Christmas Eve Eve

Well this turned out to be a more eventful day than I would've liked. It was bad enough I woke up with a headache that no matter how much excederin I took, wouldn't go away. Got sent out with my dad for last minute gifts my mom wanted and got sick. Well, not like throw up everywhere, but incredibly queasy and weak and shaky. I was just about ready to drop when we got a call from my mom saying my grandma was being rushed into the ER because she couldn't breathe and was having chest pains. Then later found out my cousin who is overdue was going to the same hospital to get induced into labor. So after all that news, supper time. Ate about half a chicken tender and 3 french fries at Culvers. Felt pretty dang bad.

You see, I'm big into tradition and family. This idea really hurt, really wore on me. It was bad enough four years ago when my grandpa was in the hospital. It was the first event that put all these screwed up Christmases into motion. And now, needless to say, my cousin will definitely not be celebrating with us and I don't know about her mom. And my grandma? No idea. Christmas Eves have been dwindling down steadily the past few years and it just kills me. And is probably the reason I still feel like I could throw up.

Also started thinking how I was sick HOURS before I heard the bad news, and that this has actually happened before. One time I got so sick if I wasn't curled in bed with eyes closed I would practically collapse. And that night my friend was in a car accident. I was three hours away from her. I didn't even know it happened, but it happened the same time I felt so sick. And this has happened before. Is this possible I can sense things? Especially with people I'm close to?

I feel like there is something different about me. But then I feel stupid to bring anything up. I can't really tell this to anyone. They all just scoff and laugh at me. I try to rationalize it somehow with maybe a gift God gave me. But I can't even say that to a Christian. Such a high rate of skeptics, and usually for good reason. But what happens when you really personally feel differently? And what happens when you really can't find an identity other than "maybe God has a different plan for me and that I'm special" but then face it, that's a load of crap isn't it? I just so desperately desire to be different in hopes I'll feel like I'll understand myself then. And no one wants to talk to you when you speak that way. Even if you try to keep it on a tangent of faith, they still just laugh. Man. Can't talk to anyone.

Probably why I'm so invested in facebook and twitter. Maybe I get a little too into it and made fun of because I can't get enough of "connecting" on my phone or computer. It's nice people are secure enough that they feel like they don't need to be in a community. But I probably tweet about Kristin Chenoweth too much because I just want to feel like I belong. Even if it is among the crazy Cheno fangirls. And she speaks so nicely of her fans, her "twitter family." I just want to feel like I'm a part of that family.

I don't want tomorrow. I don't want Christmas. I couldn't even do my usual Christmas shopping for my family and I hate it. Nothing is right. I want all this to be over. I want the norm again.

Anti-Nephilim

So I told my dad about my possession dreams. He wrote them off as "just dreams" at first until I told him how violent they were and that the devil has been there and actually told me to come fly with him. May possibly be the most serious I've ever seen my dad's face. And then he said "I wonder why he would be so afraid of you." That took me back. Cause he's exactly right, why would the devil be afraid of me?

So thanks to my screenplay I'm writing for class, I'm delving into the spiritual warfare side of things (which has always been a favorite topic of mine anyway), and my dad is helping me out whatever way he can. So he brought me upon the terms Nephilim, Emim, Rephaim, and Anakim which I feel like I should've known about for a while but being the bad Christian I am, of COURSE I wouldn't know ANYTHING from the Bible. Anyways. I took to this Nephilim thing quickly. In my mind it clicked perfectly. And I realized that was because I've always been able to sense the Nephilim of the here and now.

Oh, Nephilim (if you don't wanna look it up): Essentially demons. Fallen angels like Lucifer that have affected gene pools to try to stop God's prophecies. Genesis 6:4 and Numbers 13: 33. Supposedly the races (Emim, Rephaim, Anakim) were exterminated way back in Old Testament time, but since these are demonic forces at the root of them and well, they can't really be exterminated, there could be a possibility they're getting stronger again for another war.

Anyway, my entire life I've always been incredibly hyper sensitive to the spiritual presence and nature behind everything, from why a person doesn't signal to change lanes to political choices and in between, I feel the spiritual undertow at work. And this presence never had a name before to me, but Nephilim sums it up perfectly.

And I started thinking back to everything: Why was I so attracted to the supernatural and paranormal since I was incredibly young? I didn't get that from this household. Why do I have such a deep desire to be so close in my faith and relationship with God but I don't fit into the actual human community of a church? Why do I feel and see forces that are not of this world? Why do I act and feel more erratically when an injustice occurs? Why in my dreams am I being fought over? And why would someone jump to the conclusion that I was a threat to the devil?

After telling my dad that in these possession dreams, I've been thrown into walls and ceilings, felt something inside me take my body over, seen and been tempted by the devil, and woken up screaming God's name and that when I'm alone in my apartment I'm sometimes afraid to go to sleep because there is no one around to help me, he assured me that only people of strong spiritual faith would have something like this happen to them, and that the devil can't hurt me, only scare me. And even Jesus was tempted and attacked.

So I came to the conclusion, that maybe I am something important. Maybe I'm an "anti-Nephilim" of sorts. I can see it, discern it, weed it out even when the earthly part of it looks pretty. And I've had such an identity problem even as I'm supposed to have matured as an adult. How is it that I can be so strong and convicted but not get along with anyone who is supposed to be just like me?  Hah, maybe I don't live completely in the real world. Because there is more to this world than our reality. And call me fucking crazy or stupid or psycho Christian or whatever, but maybe I am something more than this worthless human being. And maybe my genes aren't affected, but something is different with me. I really am just a little different than everyone else. Or maybe I am a lunatic. But if I am one, I'm giving myself the title of Anti-Nephilim.

Just to Say...

I can't do things like other people. They don't understand that. And they just get mad at me.

I have dreams weekly that I'm being possessed. I'm afraid that they aren't dreams sometimes. And I'm certain they mean business. Do you know what that must feel like?

