i swear i just fully got into that 17.874 % lesbian inside of me. its strange, i have no problem embracing my nudity in front of girls and my gay guy friends but with actual males its different. and i totes just stripped for this really pretty scene girl on tinychat. i am laughing so hard at myself just because it was so random and impulsive. i'm not surprised if my curiosity ends up finding its way to the other side. i could date a girl if i wanted to but sex wise as blunt as it is i like my dicks, thanks. yeah, scandalous but that's not a word i haven't heard before in my vocabulary.

have a little faith in me; growing pains.

the last couple of days have been hard. a lot of thinking. a lot of being alone with my thoughts. and on most days that scares me. i've learned that having clinical depression is going to always be a part of me. there was a long period of time where i was consistently happy, even though there were hard times in between i still smiled. i guess i thought i was strong enough to make this go away, to fight off my demons. the last month or so has been super difficult. it's been a long time feeling these pains again. its terrifying because you think you've defeated it and out of nowhere it just comes back full circle. i know what i'm doing in secrecy is not healthy, i know i am extremely self-destructive and i think i need to start telling people things. even if its scary because i think its important to get some of these things out. no one knows about my borderline eating disorder. this is something i have kept from everyone for a couple years now. the thing about me is i am really good at hiding things. i'm a terrific liar, not that i'm proud of it but it comes in handy in certain situations. i can be so well composed and no one would ever know that behind that mask, underneath that disguise my entire structure is disintegrating. i hide a lot of my best kept secrets well hidden. more like, dangerous secrets.

the thing about me is i don't like talking about, i don't like asking for help and as much as its damaging i do it also so people don't have to worry about me. they don't need the extra baggage. in a way i like to think i'm doing everyone a favour because my problems aren't the easiest to handle and i can be a burden sometimes and i know it as much as everyone knows it. after a while, helping people gets tiring especially when its the same issues recycling over and over again. and i know for the people around me they get tired of it, i am exhausting. i admit that. also, being a stubborn person i like to believe i can handle the chaos on my own. i've always been quite independent and its always a confusing, frustrating battle with myself. on the other hand, there's that tiny part of me that wants people to help me, to save me. to notice. but i can never allow myself to do that because i like to maintain my concealment.

as much as indulging in the depression, letting my own demons take hold of me i'm going to fight this. there are little bits of hope in every day. i know that. i see it. i just need to believe it. and fight for it. there are parts of me that's already regretting my decision but i know myself best that this is what i wanted and that i need to look out for #1 right now. my health is the most important thing to me in this point in my life because my lack in concentration, my severe decrease in serotonin aka happiness is affecting every aspect of my life and i'm letting it control me. i've been listening to the cab a lot, and oddly enough alex deleon's voice and lyrics are kind of saving me. i stayed up late, reading his blog for 3 hours last night and he is truly inspiring. at first i didn't really like his band or him but i decided to give them a second chance. he seems like a real, genuinely nice person. i like how his blogs had explanations // the stories behind all the songs on their record. "I'll Run" and "Take My Hand" are probably my favourites, especially "I'll Run." i have this strange attraction to hopeful songs or sad songs. but there is something particular about the tunes that sing about hope. it pulls at that organ beating in my chest. a reminder to keep fighting.

i know that right now there's a bit of tension in the house. my mum and i haven't exchanged much dialogue since my decision. its as much as a transition for me as it is for her. i know every parent just wants their kid(s) to succeed in life and its difficult watching them make some hard decisions. i just need her to have my support in this. she can't control my life. she can't make these decisions for me. i am terrified okay. i am fucking scared to the bone. i don't know what i'm doing with my life but i'm learning to accept fear because it will always be a part of life and being human. i am learning every day to fight for this. that this is a process that i have to work through. but it'll take effort and patience. i don't have everything figured out and that's okay. nothing is definite. no one knows what the future holds. and i am constantly reiterating this but i believe it so much even though right now there are these aches and pains, i am meant for bigger things. so this is it The Great Perhaps.

have a little faith in me.

