life.
well, i figure i need to write about life. just.. in general. cause that's what i do. i write what i see. and what i feel. and just..life.
i don't do well with being told what to write or how to write it. i suppose that's bad when you consider the realities of the profession i plan on going into. everyone has a guidline and a rule book that you have to follow. i don't want to follow. i want to be like e.e. cummings. i don't use proper english, i don't use proper punctuation, and i don't like paragraphs and line breaks where we're told they're
supposed to be. i just don't.
unfortunately, i doubt there is enough artistic license for that. really.
and another thing is... that i wish i could write. about something. interesting or not. nothing i come up with is even remotely worth sharing, and i'm getting incredibly discouraged. it was always something i was so insanely proud of. my writing ability. but i seem to have lost it. along with most of my sanity. these days i feel discouraged about everything. i'm so pessimistic and just.. in a funk.
i finally get a job. it's a good clothing store, i guess. a popular one. they're busy. and they are going to pay me well. i'm either going to be a sales associate, cash register, or fitting room... person. i find out next week. i'm excited.. i mean, god knows i've needed a job SO BADLY cause in the past i couldn't seem to hold onto one to save my life. i've been living off money my mom left to me, and honestly... i'm fucking tired of relying on it. all along it's been bothering me and bothering me, and because i'm sooo good at self-loathing.. i've practically driven myself crazy with the idea of the financial situation i'm in. having no money of my own, and a lot of expenses. my dad told me today that between my car, cell phone, and court fines alone, this month, he has spent $1800 dollars. in one month. on me. how in the entire world am i ever going to be able to number one... swing all that myself and number two... stop costing so much money! because besides that there's my tuition, which is going to be incredibly expensive once i start going to ASU next year, and my rent and bills and just living. there is no possible way in hell.... it's just all so fucking overwhelming.
welcome to the real world, tara. here's your kick in the face.
i know everyone goes through this, but it sucks. and i'm not handling it well.
agh. i just feel like such a fuck up. endlessly.
i tell my room mate that i'm going to be working full time and going to school pretty much full time(with the credit hours it works out that way.. which is strange)
and all she can do is tell me how hard it is and how she doesn't want to be mean, but when i come home every day i don't have anyone. i come home to an empty room, and no one to encourage me and be there for me as a support system.
before i used to have my mom to motivate me, she said. and that she could only do so much.(which is true. she isn't there for me to rely on at all.)
wow, thanks.
way to rub it in my face that i'm incredibly, incredibly alone in this world.
and that i have been. for quite a while.
way to rub it in my face that no one really seems to want to be with me.
and that every attempt i've made has gotten fucked up.
over.
and over.
and over.
again.
i don't need anyone, i told her. and she said, everyone needs someone. even you.
i walked away. cause really, she's right.
i've always been the one who was 'fine.' by themself.
but honestly, these past few months.... i've never had a harder time being alone.
i'm working on it, though. this independent thing.
and just because i like falling asleep next to someone and cuddling and talking and laughing with someone doesn't mean i'm desperate.
i think it means i'm human.
and i just wish... for once...
someone could love me. and think i'm the best. and that no one else could ever compare.
it would be so nice to just be cared about as much as i care about someone.
the only closeness i've found lately is my kyle.
despite stupid things that happened.... he's been the only one there for me. when i tell him things, he encourages me and tells me he's proud of me. when i won't take a compliment, he tells me to shut up and will fight with me endlessly until i do, in fact, agree that i am the most amazing person on the face of the earth. he sends me lyrics to songs that remind him of me, and it makes me smile.
"pretty green eyes.. so full of sparkle and such light. let me remind, that you chose not to cry. it's alrighttt cause by your side i'll always stay. you'll never have to be alone. never ever be alone."
"i've never ever been to paradise. i've never ever seen no angel's eyes. we'll never ever let this magic die. no matter where you are, you are my lucky star."
and sends me goofy pictures just to cheer me up. and i'm so glad i have such an amazing friend. he tells me he's glad he knows me and that he doesn't know what he'd ever do without me. god, it's nice to feel like someone values me and thinks that they're lucky to have me in their life. everyone else just seems to like to take for granted the fact that i'm always there when they need me. but only when it's convenient for them, or when things are going rough. no one ever needs me when they're doing well. it just doesn't happen.
i guess i should consider myself lucky, though. to have someone. even if it's just one person. who when they tell me they love me, i really and truly believe them. cause honestly,
i'm fucked up. i'll be the first to admit it. i was made to feel, ever since i was really really little... that i was unwanted. i was an accident. my dad was leaving my mom and she found out she was pregnant with me and he felt like he was forced to stay in a loveless marraige for 18 years. way to make someone feel loved, i guess.
