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.