urban dictionary

So, I read on MLIA today that someone put their name into Urban Dictionary. So I was like...hmmn. I should try that. And I got this, and laughed SO HARD - both for the accuracies, and the slight inaccuracies...but mostly the accuracies.


Danielle:

Intense, fiery female possessing the ability to affect person, place, and immediate surroundings. Frequently manifesting such conflicting extremes that the outcome is usually one of lucidity or confusion. .....Other characteristics of Danielle are : abundance of curly locks of hair, discernable voice capable of pitches that can crack ice, Buckcherry released a song about 'Danielle' entitle CRAZY BITCH, Danielle is always late. She can be your most fearless, strong and loyal friend, or your most feared, relentless mortal enemy.



Haha! Isn't that the greatest?

I looked up 'Della' too, just because most of my home-friends call me that..I only get called Danielle at my parent's house & Chad's house. I don't even think Cassie's parents know what my name is, which makes me happy in a weird sort of way.

Della was really conflicted, though. The first two were pretty :

A type of person who is always there when you need them, a shoulder to cry on;

The most beautiful girl in the world. She will make you enjoy yourself, no matter what!


I'd love to say that's who I am, but I'm just not that amazing. The rest were pretty awful - redneck whore, bitchy secretary, etcetera, etcetera. Glad to say that doesn't fit me, either. I get such a kick out of it - I always talk about how my name doesn't fit me, how names like steevo and della and dee feel more like me than danielle ever has - and yet, when you look at the Urban Dictionary definition, Danielle fits me best.

dinosaurs

Some days I will pretend I'm not upset at all, and some days I will tell you everything, every tiny thought that crosses my brain. Some days I'll be hard and cold, and some days the memeory of a stuffed dinosaur I lost when I was four will make me bawl my eyes out. And some nights, some nights are going to be the kind where I have to surround myself with blankets and pillows just to feel like no one's going to strangle me in my sleep....others will be the kind where I can't sleep, and want to go adventuring at two in the morning. There will be flashbacks and crying jags and entire days that I spend in sweatpants, just wanting it all to be over so I can wake up and try again. I need your hugs, I need you to not make me feel like a crazy person...because sometimes, I'm not so sure, myself.

chipmunk

Right now, I have chipmunk cheeks. I look more than a little ridiculous....but, I ate solid food - a tiny, tiny amount of pasta, and like 7 pizza rolls! I doubt I'll be able to do it tommorrow -eggs, soup and smoothies. The pizza rolls were nice, but it's so freaking hard to eat them, it's almost not worth it.

I look so manly..I kind of hate it. It's hard to feel good when you don't look good, you know? And poor lyssa just got dumped - I really, really want to go help her, but she won't let me do anything, which makes it so much more frustrating. Tell me your problems, sure - but let me help, too. Let me advise, let me comfort, let me be a part of the healing process.

Either way, this has been a good weekend. I got to talk to Lita for a while, which is almost as good as spending time with her, and tommorrow (hopefully) I'll get to chill with Cass. I might pop by Lyssa's, too, just to lend an ear/hug.

sweet, sweet relief.

So....I got an extension on the test , and I took it, and I got a 92, which is an LCCC 'A'. Not sure I'll do well in the whole class, but I feel a lot better.

I was really freaked out this morning. I got up 15 minutes early, so I could get my breakfast and stuff together....the second I woke up I was puking. I was so stressed, and my body shook all morning. I went to school and took my interviewing final, which was pretty easy, and then my mom called to tell me I got the extension. Good, right? Yeah, I thought so too. The rest of the morning went pretty well - got $202 back for my books, which isn't nearly what I spent on them, but it's something, and handed in my variance request. I took one of my quizzes today, so now I just have 4 left, and the final, which will altogether only take me a few hours....when I'm done with everything, I'm taking a nice, long hot bath.

I don't have my surgery tommorrow until 2 pm....I have to get up at 7:30 to eat, but I'm going back to bed. After that, it's like 2 or 3 days of no real food, just jello, pudding, and wanting to kill myself. Today was supposed to be my 'final supper' sort of deal, but my nerves are still shot. I could hardly choke down two eggrolls, and even then I didn't finish most of the second one. I hope I feel better after my econ final. Even if I do okay in this class....my stress level is so high, my back is in knots, and my stomach is this grumbly angry thing.

Soon, though. I'm going to work, then Econ, and then, at last, I'll be done with everything, and I can work on Carly's Christmas present, and get together my ideas for everyone else, and....

...and then I can have my face ripped open tommorrow, and be drugged out for a few days. My mom said I probably won't even remember the ride home....is it bad, that I'm kind of looking forward to that?

failure

I missed the final for my online test....and now i'm pretty sure I'm going to fail it.

It was totally my fault, I misread the date and that is TOTALLY my fault. I'm so ashamed...I'll probably have to take the course over, it's going to mess up my GPA. I'm embarassed, I'm frustrated, I keep face-palming and I want to cry so much.

I'm smart. It's one of my only redeeming qualities. I'm not particularly pleasant, I'm not pretty, I'm not charming....but I'm smart. I'm not even all that smart, to be honest...and I'm kind of lazy...but it's something, you know? Maybe it's my mother's rejection, maybe it's the fact that I'm adopted and something needs to make me worth keeping...I always feel like I have to prove to people that I deserve the space i'm taking up on the Earth, though, that I'm worth it. I don't feel so worth it right now - epic fail, to the nth degree. I wasn't supposed to do bad. I've been taking 18 credits every semester since my first semester, and I'm been fine. My counselor even gives me rave reviews. And I was brag worthy and I was doing good, and now I have fallen flat on my face and wasted my parents' money and wasted my time. I'm probably going to have to take this class over, I'm going to have a 3. God-knows-what.....I know it's not going to be a big deal in a little while, hopefully, but I still want to cry so much. It's like the ultimate sign of weakness....they stressed and they piled on the pressure and I didn't stay solid - I cracked.

pianissimo

Today, I was listening to Regina Spektor - I love The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, I do, but I needed something happier - and I was fantasizing. I'm silly...I like to think about performing, even though

a) I can't sing to save my life

and

b) I haven't played an instrument in YEARS

If I ever did perform, it would be a little thing, in a Barnes and Noble the way Aaron does. But, that'll never happen....

Anywho, I was listening, and singing along...and I just had thins longing to play again. I stopped playing guitar in 10th grade...I stopped piano in 8th. I haven't played the piano in like, six years...but there's one in my house, and it's not going anywhere, and I still have the books. Could I learn?

Do I have the time? I don't know. But I miss the feeling of the keys beneath my fingers, I miss the way my hands glided over them, and the feeling of my hand contorting, struggling so hard to span an octave, coerce a beautiful sound. I could hardly read music then, and I certainly can't now, but I still want to try. Writing is a wonderful outlet, but there are so many things words can't say. Music...music is more primal, something close to the heart. Words are lovely, but we as humans....we need to use our hands, too, to feel completely connected with our expressions, to create with our bodies, and not just our minds.

I sound silly, I know. The thought of pounding those keys though, of my body rocking back and forth again, of being completely lost in the sound....I look forward to that immensly.

Newsflash : I AM EVIL

Another conversation with my mom, about how I am the devil, and I don't want to change, and how I'm the kid that she completely screwed up on. And I can agree with her on some aspects - she let me get away with too much as a kid, for a long time I thought that I should get my way, all the time, and that what I wanted was the best idea. But I have changed since then, I have grown.

But if the growth isn't her way, then it's not really growth, now, is it? I read novels. I wrote a novel. And you know what? THAT DOES NOT MAKE ME A BAD PERSON. According to my mother, my brother, my father, though, it does. Why? Because they don't read! I love my religion, I really, truly do, aIn nd I love God, but I get so sick of the people who are supposed to represent him running around and pointing fingers, crying 'evil' at everything they don't understand. Why is a novel bad? I just don't get it. Jesus used FICTIONAL parables to demonstrate his point. JESUS used FICTION. I'm sorry, saying that 'if it didn't actually happen, then it's a lie and therefore a sin' is bullcrock. Fiction is a powerful tool that can be used to demonstrate a point, to say something that needs to be said, and, quite frankly it's one of the only mediums that I can understand. The argument here is so stupid - fiction is bad, even though Jesus used it, because novels are 'trash'. Okay, so what novels? Are we talking about 'Fountains of Desire' here? I can agree, that's trash. But Just Listen? Yes, that's terrible, putting rape into an empowering story based off of true-life experiences of girls that Sarah Dessen interviewed, how DARE you create a story that shows people how to overcome adversary! Or, how about In the Region of Ice, where Joyce Carol Oates demonstrates that Christianity without love and compassion is just this cold and ugly thing? Is that trash?

Maybe my brother's video games are trash. Or maybe Grey's Anatomy, which my mom watches nightly, is trash. Maybe the sports that my dad is addicted to are a steamy pile of horse defecation. Novels are like any other medium - some are good, some are bad. Some are so awful, they have no excuse to exist. The focus here is on the medium, not the message, and it infuriates me - isn't our ABC half-filled with novels? Historical novels, religious novels, but still NOVELS. Are we going to burn books because of a half-thought notion? I don't see the sense here, and it makes me so mad that because I disagree with something I don't even think my family members fully understand, I am unwilling to change, and therefore I am evil. I thought we had come so far, but the progress only shows when I'm sitting with my mouth sewn shut, agreeing with everything they say. I kept flashing back, today, to five years ago when I told my mother there was nothing wrong with Aerosmith, that it made me happy, and she told me that I was going to go to hell with my evil music. I keep thinking things have changed, but htey haven't - I'm still 15, barred and angry, and there's still no one listening.

i posted it last night on ap and practically died of shame.