i drove to ahwatukee last night and went to my elementary school, and my old house, and drove through the foothills. i remembered all the kids who picked on me and made me feel like shit. i remembered all the times when i would try and run away or hide on the playground because i wanted to get my parent's attention and have them be worried about me because otherwise i felt like they didn't care. my dad, mostly. cause he was gone all the time. the only memories i have of him were having to call the police almost every night because he'd come home drunk and hurt my mom. it's horrible, absolutely horrible, when the ONLY memories at all that you have from your childhood are horrible. when i tell people i'm from ahwatukee they say, "oh. rich bitch, huh?" and it's fucking true. it is the reason why i am the way i am. yes, my house just sold for over half a million dollars. both of my old houses have sold for that much. yes, i got EVERYTHING i wanted. but did i ever once feel like i had a stable family, a loving home? no. and my mom... god, my mom. she tried so fucking hard. sooo hard.
but everything in my life leading up to her death... it's hard for me to get over. i only just started even TRYING to get along with my dad. i never forgave him for all the times he hit us, or how he gambled away all of our money, or how he treated my mom when all she ever did was love him. i find myself... in all of these situations... loving others so much, and getting treated like shit, just like my mom. she always told me to never live my life like she did. she regretted all of it. it kills me that she never really felt loved, her whole entire life. by her family, by my dad... and towards the end, by me. i became this really bad person before she passed away. no one really knows except kira, me and my mom. and even kira i'm sure has no idea of what exactly went on. all i know is that it got to the point where she looked me in the eyes and told me that i was going to kill her.
and for so, so long i believed i did. because, as i said before.. i'm soooo amazing at self-loathing.
none of this makes any sense, i'm sure. and sam's really the only one who i'm sure actually reads this thing. and although it's not coherent, i just need to fucking get it out.
because i spilled my guts last night. with one single sentence.
"i think i kind of just blocked the entire thing out."
and that's exactly what i've done. since september. it was all just too fucking much to handle. and someone took me to a rave, and i started doing drugs. and drugs. and more and more and more drugs. til eventually, i didn't know who i was. and the person in the mirror wasn't me. and i did nothing. no school. no work. just drugs. and sleeping off the drugs. and hanging out with people who ended up fucking me over in the worst ways possible. i was insane. absolutely, certifiably... crazy. everyone who saw me in that period of time thought so.. and i've spent a lot of time proving to them, and to myself that i'm really tara now. that she's back. because i felt so far removed from myself for a few months... there was a point where i was so fucked up i didn't even know my own name.
there's not much i can do now. except stop.. and i have been. it's hard. it's always a struggle. cause once you do them.. and you know what they're like.. you want to keep doing them. before i ever touched it.. it was easy to say no.
and no, i'm not as bad as most. and yeah, i rescued myself early. but i still have a huge problem saying no. and i still have a huge problem with running to them to make me feel better, and/or when i get depressed, alone, etc. but i've gotten good at being more responsible, i think. because i was offered some sid last night... and i said no. and i'm glad i said no. because i was SO upset that i had to say no because i had class... that it made it worse.
but the biggest problem, i think....
is that i never express myself anymore. whatever emotion i'm feeling... it just automatically turns into anger. anger towards others... but more just anger at myself.
i can't cry. i can't hurt. i can't even feel pain.
do you know, i didn't even feel my piercing? i didn't even know he had the fucking needle through my lip til he told me.
how scary is that? to be so numb as to not even feel pain anymore?
how fucked up and emotionally damaged does someone have to become for them to not feel it? at all? i wonder. cause that's me.
there's about one person that i really opened up to like this. just one. he is very much the same way i am. but, he's addicted to xanax and every other anti anxiety, anti depression, and pain pill out there. he pegged me the very first conversation we had. he honest to god guessed everything in my life because i said i was an only child. he guessed where i grew up, what my parents were like, what car i drove, and that i probably didn't pay for my own rent. and that bothered me more than anything in the entire world. that i am, in all reality, peg-able.
i never want to be pegged again.
and in explaining our lives to eachother... he turned to me and asked me how i was even still functioning. everyone is always sooooo suprised that tara's still functioning normally. that i'm living life. that i'm not dead somewhere. that i'm not on tons and tons of medication for this and that.
and frankly, i'm suprised too. when asked how i did it.. i don't know. i will never know.
but i have an idea.
i've become numb.
and if this is the case... i'm like a fucking ticking time bomb.
just waiting for the string to run out before i burst.
into a million pieces.
i can't cry.
i can never, ever cry.
and now i finally understand what my dear friend said when he explained how much pain he would have to put himself through to just.... feel something. for an instant. thinking back on that night and morning... just holding him as he cried and drifted in and out of consciousness... trying to fix what was so broken with some band aid i pulled out of my back pocket... there was no band aid. and i could never ever give someone enough of what they need. because no one can do that.
no one but ourselves.