I see the sadder side of people, the side of hurt. I'm keyed in on that. Sensitive to it. I think it's beautiful. For some reason, it can be nice to be reminded that everyone is broken. And if they tell you they aren't, they're lying.

"There are no extras in life, only key players." --Synechdoche, New York

I really want to apologize for how emo I am. Except I don't know who to apologize to. I get upset thinking I upset my family but then that just makes the emo worse and nothing gets resolved.

Well. That's all.

People are Really Bad

This isn't an overstatement and this isn't an exaggeration. Have you ever watched those shows like "Most Shocking Dangerous Drivers" or "World's Wildest Police Videos?" Have you seen some of the carnage that those people do to other people because of their insolent, inconsiderate, and quite frankly evil behavior? People are really bad, ya'll. Humans, we're horrible. Between the sociopathic murderers and the drunk driving assholes, we don't have a chance. Ya know we're damned right? We should be. We have no redemption qualities at all.

Like a speeding semi asshole in the middle of rush hour on Long Island who floors it through three lanes of traffic and pins a car between him and a bus that is nothing left but twisted metal in the end. Why would someone do that? What in a person's mind thinks that's ok?

That's the scary thing you know that? The scary thing is that people don't have a sense of right or wrong. There are too many of them, they hurt people, they kill people and I wish they weren't on this earth. I wish we were all dead and that the dolphins were the most intellectual creatures on this earth. Actually, quite honestly, I'm pretty sure they already are.

I really just want to ask, why do you do it? You're caught on camera doing something criminal and fatal to other human beings and in the setting it's clear it was completely uncalled for and doesn't make sense. I'm not ok with "I wasn't paying attention, thought I was fine." That is not an acceptable answer you know. Things aren't about you and you should NEVER think that just YOU are FINE. YOU are an ASS. YOU deserve to be BEHIND BARS. There are 6 billion people on this planet, and if you are not aware of who and what is around you, you should not be here.

I'm always afraid when I'm driving on highways, or anywhere really. I'm convinced that dumbass semi that is speeding way over the speed limit and trying to pass me on black ice is going to kill me. In fact, just yesterday and ass semi driver almost turned left ON TOP of me when I was waiting at a stop light. I'm so afraid. I'm afraid of living on this planet a lot of the time because humans are too unpredictable and will hurt other humans whether it was "on purpose" or not. I have a 2 hour drive when I'm in my apartment to go back home, and I practically cry sometimes thinking about with what our winter weather conditions will be and the kind of douchebags that will be on the road that I don't even want to get out of my apartment. Sometimes I don't even want to get out of bed.

God, why did You choose humans? Why did You forgive them? They aren't good, they are terrible. They're a damned and condemned race and they deserve every bit of that damnation. Why would You accept them? I hurt just thinking about how these people that don't deserve You get Your acceptance. I don't deserve you either. I don't kill and I'm always aware of the thousands of other people around me wherever I go, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm terrible and damned as well. I know that, and I know I deserve being damned and I can deal with it. It would suck, yes, but without You I'd still be able to deal with the fact that when I die I'm going to be tortured for eternity cuz yes, I deserve it.

Maybe this sounds like an exaggeration, and it's true not a lot of people understand the extreme depths of my mind. I know it's extreme, but that's part of the way my mind works. Every type of personality disorder deals with the fact the person sees things strongly and in right or wrong fashion. If people want to lock me up, well, I wish they would. I might feel safe in a padded white room.

I just don't understand. People are bad.

Decision

I've randomly decided that if anyone can't see past the cold safety shell/attitude that I make for myself to find the real vulnerable and gentle soul that is inside, then they don't deserve ever getting to know me. Outer appearances still only mean everything, don't they? And you triple threat girls prove that. I'm as good as you. But I'm not going to whore my happiness out to every person I see. It's mine and it's special and those who are special in my life deserve to be a part of it and enjoy it. Stop taking things you triple threat whores.


Right, back to homework.

Ignorant State of Bliss

Is it possible that self-medication can be ok? I mean, medication implies fixing. You need medicine when you're sick and it's not always something as simple as a cold. So if you understand it, why can't you self-medicate? I mean, what is the difference of numbing your pain away with a shot as opposed to a mental projection of meditation as long as you're fully aware of how it works? And when that also gets you positive attention, what is so bad about it? When you're able to talk and engage and laugh, why why WHY can't you do it? If you're not sloppy or falling over or trying to hump everything in sight, why shouldn't you be allowed to *enhance* your personality? That's all it is you know, enhancement. Enhancement never killed anyone. You can't fix a disorder. Perhaps you can mask it?

Oh I know... Hell is going to break loose. I'm in for a world of trouble. But this world of trouble is better than a world of alone. Because you know what? I really like that attention, that focus on me. And if someone thinks I'm a lush? Well then so be it. Ten to one I'm having more fun than them anyways.

Sometimes a person just needs to be saved. Those are the ones that are alone. You can call me Linda Salerno. Look for me on a bridge on my birthday.

In Desperation?

I'm finding it's easy to bond over topics that are "questionable" and possibly "immoral." The fact of the matter is, people with looser morals happen to be more accepting. There usually aren't many questions asked when around them, as long as you're there and have a shot or two with them and maybe allow a little bit of groping. Beyond that, they don't care what kind of person you are. Why is it so hard for that acceptance in a church? Those people are so "deep," so caught up in the personal intentions of others and if those others are worthy of of being in their presence. They want *substance.* They want *spiritual connection.* They want *emotional connection.* They want the hardest things to create between two people and that creates high standards. I've always had such high standards, it's true. But I don't think these same standards need to apply when trying to find a group of girlfriends to go shopping with.

And the fact of the matter is, if I walked into a church I've never been to and sat and participated for an hour in the service or walked into a bar I've never been to and sat at the bar for an hour sipping a captain and coke, do you know who would engage a conversation with me and hang out? Someone in the bar. You Christians, what the hell are you doing? Why are you so cliquey? Why have every single one of my experiences since I was a child been unpleasant? And God, why?