if i'm not cutting, i'm drinking, if i'm not drinking, i'm smoking weed, if i'm not smoking weed, i'm popping pills, if i'm not popping pills, i'm having sex, if i'm not having sex, i'm starving myself, if i'm not starving myself, i'm just getting down on myself and really, i don't think i can survive without a vice. i'm self-destructive in and of itself.

free.

yesterday was a big deal. i made a huge decision of taking a leave of absence from school for maximum a year. i'm not dropping out but i think just right now with all my health issues - mental, emotional and physical and the fact that i let myself get behind in school, my education is on standby. its not like i never want to go back to school because i do, i eventually want to get my degree but right now i think its best to concentrate on my health and clear out my system and fix myself. i know i'm going to have a lot of free time on my hands but i intend on being productive but living free. i can't wait to get a job, get my license, work on my art more, read more, write more, take up guitar // piano again, learn to skateboard, take up yoga // meditation and maybe even take some drop in drawing classes. i'm not going to just sit around and do shit all. at the same time, i'm scared. there's this strange fear of just the people i've come to know at school and what they might think. its weird. i don't understand why i'm allowing myself to care what they think because i shouldn't. but i know the truth. its because in a way it feels like i failed myself and they'll see me as indolent and a failure, or they'll judge me for something that isn't true. i don't know. they just seem so sure of themselves like they're grounded and know how to discipline themselves and produce fabulous, amazing works of art, which i don't believe i am capable of. this is a strange transition for me and as much as i have my worries at the same time i feel free. i feel like this weigh has lifted. like i can breathe again. but every day is a battle. as much as i still smile, there's something in me that doesn't fit right or something that's missing. i'm whole but i'm not. i'm confident but i'm not. i'm pretty but i'm not. opposite sides of my brain constantly at war with each other and i don't know what to believe. music is the only safe place. where i feel most sane. even if its just listening to it, in my mind i feel safe with it. and the only place i feel really myself is when i'm alone and writing my heart out on this blog. i am completely on display with my thoughts with every vowel and consonant typed out.

i got really down on myself a couple days ago. and here is the only safe place to say this. i slipped. three lacerations. two one above the other, a good 3 inches above the knee and one on my right ankle. the strange thing is i don't feel guilty at all. and even after 365 days i can't feel a damn thing. nothing. even if it bleeds. fucking nothing. i don't know why but i wanted to see how it felt again. to test myself. and i'm not going to count these. i don't care. i'm still saying i haven't SI-ed in a year. even if it means lying to myself because i know i did this but these don't count. they weren't out of anger or frustration or depression or for control. it was just to see if i could feel it again. but even in the process of doing it it's as if the scissors never graced my skin at all. the sick, twisted thing about this is i kind of like them. i don't know why. scars are intriguing. interesting. and i actually like mine. sometimes i get scared though of people seeing them. i never ever wear shorts. but the majority of my scars on my legs have healed but i don't think i could walk around this city in them. i could do it in a foreign place but not here. because here people know me.

i've been thinking about this lately. about facebook profiles and how they give off this impression of who you are. and maybe its accurate or maybe its not. but for the most part i don't think its fairly definite. i'm a lot more fucked up than people think. people don't know what happens in this house, behind closed doors. the angry, depressing thoughts that race through my mind. how fucking terrible it is when i feel the depression and anxiety in their entirety. they don't know what its like to feel like you're dying. to be close to death. to want to die. to feel like you're being controlled by something that's not you. to have all the happiness sucked out of you, leaving you feeling numb. no one knows how fucked up anyone is except for yourself. i mean how fucked up is that that i actually like my lacerations, my scars? the fact that being mentally sick affected my physical health. to be caged within your own mind? i am a prisoner in my own body.

as much as this hurts, i will get better. i will fight this. because i'm a fighter. even if it takes me 48503852490 times to pick myself up off of the ground. i know in my heart i am meant for bigger things, i am meant to inspire this world and fill it up with hope and love. i am learning to accept failure, take responsibility for my actions, know that its okay to fall sometimes and to love myself. this is a process. it isn't easy but i'm willing to try. and i'm going to be free. free as a bird.

finally.