I am the dirty house
where he almost
killed you. I am
the tears you cried

while they arrested him.

The stars were so bright
overhead
and I kept staring
like they could
beam me away,
but the stars didn't
rescue me
and my dreams didn't save me
like they do
in the movies.

I am the graveyard
solemn and still,
that watched our lives
play out with such
flippancy,
the arguments and
my night-time songs,
a child's light heart
darkened by your
mistakes.

Do you remember
the beer bottles on
the window sill?
The broken glass that
cut my feet, the nights he
locked me in
my room? Were you
looking away,
or did you just
not
care?

I am the radio
that played with such
eerie cheer
through the police sirens
and shouting matches,
through my own screams,
still playing those
happy songs
where only sobs belong.

On sunday, next sunday, school will be over and my family will be gone all day and I will be alone. I made a plan and told Cass about it - I am going to write everything down, start to finish. I am going to write about the house and gary and marilyn and all of it - every damned thing that happened to me, everything that's been bubbling up and killing me. I am going to write it out, as long as it takes, I am going to take it outside, into the firebarrel, and I am going to burn it all.

But now, I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't. There's a part of me that wants to show someone....to say 'here. this is what happened to me, all of it. this is the ugliness that's in me, this is what i wake up feeling every morning.' I want someone to know...I couldn't even tell you why. I feel like all my life I've been talking in circles, trying to get this out of me...but I never can. I can never say it all, can never squeeze the last of it out. I talk in circles and squares, I try so hard to say it, but it's like the words can't leave my lips. I am so afraid of what people will think...in a way, I want to hand the paper over, and watch myself change right before someone's eyes. I want someone to look inside me, really look, and see how dark and ugly my head is, all the things that just don't go away, the flashbacks and the memories, the little girl who is still curled up in the corner, waiting for her mother to say, finally, that she's worth trying for. I want so badly to be understood...but I don't think I will be, and so it's easier to just keep it all in my head, and not burden anyone with it. As much as I want to show someone, I know already that I'll wind up burning that paper - I'm already feeling super-rejected, putting myself up for disappointment is only going to make things worse.

worst thing

The worst thing about me isn't that I lie, exactly. It's that I hide things....I withold.

I don't think I always was this way...at least, I remember someone once saying that they loved me because I was blunt. Where did that bluntness go? I don't know. So much of me is pushed back, held in. I can't remember the last time I told someone what I thought, point blank. I give them what I think they can take.

Like my mom. I don't tell her half of what I do, or even the things she has a right to know. I clip things short and leave things out, I shorten, condense, I take out the things she can't handle, or the things I think she won't like. I censor myself so that I am what she needs me to be.

Or Lisa. I'm typically so careful with her, I only tell her what needs to be said, or I try to keep the conversation pleasant. I'm afraid that if I tell her what I really think of what she does, of her boyfriend and her lifestyle, I'll just push her away. I don't want to be seen as judgemental, you know? I don't agree with what she's doing, but I'm not sure what's my place anymore. I want us to be so much closer than we are, I don't know how to get there if I'm lying, but I don't think she'll want me if I tell her how I really feel.

I've begun to lie to other people, too. Sometimes I feel like all I do is lie, cut something out here or something else out there. And now I'm realizing that I've held all of my past in, setting out a piece or two here or there for someone to see, but keeping it all in, hiding it away. Because I don't know who I can tell who could take it, I don't know who would be hurt or upset...I don't want people to look at me like that, as something broken and ugly , I don't want to drop my burdens on their head. As a result, all of this is in me, and now it's all been brought to the surface and it won't stop coming, I can't make it go away.

All I can think about are the times I wanted to say something, but didn't. The times I wanted to tell you how I felt, but was afraid that it would push you away. I wonder if that's why we are the way we are, or if nothing could have fixed it. I wonder if all of this was coming either way, or if I could have done something.

I can't break your fall forever

Not What You Wanted - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club


You know you've got a lot to learn
You feel it but your heart won't burn
The fear is running every nerve
You're turning to the one's you've hurt
Nothing ever satisfies
You're screaming but your tongue's still tied
Starving but your love won't feed
Nothing ever sets you free

You know you've got a long way down
You'll feel it when you hit the ground

It's not what you wanted
It's not what you came here for
This place just leaves you cold
Where nothing matters

Pinned inside the walls of sound
Reaching but your hands are bound
Crying but your love's so sweet
You're singing but your heart still weeps

And no one ever seems to care
feels like she walks on air

It's not what you wanted
It's not what you came here for
This place just leaves you cold
Where nothing matters

I can't wait for time to save us
And I can't break your fall forever

'Cause you always take
You always take too much
You always take
You always take too much

It's not what you wanted
It's not what you came here for
This place just leaves you cold
Where nothing matters

It's not what you wanted
It's not what you came here for
This place just leaves you cold
Where nothing matters.

bitter

I don't know how it happened ...or maybe I do. since this summer, I've become such a bitter person....bitter, and kind of angry, too.

For so, so long, I refused to play the pity card. Refused, because really, it's not all that bad, right? Maybe my mom didn't want me - someone did. And maybe I had a rough past, terrible childhood memories ....all of that was behind me, right? Life could only get better, and to put all that away and have a positive attitude was the best thing to do.

Since my mom got sick, and she disappeared, though, I just haven't been able to do that. Most days, yeah, I'm fine. But lately, there's this bubbling inside of me, a feeling I can't even put words to...it makes me so sad, and so angry, and so pissed at every person who has two parents who love them. I know all the right answers - it shouldn't matter, because I have a family woh loves me, other people have it worse, things turned out okay, didn't they? Blah, blah, blah. That doesn't make it fair. How come everyone else gets a mother, and I get stuck with someone who couldn't even set her beer down long enough to hold me? I want a mother. I want someone who looks like me, someone who acts like me, I want to feel like I am a part of someone else. I want to be part of a family where I don't have to prove myself, where I don't have to hold up a legal document to show everyone that I belong to them.

Nobody looks like me, not even my mother. I am barely a part of my family - half of them don't even consider me family. I'm sick of having to be grateful for everything - don't I deserve to be loved, to have grown up in a family where people provided for me? I hate that I have to be thankful for the love, thankful for the acceptance. I hate that whenever I feel like this, whenever I wish my first family had worked out, I feel like a traitor, like I am backstabbing my family. I am frustrated, I am angry, I am bitter and sad and filled with this awful loneliness. I have never been a part of that bigger picture, a puzzle piece to make some sky, or grass. I don't even know what puzzle I go to.

tired

I'm done....I'm emotionally and physically exhausted. I feel like right now, I have nothing left of myself to give, like I'm empty, all hollow and echo-y inside. I slept for ten hours this morning, then took a two hour nap this afternoon...and I'm still tired. I spent all night writing a paper, I'll spend all tommorrow writing a paper...I really don't know when I'll next have time for me. Monday night I'm working on a project (which might wind up on youtube, go figure) and I won't be able to sleep well until we do the presentation on Wednesday, which is going to be so damn embarassing.

I'm sleepy. I just want to not, you know? I want school to be over...but it's not. Two more weeks, right? After tommorrow, all my major projects will be taken care of. After Wednesday, all I'll have to worry about is finals.

This is going to sound awful, but I'm going to say it anyway: I'm looking forward to having my wisdom teeth out. Weird, right? It's going to hurt, and I'm going to look awful and chipmunk-y, and only be able to eat soft liquid-y things, and I'll have gaping holes in my face. Then again, it's december 18th, right? A friday. I don't have school, I took off work...I'll get my teeth pulled out, get put on strong, STRONG drugs for a day or two, and have an excuse to just sort of veg out. No school, no work..nothing, just free time and sleep. So much sleep, so much writing..maybe even just video games, y'know? No one will expect me to do anything, though....I won't have anything that needs to be done, I can sleep all day without getting yelled at or feeling guilty, I'll be knocked out on painkillers for so much of it....I'm just looking forward to being allowed to feel like crap. I have this can-do attitude all the time, it's become something that people expect of me. I feel like I'm not allowed to be weak, not allowed to have those moments where I'm just pissed at the world, or annoyed, or angry. Everything is so quick with me, though - I'm mad, then I'm done. I don't understand why it's such a hard concept to grasp, why no one seems to understand, even now, that I won't stay angry, it's almost physically impossible for me...I just need to fume for a while, get it out of my system.

I should go to bed. I want to be up by 10 tommorrow, start my paper AT THE LATEST by noon. Paper and test....I'll be busy, tommorrow. It's okay, though, because I'll be free on the 18th...free, and probably high as a kite.

shaking

today sucked. It just....oh, it was awful. People still have the capability to make me feel inhuman, lower than anything that has ever existed...I am ugly because of my past, because I was abused, and I am even uglier for understanding my abuse, for not being appalled and disgusted by it. How long can you hold yourself away, and be disgusted by the things that are part of you, though? How long do I have to hate what made me who I am before I am allowed to accept it?

I am shaking and hurt and I keep having flashbacks, of being invisible, of being hurt, of being unwanted. I can't stop feeling so small and so ugly, sub-human..I used to feel this way all the time when I was little, and that just makes me feel uglier. They talked about abuse and neglect like a lifetime movie or the news, something foreign and outside of their understanding. It'd not outside of my understanding, it is my understanding...it's my life. I am that little girl in the lifetime movie, or on the news. It makes me feel slimey all over...it makes my skin itch.

defective

So, I've wondered since i can remember, how I got cerebral palsy. I've asked about a thousand teachers, but none ever actually answered. I tried the internet, but I couldn't find anything there, either.

A commercial just told me, though, that it typically happens during delivery. So, it's not my mom's fault, I guess. I don't know why that makes me feel so much better, to know that she didn't do it to me. Even if she had, it's not like she meant to, you know? Still, it makes me feel so much better, to think that it wasn't her fault, there was nothing she could do. Who knows, maybe she was even angry with the doctors, for whatever happened that caused it.