And the other fact of the matter, at this point in my life, I'm just looking for people to spend time with. And if they are the drunk one night stander weekend partiers who trade stories about their latest sex toys and excursions....Then so be it.

"Christians should only date Christians. Christians should only hang out with Christians." I've heard it so much....And I agreed. And that is the hardest part in all this. Because I don't agree with it anymore. Because I'm doing something wrong. I've been doing something wrong my entire life for it to NEVER work out. And now I'm in this too deep. And I know I'm not that kind of girl. I tried it once and it didn't do enough for me to want to repeat it. But if these people will give me the time of day, if they will hang out with me and shop with me, and go out to eat with me, and *talk* to me, and even share my interests.... I can't leave now. I'm sorry God. I really am. I will never blame God for what has happened to me, because it is a human condition what I suffer from others, and I have hit survival mode. Desperation mode. I am so sorry.

Ebenezer Scrooge

I should really be in bed, but I just watched Muppet Christmas Carol because, well, it's a piece of my past and childhood and muppet movies are fun. And the statement I want to make is: I don't think Ebenezer Scrooge was really that bad...

I don't find him inherently evil. Like it was his only goal since he was born to terrorize and attack and make all others around him suffer like some kid from The Omen. And I find I identify with him probably more than I should. But I like Christmas a lot, so I think I'm in the clear. Now, I can only go off this version since I haven't read the book and haven't really seen or paid attention to any of the other movie versions (mainly because there is no singing involved), but I'm not seeing Scrooge purposefully out to get anyone like a terrorist may do to get recognition.

He was studious, knew what he wanted right away, seemed he was concerned about making sure he could live a stable life in a maybe unstable world. He stayed behind after school was over to work on his studies, and his headmaster encouraged him. Now, maybe he was pushed some into it by the headmaster, and he clearly at that young age had begun to lose perspective of the whole spectrum that life has. That there is "play" as well as "work." And he found love, but he didn't know what to do with it. He was preoccupied with work, which is very common in this day and age. He was always concerned about the finances, not being able to spend money for a wedding, and was incredibly flawed from that. I think he had the best intentions to his ability, but it drove everyone around him away because it was just too much and too narrow minded. After all, there is that saying: The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The movie clearly depicts all these life events that shaped him happened on or the day before Christmas, which makes me think he could be jaded towards that holiday. When he's asked about how he sees all the happiness on Christmas day and can only respond with "no spirit, I'm sorry, I don't," I get it. I'm jaded with certain things like that myself. Places, communities, not so much holidays in a whole. That gives me an understanding for his aggression against Christmas at the beginning of the movie. He abhors it and has good reason (as he thinks) for it, but he fails to see the other millions of people around him who still have a chance and can still be happy from it. Yea, he is very selfish.

I can't help but feel a little he focuses so strongly on his job and finances and his own well being and his own sense of the law with making sure renters pay when they should or they get kicked out because he didn't want to be a part of the real world anymore. He didn't want to go back to the past and watch his fiance break up with him all over again, he was conscious about that; it was another part of the past he was blocking out by focusing on something that doesn't let him down: a job. His cold hearted outer shell became a defense mechanism because he knew he had screwed up in the past. And he screwed up bad in the past. I know that one too.

But he had feelings and he had a conscience. He wouldn't have asked if Tiny Tim was going to survive if he didn't feel a connection and empathy for the crippled child. He wouldn't have been hurt when his nephew made a joke at his expense. He wouldn't have lashed out and said "I want no more of this" because he was hurt and afraid of what else could be coming at his expense. He wouldn't have been concerned of the person whose death was rejoiced about if he didn't feel. And no one wants to know that after they die, people will rejoice because of this fact. And no one wants to know that no one will show up to their funeral.

All my life, I was under the impression that Scrooge was this terrible man, and when someone said "don't be such a Scrooge" to someone else, it was a huge insult. But he is no more than a broken man. He is no more than a broken man who felt the only way to survive was to shut others out and focus on something that would never let him down: work. And I understand it. I get it, I get it so much. I'm not pardoning his behavior because he did do and say some things that are wrong, but if you've ever felt jaded or hurt or lost or broken, haven't you?

I'm Falling Apart

I'm up too late. I don't know why. I haven't gotten appropriate amounts of sleep lately and I'm getting sick from it. But I just say tomorrow is Friday and I don't have to do anything, so I'll just stay in bed all day and listen to my ipod and I don't know, meditate or something. Reflect, if you will. I guess.

I am walking now. Well, it's more like a painful hobble, but I'm doing it. And it was thrilling to be able to take a drink from the kitchen to the living room, and even more thrilling to be able to take a drink from that while transporting it from one room to the next. And I'm really happy about that. And I'm genuinely grateful and thankful. And I know God knows this.

But there are parts of my life that are much harder to feel good for. There are things that are too up in the air too close to my future that could put me in ruins. And there are mental health issues that need to be addressed before I even think of attempting an independent lifestyle again. And now sitting here with it rushing through my head, I realize. I'm falling apart.

Can't work with this injury. Can't earn money. Can't continue living on my own. Current apartment lease will be up in January, and I have about 2 weeks to turn in my notice that I will be leaving it. Can't find a new place to live anywhere in the cities because I do not have a job location to aim for. And can't find a job when I don't have a place of reference to go off of. And no one is going to take you seriously when you're hobbling around in a boot.

I withdrew officially from my program at my school that I was so strategically placed to live by. I don't know if I want to go back. The past 2 quarters I attended class, I could feel myself slipping away from it. The structure of the classes wasn't meshing well, the class topics themselves I had all but lost interest in, I went through by the skin of my teeth. And by a lot of anxiety battles that I don't actually think I won. Just survived.