i don't know what it is but somehow today just feels different. a good different. i've been sick for so long its pretty much been a month. mentally. emotionally. physically. but somehow there is a change in the air. i think at the beginning of february i just got really down on myself, let insecurities and old demons that i thought i had destroyed long ago had resurfaced. i let them encompass me. i let it all get to me. and i believe that when your mental health is deteriorating it affects your physical health. i unknowingly let myself get sick. the mind is powerful that way.

i woke up early, which NEVER happens for me because i like to sleep in. i woke at freaking 8:30 am with The Cab singing in my ears. i woke up with a smile on my face. and somehow this feeling inside telling me that everything is going to be okay and amazing things are coming in the near future. i don't know. this doesn't happen often but when it does i embrace it in its entirety. i don't believe people can be trapped forever. there is always a light. you just have to believe it. depression, anger, frustration, stress are funny things. pain is like a straight jacket sometimes. you're stuck. you can't get out. and you don't know how to feel. and all you can do is just lie there and let it engulf you. but i believe in fighters and dreamers. that everyone is meant for something bigger than themselves.

the only thing that's ever made sense to me is music. i can't even fully express how much it means to me // i can't even reiterate enough how powerful and inspiring it is. i listen to all types of music but i think pop punk really does it for me. i don't know, i've just grown up with it for so long i don't think i could ever stop loving it. there's just something different about it. i mean i know generally most pop punk sing anthems for teenagers and all that teen angst but there's just something so goddamn hopeful about it that i love. the energy. the catchiness. but i love it to death. i know "indie" music is really in these days but i'm so sick and tired of it. i'm having severe pop punk concert withdrawal. there hasn't been one here in van in almost a year, minus warped tour. THERE IS SOMETHING VERY WRONG WITH THAT. i remember pop punk bands used to come every month or two but now its all about these "indie" bands, i don't mind but i'm just really missing an energetic crowd and a decent moshpit. i don't think people understand what's it like to love music this much. i treat it too much like a friend. these songs. its as if someone has been gone for too long and i'm missing them terribly.

on the bright side, i'm going to L.A with my sister in may to visit my cousins and to go see Glee in concert, well mainly my sister wants to go. and apparently Cobra Starship & 3OH!3 are playing while we're there so i'm trying v hard to convince my parents to let me go and let me get my fix. haha. and there is a slight possibility of going to Toronto for Warped Tour and the best thing about that is that i'd be going with my friends from Kenya, my cousin and one of my best friends, Jenny! there are just way too many amazing possibilities happening and i plan to make them happen.

even if you've failed yourself, you can always pick yourself up again. i'm finally feeling real again. and its a damn good feeling.

music snobs - rant.

"you know, music snobs can bag out my music all they like, but at least i know that i’m not going to miss out on some amazingly fun and catchy tunes, simply because it doesn’t meet some sort of petty standard or requirement i’ve created for myself.

whenever i dance around to the shit others refuse to classify as actual music, i feel proud of myself for not buying into the pretentious horseshit that they spill out of their arrogant, egotistical mouths."

a friend of mine said that and i truly believe that. i'm so sick of people criticizing my taste in music. personally, i don't hate one anyone's music. there is not such thing as "good music" because it all differs with people's taste. maybe you like the pussycat dolls so be it, maybe i don't particularly fancy them but hey whatever floats your boat. and i think its completely acceptable and possible that people can like every kind of fucking music. i love the fucking jonas brothers. people may think its shit but i love them. they're fucking catchy. i'm not afraid to tell the entire bloody world that i like them. and i love pop punk to death. and i love everything from the jonai to screamo. and everything in between. i'm so exhausted of music snobs pointing out what's "cool" to listen to and that the more underground you are the more hip it is. give me a break. honestly. maybe you know 8402938409238492 bands i haven't heard of, that doesn't change anything. maybe you have more music knowledge than me but at least i accept all kinds of music and i'm not a fucking prick about it and act like a condescending bitch. i just wish people would stop being so goddamn judgmental. i mean for the love of music. its music. if its makes you feel and dance. it matters. "good music" can't even be defined because everyone has their own fancy and well if you like this band or this artist then that's all that matters right? that piece of music means something to you or its just dwindles down to the simple fact that its catchy. whatever reason, music is music and if anything i know its the one thing that connects every single individual on this planet together. so i'm just asking that next time people act like a music snob, learn to STFU because i never said anything about your favourite band so don't give me shit on the music i like.