and me, myself... i have just about nothing to give anymore.
i don't do well with being told what to write or how to write it. i suppose that's bad when you consider the realities of the profession i plan on going into. everyone has a guidline and a rule book that you have to follow. i don't want to follow. i want to be like e.e. cummings. i don't use proper english, i don't use proper punctuation, and i don't like paragraphs and line breaks where we're told they're
supposed to be. i just don't.
unfortunately, i doubt there is enough artistic license for that. really.
and another thing is... that i wish i could write. about something. interesting or not. nothing i come up with is even remotely worth sharing, and i'm getting incredibly discouraged. it was always something i was so insanely proud of. my writing ability. but i seem to have lost it. along with most of my sanity. these days i feel discouraged about everything. i'm so pessimistic and just.. in a funk.
i finally get a job. it's a good clothing store, i guess. a popular one. they're busy. and they are going to pay me well. i'm either going to be a sales associate, cash register, or fitting room... person. i find out next week. i'm excited.. i mean, god knows i've needed a job SO BADLY cause in the past i couldn't seem to hold onto one to save my life. i've been living off money my mom left to me, and honestly... i'm fucking tired of relying on it. all along it's been bothering me and bothering me, and because i'm sooo good at self-loathing.. i've practically driven myself crazy with the idea of the financial situation i'm in. having no money of my own, and a lot of expenses. my dad told me today that between my car, cell phone, and court fines alone, this month, he has spent $1800 dollars. in one month. on me. how in the entire world am i ever going to be able to number one... swing all that myself and number two... stop costing so much money! because besides that there's my tuition, which is going to be incredibly expensive once i start going to ASU next year, and my rent and bills and just living. there is no possible way in hell.... it's just all so fucking overwhelming.
welcome to the real world, tara. here's your kick in the face.
i know everyone goes through this, but it sucks. and i'm not handling it well.
agh. i just feel like such a fuck up. endlessly.
i tell my room mate that i'm going to be working full time and going to school pretty much full time(with the credit hours it works out that way.. which is strange)
and all she can do is tell me how hard it is and how she doesn't want to be mean, but when i come home every day i don't have anyone. i come home to an empty room, and no one to encourage me and be there for me as a support system.
before i used to have my mom to motivate me, she said. and that she could only do so much.(which is true. she isn't there for me to rely on at all.)
wow, thanks.
way to rub it in my face that i'm incredibly, incredibly alone in this world.
and that i have been. for quite a while.
way to rub it in my face that no one really seems to want to be with me.
and that every attempt i've made has gotten fucked up.
over.
and over.
and over.
again.
i don't need anyone, i told her. and she said, everyone needs someone. even you.
i walked away. cause really, she's right.
i've always been the one who was 'fine.' by themself.
but honestly, these past few months.... i've never had a harder time being alone.
i'm working on it, though. this independent thing.
and just because i like falling asleep next to someone and cuddling and talking and laughing with someone doesn't mean i'm desperate.
i think it means i'm human.
and i just wish... for once...
someone could love me. and think i'm the best. and that no one else could ever compare.
it would be so nice to just be cared about as much as i care about someone.
the only closeness i've found lately is my kyle.
despite stupid things that happened.... he's been the only one there for me. when i tell him things, he encourages me and tells me he's proud of me. when i won't take a compliment, he tells me to shut up and will fight with me endlessly until i do, in fact, agree that i am the most amazing person on the face of the earth. he sends me lyrics to songs that remind him of me, and it makes me smile.
"pretty green eyes.. so full of sparkle and such light. let me remind, that you chose not to cry. it's alrighttt cause by your side i'll always stay. you'll never have to be alone. never ever be alone."
"i've never ever been to paradise. i've never ever seen no angel's eyes. we'll never ever let this magic die. no matter where you are, you are my lucky star."
and sends me goofy pictures just to cheer me up. and i'm so glad i have such an amazing friend. he tells me he's glad he knows me and that he doesn't know what he'd ever do without me. god, it's nice to feel like someone values me and thinks that they're lucky to have me in their life. everyone else just seems to like to take for granted the fact that i'm always there when they need me. but only when it's convenient for them, or when things are going rough. no one ever needs me when they're doing well. it just doesn't happen.
i guess i should consider myself lucky, though. to have someone. even if it's just one person. who when they tell me they love me, i really and truly believe them. cause honestly,
i'm fucked up. i'll be the first to admit it. i was made to feel, ever since i was really really little... that i was unwanted. i was an accident. my dad was leaving my mom and she found out she was pregnant with me and he felt like he was forced to stay in a loveless marraige for 18 years. way to make someone feel loved, i guess.