Had a big long talk with my dad about that today. Shared my completely irrational fear of well... School environments that, because it is my perception, it is my reality. Something about knowing I know nothing of a particular thing makes me terrified to be around other people in the class working on the projects and sharing the projects. I understand well that you can only learn what you don't know and you gain confidence as such, but that is not an option in my head. And no matter what I chant over and over again to myself, it won't stop my body shutting down. And I'm terrified to go back into that environment. This has been a breather for me.

My dad asked if the anxiety and fear was taken out of the equation hypothetically, did I feel I had an interest or somewhat of an innate ability for what the program offered? Because if you didn't have an interest and ability, it would be pointless to continue on in a program as such. I hated myself because... I do have an interest. And ability. Because I can't see myself ever doing something else. The arts are where my passions lie, where I want to be. I so badly want to say my passion is business management and that I deeply desire becoming a CEO of a Fortune 500 company so I can go into a field of stable and steady and less uncertainty. Or accounting. Anything. But the fact of the matter is I CAN'T say that. Because it is not true.

I've found myself recently looking at apartment listings for everywhere from New York to New Hampshire to Minneapolis. It's clear I'm restless and that's not a big surprise. And when I shut my mind down it's clear I would like to live closer to the core of Minneapolis, possibly near Uptown or Lynlakes but even Roseville would be ok. So what do I do? Spend hours researching roommate wanted or shared housing listings on craigslist before coming to the conclusion that damn, I'd love to pay cheaper like they promise, but I can't give up my independence of what I've had. And most of the places don't have room for everything I've collected since I started living on my own. So I started looking up apartments and actually finding some really great prospects for the area I'd love to be in that isn't outrageous in price for the area.

Now stop. I can't do that. I can't pay. And what about school? If I take out my fear and anxiety problems, I should in theory finish the program. And dammit, I know I'm close, I really know that. But my apartment is DONE in January, and the death seal is set the end of this month. It breaks my heart to think moving back home is in reality. I mean, I like my home and my family and I'm appreciative and grateful for all my parents do for me and they probably treat me better than I deserve a lot of the time, but I remember when I lived at home and how miserable I was just from social and mental stimulations and qualities not met. And it would be such a hassle to drag all my stuff back. And once again, where would we put it?

Inside I just feel broken. Like something is just shriveling up inside me. There are so many tangents and problems stemming from this one occurrence that was not my fault. And if I stop to really take it seriously, they are all incredibly severe and yes, serious problems for my way of living. And I just really don't wanna go back to doing photo shoots of cut up bodies as a way of self-expression. Because I still remember when that was all that I felt was going for me not too long before I moved. That regression would be awful. But likely. And I don't know if I can do this.

Faith is still there. I'm sure you wouldn't believe it, but faith is the easiest thing for me sometimes. Mainly because it isn't something I have to analyze and constantly try to understand and make it happen. It is faith. It is faith somehow things will be as they should. And maybe sometimes it's just a notion to try to make myself feel better, but I don't doubt that that is how God works. This tree thing meant something, but it is no good sitting trying to think of the endless possibilities that probably aren't even remotely near the truth of what it really meant. And sometimes faith is a great way to give you an escape from your thought. Thoughts can kill. They've killed me before.

Christianity

I have to write this, because I have too many questions I can't understand. I only desire understanding, peace of mind, truth, and comfort. And this has been on my mind since forever probably. I'm just confused.

I understand the faith side of Christianity. I understand the Word, Truth, Light, whatev, all that good stuff. And I believe it and live it and thought that was enough. But I don't understand the other people. They range from partying lives to strict collared dresses lives. And pop culture connoisseurs to people who don't own radios or TVs. And I get confused as to what's right.

See, I'm a black and white person. I don't have gray in my radar. Things either are or they aren't, and that is probably one of the reasons I have a few....Identity issues. I'm always seeking constant validation to know I'm "right' or "doing right." This is part of the personality disorder I guess. Possibly part of borderline personality disorder and actually probably most of them. But, now, because of this, I do live life as yes or no, right or wrong, black or white, never in betweens. I'm sure that's not healthy, but this subject isn't about my mental health state. Well, it is a little.

It is in the sense I don't know if I'm a good Christian. I get scared and worried that because I like sitcoms like Will and Grace or that I wear halter tops in the summer or that I like Halloween that I'm inappropriate and wrong. I'm this terrible little hypocrite of a girl.

But where are the lines? We all know the Amish and Menonite cultures adhere to strict dress code amongst other things. But is it necessary to be so consumed in worry that someone's collarbone is going to show? And are motorized vehicles really evil?

My problem is I have a real hard time with people telling me what to do. I don't like being ordered or controlled and I'm just lucky I have an antisocial disposition or else I probably would have been in jail a few times for disturbing the peace. But I do have a terribly hard time being oppositional. I remember when I was in college the Christian group there had given us a link to this "modesty" survey that supposedly polled a certain number of young Christian guys about women and modesty and what they feel is appropriate attire. Long story short, these pussy boys that they got had results like "If she was wearing a halter top I'd see her arms and shoulder blades and that could lead to wanting to see more." It was terribly controlling of women in my opinion, and it also made the guys look like they didn't even have to control their temptation needs. They just had to tell us we look a little slutty in our halter tops and then it was our fault.

Now, I am the most quiet thing in the world in social situations as I'm sure we should have figured out by now. I was in a bible study for a semester and made sure I blended into the walls more than the conversations every time. But on this occasion, when asked of our opinions of this particular survey, I blew up. I wasn't going to stand being controlled in the name of a God when suddenly we, the women, were all to blame because we have boobs on our torso. The men had taken no responsibility of realizing their piggish temptations or try to fight it as best they could in the name of THEIR God, but instead said we did everything wrong by wearing whatever kind of clothes we wore. I won't stand that. I will not take that.

