I have been in a really weird mood lately, and I have no idea why. There was that whole emotional/personal/awkwardly intimate rant that I posted prior to this one, and now I'm listening to rap? By Eminem? Not to mention the whole Katy Perry/Christina Perri phase I went through a few days ago. :O
I have always defined my music tastes as: anything but rap or country music.
Now I guess it's just anything that's not too vulgar or country music.
Blahhh.
Evidently GCSEs are starting to stress me out.
Saturday 21 April 2012
Friday 20 April 2012
Depression/Frustration/FirstSeriousMonologue
Am I depressed? I don't know. Possibly. Possibly not. I'm disinclined to diagnose myself, when I know full well how biased I am (and obviously. Who wouldn't be?) towards myself.
However, it can be difficult. Life is difficult. It's full of ups and downs, and sometimes the downs are steeper than the ups, and sometimes the ups are too slight to notice. And when this is the case, it can be so, so hard to continue being happy and hopeful and, well, not-depressed.
And I've been suicidal, too. I've wanted to kill myself.
That's really a difficult thing to say. I've never written that anywhere before. I don't think I have. Not where other people can see me.
I think the first time I consciously wanted to do so was when I was seven, when I first realised what dying really meant. I'd felt curious at the time- I wanted to see what it was like. To me, it sounded like something to be explored, something interesting and new, even if it was so very, very final.
I feel as if I'm confessing something. It's not a crime, and to be honest, then, it was mostly the curiosity (albeit dangerous) of a small child. But I did also know what it meant - and I thought it sounded nicer than where I was then.
And that stayed with me, for nine years of my life. That's both impressive and sad, I think.
I don't know why, but when I was ten, I think I tried to hang myself with a skipping rope. That's... actually really creepy. My younger self was really, really scary. What's more frightening is that it wasn't out of desperation or a bid for attention or even a desire to actually die. It was just... boredom. I wanted to see if I could actually do it. And then my friend came in and I stopped, because I really didn't want to have deal with the questions of why I was standing on a bucket with a skipping rope round my neck.
Thanks, Isa, however unintentional it was :/
And it was the same with the whole self-harm-y/slashing-with-a-knife business that started when I was twelve. Though that wasn't suicidal or being curious, that was me being desperate and taking things out on myself to get rid of the awful feelings :(
I don't regret it. I still have scars, but I don't regret it. I never did. It felt easy and better at the time, and it did help. And they were just surface wounds - nothing too damaging. I sound as if I'm trying to justify myself now - probably because I know people who I know are going to read this and I don't actually know if they'd known. Eep, that's going to be awkward :/
I think that what's slightly shocking, though, is the fact that people saw. People saw it, they saw all of them, and they didn't even raise an eyebrow. Is that normal?
Hell, even my parents saw, and they wrote it off as being an attention-seeker, which is actually kind of painful, to be honest. Who would go that far just for a bit of attention? Is that what everyone thinks when they see scars and cuts that were so obviously self-inflicted? It was just for attention? Parents?
I don't get humans.
Yeah, I know, I am human, but when I see that kind of thing (yes, when; I've seen a lot of messed up people, at least, I have for an urban middle-class sixteen-year-old,) I've never written it off as attention seeking. I've never thought: Hey, they're obviously hurting themselves. Ah, never mind, I'm sure it's not that important, or, What a stupid fuck. They're obviously cutting themselves for attention. Idiot. I have never, ever pushed it to the back of my mind and thought it irrelevant. Why do people do that? I do not understand it. I've always tried to help, though I back off when pushed away, but when that happens, there's not much else one can do, apart from let them know that you're there for them.
It's always so sad.
And frustrating. There aren't enough people who genuinely help. Caring is irrelevant, it's whether they help or not. Though actually caring usually does play a large part of helping.
But some people don't really need people to care, or to help. With some people, it's just a matter of pushing onwards and moving forwards, and running with the pressure as opposed to resisting it.With those people, there's nothing, I don't think, that anyone else can do - the fixing is always up to them alone.
I don't do it anymore. I haven't... cut myself, I suppose (I've never really thought of it as that) since around this time last year. That's the longest I've gone since I first started, so kudos to me, yeah? :)
I haven't thought seriously about killing myself in months, as well. Since... early November-ish. It's getting better. :)
I feel like something off The Trevor Project. (You know, the ad-things, like the clip that Chris Colfer (love that man) posted about things being difficult getting better).