...okay, i doubt that. My mom doesn't remember my delivery, and I will never know anything that happened that day. When I was a little girl, I used to pretend that I knew, that it was snowing big fat flakes, the kind that will always make me think of Christmas, even when they fall in March. I used to pretend that it was snowing, and that the sky was that dark, deep blue, and the snow looked all blue and glowy, those big fat flakes were like drops of grey-blue sky falling down .

Silly. Back then, I pretended that it was snowing. Now, I'm pretending that she cares.

no quarter

My little sister is angry with me. Why? Because I moved the wreath she put in my office (without my permission, I might add) and it landed upside down. Seriously? She bitched me out, this little girl, because her stuff isn't where she wants it in my room. WTF?

More and more, I feel closed in, boxed up....claustrophobic. My office is too messy (and now it's full of toys and other people's Christmas presents) my clothes aren't hung straight, my bed isn't made well enough. I leave for work too late, I wake up too early, I'm too loud in the morning and too quiet at the dinner table. I work too much, I'm not getting enough hours, why am I awake so late? I need to get to bed, I need to stop writing. I feel like I'm fifteen all over again, with everything wrong and this awful, anxious feeling in my stomach. I'm lying about so much, condensing myself and hiding so many things, but still, still I am not acceptable. I can't wait to go to Michigan - my parents like me so much more when I'm just a nice concept, and they can't see all my imperfections.

on the count of three!

...I just reached 28,100 words. Out of 50,000.


I don't think anyone I've talked to understands how big this is for me. I know other people have done nanowrimo, and finished, and had their 100 pages or so turned into a book. Awesome. And I know it's no big thing, to write 100 pages, to have those 50,000 words...but it is for me. I've always done my little online fanfictions, or my crappy stories that could be novels, only I never, ever finish them. But this? I have 55 pages, right now. And I will finish, I'm so close, I know what I want to say, it's just going to take time to say it. This is really happening, I am going to have a book of my words, to hold in my hand and share with the world.

There are no words to describe how beautiful this is to me. I have so much to say, so much that has been building and overwhelming, so much that needs to get out of me. And I can show it, and I can share it...my soul will be on pages, for anyone and everyone to see. I love this feeling. I can't say it enough, cannot possibly express the joy I feel, in knowing that each day I get to pour a little bit more of myself onto the pages. All I want is for someone to get it, to really, truly understand...and maybe i'm expecting too much, I don't know. This is so important to me, this is so vital and uplifting, and I want someone, anyone to be happy for me, to understand that I have not felt this overjoyed, and proud and complete and just euphoric in years, years and years and years. I guess that's just how we humans are - feelings aren't worth feeling if there is no one to reciprocate, and share with. Or, maybe that's just me.

weird, right?

Lots and lots of nano-writing lately, which is great. Last week, though, Cass and I did our careers project together, and it got me thinking. Like, really, really thinking. And I think...I think I'm going into substance abuse social work.

Weird, right? I mean, the idea just kind of popped into my head, and nothing...nothing's really felt as right as this idea does. It makes sense, doesn't it? My mom's an alcoholic, so I'm going to go help people stop being alcoholics. And meth addicts, and speed freaks....I really love the idea of helping people break their chemical addictions, and then go on to lead healthy, happy lives, and be valuable members of society, and get back to the real world again. I knew I wanted to help people, I just wasn't sure how. But this is something I've always felt passionately about, and it's something I'd really like to pursue.

The weirdest part is how everyone's taking it. I thought my parents would be like 'no, no way in hell' y'know, because it can get dangerous, and stuff. The only thing my mom said was that she was pretty sure they like you to have been chemically addicted at some point or another...which, you know, I haven't. That doesn't mean I'm any less familiar with the psychology of addiction, though. My life, so far, has been trying to get my mom to see me in the shadow of her alcohol addiction. I have a lifetime of experience, don't I?

I don't know. My mind might change, the world might turn a different way....but right now, this is what I want to do, it is the direction I am taking...and it's something I'm pretty passionate about. Yay, me!

satisfied

So, Nano started. I thought I would be scraping by, you know? I though I would be trying so hard to slam out my 1,667 a day (500 words is about a page. You do the math) But I'm actually almost a day ahead. Kennedy's story is just coming to me, and I am adoring it. I stopped tonight, not completely because I want to, but because I want to get a little Lost Song done tonight, and talk to my boyfriend.

I am so happy! I feel all giggly and silly, which is so strange. By definition, this is not a very good week at all. The things that have happened....it's just been awful, and sad. But Chad keeps calling me about dinosaur toast, and I keep on writing, and it's so hard to be sad, when I am so well-loved, and writing two wonderful stories, and feeling so inspired to write them. This is my element, and if I could capture the way I have felt this week...that would be the loveliest thing. I feel as though I have never really known what it was to be satisfied at night until now.

Shut. Up.

of course, I want to be sick. Don't you know, I skip out on my vegetables and forget to take my vitamins on purpose? I love having a throat that hurts, and a chest that is aching, and a nose that is so, so sore from all the blowing and the dripping. I love people looking at me like I'm going to give them the swine flu when I cough, even though I cover my mouth and wash my hands constantly, to the point where they are now cracking with dryness.

I love this. I live for it.

My system keeps crashing on the weekends, like I pull through just until I have to, and then BOOM. I get home on Friday and I can't breathe, my head hurts, I'm feverish and my skin hurts, my very bones hurt. I am so stressed. I am so stressed, and I feel like something must be awfully wrong with me, because everyone else does this, they all go to school and have jobs and hobbies and succeed, they succeed and they don't die in the process, they don't drag themselves through the week to fall over, almost dead for the weekend. How much worse is it going to get when I go to university? When I'm a social worker? When I have kids, and a husband, and everybody wants me to make them happy?

I feel like such crap, and I hate that she's blaming me for it. I spent the whole day at Cassie's, blowing my nose in the bathroom and washing my hands obsessively, to make sure I didn't infect anyone there. I couldn't be home, though, I just couldn't do it. It's my fault that I'm sick, and I'm going to get the kids sick. Who wants to be sick? I just have a crappy immune system, I always have. My throat hurts, and I'm boogery. It sucks.

I GIVE UP

ARGGGGGGGGGGGG

I hate school so much. Here are the things that need to be done this week...

-200 question developmental psych take-home midterm, due friday

- mypoliscilab assignments, due sunday

- 3 page economics career project, due sunday

- polisci paper, 5 pages, due sunday

- polisci written assignment based on a video that WON'T STOP FREEZING UP, due sunday

- heather's stupid personal ad, due tommorrow

bio homework, due thursday. Will there be a quiz based on it? Probably.

And it wouldn't be so much , except I can't do anything all during Sabbath, and saturday night is lyss's party, and I WANT TO GO. I've been working on my costume for months, and I'm going, homework or not.

I wanted to get all my gov stuff done tonight, but the internet just isn't cooperating. I can't log in, or I can't log out in order to log back in, and the video freezes up, and I'm just TIRED, and I want to do my damn work so that I don't have to stress about it. I keep making weekend plans, and now I'm mad that I had Chad come up, because I could have done all of this LAST weekend and saved myself the stress, and then I feel bad because we really needed this past weekend, even if parts of it did totally suck. I don't know, I don't know...I just don't have time for everything, and I need to do good to keep my scholarship, and I still want to have my life. I want to be able to see people and write and DO things. I want to be a person now, to enjoy life NOW.

'gotta make a plan, gotta do what's right. Can't run around in circles if you want to build a life. But I don't wanna make a plan for a day far away, while I'm young and while I'm able, all I want to do is....'

My sister has a doctor's appointment, and we don't know why. But she's broke, so if she's going to the doctor's, it has to be mildly serious. Is it bad, that I'm sick of this? I am so tired of the sickness, of the people who might die, who could die, and the worry that lays so heavily on my heart.

I'm afraid to go to Michigan, now. I'm afraid to go to Chad's for Thanksgiving. What if she dies? What if I'm away, and my mom dies, and I can't get home in time to visit her one last time? What if she dies and I'm at school, in Michigan, and I can't get home for the funeral? I don't think I could live with myself. What if she dies, and I am still so angry at her, for forgetting me, for abandoning me, for not even trying a damn bit for me...what if there is bad blood between us, forever and ever?

I love my mom, and I love my sister. I hate what we are, though. My heartstrings are twisted and strained, and I'm sick of digging my heels in and holding on to people who don't want to hold on to me. I torture myself with my own love, and I don't know why. Why can't I just give up on people? Why can't I just let it go? Why can't I admit that there is nothing I can do for either of them, that I have absolutely no impact on their lives, that I am nothing to them?

But it's there, like a pulse, beating in my head. What if she dies? What if she dies?

What if she dies?

THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING!

I know, with the Green Day songs, I'm so obnoxious. Everyone but Cass has about had it with me and my obsession...but right now, I just get them...or they get me. I don't know. It reminds me of when Carrie and I were in seventh grade, and we would pick one thing, and OBSESS over it. All the time, I mean...like, for instance, beef jerky. I decided that I loved slim jims one week, and in seventh grade, I had a Sunny D and a slim jim for lunch every day for like, two or three months.

Or Johnny Depp. We decided we loved him right after PotC came out, and then we would watch all of his movies, a different one every weekend, at her house. I would sleep over, and we always did the same things - watch a Johnny movie, go upstairs and rock out (while burning incense) share deep, scary secrets, and fall asleep. In the morning, Carrie would make me food, and we would watch some silly Disney movie, looking for plotholes the whole time. It was so silly, but it made us so, so happy.