But now where does that put me? Does that mean then that I'm a traitor to this religion? I won't let anyone tell me what to wear, what to eat, when I should be worshipping, what to drive, what to give to the church, what to watch. It feels so unimportant when I thought all along this "religion" was originally meant to be a "relationship" with God. I'm sorry, that's what I believed all along. I am incredibly strong in this faith, the actual faith part that makes the relationship. I'm not strong with... Only being able to eat fish on a Friday or only worshipping on a Saturday or being restricted to stay indoors on a Sunday.  I'm this new breed of Christian. And I don't know where I fit.

I fear if I walk into a church, try to join a youth group community of people my age, I'll soon discover that since I like Sean Hayes or Ru Paul and that I dressed up as a fairy for Halloween and had a bonfire with friends, they'll excommunicate me. I just don't understand the people of Christianity anymore and it frustrates me. I have so many identity issues and I'm just trying to find strength in myself as something, preferably with a strong faith background, that this makes it even harder. And I'm scared that if I'm in constant fight with someone I thought was like me.... What does that mean?

So I Thought

This randomly popped up on my itunes. I didn't even realize I owned this. Looked up the lyrics. Sometimes songs peg you, don't they?

All your twisted thoughts free flow
To everlasting memories
Show soul
Kiss the stars with me
And dread the wait for
Stupid calls returning us to life
We say to those who are in love
It can't be true 'cause we're too young
I know that's true because so long I was
So in love with you
So I thought

A year goes by
And I can't talk about it

On my knees
Dim lighted room
Thoughts free flow try to consume myself in this
I'm not faithless
Just paranoid of getting lost or that I might lose
Ignorance is bliss cherish it
Pretty neighborhoods you learn too much to hold
Believe it not
And fight the tears
With pretty smiles and lies about the times

A year goes by
And I can't talk about it
The times weren't right
And I couldn't talk about it

Choris Romance says goodnight
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last between
Choris Romance says goodnight
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last, between

And I'm praying that we will see
Something there in between
Then and there that exceeds all we can dream
So we can talk about it

Choris Romance says goodnight
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last between
Choris Romance says goodnight
Close your eyes and I'll close mine
Remember you, remember me
Hurt the first, the last healing

And I'm praying that we will see
Something there in between
Then and there that exceeds all we can dream

And all these twisted thoughts I see
Jesus there in between
And all these twisted thoughts I see
Jesus there in between


Song credits go to Flyleaf.

Things I've Learned

There are a few things I've learned this past weekend about myself and just life in general.

I'm getting closer to understanding the way my mind works the more I journal and discuss with family. There's a part of my brain that doesn't retain emotional connections with people so every time I see them or hang out with them, it's like I'm starting from scratch just meeting them for the first time. No matter how many times I've actually seen them. Makes making friendships a little difficult. And looking back, I pretty much know exactly when it started: the transition from 8th to 9th grade. Interesting, interesting...

I've also learned I may freak myself out too much over social activities such as going to wedding receptions or having bonfires for Halloween. I second guess and question myself in motives and worry that I won't be able to take the social interaction properly. And so far I seem to be surprised when things actually turn out well. But in a way I like to think the worst will happen, then I'll get a good surprise when it doesn't.

I'm realizing that marriage is kind of as simple as "hold my fork." It's a personal symbolism that I don't need to delve into. And I'm beginning to think I could handle marriage if my marriage is as simple as living a bonfire life. More symbolism. I know what I mean.

People don't actually change that much. They grow up and mature, but their core personalities and quirks will always be there. And even if you haven't seen each other for years, if you let your guard down, if you don't think, if you live in the moment, you capture the essence of the past. And that essence is all you need.

And people aren't as put together as you think they are. And no matter how well you think you know a friend, they will surprise you. For you don't know their minds and souls and just because their personalities can be more outgoing, it doesn't mean their living life more amazingly and more excitingly than you are. And there are many different definitions of success. And I'm not nearly as put together as I thought I was.

This was a successful venture then. I'm genuinely surprised but happy about it. Who knew Halloween could do that?

Round Here

Step out the front door like a ghost
Into a fog where no one notices
The contrast of white on white.

And in between the moon and you,
Angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right.

And I walk in the air between the rain
And through myself and back again
Where? I don't know.

Maria says she's dying.
Through the door I hear her crying.
Why? I don't know.

Round here we always stand up straight.
Round here something radiates.

Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand.
She said she'd like to meet a boy who looks like Elvis.
And she walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land
Just like she's walking on a wire in the circus.

She parks her car outside of my house
And takes her clothes off.
Says she's close to understanding Jesus
And she knows she's more than just a little misunderstood
She has trouble acting normal when she's nervous.

Round here we're carving out our names.
Round here we all look the same.
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs.
Round here she's slipping through my hands.

Oh sleeping children better run like the wind
Out of the lightning dream.
Mama's little baby better get herself in
Out of the lightning.

She says "It's only in my head."
She says "Shh I know it's only in my head."
But the girl on othe car in the parking lot
Says "Man you should try to take a shot"
Can't you see my walls are crumbling?"
Then she looks up at the building
Says she's thinking of jumping.
She says she's tired of life.
She must be tired of something.

Round here she's always on my mind.
Round here, hey man, we've got lots of time.
Round here we're never sent to bed early
And nobody makes us wait.
Round here we stay up very, very, very, very late.

I can't see nothing,
Nothing round here.
Oh will you catch me if I'm falling?
Will you catch me if I'm falling?
Will you catch me cause I'm falling down on you?

I said I'm under the gun around here.
I'm innocent, I'm under the gun
Around here.
I can't see nothing,
Nothing round here.


All credits go to Counting Crows for their wonderful song and wonderful lyrics. Hadn't listened to this song in months and rediscovered it on my ipod and found it just kind of worked. There was a reason I always liked this song.

Emo Cabin Fever

This is what a friend of mine calls my state of life. She's right.