I think things do get better. You just need the right moments - like the right songs, or those perfect snapshot moments where you're laughing and you don't think it's possible for things to be better than they already are, the right jokes and the right memories, those moments where you feel like you've finally succeeded and it's as if you're standing on top of the world.
I know that it doesn't get better for some people. But there's the potential. And that's the most important thing, right? The potential- to improve, to heal, to laugh, to get better. If there's potential then there's hope, and if you have hope you're already halfway there, aren't you?
I want to help people. I want to give them what I'm gaining, I want other people to be happy and alive. It's lovely to see people smile. :)
Smile :) x
However, it can be difficult. Life is difficult. It's full of ups and downs, and sometimes the downs are steeper than the ups, and sometimes the ups are too slight to notice. And when this is the case, it can be so, so hard to continue being happy and hopeful and, well, not-depressed.
And I've been suicidal, too. I've wanted to kill myself.
That's really a difficult thing to say. I've never written that anywhere before. I don't think I have. Not where other people can see me.
I think the first time I consciously wanted to do so was when I was seven, when I first realised what dying really meant. I'd felt curious at the time- I wanted to see what it was like. To me, it sounded like something to be explored, something interesting and new, even if it was so very, very final.
I feel as if I'm confessing something. It's not a crime, and to be honest, then, it was mostly the curiosity (albeit dangerous) of a small child. But I did also know what it meant - and I thought it sounded nicer than where I was then.
And that stayed with me, for nine years of my life. That's both impressive and sad, I think.
I don't know why, but when I was ten, I think I tried to hang myself with a skipping rope. That's... actually really creepy. My younger self was really, really scary. What's more frightening is that it wasn't out of desperation or a bid for attention or even a desire to actually die. It was just... boredom. I wanted to see if I could actually do it. And then my friend came in and I stopped, because I really didn't want to have deal with the questions of why I was standing on a bucket with a skipping rope round my neck.
Thanks, Isa, however unintentional it was :/
And it was the same with the whole self-harm-y/slashing-with-a-knife business that started when I was twelve. Though that wasn't suicidal or being curious, that was me being desperate and taking things out on myself to get rid of the awful feelings :(
I don't regret it. I still have scars, but I don't regret it. I never did. It felt easy and better at the time, and it did help. And they were just surface wounds - nothing too damaging. I sound as if I'm trying to justify myself now - probably because I know people who I know are going to read this and I don't actually know if they'd known. Eep, that's going to be awkward :/
I think that what's slightly shocking, though, is the fact that people saw. People saw it, they saw all of them, and they didn't even raise an eyebrow. Is that normal?
Hell, even my parents saw, and they wrote it off as being an attention-seeker, which is actually kind of painful, to be honest. Who would go that far just for a bit of attention? Is that what everyone thinks when they see scars and cuts that were so obviously self-inflicted? It was just for attention? Parents?
I don't get humans.
Yeah, I know, I am human, but when I see that kind of thing (yes, when; I've seen a lot of messed up people, at least, I have for an urban middle-class sixteen-year-old,) I've never written it off as attention seeking. I've never thought: Hey, they're obviously hurting themselves. Ah, never mind, I'm sure it's not that important, or, What a stupid fuck. They're obviously cutting themselves for attention. Idiot. I have never, ever pushed it to the back of my mind and thought it irrelevant. Why do people do that? I do not understand it. I've always tried to help, though I back off when pushed away, but when that happens, there's not much else one can do, apart from let them know that you're there for them.
It's always so sad.
And frustrating. There aren't enough people who genuinely help. Caring is irrelevant, it's whether they help or not. Though actually caring usually does play a large part of helping.
But some people don't really need people to care, or to help. With some people, it's just a matter of pushing onwards and moving forwards, and running with the pressure as opposed to resisting it.With those people, there's nothing, I don't think, that anyone else can do - the fixing is always up to them alone.
I don't do it anymore. I haven't... cut myself, I suppose (I've never really thought of it as that) since around this time last year. That's the longest I've gone since I first started, so kudos to me, yeah? :)
I haven't thought seriously about killing myself in months, as well. Since... early November-ish. It's getting better. :)
I feel like something off The Trevor Project. (You know, the ad-things, like the clip that Chris Colfer (love that man) posted about things being difficult getting better).