So...another letter came from Andrews today. I'M GOING TO ANDREWS! And, you know what? When I get there, after 2 years of schooling... I AM GOING TO BE A SOCIAL WORKER! Like, I am in the social work program...when I get there next fall, I will start my training. This is happening. It's real..I'm going to be a social worker, and I am going to change people's lives, I am going to be an agent of change in the world. Me! I can't even express how excited I am, how happy and overjoyed I am...my goals are being achieved, my life plans are starting up, and I am so psyched.

Yeah. So there's this song, called 'Waiting' and when I heard it, I was like 'this perfectly describes me life right now!' And yes, it's Green Day - off of 'Warning:' which is my favorite album, as of right now. No, you know, I think it will always be my favorite. It's just amazing.

I've been waiting a long time
For this moment to come
I'm destined
For anything...at all
Downtown lights will be shining
On me like a diamond
Ring out under the midnight hour
No one can touch me now
And I can't turn my back
It's too late ready or not at all
I'm so much closer thanI have ever known...
Wake up

Dawning of a new era
Calling...don't let it catch you falling
Ready or not at all
So close enough to taste it
Almost...I can embrace this
Feeling....on the tip of my tongue
I'm so much closer thanI have ever known...
Wake up
Better thank your lucky stars....

I've been waiting a lifetime
For this moment to come
I'm destined for anything at all
Dumbstruck
Colour me stupid
Good luck
You're gonna need it
Where I'm going if I get there...
At all....
Wake up
Better thank your lucky stars....



I never thought I would make anything of myself...always thought I would wind up like my mom. But I've done something, and I'll continue to do something...to be someone worth being. This is my life, and it is all really happening, and I am so happy.

servings

This weekend, all I ate was peanutbutter cookies (so good) grape soda (I hate grape but I've been craving it for days) and soup. Delicious, soul-warming soup.

I feel pretty disgusting now. I worked out last night, but I still feel like there's sludge in my veins. I can't wait to work out tonight. I never imagined I would be so into it - before, it was just because I'm afraid of getting fat. I'm starting to love it, though. I love feeling like my body is capable of things, instead of focusing on cerebral palsy, and all the things I can't do. And it's stress relieving, and I just feel so good afterwards. I've been getting healthier lately, with my food habits too. I'm noticing that the more I focus on being healthy, eating good, excercise...the less I worry about being skinny, or who I'm fatter than, or how I measure up. And it's been so long since I've done that ...not since before 6th grade have I not been constantly preoccupied with how I compare with every other female around me. But I am gaining security, I am learning to love my body, with its fat and its bone, and the skin and muscle...I will never be perfect, so I might as well love what I am, right?

My next project is to get my correct amount of daily servings in. I'm most concerned with fruits and vegetables...grains I'll be careful about, dairy I doubt I'll make. I'd like to cut down my junk intake, but rather than take away, I'm concentrating on switching over - veggie soup instead of pasta for dinner, veggie-central lunches instead of empty calorie lunches. More fruit juice, less tea. The best thing is that a lot of these changes I'm already making, and I'm so surprised - they're really not that difficult. I tried all of this last year, and it would last a week or two, and then be over. Light dinners are effortless, now, though, and I'm finding that I don't even like potato chips - I prefer pretzels with honey mustard, when I can.

Last week was so bad, but today is so, so good, and I only hope this week is just as good. I did poorly on a test today, too, but I still feel so energized, and wonderful. I am so happy....

horror?

Zombies, aliens, and oversized bugs don't scare me. Nor do ghosts. So what does?

-A friend's boyfriend who gets too fresh

-Walking alone in the city at night

-That my mom will be sick, and could die while I am at Andrews

-They way things have been changing so fast, of late

It's not the make-believe things, it's the ones that could actually happen, might actually happen...the fears that don't fade when I turn on the lights.

silly spider

I just got out of the shower, feeling a ton better. Today has been awful...this week has sucked, but today has been absolutely awful. I felt like such a virus, and after the crappy week it's been, and the way I've been trying to smile and be happy anyway, it just sucked. Holden Caulfield was so, so right - there is not peace in this world, just a ton of 'f- you' signs.

But I am okay. I got into the shower ready to cry, and then I saw this little spider on the ledge of the tub. He scared me a whole bunch - I almost lost my footing. He was missing a few legs, and he seemed a little disoriented. I was wondering what to do - should I smush him? get a baggie and take him outside?- when I remembered BMA. I used to get daddy long leggers in my shower all the time on frosh hall. I'm terrified of daddy long leggers. When I was a kid, my brothers would dangle them over my head, sometimes actually drop them on me, and they move so fast, and they just scare me so, so much. But at BMA, I didn't have the heart to kill them, so I just let them chill in a corner, far away from me. And I realized that we can live peaceably, the daddy long leggers and I, so long as we respect one another's space.

So I didn't kill the spider in the shower. I didn't move him, either; I'm pretty sure the cold would kill him. He stayed where he was, and I stayed where I was, and I watched him try to climb the shower wall while I shampooed my hair, and he made me laugh a whole bunch. I hope no one kills him. I'll be alone all weekend, and it makes me feel better to know that I have my own little family going on - me, my goldfish Gilbert, and now the shower spider.

I want today...

Remember that song, from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory?

I want today,
I want tommorrow,
I want to lock it all up
in my pocket,
it's my bar of chocolate!
Give it to me,
now!

..The one that the bratty girl sings? I used to love that song. Not particularly because it was pretty, or anything, but because I was little, and she was a brat, and I have this weird admiration for people who have the balls to be something I never could - astronauts, veterinarians, doctors. I could never be as bratty as she was; I would feel too guilty. And so I kind of liked her, and kind of liked her song.

I like that concept. Not of demanding things, but of keeping a day, because its my bar of chocolate - my oppertunity, my chance. I've been so stressed this week, and up until now, I have maintained a positive attitude. No one is very sympathetic, though, and I'm frustrated and stressed and I feel like I'm about to break, and I just want someone to tell me they get it, and I'm not crazy, or weak, or anything...just human. Don't they get it? That it's not just today, or this week, but that for the past year, the past YEAR, I'vew had the world on my shoulders? That I feel so angry, and hurt, and rejected....that I feel guilty, and most of all, I feel like a failure, because I can't fix what she's done? My whole inside is just this awful war, barren and angry and full of landmines that even I can't map out.

But today is my day, and tommorrow, and the next. I love my sister, and I love my family, but I can't let them rob me of my happiness. I can't fix what's been done, but I CAN worry about me, and maintaining my own mental health...it's not like anyone else is going to do it for me. Maybe this is all common sense, but this week has been so awful, and I just want to scream at the top of my lungs. I am deciding here and now to be happy. Excercise has been helping, but I am implementing something else....

Five worderful things about my day. From now on, every day. Because I am bound and determined to enjoy my life, before I am a sick, ugly old lady.

1. I got a good parking spot

2. I got a good partner in Interviewing

3. I found out that I get ton of extra credit for showing up - an A in bio is still a total possibility.

4. I'm going to go frost a cake with my little sister, who now hugs me everyday <3

5. I don't have much homework, so I get to write a lot tonight.

Tommorrow is not going to suck...I refuse. I absolutely refuse to not enjoy my life.

tommorrow

I feel like crying. I don't want to wake up tommorrow, I don't want to go to school, I don't want to drag myself through another day, just to fall onto the floor in relief when it is over.

Is this all life is? Is this all my life is going to be? Dragging myself through the weekdays, for a few hours of fun that are so peppered with stress, my back holds knots for days after? There is no rest, there is no relief, and life feels endless in the worst kind of way. I was so happy today, and I smiled so much. But Chad and Carly and Cass and Lyssa can't be here to walk me through every second, to be bring me the precious laughter and the love I so crave. I can feel last year's depression creeping over my soul again, and the awful loneliness that seemed to swallow me whole. It is the one awful truth we keep coming back to, and the one thing I can't seem to heal from - forgiving and forgetting won't make it go away, it's not something I can just accept and move on from...she's gone. And it's all we are, anymore, it has consumed us completely. She is gone, and we are just the hollow seedpod she came from, suddenly empty and pointless without her. All the new campers and replaced floors in the world won't erase that fact, but we will keep trying, because we can't make her want us. I cannot make her want to be my sister.

There's this awful thought that creeps into my head some nights, when it's late like this and the world feels dead. My mother didn't want me. My sister doesn't want me. Who's next? Who will be the next one to abandon me?

but daddy, I love him!

Poor, poor Chad's car. His battery died today, and so we ran to get a battery. Or would have, but we couldn't get his out - my dad only had english measurement rachets, and he needed metric.

It took forever - we went out to get the rachets, picked up a lightbulb for my poor, busted rear blinker, and headed home. He took out the battery, and then we went to Wally World to pick up a new battery. And maybe that sounds like an awful lot of back and forth, but it was fun. Enjoyable, even. It was sunny and nice, and we listened to 'Warning' over and over (he won't admit it, but he TOTALLY loves the title song. I saw him boppin' along), and while he worked on the car, I laid out on my mexian blanket and read...and watched. It was so much fun. I don't know why I keep feeling this way, but it seems almost every weekend we spend together, I have a revelation, like 'oh...that's why I love him!'. I don't know how I forgot...I guess it's just part of the sleep that took over after Lisa left. Either way, this weekend was exhausting, but lovely...I had so much fun just being with him. I laughed so much this weekend, over the silliest things, and it felt so good, to be alive like that.