Had a doctor appointment yesterday with x-rays. The nurse said my x-rays looked perfect and that I'm healing great and that I should be able to start walking in the boot. I was so excited; couldn't wait. Suddenly I could go to "Valleyscare" and have a decent Halloween. It was like my twitter October wish trend had come true. She was convinced I'd be ready. So of course, in comes the doctor, pulls up the x-rays, shows the main concern point and that it's healing perfectly in line. We're all happy and ready to go and then... "You're leg looks perfect. In 3 weeks you can start putting weight on it." Sigh.

Maybe it's my fault I got ahead of myself. Maybe it's the nurse's fault for saying things looked like I could start walking. Whatever it was, it killed me. All my excitement, my plans, my new daily routines, my mobility...Died. It took all my strength to not start crying right there. Instead my ankle needs range of motion, like I failed at trying to work it. Now time for physical therapy (which I had assumed anyway), but *no weight on it at all*. Thanks to my break, I can't walk when a person with a normal break would have been able to. All I could think about was how punished I felt. Punished that it was *my* break that was the problem. It was *my* bone, *my* ankle and range of motion, and because of that my life gets to be shattered again. I didn't drop the tree on myself, but I feel like everything after that was my fault. Like, if I had worked harder to get better range of motion on the ankle before the appointment, would he have said it was ok to walk then? My parents said that wasn't the case, the bone is good but not completely healed, but it still felt like a blow to me mentally.

I remember repeating "I'm not a positive enough person for this" to them. And it's true. I'm not positive enough when I feel attacked. There's those silver linings and 3 weeks is shorter than 4-6, but my brain is so inclined to live in the negative and pessimistic state. I just really had high hopes for Halloween.

So not only did I (and will continue to have) cabin fever, but now I have the *emo* label on top of it. I'm getting way too in tune with how my mind and body work and I realize how horrible it is. I'm disappointed at my negative, but I'm paralyzed to fix it. I don't have the coping strategies. And it seems like everyone around me are so pooping rainbows happy and it just reminds me that I'm wrong. That I don't and can't poop rainbows. And that those people threaten me because they're so much better than me. And I realized today that I'm just not a right person. Like I don't belong in this world because I see things so differently.

And my dad wants me to go to a shrink thanks to my last little outburst. It's an emotional time for me, anything can set me off. He just made it worse by putting me in an environment he knows I don't like. I'm just so tired of being so on edge and that I can burst any moment on anyone. And that my perception of things and conversations are apparently wrong and misled.

And you know, I wrote a huge letter to God the other night. I apologized profusely of how bad a person I am and that I'm not working in His favor even though I'm never out insulting Him or anything. But everyone else is out there sharing and learning and whatnot and I'm not doing anything. I still can't bring myself to go in church. And that has to be bad, right? And I know God made me the way He wants, but I've corrupted His will. I've ruined what He made. And I'm terribly sorry.

I just need to get over this emo cabin fever thing. It is no fun. Maybe in 3 weeks I'll feel better. Rather, I'm sure I'll feel tons better. I'll finally get happy. And that'll be nice. I just want a normal life again.

It's Coming Back

I'm reverting. Mentally, emotionally, I'm going back to where I was before this all happened. I hated it. I hated my feelings. I hated my surroundings. I hated myself and my life. And I was ready to take it out on anyone I could get my hands on. And if they were anonymous people I don't know and give a damn about, all the better.

I really hated that helpless state of anger. How I desired to just cry it all out but couldn't. There was nothing to cry at. Because nothing around me is sad. Lonely, maybe a little. Desolate somewhat. Not sad. It killed me to wake up like that when I was normal and on my own. Killed me that I hated myself so much because of how much hate I feel at the world. I don't know why I'm so mad at the world. I just don't like...People.

They are so terrible. Every human instinct is terrible. As humans we only look out for ourselves and seek the best angles to be selfish assholes. Politics, celebrities, athletes, barflies, it doesn't matter. I see what people do to skew and bias in there favor and it makes me mad. Even churches aren't immune and often times they can be worse.

And that makes me more frustrated. And furious. I try my hardest to look like the good kind of Christian person someone would want to meet. One that isn't pushy, is accepting, loves Jesus Christ and her God and walks by that faith. One that would be happy if someone she knew came to Christ and would celebrate, but one that would never look down on someone if they choose a different path. But my version of being that is to be as quiet and in the shadows as I possibly could. If I never speak, I can't be looked at as bad. Because so often as it seems, everyone who speaks gives themselves some bad quality and I'm too hypersensitive to that and too hypersensitive to feeling like a hypocrite so I stay shut up tight so I can't try to turn the tables around when I'm at fault and beg people to have pity on me. I would never do that. I deserve the same treatment as everyone else. And I'm such a horrible person that I need to be extra careful to not do anything that I would damn myself for.

But what am I saying? I'm the first person to say I deserve every bad thing that ever happened to me. My anger, my hate, makes me prime suspect to be condemned. I can't stand myself because that runs rampant and I have my outburst moments where I'm just so angry at *everyone* I see. Because I can see the faults they have and the things that make them unlikable if only because it is natural human behavior. I just don't like human behavior. I don't like people knocking others down to get ahead, twisting truths to make them look more favorable, pretending to do good only to get selfish recognition, choosing specific biases that make an entire subcategory of people victimized and the other side criminal. And the abusers! The murderers! It overtakes me, consumes me. I want these bad human behaviors and the humans who promote them to go away. But to do that, I would become one. And therefore I have to hate myself too.

It's foolish and I'm foolish. I wonder how much of this just has to do with whatever disorder I possess that I know nothing about past the fact that it's in my brain. It's wrong you know. I'm wrong. Disorder implies wrong. It's so nice there are positive people that clearly have nothing wrong with them. I wouldn't even know how to begin to pretend to be one of them. Not when such strong feelings consume you that it's practically paralyzing. You just want everything right in the world. And you believe if you took certain elements out, which often include people and their behaviors, it would be right. And then people look like they want to turn you in to the cops and lock you up. Maybe I should be. Maybe I should stay in this house, alone, to myself, try to disappear. And how can I even have the nerve to call myself a Christian? Hah, I think I'm the one He should never have died on the cross for. I don't deserve that mercy.

