Friday, October 7, 2011

It's Coming Out as Best I Can Make It

My emotions, anyway.  Written about a week and a half ago:

I don’t know how to start.  I don’t know how to begin.  Nothing – nothing – helps.  I have no therapy, no calm, nothing I can retreat to without worries.  I’m sick – so sick – of feeling everything at once.  It’s all inside me, all inside me, sometimes the good stronger then the bad and sometimes the other way around.  I feel guilty, all the time, because someone’s helping me or I yelled or I did something wrong.  I love myself; I hate myself.  I hate school, I hate people, I hate everything – and then I love school, I love people, I love everything.  I’m in a constant roller coaster filled with HUGE hills and loops, going so fast I can’t breathe.

There are times when suddenly I’ll just panic, just panic and still have to function, to smile.  And what I feel is what I feel – when the good’s stronger, it’s stronger.  When the bad’s stronger, it’s stronger.  It hurts.  It hurts when my mom says I’m a liar, or I’m “turning into a horror”.  That hurts.  It hurts my feelings, and the “I feel” statements don’t help.  I don’t know how to say them.  I don’t know how to say anything anymore.  I’ve lost my voice.

It’s so hard to share things with people now.  And I keep thinking – that’s my problem, always thinking – about things.  I’m not shallow, and whenever I am honestly self-centered I feel awful.  So I think, and I think, and I can’t get my mind off of it because it won’t let go.

Maybe the nothing helps is a lie.  It helps.  Writing helps, reading helps, helping other people helps – but then something happens, something profound or it stops or whatever, and it hurts all over again.  I feel sick all the time.  There’s something ill in my soul.

And I’m terrified.  You don’t know how terrified; you can never know how terrified.  I’m terrified of reaching something good; of medicine and mental diseases.  All I see, all of a sudden all I see, is everything awful.  It’s like good is bad, and bad is worse.  I want to be perfect, and I don’t care at the same time.

“Why aren’t you in IB?  That’s where all the smart kids – top of the line – go.”  My English teacher told me that.  I wanted a faster curriculum – something, something, that wouldn’t actually leave me bored.  But I’ll still be bored in English – I may be Honors, but I’ll always be ahead of the other kids.  It’s my subject.  I live in my writing, my reading.  If you found everything I’ve ever written, and you were smart and deep, you could piece together everything.  You could figure out what I can’t say, not even here, because sometimes there are not words.

Sometimes there isn’t a fix.  Sometimes it just gets worse and worse.  Math is awful – so awful – and I wish it could just go away.  That I could stop taking it.

Do I or don’t I want to go to college?  It’s like college is a factor of math.  If I don’t have to take math – or maybe not very much of it – it’s okay.  It’s all okay.  Maybe that’s the one thing I really do hate – math.  Just thinking about it makes me sick.

And it can’t be a focus.  Math isn’t it.  Don’t give me your damn advice; screw your intentions, you’re dead wrong.  You may have gone on a rollercoaster, you may have had a hundred plus issues, you may see yourself in the words I write, but you have no clue.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve shared every experience I’ve had.  It’s my issue, and only I can understand.

I miss people – so many people.  I miss my dog and my dad, and somehow I’m missing people I never met.  Nobody gets it, either.  I’m trying to talk, to scream.  I’m calling out for help but nobody knows.  I don’t know how to say.  But it’s not right.  I blame them – and I blame myself.  But how am I supposed to find the right words?

I’m trying to find sanity – some clarity, something to cling to that’s O.K. – but I can’t.  I try and blame my problems on something, but it’s not that.  The fact of the matter is I don’t know.  I just don’t know.  I can’t deal with questions, I can’t deal with being judged.  And please – oh gosh, please – don’t hate me.  I’m struggling.  I’m struggling to love and care and it’s hard.  So, so hard.

I don’t know… I want to turn to Heavenly Father, but I don’t.  I don’t want to turn to Heavenly Father.  My prayer would be silent, would be silent in my thoughts.  I’m doubting, so hard, if this is right, if this is really true – and I don’t know.  I don’t know how to turn.  What if I’m making up feelings?  I’m so scared I’m doing that, all the time.  What if I was never close to the Spirit?  Am I worthy to go to the temple?

Is all this just for attention?  Just to be noticed?  I don’t know.  I don’t know.  I don’t know.  I’m so lost, and confused, and feeling everything at once.  I don’t know how to get away.  How many times am I going to want to die?

Oh gosh, please nobody act weird.  That’ll make it worse – everything makes it worse – but it’d be worse then if people acted normal.  I hurt, all over and everywhere.  I get so upset I make myself sick.  I’m tired – all I want to do, all the time, is go to bed.  Just sleep.  Just sleep until I die.

Do I want to die?  Do I want to die at fourteen – nearly fifteen – years old?  I don’t know.  Two months to fifteen, and I don’t know if I want to live or die.

I just want to be okay.  That’s all I know – I want to be okay.  I want to feel things, once or twice at a time, not everything at once, all contradicting itself.

How do I free myself from a trap that’s inside an infinite amount of traps?  Life is a trap, sadness is a trap, death is a trap, happiness feels like a trap.  Giving up – letting things happen as they happen – feels like a trap.  It takes courage to do anything but give up, walk like a zombie.  It takes courage to kill yourself – a misplaced courage, I’m aware.  A wrong courage – but courage all the same.  It takes courage to live – a bright courage, a light courage.

But I don’t have courage.  I’m scared of giving up.  So everything traps me.  I’m stuck in a corner, surrounded by monsters.  I’m in a cage, and slowly it’s being bricked up while the maze completes itself, and it’s only dead ends.