i drove to ahwatukee last night and went to my elementary school, and my old house, and drove through the foothills. i remembered all the kids who picked on me and made me feel like shit. i remembered all the times when i would try and run away or hide on the playground because i wanted to get my parent's attention and have them be worried about me because otherwise i felt like they didn't care. my dad, mostly. cause he was gone all the time. the only memories i have of him were having to call the police almost every night because he'd come home drunk and hurt my mom. it's horrible, absolutely horrible, when the ONLY memories at all that you have from your childhood are horrible. when i tell people i'm from ahwatukee they say, "oh. rich bitch, huh?" and it's fucking true. it is the reason why i am the way i am. yes, my house just sold for over half a million dollars. both of my old houses have sold for that much. yes, i got EVERYTHING i wanted. but did i ever once feel like i had a stable family, a loving home? no. and my mom... god, my mom. she tried so fucking hard. sooo hard.
but everything in my life leading up to her death... it's hard for me to get over. i only just started even TRYING to get along with my dad. i never forgave him for all the times he hit us, or how he gambled away all of our money, or how he treated my mom when all she ever did was love him. i find myself... in all of these situations... loving others so much, and getting treated like shit, just like my mom. she always told me to never live my life like she did. she regretted all of it. it kills me that she never really felt loved, her whole entire life. by her family, by my dad... and towards the end, by me. i became this really bad person before she passed away. no one really knows except kira, me and my mom. and even kira i'm sure has no idea of what exactly went on. all i know is that it got to the point where she looked me in the eyes and told me that i was going to kill her.
and for so, so long i believed i did. because, as i said before.. i'm soooo amazing at self-loathing.
none of this makes any sense, i'm sure. and sam's really the only one who i'm sure actually reads this thing. and although it's not coherent, i just need to fucking get it out.
because i spilled my guts last night. with one single sentence.
"i think i kind of just blocked the entire thing out."
and that's exactly what i've done. since september. it was all just too fucking much to handle. and someone took me to a rave, and i started doing drugs. and drugs. and more and more and more drugs. til eventually, i didn't know who i was. and the person in the mirror wasn't me. and i did nothing. no school. no work. just drugs. and sleeping off the drugs. and hanging out with people who ended up fucking me over in the worst ways possible. i was insane. absolutely, certifiably... crazy. everyone who saw me in that period of time thought so.. and i've spent a lot of time proving to them, and to myself that i'm really tara now. that she's back. because i felt so far removed from myself for a few months... there was a point where i was so fucked up i didn't even know my own name.
there's not much i can do now. except stop.. and i have been. it's hard. it's always a struggle. cause once you do them.. and you know what they're like.. you want to keep doing them. before i ever touched it.. it was easy to say no.
and no, i'm not as bad as most. and yeah, i rescued myself early. but i still have a huge problem saying no. and i still have a huge problem with running to them to make me feel better, and/or when i get depressed, alone, etc. but i've gotten good at being more responsible, i think. because i was offered some sid last night... and i said no. and i'm glad i said no. because i was SO upset that i had to say no because i had class... that it made it worse.
but the biggest problem, i think....
is that i never express myself anymore. whatever emotion i'm feeling... it just automatically turns into anger. anger towards others... but more just anger at myself.
i can't cry. i can't hurt. i can't even feel pain.
do you know, i didn't even feel my piercing? i didn't even know he had the fucking needle through my lip til he told me.
how scary is that? to be so numb as to not even feel pain anymore?
how fucked up and emotionally damaged does someone have to become for them to not feel it? at all? i wonder. cause that's me.
there's about one person that i really opened up to like this. just one. he is very much the same way i am. but, he's addicted to xanax and every other anti anxiety, anti depression, and pain pill out there. he pegged me the very first conversation we had. he honest to god guessed everything in my life because i said i was an only child. he guessed where i grew up, what my parents were like, what car i drove, and that i probably didn't pay for my own rent. and that bothered me more than anything in the entire world. that i am, in all reality, peg-able.
i never want to be pegged again.
and in explaining our lives to eachother... he turned to me and asked me how i was even still functioning. everyone is always sooooo suprised that tara's still functioning normally. that i'm living life. that i'm not dead somewhere. that i'm not on tons and tons of medication for this and that.
and frankly, i'm suprised too. when asked how i did it.. i don't know. i will never know.
but i have an idea.
i've become numb.
and if this is the case... i'm like a fucking ticking time bomb.
just waiting for the string to run out before i burst.
into a million pieces.
i can't cry.
i can never, ever cry.
and now i finally understand what my dear friend said when he explained how much pain he would have to put himself through to just.... feel something. for an instant. thinking back on that night and morning... just holding him as he cried and drifted in and out of consciousness... trying to fix what was so broken with some band aid i pulled out of my back pocket... there was no band aid. and i could never ever give someone enough of what they need. because no one can do that.
no one but ourselves.
and me, myself... i have just about nothing to give anymore.