Reality Check

I need to stop and take a minute and collect what I wanted to do with this blog. Thoughts are everywhere and they're not all conducive to what I wanted to convey on this blog. I wanted this blog to be my chronicling of trying to figure out my disorder through therapy and challenges and treatment. The outcomes, feelings, and stories were going to come naturally from that and knowing me, there probably would be some amusing stories out of trying to be "social." However, the problem has become since my freak accident I have not been to therapy and I have not started treatment so I have nothing to talk about in that respect. I still have plenty to talk about; plenty is always on my mind, but I don't want to detract from what this place was supposed to be about. I need to step back, collect myself, my thoughts, my ambitions, and then get going on this again. I'll get through this reality check.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Or does it just make the heart forget?

I've been away from the computer, away from interaction, and back in the hospital and I haven't had a lot of time to think about people and things that make me feel (for a lack of a better word) complicated. I really don't have time at this point in my life for extra emotional baggage; there's enough of that floating around just trying to adapt to my situation.

I only know that when I'm back on the computer, online in my "old" environment, I feel somewhat replaced and like soon I won't matter much to some people because they have my replacement around them that is better than me. Better than me because I've walled myself up and put up a hostile front from this lingering personality disorder problem. Heck, I'd rather hang out with my replacement than me. And now I feel like there's not much I can talk about anymore and any of the little quirks that made me feel so close to the others aren't there anymore. They get to do that with all these new people and I'm left behind.

Let's keep this absence thing going.

You Never Know Who Cares About You...

Until a tree falls on you. Or you're dead. But the latter one is awfully hard to prove.

Yea, so a tree really did fall on me. Sounds very AFV funny til you realize I was hit by the trunk that was easily the size of a 45 inch plasma tv. And that doesn't include the length.

...From the distance. See that little triangle gap down there? That's where I was.

And this is what landed on me. Pleasant, isn't it?







So long story short, I'm on bedrest with a broken tibia and fibula in my left leg and some epic bruising and scraping on my back. First time I ever broke something, first time I was ever in a hospital.

And somehow news spread fast. And it really turns out you never know who gives a damn about you til they hear you're in a hospital because you could've been killed by some stupid tree. And I was surprised when some certain people that I was considerably close with (like talked to every nite) didn't say a thing. And when we finally did talk, they were more engrossed about how awesome their life was going. Like I said, I'm happy these people are happy, but a "yea that sucks" comment isn't really the same as an actual sympathetic comment.

It's interesting I guess. And some of the people I haven't talked to for a long time have been incredibly supportive. And the ones I feel closer to are silent. Well, we never really know who cares do we? But this was a great way to see people's true colors.

Though the strangest thing is, since this tree landed on me I haven't felt the same way mentally and emotionally as I did before it. I don't feel as anxious and depressed for some reason. And in some ways, I can't help but to think this was meant to happen. God was giving me a nudge to get over myself and gain some real perspective on life. Guess I have. Cause He could've killed me easy. And I'm still here.

Sometimes

Sometimes I can't escape from inside myself. Sometimes I walk through life disconnected. Sometimes I'm talking to people but my mind is hollow. Sometimes I get really agitated and sometimes I get really angry and I do bad things. Sometimes I just hate the fact I'm in life and life is around me. Sometimes I just hate life. Sometimes I don't eat breakfast and I'm starving for lunch but I can barely touch it and I waste food. Sometimes I don't know how I became this way. Sometimes I'm just screaming. Sometimes I wonder if this is all intentional. Sometimes I wonder how much of my brain is wrong. Sometimes I wonder if I would know what was wrong in my brain. Sometimes I wonder how long this will last. Sometimes I fear it will never end.

Confession

I have something I really want to tell someone, but I don't think I should. This someone is happy and doesn't deserve me raining on that and making things miserable. I don't want people to feel like me, and I definitely don't want people to think about me. If I said something, they'd probably be thinking about me then. But if I told them, a lot of things would probably make more sense. But then am I just stepping out of place?

I just want to explain myself, why I'm like this. They don't know. They don't know my past and my insides and my history and my mind. They don't know what depression is and that I'm now just fessing up to the fact that I have it badly. They don't know that everyday my first thought when I wake up is "I wish I was dead." And then they don't know that I can't even get that relief because I feel since I'm so screwed up on the inside I'm not right with God. And I don't know how to be right with God. Because I'm so skewed in a direction taken over by something I can't control, I can't think like the rest of people, be positive. It's not an act, my "hate." It's the only thing I know.

They don't know that I really don't hate the Triple Threat Girl. My biggest role model is one (Kristin Chenoweth). I secretly desire to be just like her. But unless I've felt accepted early on by one, I'm only hostile in thought. I desire to have a big smile on my face and 500 friends on facebook and people who comment on ridiculous pictures of me if only to say "you're such a dork." But I've learned to protect myself. And I've done it by freezing my heart, my soul. I am only hostile. And they don't know that I don't want to be.

They don't know that I can only focus on physical outer looks because my inner world is just a mess of dark and torment and anger and hate and despair and pain and I can't count on my inner "looks" to make it successfully through this life or in the dating world. They don't know I would hurt myself everyday in high school because I felt so inferior and worthless. They don't know I constantly debate taking up an offer to sleep with someone if only to have a false sense of confidence and love. My body to me is only as worth what it is: a body. A shell of skin and bone and that's all. I'm worthless every way else. Because no one wants what's inside here. I sure as hell wouldn't so I can't imagine any other normal person out there would. So why can't I follow hollow fantasies? People say it's meaningless and doesn't fill the hole, but hey, I'm meaningless and my holes can never be filled anyway.