// rant over.

i don't understand why people are always so shocked // overreact when they hear i've never had a boyfriend. it's true. I'VE NEVER HAD A BOYFRIEND. deal with it. i never dated in high school because all the guys i knew // at my school were tits and immature and just so ignorant. a huge factor is i got my heart broken for the first time in 9th grade and i closed my heart for a good 4 years. i took rejection severely and on top of that i had a lot of self-esteem issues. they weren't apparent because i never talked about it but its true. i didn't love myself and that is still something i struggle with today. for the most part i love myself a good 98 %. that's pretty fucking good, if i do say so myself. there are some people who are condescending and make me feel as if i should've dated in high school // as if it its mandatory rule. well fuck that. if anything i've seen from high school relationships is they never last. everything is temporary. its fun and exciting but honestly they're so overdramatized and completely absurd. all these pre-teens // teens after just an hour of being asked out completely exposing their new found "relationship" via facebook. i really dislike that about facebook. that whole its not official until its on facebook. STFU. no one cares. it makes sense if you were dating for at least a good 3 months. but c'mon an hour? a day? 2 weeks? don't be ridiculous now. and i'm also aware of the fact that i am a magnet for all guys who are bad news for me. and i've semi-convinced myself i'll be single for the rest of my life.

my head hurts. i can't think clearly.

that guy totes is not in the cab. what a liar. and yeah right, as if you don't go on stickam all the time. YOU ARE ALWAYS ON STICKAM. and by the looks of it you don't have a life and just prey on little girls and ask them to show you their tits on webcam. what a twat.

aches.

there has been this excruciating pain my lower back // stomach area and i haven't been able to eat all day.

it hurts to move and to breathe. not to mention the mental and emotional pain. i am half in a bad place and i just feel so disgusting all over. the thing is, i know its my fault that my health is absolute shit right now. sobriety starts now. no alcohol. no pot. no drugs. at least until i can get my body back in order. i completely fucked up my liver. i just feel so awful right now and i hate how tylenol only works for a couple of hours. i swear to god i'm going to overdose on that shit 'cause i've literally been taking it every 4 hours. bloody hell.

plus, i'm dropping some classes because obviously right now the only thing that matters is my health and i could give a shit less about school right now. i have zero motivation and my concentration has completely dispersed. sleep is a good escape. i've done shit all all day and more than anything i just want this pain to go away because it actually feels like i'm fucking dying. its always in these moments that i miss the hospital the most. i don't know why people are so terrified of them, they kind of speak some sort of comfort and safety for me. maybe i'm just crazy. the problem with school is that i fucked it up completely. i am ridiculously behind and i just keep letting everything slip away. but failure is okay. i've learned to accept it. and that its not the end. everything will work itself out. i just need to focus on my health because my god it's shit. i feel like all my strings in my body broke and it all needs to be tied back together.

skin & bones.

sometimes i lose myself in between the days. the hours. the minutes. as much as procrastination's existence is a prominent figure in my life, i like to think of it as an experiment. everyone has insomnia to some extent but i always challenge myself on just how much sleep i can survive on. almost everything i do in my life is for my mere attraction on experimentation. i like strange challenges. obscurity. bizarre obstacles. danger. the limitations or non-existing boundaries of comfort zones. always wondering at late hours of the night just how to get my inspiration and motivation going. always the how tos. the what to dos. the panic. the hopeful. and everything that settles in between. i know my passions. i semi know my full potential but don't act fully on it. i know i'm meant for bigger things. that place that resides in my chest. that box full of hope and love. it knows things. i am going to do something huge and crazy and amazing. but i don't know how to do it or how to get there.