But, of course, there are my parents. Chad was parked behind me, and when we took my car to go to K-Mart for the rachets, I backed out. It was tight, but he was standing outside the car helping me, and I probably could have done it. She ran out of the house screaming, practically, and then I just froze up. I should have just continued, but with her there, waiting for me to screw up, I couldn't do it. I got out and let her handle it, just like she wanted. I hate that message they keep sending - 'you can't do it. stop trying.' They won't let me do anything on my own, but they won't offer to help, either. I can't drive anywhere too far by myself, but nobody has the time to practice with me. They get mad when I fix my own lightbulb, but they've let it go for half a week, so nobody knows when I'm turning left. The worst part is when I know I can, I know I can, but they're so discouraging that I just give up, because it's easier, and then I hate myself for it.

They put a damper on everything. And after Chad left, of course, it only got worse. My dad just doesn't seem to understand that Chad doesn't have 4 grand to fork over for a good used car. And we get into this argument all the time -

Dad: why doesn't he just get a good used car that will actually last?

Me: because he has to pay for his schooling, and he doesn't have the cash.

D: but he's putting more money into it becuase it's not a good car.

M: Yes, but he doesn't have the upfront cash to buy a good used car.

D: but he's got enough money to come up here all the time, and to pay for all the car problems.

M: that's only like, 50 bucks a month. His car doesn't always do this - typically it's good.

D: He should just buy a good, used car. You get what you pay for.

M: But he doesn't have the cash.

D: Well, he should save up.

M: BUT HE HAS TO PAY FOR SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seriously, we have had this conversation at least five times. He doesn't get it, and it makes me feel so annoyed and angry and, in a weird way, guilty. Poor Chad. Really, he works his butt off, and he's so diligent, and he hardly ever spends money on himself, and still, STILL, my parents can't respect him. They can't see any good in him, and I can't understand why. He's such a good, honest, trustworthy, hardworking person. I can't say enough good things about him, and I don't know...who do they want me to be with? Someone who lets me walk all over him? Because that's what I think this comes down to - they've heard him be dead-honest with me, they've seen me make him breakfast, and they think I should be with some pansy who treats me like a volcano who will explode on him if he doesn't worship my toes. Well, I'm sorry - I don't want a woman for a boyfriend, I want someone with balls. I want a guy who will be honest with me, who will tell me when I'm out of line, and when I need to grow up. I want someone who sees me as a person, not a prize to be won, and that's who I've found. I just hate that they can't love him, and I worry that it will make our relationship harder, in the end. But it can't all be rainbows and hearts, right?

Cider!!!!

I think I have redeemed myself from the 'worst girlfriend ever' category.

Basically, I forgot Chad's birthday. Not really forgot, I guess, but I couldn't find a good present. He wanted an ipod dock, but his family got him that, and he wanted a watch, but it seemed so impersonal (or engagement-y, you pick) so I stewed and stewed. All weekend, he's been saying things like 'it doesn't have to be a monetary thing. You can give me a good dinner, a fun experience...'. But me, I don't feel right if he doesn't walk away with SOMETHING - a picture, a slice of pie. And so, I decided to make apple cider, one of his all-time favorite beverages.

Only, you have to ferment cider for three days. So, what's a girl to do? Basically, I made spiced, hot apple juice. I took six apples (they were all that was in the fridge) peeled, cored and diced them, then blended them 2 by 2 until they were the cosistancy of applesauce. Then, I took an old, super-clean T shirt and laid it over the mouth of a bowl. I poured most of the mixture in, then gathered up the shirt and twisted it, so that all the apple goo was in a little ball. I squeezed and squeezed, and the juice came out all the tiny little holes in the shirt.

This went on for the majority of the cider-making experience. By the time I got all the juice out, my arms were aching, and I had a very awkward, flavorless apple paste in my T shirt. I rolled that into a ball and threw it outside, for some poor hungry creature to eat. Then, I took all this juice, dumped it into a pot, spiced it with cinnamon , cloves and a little bit of lemon zest, and let it boil. (Oh, and I threw the T shirt out, in case you were wondering.)

After an hour and a half of work, I'm left with 2 1/2 cups of cider...which I put into a water bottle, and into the fridge. There was a tiny bit left over, and it is phenomenal. I really, really hope he likes it, because I am SO proud of myself - this stuff is amazing. My plan is to give him this bottle as a sample, and promise more when I have a bit of time, and an extra gallon jug. Or, maybe I can show him how to make it tommorrow.

Either way, I'm super-happy.....<3

morbid

Is it weird that I find graveyards so fascinating? There's one near my house that has these strange candles...when you pass it at night, different gravestones have a tiny little glow in front of them. It's absolutely surreal, but I adore it.

This picture was taken at Hickory Run state park. It used to be a villiage, but it was flooded in the 1800s. Basically, this rich dude built a dam, and it rained and the dam brokme down ( he had it made pretty cheaply) and a ton of people drown. The villiage was destroyed, and all that remains are a few buildings you can still see today. But if you go up in the woods across from the ranger's station (which used to be one of the old houses) there is a mini graveyard. It's where most of the people who died in the flood are buried, and it's amazing. So....I don't even know. The way the sun comes streaming through the pine trees, and the way some of the graves are cracked and broken, some headstones are only an upright rock, and there are all these faded silk flowers and broken candleholders...in front of a little boy's grave, I found a pinwheel, still spinning. It's beautiful. Maybe it is morbid of me, and maybe its only been in the last few months, but I love the peace you find there, where everyone is sleeping. Dead people can't cry, they can't freak out or hurt. It's the only place on this planet where you can ever find real peace.

robbers!

Right now, there are police across the street, while I work on my abortion position paper (3 pages in - glory hallelujiah!). Apparantly, our neighbors are vacationing in California, and some boys staked out their house, and broke in. We called the cops, who are inspecting right now.

I feel like I'm in an episode of CSI.

This isn't the first time something like this has happened, though - there's always a fire, or someone hitting a tree, or a drug deal. This is supposed to be a safe development, a place for families. how on Earth did it get so crime-ridden?

That girl

When does admiration turn into jealousy?

I have so many friends who are beautiful people. Take Cass, for instance. Cass is pretty, and she can make anyone laugh. She knows all the best places and all the funniest people, when you are with her, you WILL have a good time. All through middle school and highschool, the boys I liked were crushing on Cass.

Or how about Lisa? Lisa is GORGEOUS, skinny, and has this kind, sweet demeanour. I mean, yeah, she can be a total bitch, but for the most part, she's amazing. As sisters, we were always that sterotypical pair - the older sister who is gorgeous but empty-headed, and the younger sister, who is opinionated and makes you laugh. But boys don't care about laughing...or at least, with us they never did.

And the ones who are so talented - Rach, Lyssa, Carrie. Rach and Lyssa have these gorgeous poems, this amazing ability with words that I just lack. And Carrie draws like..well, like it's what her arm was meant to do.

Don't get me started on Carly. She's so pretty, in that awful accidental way...she gets out of the shower and looks amazing. And she looks good in everything she wears, AND, AND she can sing like you wouldn't believe, AND she can draw....and she has this artistic taste that makes me feel like a rounded corner, with my little Green Day cds .

You see what I mean? They are all so beautiful, all people I love being around, but it all makes me feel so small, like a round little river pebble surrounded by gemstones. Because I have never been the girl that guys pine after, I have never been the girl who knows all the cool people, or the girl whose voice makes you stand still in your steps, waiting for the next note. No one is thrilled by the chance to know me, no one is enamoured of me. I guess we can't all be amazing, but still, it makes me feel so plain.....I want to be that girl.

westbound

Boxed up
All of her favorite things
Sold the rest at a rainy yard sale
Big plans and leaving friends and
A westbound sign
Weighed out
Her choices on a scale
Prevailing nothing made sense
Just transportation and a
Blank decision... she's taking off
No time and no copping out
She's burning daylight and petrol
Blacked out the rearview mirror
Heading westward on
Strung out
On confusion road
And ten minute nervous breakdowns
Xanex a beer for thought
And she determined... She's taking off

Is it salvation?
Or an escape from discontent?
Will she find her name
In the California cement?
Punched out of the grind
That punched her one too many times...
Is tragedy 2000 miles away?


She's taking off

-Westbound Sign, Green Day



I'M GOING TO MICHIGAN - cue the Snoopy dances!

well

My throat is scratchy, and my chest is filling with goo. I don't feel well at all, and there is so much to it than that.

I went to bed early. It's so sad, Carly's only been gone a day, and I already feel...empty. Having a companion always reminds me of how lonely my day-to-day life is. I'm such a social person, and everywhere I go, I talk to someone - so why do I feel so alone?

I'm going to see if Cass and I can get together tonight. Yes, I'm sick, and I have my abortion paper to work on, but I also need to worry about my mental well-being, right? Right. Besides, we need to discuss story, and I need more Green Day (I've been listening to Nimrod for two weeks straight now) AND, I think Cass could use a little goof-off time. Poor kid's been so busy, lately.

I wore the sandalwood bracelet today, along with a beaded one I got at Bloom Fair. I was reading the little paper about the meaning of sandalwood, and it was so...fitting. I mean, it's supposed to encourage me to live in the present, to be here, in this moment. It reminds me of something Shane said to me so long ago, about how I need to stop thinking so far ahead in my life, and enjoy the here and now, while it lasts. And so, tonight I will go to Cass's, and enjoy my life, as it is today.

buicks

I hate watching people drive away.

This weekend was amazing. I love my friends...seriously, however shitty my life might be, I have the greatest circle of people around me. I love Cass, and the antics she brings, and Lyssa, and the understanding we have, and Carrie, who can make a connection with me in 2 seconds, no matter how long it's been between our sightings.