No, I just don't think I should tell them. If someone can live in blissful happiness in this world, I'm not going to stop them. I'd love to, just to feel like I have some company way down here. But I wouldn't. It's nice that someone out there can really be happy inside and out. I just wish that was me too.

Brave

I was brave today. I pat myself on the back for that one. And I have to admit, I'm quite impressed. I made a cold call to a production company today asking about a job opening I was told of by my screenwriting teacher. Turns out they were quite surprised I knew of this job but welcoming nonetheless and now I need to get a resume and cover letter in order to get it over there as soon as possible. This is my freaking dream job, and I HAVE to do this. Of course now I've gotten thrown off with trying to create a cover letter and resume and worrying that I don't actually have any good things to offer. Even though I've been in a lot of training for many different things. And the other thing is I really am not completely sure what this position actually is... I was just told something in the office for development. That makes it hard to make a cover letter.

I guess maybe the best way I tackle this disorder is when I'm so determined it's at desperation level. Cuz I've been struggling and dying for a job in my actual area of interest and it's just made life extra miserable. So getting this little glimmer of chance threw me over the edge to jump for a second. Just a second though. This doesn't change anything else. Too often I feel too comfortable the way I am even if it is the wrong way. And I feel comfortable not doing certain things because the anxiety overcomes me and I just have to let it go and pretend it never happened, that the notion never existed. But there are these extremely rare moments. And it seems they pay off.

I'd definitely like to say God had a role in this. I really would. It's funny cuz I've been questioning my very existence with Him and then I get my faith questioned by people close to me who I thought understood me. So I try to avoid saying anything is resulted only because of God because I worry it'll make me sound like a hypocrite or else ignorant or something. But I know God works in our lives and I'll just tell them to stick it if they question me or try to call me out on something that only I know the truth of.

So my night ends on a positive note. Providing I figure out what to put in this cover letter and resume business.

A Family Affair

I'm so glad Pandora is playing all my thumbed up songs in the "Moody" playlist I have saved.  This means I'll definitely know the song is good.

I'm not sure what to think of this past weekend. And I'm not sure why I agree to go to social outings with family where I know no one there. I frustrate myself because I have been so numb these past few days that I don't even feel the anxiety of going somewhere unknown around unknown people until I step out of the car and it hits me like a tidal wave.  I try to hide beside whoever I can that I know, but my parents are revved and off before I can block myself from the rest of the world.

This thing is stupid really. It's so stupid, it makes me mad that I powerlessly submit myself to it every damn day of my life. It's like I'm walking around with blinders and I can't look up to face people. If I look at them, that means they look at me. And I don't want them looking at me. What if they didn't want me to look at them? What if they think I'm trying to glare at them or challenge them? If I don't look, then they don't need to look back and I don't need to wonder why they looked at me and what's wrong with me.

But then the itty bitty rational part of myself barely whispers telling me that then I'll just look like a snobby bitch if I don't make eye contact. And I know enough to smile. Or at least try to smile. But I don't know sometimes if my face is smiling. It's like I don't feel those muscles move, so I'm not honestly sure my face works. And when someone I do know but not particularly well starts talking to me, I try really hard to react and show emotion... But I still can't feel it. And the rest of the time I'm just a frickin mute. And when someone talks to me and asks something about myself, I try to hardly say anything so I don't look like I'm full of myself talking only about how awesome my screenwriting class is or how much I loved going to New York and how I wish I lived there or how Kristin Chenoweth is my broadway diva goddess that I adore or whatever. Internally, I just feel so shelled up and constricted and it's uncomfortable.

Well, it's another situation I get through, like all the rest. It's another situation I would have liked to never have been in, but I got through it nonetheless. I just wonder why I can't walk into a place like that like a *normal* person and even though I don't know anyone, I can function both internally and out and actually make conversations for myself and not feel like if I take a step toward the table that has food, I'm doing something wrong. This is so foolish it's pathetic. I hate myself so much because of it.

There's this bible verse: "Love your neighbor as much as yourself."(James 2:7)  Hah, well, I guess we know why I have no relationships outside of a small familiarity circle. How can I get along with someone if I'm treating them the way I treat myself? What a waste.

I'm just a waste of human.

The Triple Threat

My biggest threat: The Triple Threat Girl. Who is this Triple Threat Girl? I'll tell you.

The Triple Threat Girl has a strong Christian faith and background, is naturally positive and outgoing, and a looker.

This is the person I have battled with my entire life just to be on the same playing field with so I could have some hope of meeting people to have a social network. I can't even get on that playing field. She wins it all every time. She has the greatest package anyone could ever ask for; how can someone like me compete?

I know I'm a nice person, a very respectful person. I never start altercations and I'm a big believer in letting people do and be whatever they want. I love witty conversations and banter and I'm such a girl (meaning I love shopping and shoes and make up and will gladly be around any other girl that loves them too). And I love running with the boys. I have been a grip on a movie set with all male counterparts and I groove on it. I like equipment and lifting things and throwing things and towing things and packing things and running around in ripped jeans and a t-shirt with sandbags in my arms. I'm a video game junkie. And I'm also a musical theatre junkie. I can play the piano and I wish we could live our daily lives like a musical and always have elaborate singing and dancing numbers when we have conversations.

No one knows this.

Because of how bad I am in social situations, the way my mind is chemically engineered to work, I do practically everything except hide in a corner. And in a setting such as a church group, I'm overshadowed by the girls who belly laugh at every little thing and dance in the aisles and drag people with them and keep the attention on them. It's a paralysis for me; I can't think fast enough to even start a small talk conversation and my heart is always racing to the point where I sometimes feel like I can't breathe. I've made progress on my own just trying to make eye contact with people I'm around. EYE CONTACT.  How pathetic is that?

But I guess I have to be happy for the Triple Threat Girl. She's got it down and she's got it good. I suppose because of that she deserves the spoils. To the victor goes the spoils after all.