I think things do get better. You just need the right moments - like the right songs, or those perfect snapshot moments where you're laughing and you don't think it's possible for things to be better than they already are, the right jokes and the right memories, those moments where you feel like you've finally succeeded and it's as if you're standing on top of the world.
I know that it doesn't get better for some people. But there's the potential. And that's the most important thing, right? The potential- to improve, to heal, to laugh, to get better. If there's potential then there's hope, and if you have hope you're already halfway there, aren't you?
I want to help people. I want to give them what I'm gaining, I want other people to be happy and alive. It's lovely to see people smile. :)
Smile :) x
Thursday 12 April 2012
Yay! Mid-Teenage Crises!
I'm bisexual. I'm quite happy about this - for some reason it makes me feel as if I've accomplished something. I have no idea why.
It's curious, being bi. I feel as if whenever I walk down the street, I'm looking at everyone I see - looking to see if they're attractive or not, and if they are, looking to see if I 'would' or not - i.e. if they're within my age range. :)
It's not meant to be perverted. Just a subconscious thing, and sometimes I feel bad about it. As if my constant 'checking out' is almost a harassment of sorts. It's worse, though, at school. I go to an all girls school, and to be honest, it's just weird looking at any of them in even a remotely sexual way. They're my friends. And if they're not my friends, they're people I find obnoxious or childish or just plain irritating. But more importantly - they're straight.
Well, about 90% of them are. And the ten per cent that aren't are kind of intimidating. Or I just don't like them. :P Yeah, I dislike a lot of people.
So it's weird to even think about thinking of anyone at my school in a vaguely sexual way. Though there is one girl who I'm fairly sure I'm actually in love with, but as Yossarian of 'Catch-22' does, I think that I fall in love with nearly everyone I meet. Though the only difference with this girl is that I've stayed in love with her. Possibly because I usually just admire her from afar... but still. Although, now I think about it, I don't think about her in a sexual way either.
I didn't think about my first (and only) boyfriend sexually either. I don't think I've ever thought about anyone sexually. Apart from maybe when I was seven and I had this massive crush on this one guy and I kept on kissing him. But I was seven!
How is it that I was more sexual at seven than at sixteen?
Eww. The thought of sex (or kissing, or blowjobs, or handjobs), are kind of just repulsive. Sex is a bit gross... isn't it? It's like... This guy secretes some weird fluid (that contains about a trillion different babies) into your private girl-bits, and then if you're lucky you get to secrete some equally icky fluid (but this time it doesn't contain a trillion different lives.)
And it's really personal. Like, they get seriously in your personal bubble. I don't know if I could deal with that :/ There would have to be some serious trust going on before I let anyone press their naked body up against my naked body? Or even just let their tongue into my mouth. Eww... someone else's saliva IN my mouth? It would stay there for two weeks! I'd have someone else's saliva in my system for two weeks!
Excuse me while I retch :/
But it's weird. Nearly everyone I know has had some sort of sexual thought about someone else- whether it's Ian Somerhalder or the boy next door or even the girl next door. Their sexual experience is irrelevant; the fact remains that almost everyone I know has wanted someone.
Does that make me weird, or a slow developer? Or am I just asexual? Hell, I could be biromantic (a silly word for someone who can love any gender or type, but not sexually)
Crap. I can't have a mid-teenage crisis on a blog!
I oughtn't to be having a mid-teenage crisis full-stop.
Bah. Take it as it comes, right? For now, I'm sticking with bisexuality :)
Peace, my babies,
x
It's curious, being bi. I feel as if whenever I walk down the street, I'm looking at everyone I see - looking to see if they're attractive or not, and if they are, looking to see if I 'would' or not - i.e. if they're within my age range. :)
It's not meant to be perverted. Just a subconscious thing, and sometimes I feel bad about it. As if my constant 'checking out' is almost a harassment of sorts. It's worse, though, at school. I go to an all girls school, and to be honest, it's just weird looking at any of them in even a remotely sexual way. They're my friends. And if they're not my friends, they're people I find obnoxious or childish or just plain irritating. But more importantly - they're straight.
Well, about 90% of them are. And the ten per cent that aren't are kind of intimidating. Or I just don't like them. :P Yeah, I dislike a lot of people.