i know i'm just a hypocrite for this as much as i hate it when people don't recognize their own beauty it seems like at times i can't recognize my own // refuse to acknowledge the "truth." to be honest, i feel really awkward when people compliment me or tell me i'm pretty. i don't know why, it has something to do with being put in the spotlight. i don't like that kind of attention. its never been in me to search for approval from people or to constantly be center of attention. its always been a perplexing understanding to me on how anyone could possibly find me [attractive.] [pretty.] [cute.] [insert complimentary adjectives here.] i am weird within my own beauty. there are days where i'll tell myself i look pretty decent and i've gotten better at growing into these bones of mine but i've noticed i'm not 100 % comfortable being absolutely raw and flawed. i want to be able to look at myself in the mirror without any form of cosmetics painted to my face. i do believe make-up can enhance looks but when its all washed out and gone you're completely naked with apparent flaws. and i think this is the first time i'm going to admit this but i do know // will admit that i may have a borderline eating disorder. i read this article in teen vogue how vegetarianism can be considered a cover up for an eating disorder. personally, i have been one for almost 3 years and it was mainly for my health and for animal rights. the thing is i'm not overly obsessive when it comes to my food. i rarely count calories. i don't pretend to eat and throw it away. for the most part i have a huge appetite but the only thing that i know is a bit concerning is that i feel extremely worried // awkward if i am over 95 pounds. i have never been in my entire life heavier than that, and it seems selfish and absurd that i feel this way but its really uncomfortable when people talk about my weight or how i have such a tiny waist, or how i'm a size 0 or negative whatever. just TO ME i feel [fat] if i go over that 95. plus, i hardly ever weigh myself because scales terrify me.

i know i'm "pretty" but i can't even say that out loud without feeling conceited but sometimes its just so hard to believe things.

p.s to my one follower its funny 'cause you know all my secrets and flaws // a lot of things even my best friends don't even know // are aware of and its kind of comforting at the same time because i feel like you're the only one that understands me. so thanks. :)

where pain and hope collide.

today. every day gets a little bit better and better. this is a tough process. this healing. to mend this [broken heart.] eliminate heartache. all that's broken will eventually alleviate.

even though i'm starting to smile doesn't mean i'm completely whole again. i still think about you sometimes. i always wonder about people. i have this ability to read people, to feel their energy, to get a sense of who they are. i'm not saying its 100 % accurate but for the most part its pretty damn close. i ponder too much on how every individual has a story, how we all have scars - they don't have to be physical, literal. but mental and emotional. we all have something that affects us. we all have emotional baggage. we all have wounds and things inside us that break and hurt. all the unattached strings. i think too much about that. i care too much. i am so intrigued by people's stories. if someone tells you their story, that's a clear invitation of trust right there. at least for me, it is. i know its easy to judge people, its pretty human to do so. but i really wish people could let down their guard of judgement. i really try not to indulge in that because you never know what people are going through and trust me, all those faces you see that smile all the time, always the unexpected ones are the most damaged. you never know how much people are hurting. they are the best actors.

and with this i think we all wear masks too. i find its extremely difficult to be completely ourselves with everyone and people in general. the only time we are infinitely real is in our own solitude or perhaps, in really rare occasions you can trust someone so much you're not afraid to be absolutely vulnerable in front of them. flaws completely on display. raw. we all hide. we all have secrets engraved into our veins.

i think i'm really attracted to tragic characters. damaged people just appear more interesting, i mean i know everyone is detrimental but people who have gone through hell and back. they've been somewhere where most never want to travel to. this whole process of deconstructing my thoughts and allowing time to heal itself has really expanded my understanding of this whole situation. including my heart and mind. and acceptance is everything in terms of letting it be. positive mindset. acceptance. take responsibility. but never give up. never lose sight of hope. even in the most painful, darkest times i still hold onto hope no matter how thin or lose that string may be. its a fight. its not an easy battle. but you have to believe that everything will be okay. that this isn't the end. that there is a light.