And Carly? Um, yeah. Love her. It's funny, because nothing worked out the way I thought it would. She didn't come to the church thing Friday night, we didn't actually reach the pretty house to take pictures (massive apologies, Lita) AND, saturday night was total bust fair-wise. Honestly, I've never even BEEN to bloom fair during daylight hours, so it was really, really weird today. But the rescue mission for Chad Friday night was amazing, even if it was hella stressful. The 5 mile in the rain walk on Sabbath was amazing, and it even made me all warm and fuzzy to show Lita my nana and pop's house, and all the things I loved about that place when I was a kid. And then the baking Saturnday night, and watching The Other Boleyn girl on my poor, slow computer.....2 hours of viewing, just to see maybe 50 minutes, all peppered with hilarious youtube videos (I do NOT wear diapers!) .....ah! And then the fair today, with the elephants! It was just so, so good, and it made me miss her. I miss having her down the hall, right where I can reach her. I miss the long walks and the rain storms, the tea parties....I remembered so many things about her, and our friendship, and the chemistry there that I'd somehow forgotten. Makes me so happy.


It was bittersweet. Why does Lisa get so mixed up in everything? I don't even know how she make me feel so sad somethimes. But there were all these times this weekend, where Carly and I would be having a great time, and I'd have this awful pang, like, 'how long has it been since I laughed like this with my sister?' All through church, I was just on the verge of tears. It's been so long since I sang a hymn near someone, near a girl with a decent voice, and it made me so sad. I remember singing with Lisa, and laughing when I would screw up the words to the hymns I didn't know. Sometimes, I miss her so much I can hardly breathe.

It was such a good weekend, however sad it might have been. I don't realize how lonely I get in the house, sisterless, until someone comes...watching the car pull out today, I got all sad, the same way I do when Charlie horse leaves. It's no different to have him, or her, or Cassie or Lyssa. Just as long as there's some here, to help fill the empty house again.

bruises upon bruises

She's sick. And then, I find out it was cancer, and then I find out the cancer's still there. With my mom, it's never over, right?

Of course not. Because if worrying myself sick for a few months isn't bad enough, adopto-mom drops ANOTHER bomb on me today. Stupid me, I asked if maybe we could call my grandmother, to see if she knew anything.

Adopto-mom reminds me that she moved recently, we don't have her number. But Marilyn must be alive, Jenn would've called if she was dead. In fact, she spoke with Jenn a few months ago, and Jenn said that since she got our of the hospital, she's been 'off'. Adopto-mom explains that that's probably why she hasn't called, and why she didn't send a birthday card.

"off"? Basically, my mom forgot that I exist. Nine months, it's been NINE MONTHS, and she's not sick, she's not hurt, she alive and a little 'off'', just enough to, you know, forget her fourth-born daughter.

It hurts. I don't know why I even care anymore, why I expect enough of her to be constantly dissappointed, but I can hardly breathe. I've accepted that I wasn't important enough to take care of, and not worth the bother of fighting for. But a card, or a phone call? I'm not even worth remembering, now? I wish I didn't know her. What's the point? Fifteen years I've been visiting her off the books, trying to figure out where she fits into my life. And silly me, I can't stop crying, because my mom forgot me.

RIP

The things I count as lost ....


-my sister

-my relationship with pj

- the best-friendship with lyssa

-ditto for moo

-my hopes of having a cat/dog while home

-my close friendship with Erika

- my respect for Matt




.......

you don't know

Today is Katie and Sabrina's adoption day. I'm excited, I really am, and I love them. After work (I'm not going in 'til four!!!) I'm going to stop and get flowers for them AND Erin, whose adoption I missed, and who I love very, very much. I've been trying ot hug her daily, to let her know that she is loved, even if we don't always get along. I forgot to do it with Amanda, I forgot to do it with Lisa. I'll be damned if I'm going to forget to do it with Erin, and lose her too.

That's the thing. I am happy for them, but I am sad for me. I miss Lisa, so much. The other day I was sitting in church...it's so hard, it's so damn hard. I watch all these sisters, with their giggles and their secret language, the looks and smiles, the way they can communicate so many things with a simple shove, a raise of the eyebrows. I miss that so much, I feel this awful emptiness, this awful aching. I can't remember the way her laugh sounds. I can see it so clearly, the way she held her mouth open, eyes shut, but it's a picture with no sound, a stillframe in my head. I can't remember her walk, the way her elbow felt shoving into my side. My memories of her are slowly disintegrating, being watered down by the bitter ones, all her angry words and gestures, neglected phone calls and bored sighs. I'm afraid that I'll lose her forever, and she won't be anything more to me than an ache, a scar on my heart.

Everyone tries to tell me she was jealous, to label our relationship. They don't know, though - no one does. There is a secret world between sisters, with codes and languages, detailed histories and shared secrets. They don't know about her and Jimmy Carpenter, or the way we would get ready for church and bed together, always. We were so tightly connected for so long, shared so many secrets and late nights talking. There was a love there that no one will understand, both of us protecting eachother and loving, and being. That is gone, lost, and I feel so....

it just makes me sad. We were adopted together, and so many other things were done together, so that now I can't go anywhere without feeling this negativity next to me, like a placeholder waiting for her to come back and take up the space beside me. I'm skipping out of so many events, because I don't want to go without her, without my other half. I am learning to live with this, I am. And tommorrow, and the day after, everything will be okay, it will.

she

She screams in silence
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind.
Waiting for a sign
to smash the silence with
the brick of self-control.

Are you locked up in a world
that's been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool
without a use?
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you.

She's figured out
all her doubts were someone else's point of view.
Waking up this time to
smash the silence with the brick of self-control.

Are you locked up in a world
that's been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool
without a use?
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you.

Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you.




yet again, Green Day sings the story of my life

camping

I just got back from camping...and it totally sucked. It was awful, and even when Chad came...he just doesn't mesh with my family, it doesn't work. He's fabulous, he's all the things I love, but all of those things are things they don't understand, and so they look at him like some kind of toad, and I can see my mom cocking her head, like 'why do you want him?', the same way she used to look at me when I picked out a weird pair of shoes. He is not in line with The Plan, all the things they would love for me to want, to be, and I know it bothers her. It bothers me that I know this, and no one will ever aknowledge it as truth, because it is not a pretty truth.

I guess that was the biggest problem, here. They are complacent, they are happy, and it just pisses me off, because I'm not. They are content to let her go, but I can't do that, I can't just pretend that we are a big, happy family, we camp, and we go to the beach and we are so happy, right? No. No, no, no. There is no family, not without her, not when one of us has been so easily cast aside. I want to scream, so loud, that we are not alright, and we need to stop pretending. We need to rip our clothes and scream and cry and mourn, we need to fight for her, we need to woo her back, or at least try. What kind of family just lets people fall to the wayside?

I think they are trying to mask it all. I don't know, I know I sound like Dr. Phil, but all this camper crap...they need a bigger one, then camping will be awesome! And the new SUV will make everything better! I hated being there, the beach was so crowded, and because I don't like having people all over, everywhere, I am antisocial. It was so hard to be there, when I can't budge these 10 pounds and everyone was so damn skinny and it just felt like they were all looking at me, judging me, thinking about my fat and my thighs. Girls like me do not belong at the beach, not during peak hours. And the campground was SO crowded, and there were like, two trees in the whole damn place, and all I could think about was Lisa. If she was there, we would have been bumming around together, laughing. We would have been tanning, and when we went in the ocean we would comment on everyone and everything, and we would giggle and be stupid. I miss her. I miss who I am when I'm with her, or when I was with her. I feel like since she left, I haven't really been myself, or the me that I liked being. Everything feels out of balance, like a huge chunk of me is gone, and everyone keeps looking at me, like 'why are you upset? everything is fine.' No, it's not. It hasn't been, not for a long time. The beach, vacation, summer...none of it has been right since she left, and I wish someone other than me would say it.

Say Anything...

Last night was both more and less than I thought it would be. And you know, I think I'm okay with that.

I slept a long time Friday night - went to bed around 12:30, woke up at 10:30. I watched church, ate an apple bomb that I made the night before (basically apple dumplings in a casserole dish, surrounded by more apples with lots of butter, brown sugar and cinnamon. ) then had some Ramen. When I thought I was going to fall asleep, I went over to my grandparents, hung out for a while, and came home. By 4:00, I was napping...woke up at 7:30, and started getting ready for guests.

Originally, it was supposed to be Cass, Tom and myself. Tom and I have had a good thing going, and I kind of want to see if we can have a real, functioning friendship...while I'm still in town, why not, right? I mean, I can always use more friends, and as long as he doesn't get fresh with me (which he hasn't yet - I think he knows half of the town would be after him) it's kind of nice hanging out with him. He was uber exhausted, though, and Rach wanted to know if she could come. so, Cass and Rach came over.

For the first couple hours, we didn't do much of anything. We just kind of talked, Cass and I caught up on writing, Rachel did her own thing. Then, we grabbed the CD player and went swimming...Cass and I have a tradition now where we play this old, ridiculous Celine Dion CD whenever we swim, so that's what we played. Rach wanted to skinny dip, so we did. we played volleyball with a beach ball, and played Truth, which wasn't as fun as I wanted it to be. It was okay, I guess, but not the soul-hitting way it was when Cass, Tom and I played the other night. Around midnight I brought us each out a Monster, since Cass and I were planning on watching the sunrise, and we drank them in the pool ( I didn't spill any, I swear). We went in soon after that, Rach got a shower, and more hanging out ensued.

