reality check. It's a very complicated situation. I just don't want this weight on my shoulders, it's not mine to carry and I'm not responsible for her.

I feel like Alex from Grey's. I feel the trainwreck coming and I want to run.

p.s I really like that picture I took of myself, I feel like it depicts me in a way to say "this is me, comfortable in my skin despite the scars."

p.p.s I used a Jamie Tworkowski quote for my grad write up. =)

Stayed home all day.

I haven't had a day like this in an

extremely long time.

These mornings when you wake up

to face your harsh reality is the

reason why I'd prefer to sleep for

eternity.

You awaken to find yourself

nowhere close to hope.

Just suddenly enveloped by

dark clouds and haunted by

memories you had buried years ago.

Checked the voicemail today to find

my counsellor called concerned about

my attendance patterns. 

Fuck.

And I have no well constructed lies to save

me this time.

I feel two-faced.

I feel like the fucking epitome of deception.

And I am a hypocrite at best.

& now all my prevarications are reverberating 

off these four walls, as a reminder to say:

I AM THE PROBLEM.

Why should I keep reiterating the words that are meaningless to you?

I sink into a sea of blankets,

as I become enveloped by the sound of screaming vocals.

And Jesse Lacey is singing in my ears tonight.

I can't shake this little feeling.

Lately, the depression has found it's way back from the lair.

And I can feel it tugging at my hair.

Crawling in my veins.

Pulsating in my mind.

And I want to fucking scream.

& today I do not feel well in my skin.

I want to peel back the scabs to reveal the pain.

Oh, the suffering.

say, i don't mind you under my skin,

i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.

Exhausted of your existence.

You breathe pessimism as if

it's the air in your lungs.

& I am done with the foul stench,

this continuous insecurity-after-insecurity.

Replacing proximity with distance.

And no, I am not sorry for my absence.

the storm is comin', the storm is comin' in.

& I could easily deteriorate your self-esteem.

India, how I miss you so.

Nostalgia got the best of me today. 

Spent time reminiscing about India and pretty much everything. I keep having flashbacks about certain points of my life. Perhaps in the company of familiar songs I find truth and honesty yet fear and pain. I get scared a lot of the times. In moments less lit my scars are on display. I am at my weakest. Vulnerable. Fragile and wounded. And that is a part of me. Dark and twisty. 

I miss waking up every morning to a new day with 22 smiling faces. 

I miss eating toast and porridge and putting cornflakes and sugar in it. 

I miss not knowing whether or not we'd be building today.

I miss the calm heat and the unbelievable view from our Ashram.

I miss the tranquility, the feeling of escape.

I miss the children, the most.

I  miss those adorable kids, with their sweet smiles and gentle eyes. 

I miss having a connection with them despite the language barrier.

I miss doing brick/dirt duty and not giving a shit whether I was completely covered in dirt and mud at the end of the day.

I miss fighting over toilet paper.

I miss shadow puppets with Abby, Emily and Steph.

I miss 17 hour bus rides.

I miss stocking up on 10 bags of chips, chocolate and Coca Cola.

I miss Uncle and the cooks.

I miss learning something amazing every day.

I miss Shobah and her immense wisedom and extraordinary perspective.

I miss the company of Arti and Ricky/Ricky hands & "WHATTA DO?! WHATT DO?!"

I miss Chaiyya-Chaiyya-ing & Abby singing to me in Hindi...especially her Humma Humma-ing.

I miss befriending the gecko in our room and Frances naming the one in hers.

I miss Hannah and her 830298492038492348 fears & her rocking.

I miss laughing so hard at Fraser getting locked in his room twice.

I miss Gilbert the Goat.

I miss Prom Night at the Ashram.

I miss REAL CURRY. REAL NAAN. REAL INDIAN CUISINE.

I miss group activities...even the rope game where everyone got mad at Fraser, Sush, Dana, Britt, Tori, Adam and I.....and us making an interpretive dance to One Republic's "Apologize."

I miss the colors, the vibrance, the textures, the culture.

I miss Mt. Abu and Fraser, Frisco and I parkour-ing/jumping off rooftops.

I miss Mt. Abu in general - hiding from the guards, getting kicked off rooftops, sleeping on rooftops, Dana and I breaking Group A rules, 6 of us crowded on one bed, telling Fraser my story, Fraser and I being ninjas, coming back to my room at 6 am. 

I miss Frisco and our silly faces.

I miss dance parties on the bus.

I miss the dynamic between our group and our facilitators.

I miss laughing so hard at inside jokes no one will ever get.

I miss my addiction to GATORADE POWDER.

I miss restling with Charlotte.

I miss warm fuzzies.

I miss late night talks by the yoga rock.

I miss yoga every morning.

I miss seeing cows and llamas in the streets.

I miss going to temples.

I miss learning about spirituality.

I miss bargaining with the street vendors.

I miss people getting offered marriages and cows.

I miss "GROUP B! GROUP A! RULES!"

I miss accidentally getting drunk on the last night.

I miss the markets.

I miss REAL bindis.

I miss henna. REAL henna.

I miss people staring at all the white kids in our group and laughing because we all felt like "celebrities."

I even miss the fucking bugs. The bird in our washroom. The geckos living in our room. The mouse hiding in Hannah's room. 

I miss everything about India and I miss everyone.

I miss COMMUNITY.

So the pic of Ryan Kirkland & I is my prof pic.

Steph asked Nichola who he was & asked her if he was my boyfriend. She thought he was pretty.

LMFAO. I wish.