The darkest days of Tiah
I'm feeling much better today. I really am. But I'm reading through my old journals again. I used to be really depressed. I mean, more than you'd think. I thought that, before I destroyed my old journals (symbolic of my need to start over again) I'd write down some of the scariest things I wrote. Things I don't think many of you ever really knew. Many of the entries weren't dated, but if they were, I'll supply a date for you. I'm sure that these were all written in high school, before I got kicked out of dad's house. I'm purposefully picking out the worst of what I was writing down, and only things that don't involve names or anything else overly-personal. Take it as you will, but there is something from almost every entry.
(Undated): "... I think I need to learn to cry again someday. I just don't want to. It's silly and childish. But it's abnormal to not cry. Oh, well. I'm not normal anyway..."
(Undated): "... I feel so broken down inside, like I've died but my body keeps moving..."
(Undated): "I wish I could talk to someone, but I don't know if I could trust anyone..."
(Undated): "... and all I could think about was my blood. How it would look on the church steps in the dark..."
(Undated): "I wonder if it's possible for girls like me to live a normal life when they grow up, or if we're all doomed..."
(8-29-05): "Thursday night. God, why does time go so slowly? I wonder how much longer it'll be before I snap..." (No... I was not talking about shooting up the school or anything)
(Undated): I guess everyone's acting like nothing ever happened again...."
(Undated): "I think I've attached myself to music because I'm afraid of just being quiet... I play music to keep from thinking as much as to make myself feel. Rather, to feel something other than the emptiness that is me. It actually does work sometimes. I need something new to focus my attention on.... Maybe I just need to get away... I just need something.
(Undated): "I wonder why I haven't killed myself yet. I must subconsciously believe I have something to live for. God, I hate this!... How far would someone have to run to escape their past? That question burns itself into the back of my brain and I get restless. I can hardly stand still sometimes. I'm always running, even when I'm just at home. I can hardly ever force myself to face reality anymore... Maybe I'm just living because I'm hoping it gets better. There's really little else to keep going for."
(Undated): "... I'm just not good at anything..."
The funny thing is, that I vaguely remember feeling and thinking these things. It seems like so long ago... It's definitely time to erase that journal and start over. There you have it, the side of me I always said was there. That Tiah doesn't exist anymore.
(Undated): "... I think I need to learn to cry again someday. I just don't want to. It's silly and childish. But it's abnormal to not cry. Oh, well. I'm not normal anyway..."
(Undated): "... I feel so broken down inside, like I've died but my body keeps moving..."
(Undated): "I wish I could talk to someone, but I don't know if I could trust anyone..."
(Undated): "... and all I could think about was my blood. How it would look on the church steps in the dark..."
(Undated): "I wonder if it's possible for girls like me to live a normal life when they grow up, or if we're all doomed..."
(8-29-05): "Thursday night. God, why does time go so slowly? I wonder how much longer it'll be before I snap..." (No... I was not talking about shooting up the school or anything)
(Undated): I guess everyone's acting like nothing ever happened again...."
(Undated): "I think I've attached myself to music because I'm afraid of just being quiet... I play music to keep from thinking as much as to make myself feel. Rather, to feel something other than the emptiness that is me. It actually does work sometimes. I need something new to focus my attention on.... Maybe I just need to get away... I just need something.
(Undated): "I wonder why I haven't killed myself yet. I must subconsciously believe I have something to live for. God, I hate this!... How far would someone have to run to escape their past? That question burns itself into the back of my brain and I get restless. I can hardly stand still sometimes. I'm always running, even when I'm just at home. I can hardly ever force myself to face reality anymore... Maybe I'm just living because I'm hoping it gets better. There's really little else to keep going for."
(Undated): "... I'm just not good at anything..."
The funny thing is, that I vaguely remember feeling and thinking these things. It seems like so long ago... It's definitely time to erase that journal and start over. There you have it, the side of me I always said was there. That Tiah doesn't exist anymore.