Around 3:30 or something like that, Cass and I put 'Say Anything...' on. Rachel fell asleep on my couch, and Cass and I wrote in hte dark while we watched. I've seen it on TV so many times, but I never bothered to stop and watch, because the description always sounded so boring. Seriously, though, it's so good. I heart John Cusack, and this was so cute, and parts of it were so sad, so enfuriating...I mean, it was more than just some stupid love story, there was so much more to it than that. Plus, it has that scene, that's been copied about a billion times, where he holds the boombox up outside her window, and it's playing the song they made love to..<3

Cass had to leave at 5:30, so when the movie was off I made her a quick breakfast, walked her to her car, and got settled. I took my comforter downstairs and settled in on the love seat..fell asleep around 6:15, woke up at 8:45 and made Rachel banana pancakes, while listening to Green Day. She was gone by 9:30, and so I cleaned up, and have been chilling ever since. Like I said, it really wasn't what I was expecting, but it was still a good time.

Cass read ' A Temporary Matter' and ADORED it...she even liked the ending, which made me happy. I mean, that ending is like a punch to the throat, and either you like that kind of story, or you just sit there going ' Why on earth would she write that? That's a terrible, terrible thing to write.' Amd it is a terrible ending...but life is like that. That's what I love about Jhumpa Lahiri...her endings aren't the happy, everything winds up beautiful kind, or the cruel twist of irony kind. They're just so...real. The protagonist doesn't get everything they want, and if it is a happy ending, it is not a perfect one, just a not-sad, there is hope kind of ending. Her sad ones are the best, though, in my opinion. She really captures humanity at those raw, broken moments, and as you read your breath catches in your throat, and you sit there reading this, in awe, because it is a mirror reflection of life, real life...probably your life, even. Her books are beautiful, and I adore her...I should go check to see if she has more stuff coming out.

Speaking of books, I can't wait to get to B&N. I found this collection of Beth Henley plays that I'm pretty sure will be amazing. I mean, I already really, really want 'Am I Blue?'...it's my favorite play, ever. But her other stuff? I'm dying to see that, too, to read it and know it and absorb it. She is such an amazing author.

Goodness! I'm all happy now! My pinky is no longer sore, so I am going to go write more Lost Song. Cass is 10 pages ahead, and I really want to catch up with her today. Plus, I did some research, so I can make things more realistic this time around.

Angela Park

This weekend was...amazing. I feel like me again, the me that I thought totally died last summer. Maybe it is the music, or hanging out with Cass so much. All I know is, on Sabbath we went to Angela Park, and then on Sunday, I was driving at 3:30 in the morning with charlie horse, and the sky was dark with these crazy orange Mordor clouds over this one town, and it was like we were on some incredible journey. All of a sudden, everything felt okay...more than okay. Good, right, happy. I was in love with life, today, and it was wonderful.

Angela Park was soooo cool. The Balloon festival was amazing, but I will get to that another day. Today, it's all about Angela. It used to be an amusment park from the late 50s to the early 80s...my mom spent most of her childhood there. It got shut down, and then things got plowed over, and then they filled in the pool. That kind of sucked - it was supposedly the biggest public pool in PA, or something crazy like that. People used to skate in the pool, before it was filled in (with dirt). Now, it's this crazy hole of grass and bugs and animals and stuff. I had so much fun walking around and taking pictures, trying to figure out what was a ride..I found what I think is part of a scrambler, the mini golf course, the baseball and basketball courts, and the pool. Chad and I walked along the mini train trail, but the tracks were all ripped up, so we didn't know it until later.

Going to Pasalacqua

So, I have been listening to Green Day's first album, a combination of records they made early on. The album is 1,039/ Smoothed Out Slappy Hours, and there is this amazing song. It is really pretty, and the words are awesome, but it is so much better when you actually hear the song. Here are the lyrics, anyway.....

Going to Pasalacqua

Here we go again, infatuation
Touches me just when I thought that it would end
Oh but then again it seems
Much more than that but
I'm not sure exactly what you're thinking

I toss and turn all night
Thinking of your ways of affection
But to find that it's not different at all
I throw away my past mistakes
And contemplate my future that's when I say...
What the hey!?!?

Would I last forever?
You and I together, hand and hand
We run away (far away)
I'm in for nasty weather
But I'll take whatever you can give that comes my way (far away)

Look it up...it's freakin' amazing. <3

biohazzard orange and barbie pink

I absolutely hate words.

It seems like lately, I cannot find the words to express anything I'm feeling, even this stuff with my mom. AUC is loosing its accredidation, so it looks like I'll be going to Andrews the fall after this one. Which, I would be excited for, if it didn't mean leaving behind things...

I keep saying I don't have to choose, I can have both, but nobody thinks it's possible, save Cass, and I don't know. I hate how it is turning out, and I hate that no words can express what's going on in my head. It's ridiculous, and it sucks.

I painted my toenails biohazzard orange (courtesy of Lita's abandoned stash) and then did a layer of this obnoxious Bonbon color...it's bright, sparkly barbie pink. They look so disgusting and bright and happy and...girly. Which is exactly the opposite of the way I feel right now. Maybe they are just toenails. Myabe they do not say anything deep, but right now it is nice to have one part of me, one tiny little piece of me that is, for all points and purposes, happy.

bustin' cappillaries

More conniptions.

Cass and I didn't hang out the way we had planned tonight, which is so stupid and small, especially since she didn't promise anything. It lead to much gnashing of the teeth, popping of the cappillaries, and, ultimately, me doing a whole lot of writing/watching Green Day on FUSE/ playing sims. Which is not such a bad thing, I suppose, but it seems so silly for my whole world to melt down because I cannot get out of the house.

Lisa called, also. It was so fake and ridiculous. Who is that girl? I don't know her. I had to get off the phone with her. She seriously, honest to God went 'So how are your parents?' My parents? Mine? Excuse me, miss runs-away-from-her-problems-and-fucks-over-everyone-she-loves, they are YOUR parents, too, just like I am your sister. Or was. I don't even know what to think of it, or how to feel. I just wish this could all be over. It is so damn excruciating to watch all of this happen, to never be able to do anything, to speed it up or stop it. My sister's insanity, my mother slowly rotting away. So many things that matter to me are being ripped from my hands, and I am powerless to stop it, to salvage the pieces.

That is what I mean, about the restlessness...or at least, why I think it is happening. I can't hold still knowing all of this is going on. It's a distraction, yes, but more than that, writing, hanging out, doing something, constantly being in motion...it makes me feel like I am doing something. No, going out with Cass will not keep my mother from dying, and no, it will not make my sister into a normal functioning human being. But. It means I am doing something, something other than sitting around and letting it all happen. So, yeah.

The thing is, a lot of people still don't know about Marilyn being super-sick (and currently unaccounted for - WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!?) . for instance, miss alyssa. I wrote a few poems concerning the whole ordeal. They didn't specifically say 'hey everyone, my mom is real sick!', but they had to do with taking her place, and the last one is just about all of this...me, coping with it in this bizzarre way. No one gets it, though. I mean, AP has turned into all of us just bitching about eachother, and if it isn't about them, they don't care. What the hell, right? I don't know, maybe i should just come out and say it, but in conversation, it doesn't come out right. I hate saying it to people's faces, or even over the phone, because it all sounds so weak. My mom is sick. I'm scared. Everything is falling around me, and I don't know what will happen...I don't even know where she is right now, or how sick she is, or if she is dead on the side of a road somewhere, rotting away because nobody really cares, no one ever has, and it was my job to know, my job to care, and I didn't know, I didn't know at all. How can the world keep turning, how can no one notice at all, when I feel like I can't even breathe without the Earth shaking?

hangnails

Ugh.

There has been all this drama, and it all involves friends who are no longer friends and people who don't want to talk and it is all entirely ridiculous. We keep saying that we don't want to do the highschool drama thing, well, what are we doing? Hmn?

I want plans tommorrow night. And the night after that, and the night after that. I want to not think, not feel, just be out and busy, because home hurts and my head hurts and my heart hurts, and I am so sick of everything. I don't even know what I want anymore, what and who are important to me, or where I want my life to be headed. Everything keeps changing again, each time I look at it, and nothing is what I thought it was, and I am coming to find that you can't have everything you want...sometimes, you don't get anything at all.

It is impossible for me to hold still

I had a conniption today. Why? I have no plans tonight.

Ever since the Boston drama / writing of LSON started, I have been out almost every night. I have been eating less (lost 5 pounds, woot woot!) , as I think my stomach shrank a little while I was stressed, and I have been sleeping a lot less too. I am pretty happy about all of this. I have less fat and more time, and I am reading and writing and hanging out to my little heart's content.

So what is the problem? The problem is that when this whirlwind of activity stops, I find myself having a mini panic attack. I am currently incapable of holding still. I don't want to be home, even if I'm home writing. I want to be busy, laughing, smiling, active at all times. I want to be shining and bright and just absolutely stunning, like star filled with energy, like a comet that never, ever stops soaring. And why? Why am I so anxious to be active, why can't I hold still?

I am distraught inside. My sister is gone. I will never be a happy person, not the way I used to be, because she is gone and not a part of my lifew and I miss her. I keep thinking I will adjust, but I don't, it just becomes a different kind of pain. She is my sister, my other half, and my life without her is missing something, and it hurts.

There is more. My mother is dying. She is missing a kidney, and she will need another one, because the one she has isn't very functional, and, you know, she's abusing the crap out of it. I don't know how I can deal with that, honestly. I just...I can't fathom myself without that constant balance, that pulling, tugging, awful feeling she holds me with. She is my mother, she is a burden, she has passed on so many horrible qualities, she has complicated my life so much. And yet I love her so much, so much that I still feel rejected by her, so much that seeing her in the hospital set me over the edge each time. One comment about her not being in a good condition today completely threw off my day, leaving me a mess. I love my mom. She is such a huge part of who I am, and she has strongly influenced what I want to be, even if it is mostly out of fear of becoming her.