So it's weird to even think about thinking of anyone at my school in a vaguely sexual way. Though there is one girl who I'm fairly sure I'm actually in love with, but as Yossarian of 'Catch-22' does, I think that I fall in love with nearly everyone I meet. Though the only difference with this girl is that I've stayed in love with her. Possibly because I usually just admire her from afar... but still. Although, now I think about it, I don't think about her in a sexual way either.
I didn't think about my first (and only) boyfriend sexually either. I don't think I've ever thought about anyone sexually. Apart from maybe when I was seven and I had this massive crush on this one guy and I kept on kissing him. But I was seven!
How is it that I was more sexual at seven than at sixteen?
Eww. The thought of sex (or kissing, or blowjobs, or handjobs), are kind of just repulsive. Sex is a bit gross... isn't it? It's like... This guy secretes some weird fluid (that contains about a trillion different babies) into your private girl-bits, and then if you're lucky you get to secrete some equally icky fluid (but this time it doesn't contain a trillion different lives.)
And it's really personal. Like, they get seriously in your personal bubble. I don't know if I could deal with that :/ There would have to be some serious trust going on before I let anyone press their naked body up against my naked body? Or even just let their tongue into my mouth. Eww... someone else's saliva IN my mouth? It would stay there for two weeks! I'd have someone else's saliva in my system for two weeks!
Excuse me while I retch :/
But it's weird. Nearly everyone I know has had some sort of sexual thought about someone else- whether it's Ian Somerhalder or the boy next door or even the girl next door. Their sexual experience is irrelevant; the fact remains that almost everyone I know has wanted someone.
Does that make me weird, or a slow developer? Or am I just asexual? Hell, I could be biromantic (a silly word for someone who can love any gender or type, but not sexually)
Crap. I can't have a mid-teenage crisis on a blog!
I oughtn't to be having a mid-teenage crisis full-stop.
Bah. Take it as it comes, right? For now, I'm sticking with bisexuality :)
Peace, my babies,
x
Tuesday 10 April 2012
We Haz Much Frustration.
It's SO
GODDAMN
BORING
I AM WASTING MY LIFE.
I SHOULD BE PARTYING AND LIVING IT UP RIGHT NOW
I SHOULD BE GETTING HIGH AND GETTING DRUNK AND GETTING LAID (and possibly cancer, STDs and pregnant, but it's the thought that counts) AND HAVING FUN
AND GOING TO PARIS JUST BECAUSE
AND BUYING PRETTY THINGS
AND PUTTING FEATHERS IN MY HAIR JUST FOR FUCK'S SAKE
BUT INSTEAD I'M WASTING MY LIFE ON FUCKING GCSEs WHICH ARE SO FUCKING USELESS
RAWRRRRRR
In the summer,
I'm going to go to Brighton and Devon and the beach
And I'm going to thread feathers and beads into my hair
And I'm going to wear red eyeliner just to mix things up a bit
And people are going to end up crossing the street just to get away from the weirdo in bright yellow tights and red eyeliner and feathered hair,
And I'm going to be fucking awesome.
And I'm going to write a psycho thriller play, just for the fuck of it.
(Because that's what all wannabe try-hard hipsters do nowadays ^_^)
So yeah.
That's my summer.
What's yours?
GODDAMN
BORING
I AM WASTING MY LIFE.
I SHOULD BE PARTYING AND LIVING IT UP RIGHT NOW
I SHOULD BE GETTING HIGH AND GETTING DRUNK AND GETTING LAID (and possibly cancer, STDs and pregnant, but it's the thought that counts) AND HAVING FUN
AND GOING TO PARIS JUST BECAUSE
AND BUYING PRETTY THINGS
AND PUTTING FEATHERS IN MY HAIR JUST FOR FUCK'S SAKE
BUT INSTEAD I'M WASTING MY LIFE ON FUCKING GCSEs WHICH ARE SO FUCKING USELESS
RAWRRRRRR
In the summer,
I'm going to go to Brighton and Devon and the beach
And I'm going to thread feathers and beads into my hair
And I'm going to wear red eyeliner just to mix things up a bit
And people are going to end up crossing the street just to get away from the weirdo in bright yellow tights and red eyeliner and feathered hair,
And I'm going to be fucking awesome.
And I'm going to write a psycho thriller play, just for the fuck of it.
(Because that's what all wannabe try-hard hipsters do nowadays ^_^)
So yeah.
That's my summer.
What's yours?
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