Hey hi! Yes, I'm blogging alot lately. I've realized no matter what I need to make an effort because this makes me feel good, and that's important. :p
So. I went to my grandfathers house this weekend... His new house. I love it, I think it's perfect for them. But, it's also hard to drive right past the house that I've been going to since, I was born. I mean that's the reason my Dad came to Canada, and it's where all of his awesome childhood stories take place. It's where I had some of the most amazing times of my life, and where all of my memories of my grandmother take place. My grandmother died when I was around six. It's really confusing, my memories of her, I can't seem to get the timeline right. The number one memory that I have of her, is the day we went to her funeral, I think, and she did mine and my sisters hair. I mean, that can't be right. It bugs me because I want to know but, I don't know how to ask. I don't know how to ask because I don't like to bring it up. Why? I have no idea, there's like this energy surronding her memory, that I feel if I cross it something bad will happen. Weird I know.
Why do we yell? Why do we raise our voice in anger, or excitment, or in happiness. It's an ugly sound, a raised voice. What is naturally your voice becomes strained and heavy. It sounds full of hatred. What used to be a kind hearted voice full of love and effection, turns. Turns into a monster that crawls out of the depths of your stomach and comes out spitting and clawing at it's victim. I hate yelling. I yell, I'm not denying it but, I can remember when I was younger I'd become ill when I'd hear someone yell. I'd want to vomit, hide and be sick. I remember whenever my mom would yell I'd want to go to bed. I'd want to hide under the bed because the monster has taken her over and turned her into the wrong being. My mom is the most amazing woman I know. She raised me and my sister while keeping a good relationship with my Dad. My Dad is the most amazing man I know because he has dealt with not seeing us everyday amazingly. I admire my parents. I admire my step-parents aswell. I admire my step-mom for staying strong and being the peace keeper between my dad, sister, and I. I admire my step-dad for being the peace-keeper as well, and taking care of his mom the way he does. I don't know how they do it.
I fell like no matter what happens we always end up back at sqaure one. I'm affraid. I hate this. I'm affraid one day I will wake up and the house will be silent because everyone gave up on each other. That's what it has come down to. It's become a visous cirlce, no matter what happens we are back to the place we were... HELL. You want to experience hell? Come to my house on a Saturday evening when something contraversial is brought up. You can't have normal conversations any more. I want to go back to where we were. I happier place. For some reason know it doesn't matter whwere I go some one is crying or weeping. I don't know why but, the taste or even the thought of tears makes me sick know. Tears seem so glamouris don't they. Some people think they can sugar coat them and say, "sometimes you need to have a good cry". But, why? Why do you feel you need a good cry. You end up feeling emotionally drained and you look like shit. You end up wanting to go to sleep and you end up feeling worse then you did before because you can't stop crying. When I start crying I can't stop. I end up crying myself to sleep. I'm sooooo, good at that. Crying myself to sleep! Hhahahaha! I'm so pathetic that way. I end up waking up the next morning not being able to open my eyes because I cryed through my sleep. The one night where I hit my low I cryed my self to sleep, and then I'd wake up and begin to crying. I'd cry in my dreams, and by morning I was still crying. I went to the washroom, and I looked like I jsut gave up. I looked like I had died and I was a walking corpse, sad, pittiful, and full of stale memories. I do that every so often now, cry myself to sleep. It's like having an eating disorder really. I hate it but, I feel like I deserve it. I feel like by doing this to myself I'm saying sorry to all those who I've hurt and deserve some serious compensation. Instead of money, I give tears. I hate that, I'm actually going to publish this. I'm sorry if this pisses you off because it sure as hell pisses my off that I'm writing it.
I think there's something wrong with me. I can't eat. When I do I feel so sick, I feel like I might puke, then when I stop I get soooooo hungry but, when I take a bite out of the food I feel ill. I had a grilled cheese for dinner today, and was starving when I got it but, when I smelt it I almost puked. I forced my self to eat it because if I didn't I wouldn't have slept. It's scary, I don't like any of this. I want to be me again. I feel like someone has robbed my of myslef.... I've robbed myslef of myself. I mean I'm doing it right know. I want me back because I can't stand to live in the skin of this horrible person. Everything crawls inside of me knowing I have to go to school as me. I want to rip myself open and rescue me. I'm going to diw otherwise. I'm going to drown and not be saved because, I'll be fine.
Originally Patience
Thing to do today, open your eyes, and breath in the cold crisp air and open up. Just open up
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