"i believe that pain is universal, which is to say that all of us can relate to pain. we break and don't fix easy. we break in different ways, at different times, for different reasons. we lose things. we get stuck in moments. we are slow to forgive, slow to change, slow to ask for help. we are slow to truly love people....pain seems to scream. it asks for all our attention. pain suggests that we are only broken, that we are only all the things in us that ache. certainly, we are responsible for our actions but "forgiveness" is a beautiful word. "change" is a beautiful possibility. "hope" and "rescue" are important words."

- Jamie Tworkowski

if anything. hope is real.

this is the worse my insomnia has ever been. its fucking 6 am. and i've been trying to sleeping for the last 5 hours.

WHAT THE FUCK.

my anxiety and depression are getting out of control.

i don't know.

i've been better. and pieces of my soul are starting to come back to me. but in the quietness of my own solitude. i am completely and so utterly vulnerable. i don't know how to feel. i don't know what to feel. but all i know is that this all fucking hurts way too much. i don't know how to stop the pain. i don't know how to prevent the tears. i feel like i'm just sinking. and every now and again i can reach the surface. but its so hard to maintain safety. happiness. peace.

i'm stuck on you. on this. and i question this every day on why this is affecting me so much. i know i just liked the idea of you. the attention you gave me. how you made me feel [wanted.] [special.] but sweet talk is just another form of deceit. and i always listen to lies. nothing makes sense anymore. but i don't think anything made sense to begin with. everything is suffocating me. paralysis. immobility.

i hung out with adam today. its strange to miss someone even when you're in the same room as them. i guess i just miss what we used to have. that old feeling. and i can't go back to it because it hurts too much and its uncomfortable now. i'm too hung up on someone who just gave up on me and doesn't exactly want anything to do with me. its fucking absurd. i feel so idiotic. but i know at the same time i'm allowed to feel this way but it just seems so goddamn ludicrous. uncertainty is a bitch. i still keep holding onto that memory. that moment when you were staring at my tattoo on my wrist, just stroking it. and i asked you what do you feel? and you said well, if you don't concentrate that hard you can't feel or see the scars but when you do you can. i wasn't even talking about my tattoo. but i knew that connection. that knowing, spoke so terrifyingly. yet it gave me some sense of reassurance, an unknown security.

i feel like i'm dying and no one can save me from myself.

affliction.

i haven't felt my depression with such force in an extremely long time. i forgot what dying feels like. i feel like a walking corpse, i'm dead but i'm alive.

i don't feel safe. i'm fucking scared to death. the terrifying reality that i know i am FULLY CAPABLE of relapsing. that i know i can succeed in hurting myself again. in suicide. but i know i can't allow myself to do that. no. but everything is chaos. and i let people affect me more than they should. i let you in too deep. and now i can't get you out. you've gotten under my skin. and all i want to do is cut you out. i hate that i want to save everyone. but i can't be the rescuer. i can't help everyone. the only person that can save you is yourself. you can have all the support in the world but it all comes down to you, changing for yourself. no one else has that power except you.

i am the best actress. but anyone can fake emotions behind a screen. it doesn't matter how many smiley faces or lol's you type out. no one can ever tell if you're being real or not. i haven't felt this emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted in so long. i just want to sleep for eternity or run away. but you can't run away from your own mind. it'll always be with you. it'll always follow you. inevitable.

i don't know why this hurts so much more this time. i am just so tired of always being this 3 second thing to everyone. just used and abused. its the thing to do. to be inconsiderate. to be mislead. so continue that sweet talk, cloaked with deceit. and i want to hate, i do. i do. i do. i want to throw punches, scream obscenities, say vicious words. but what's the point? its just me. completely taken aback. completely vulnerable. completely damaged. i feel stuck. so incredibly stuck. and i'm wasting away with time. with the seconds. everything just feels heavy.

funny, i don't think anyone knows just how self-destructive i can really be. how much i ache. how much the pain engulfs me whole. the way my head throbs but not because of headaches, because of thoughts. the way that organ beating in my chest feels like its been ripped out and it just leaves that empty feeling. how my entire body feels like its burning. bruised. and broken. such calamity. such suffering. i don't know the way back from the wreckage. i don't know the way out. i don't know how to save myself.

i don't know how to be okay again.