Dear "Edward",
I still have yet to meet you. I look everywhere for you, I even try to imagine you in my dreams. It's getting hard to keep my faith, that you exist and are out there. I'm struggling to cope, especially giving up my deck of cards. It's hard to explain to others why you mean so much to me, and why I am waiting for something so unfathomable, but I exist. Some have trouble fathoming me, my good side at least, but they don't understand my disorder, don't understand the rational in the unrational things I do. I wish it was as simple as a game of cards, some sort of cheat sheet that I could print out to explain myself and the erratic things that I deal with inside of me. I feel like an outsider. A reckless astroid spinning out of control in an alien atmosphere trying to steer its way into the pinhole of an alternate reality, a better place that is merely a rip in the grande chaotic scheme of today's society.
It's just like the new TV series that I am already addicted to: Rookie Blue. I just watched the most recent episode and McNally finally nearly hooks up with Swarek, a guy who truely cares about her and has her back always but then she gets a call from the detective who is more concerned about the case and dead corpses than her and she is sucked back into logic. UGH. Just wondering if there is a chance I will ever meet the right guy. I mean in the movies and in series there are good guys who have the backs of other characters, but do they exist outside of the media? Who in my life is watching out for me? I feel like no one really knows me to have my back. I can lie to their faces and they would never call my bluff, cause they dont pay attention, they dont care.
A close friend made a comment that those programs are made up of overly-romantic screen writers and used Twilight as an instance. "OHMAIGOSH, EDWARD IS SO PERFECT". My response was, "I am Edward! I am an over-analytical, over-protective, overly-romatic, overly-dedicated and passionate person who would willingly sacrafice my life for those I love and care about with no hesitation." Thats what is so frusterating, I mean another "Edward" has to exist cause I do, right? . . . Right? *Sighs* I hope so.
I feel like a tiny rubber ball charged with bipolar matter, bouncing back and forth between emotions. I just wish someone would be there for me like I am there for all of my friends. I just wish, someone could know when I was down and hold me, whether I admitted I wanted it or not. Cause I need it.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Behind Closed Doors.
I'm losing it.
I've finally thrown away my deck of cards. Alcohol. Drugs. Perscriptions. Cutting. Burning. Eating. Driving. Spending. Sleeping.
I'm staring in the mirror and I can see the itch in my eyes to find a quick fix. My mind sounds like a broken washing machine, trying to think of a clear healthy way to take the pain that I'm in and process it. Why the pain revolves so easily around this certain person in my life - perhaps because every time we are good, I feel like he replaces me. Over and over again, I am replaceable, I will never be a permanent fixture, I will never be that good. I try to find someone to fill the hole inside me.
A companion. A whore. A 420 friend. A writing buddy. Anyone from Teenchat.com.
I can feel my desperateness seep from myself, from my need to find someone, something, anything. I have no follow-through. I find and I erase. I have standards, I will not lower them or turn my back on my religion, my beliefs. I am worthy of someone better than this, than all of this. Need to be better, need to be someone.
He chose him over me again. Actions scream so much louder than words. They echo, they resonate your devious mindset. You don't care, I am nothing to you, I am a pawn in your game of chess, merely a dedicated soldier willing to lay down my life for you, a life you will use unthinkingly to keep your reign.
Where is my deck of cards? Why did I throw them away? The need to stable myself is too strong to ignore. . . Square One again. Desperate, willing to do anything to numb, ease, or pretend the pain isn't a slow-working-acid that I have poured into a bath and am partaking of first hand.
UGH. I need to find a way to climb out of this vicous cycle. But how?
I've finally thrown away my deck of cards. Alcohol. Drugs. Perscriptions. Cutting. Burning. Eating. Driving. Spending. Sleeping.
I'm staring in the mirror and I can see the itch in my eyes to find a quick fix. My mind sounds like a broken washing machine, trying to think of a clear healthy way to take the pain that I'm in and process it. Why the pain revolves so easily around this certain person in my life - perhaps because every time we are good, I feel like he replaces me. Over and over again, I am replaceable, I will never be a permanent fixture, I will never be that good. I try to find someone to fill the hole inside me.
A companion. A whore. A 420 friend. A writing buddy. Anyone from Teenchat.com.
I can feel my desperateness seep from myself, from my need to find someone, something, anything. I have no follow-through. I find and I erase. I have standards, I will not lower them or turn my back on my religion, my beliefs. I am worthy of someone better than this, than all of this. Need to be better, need to be someone.
He chose him over me again. Actions scream so much louder than words. They echo, they resonate your devious mindset. You don't care, I am nothing to you, I am a pawn in your game of chess, merely a dedicated soldier willing to lay down my life for you, a life you will use unthinkingly to keep your reign.
Where is my deck of cards? Why did I throw them away? The need to stable myself is too strong to ignore. . . Square One again. Desperate, willing to do anything to numb, ease, or pretend the pain isn't a slow-working-acid that I have poured into a bath and am partaking of first hand.
UGH. I need to find a way to climb out of this vicous cycle. But how?
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