Part of me wants to believe that she will bounce back, because she always used to. In the past few years, though, she has been getting sicker and sicker, until now, she doesn't even look like herself. She had cancer on that kidney, and not enough money to do anything to prevent it for her other one. Am I willing to give up a kidney for her, knowing she will probably destroy it? Am I even the same blood type as her? My mother might die, and I am trying to prepare myself for it. Jen once said that she's always waiting for that call, always on the endge, knowing it could happen any day. It's become a reality, now, a real, true anticipation. It is a huge possibility, a likely one, and I know I am not fit to handle it, I am not capable. I will not be okay if it happens, and I am afraid, so afraid. I love her.

right now

I have been everywhere, all over, and I have decided that there is only one way to summarize my life right now - another list.

10 Things I wish I could say to 10 people right now...


1. Exclusion isn't my thing - find another friend, please.

2. I can't trust you when you push things, and it kills our relationship.

3. Stop stressing, and enjoy being the beautiful person you are - there's a reason we love you so much.

4. We can make this work, and if we can't I'll die trying.

5. Seriously? You are so immature it makes my head explode.

6. If you stopped being an asshole, we might be pretty good friends.

7. Do you want to be my friend, or do you want to save me? You can't have both.

8. Cut the drama - let's enjoy our youth, eh?

9. Your sudden excitement makes me wonder if you valued me before I came around.

10. Stop letting people walk on you - you are awesome, and they will stomp it out.

The Carly Minutes

I have been very blessed, of recently.

Back in the day (by which I mean when I was still at BMA) the girls dorm had a clothesline put on the bulletin board. Girls could write a note to a friend, a word of encouragement or what have you, and clip it to the line, where their friend would see it, and read it, and be cheered.

Well, Lita and I abused that line like it was nobody's business. During my shift at work, I would write her a note with stick figure illustrations, and during her work shift, she would write one back. I don't think there was a time when you could look at that board without seeing a note for Carlita or Steevo. A lot of times, there would be a million of them, and when I would read hers, I would laugh and laugh.

It was one of so many things between us, though. Now that we are talking so frequently (by which I mean I call her like a million times a day) I keep thinking of other things. for example, today I was eating raisin bran for dinner, and I had this exact thought : "Carly, my raisin bran gets mushy when it's wet. We should throw some." I have never thought to a person before, and looking back, it's kind of weird. But it was immediately followed by another thought. Back at BMA, we had this sort of symbiotic relationship - she hated raisins, which I loved, and so she would give me all the raisins from her granola/raisin bran. And I had this thought, like, 'How will I get her raisins when I go to Boston?' And then, I drew this:

graveyard

Today after work, my Bible study was canceled, so I walked to this church by my house - it looks really cool from a little down the hill. I got caught up in the graveyard, though - some of the tombstones are really, really old, and they are beautiful, sort of captivating.

Chad and I usually go sledding on the hill next to this graveyard. Cemetaries don't really scare me, when I lived with my birth mom there was one in our backyard, and I have lived with one on the corner ever since then. I think there is a peaceful beauty there, if I am allowed to say that. It's a little weird to think that there are rotting bodies beneath your feet when you walk, but once you get over that, it's interesting.

Last year, in April or something, Chad and I went for a walk and just sort of relaxed on the hill next to the graveyard. This kid lives in the house across the street, and he came over to talk to us. We stayed there for a half an hour or so, he smoked a cigarrette while we talked, and then we left. It was a cool moment - he and I have lived a couple hundred yards away from eachother our entire lives, and yet we had never met before.

Well, today while I was taking pictures of all the flowers that had been blown from the graves to a nearby ditch (they were laying there with broken bottles and beer cans. It was sort of poetic.) The same kid called me over, and we started talking. When he asked me for my phone number, I gave it. I mean, I totally intended to make up the last four digits, but I am apparantly incapable of lying, because my real digits sort of blurted out. He wanted to hang out tonight, but I told him I couldn't and now he wants to call me tommorrow. I didn't think he would call...is that weird? I can't tell you how many people have asked for my number or programed mine into their phone, and we never talk. Ever. So I am hoping he forgets, or gets busy, or was really as messed up as I think he was, and won't recognize my name tommorrow.

I know it was dangerous, and stupid. I don't know what I was thinking, but I changed my voicemail so that it just reads the number, and I am hoping that if I ignore him enough, he will stop calling, or think I faked him out. I feel bad about this, especially since I will probably see him again. But what else can I do? I can't think of anywhere I would be comfortable hanging out with him, and I wouldn't want to go anywhere he invited me - I know his friends, and they aren't the type I'd feel safe around. In a perfect world, we would be able to hang out without me feeling endangered, but I can't think of anything that would work. So.

The Lost Song of Nimrod

Currently, this is my favorite exceprt from the re-vamped 'The Lost Song of Nimrod'. It has drinking in it, which I normally don't condone, but it was a part of the story before I felt that way, so I have retain it for nostalgia's sake.


He handed me a cup and we headed outside. Walking, I tripped over the doorframe and lauched forward, spilling a bit of whatever it was before regaining balance.
"Easy, skipper." Tre slipped an arm around my waist, steadying me. I felt silly and giddy, like anything could happen. Cool air was rushing around my head and the stars were so bright, so bright.
"Tonight is so weird," I told him, taking a sip - rum and Coke. "All these things we never thought would happen - you, the band, the possible record deal - all tonight. I'm afraid it's not real, like any minute I'll wake up and it will be gone, just a dream that will never be...never be..." The words escaped me as he leaned against the brick, those brilliant blue eyes so intent, focused.
"Never be?" He prodded. I paused. I was pretty far gone.
"Never be as intense, as vivid. As it is, you know, right now."


That's all you get. Spirits have improved tonight...hopefully I will feel better tommorrow.

the post that explains what has been wrong with me over the past year.

June 12 was the one year anniversary. Of my sister abandoning us.

The last day I saw her was the Thursday before she left. She and my family went to Knobles for free, like we do every year - the adoption agency provides it. I couldn't go because I had to work full time that day. She came to pick me up, and she was mad because Anna's car had a flat tire, so they had to take my mom's van and Lisa's car, but my mom made my dad drive Lisa's car with the kids in it, since she said Lisa wasn't a safe driver. When Lise picked me up, she was all mad about that. My dad was testing her brakes, and he kept hitting them suddenly. It really pissed Lisa off.

She had to stop for gas, and I remember it so clearly : my feet were on the dashboard my toes were still the sparkly orange I bought during Class Trip. It felt like the first day of summer, the first day you really feel free and happy, like everything in the world is right. We drove home, and had dinner. She went to bed early, and I played sims until late.

She had work early, so in the morning I left a Sarah Dessen book on her pillow. It was a big one - "This Lullaby"? Maybe "The Truth About Forever"? I don't completely remember, I just know that it was a good one. My mom took me to work, and picked me up. We went downtown, and it came time for Lisa to call, telling my mom she got home safe. She didn't call though. We called the house, and her cellphone, and no one was picking up. So we started freaking out.

What if she got in a car accident? What if she was smashed against a tree somewhere? We raced home, checking all the trees, all the buildings for that beat-up Ford Focus, trying to see if she was anywhere. But she wasn't. She wasn't home, either, and then we realized that her toothbrush was gone, and her laundry. Half of her wardrobe was missing. She must have been packing slowly for weeks, and I suddenly remembered seeing her a week earlier with a duffle bag. "Running away?" I'd asked, and we'd laughed. Laughed.

We still couldn't get a hold of her. We called my nana and pop, and when my dad came home, we told him. Around six 'o clock, she answered him. She told him that she was in the area, she was safe - and she wasn't coming home. She 'just had to get away' and she couldn't take it anymore.

Everything sucked for the next couple weeks. Everything sucked for a long, long time. My parents alternated between angry and distraught, and I just sort of found distraught and stayed there. I had to put up with all of their guesses, all of their angry words, everything. They said she was jealous of me, that she'd never really been happy, all sorts of awful things. It sucked. Nobody wants to be the cause for someone's misery.

The thing is, I missed her more than anything. Lisa nad I have always been kind of jealous of eachother. She's pretty, I'm smart. I make friends more easily, but everyone wants to date her. We're such different people, but together, we were a team. I helped her figure things out, she helped me take things a little lighter. I never even realized how big of a part of me she was until she was gone, and then it was just like someone had ripped out my heart and stomped on it with cleats. I wrote dozens of angry, hurt poems, poems about sadness and guilt and the dark, dark abyss she'd left me in, where suddenly I was expected to soothe all the wounds she'd left- soothe my parents', and mine, and my whole damn family's . I was like the Lisa spokeperson, explaining everything so that it hurt them less.

I was really depressed for the first few months. I totally fucked up some friendships because I was too upset, too down, to alone feeling to connect with anyone. I just didn't want to deal with them. There were times when I wanted to cut, or go back to Bulimiaville, and times I just wanted to end it all. It is not that dark any longer, but some days are still terrible.

Like today. Today I was driving down the road and I saw a Ford Focus. It just brought everything up and I started crying, bawling in my car as I drove home. I miss my sister, and she is not the same person, even when she calls, even when she tries to connect. I miss the person she was, and the relationship we had. It feels like she's dead, and I don't know what I can do or how we can make it the way it was, or even if it can ever be what it was. So many things can never be taken back. She will never be a part of our family like she was before, she will never be as close to me as she was before. I hate it and it totally sucks, and there are these terrible days like today, where I wonder if I will ever be happy again.

It is consuming me tonight. It is this awful ache in me that never goes away, and I wonder if it was partly my fault, and I think of all the times I told my mom that she wasn't alright, but didn't push the subject because I was afraid my mom would be hurt or offended, and it was all so stupid. All the nights she watched the Hills in the livingroom and I sat in the green room playing Sims, all the nights I could have reached out, but didn't.

I am sad, and I miss my sister. I hope one day, this will all heal, and we will be a real family again.