Hello
There a couple of reasons I've started this journal:
1) I always switch from writing my thoughts down in a notebook to typing them up in Word.
2) I need a place where I know my thoughts will be organized and dept together so I can come back and review on my past emotions.
3) I like exercising my writing abilities even when I'm not in my preferred state of mind.
I wrote the following on 2/28/05:
I'm on the toitlet right now. But not just any toilet. I'm on the "special" toilet. This toilet wasn't meant for me. I don't need this much space to shit. But its the farthest stall from the door, so I chose it. I can't go to the ER room. I won't focus on anything Kim, the RN, has to say. I'm at NE Hospital. Why? I have this class called HST II (Health Science Technology II). We go out on clinical rotations and visit different areas of the hospital every 2wks. to get a broader and wider view of working in a hospital. But I'll talk about my classes & crap later. I'm still on the toilet, and I'm still shiting. <- Is that even a word? I wish I could explain everything in my life, why I do the things I do, think the things I do, and feel the things I feel, but that'll just take too damn long.
I have emotional & anxiety problems. I was depressed for 2yrs. of my life. It was an on & off thing, but mostly on. Highschool isn't great for me, especially 9th & 10 th grade. I had a smile on my face, not cause I was happy, but because it was the only way to cover up how I truly felt. I practically made my smile permanently stuck on my face. I didn't know what was going on with me. A lot of things happened that year:I got all A's & B's, got asked out by a guy in French class, had nice friends, found the music that complemented my soul-ROCK, [some lady just let out a big one, it was HILARIOUS...she let out another one!!!111!!11!1 THX, lady for making my minute, cuz that certainly does NOT make my day. It stinks like horse shit in here now...ew...] and became a woman (I'm Catholic & Hispanic so @ 15, a girl is considered a woman...maybe that's why my ppls are shooting out babies like the world was gonna end...) 10th grade year was very, very, very interesting and eventfull. Those were my darker days, literally. I wore a bunch of black, not because I was into the whole "GOTH" scence but because the color wasn't bright & exuberant, which was the total opposite of my feelings...but Black was dull and just there, like me. That year was the first time I cut myself, failed classes, smoked cigarettes, took drugs, drank alcohol (not really first time), went to summer skool, kept a video tape journal, and that year I found out that I had a problem. I found out I was depressed. That year I found out, on my own, that I had OCD (Obesessive-Compulsive Disorder) when I was younger. No one ever knew what was in my head except for me. I was dealing with it, by myself. My parents never noticed anything. Was it because I taught myself to count while talking to them and othes? Was it because I had already became an expert in covering up my true feelings? Or was it because they didn't want to see it? When I was around 9 or 10 I found a book that I found in my house, which changed my life forever. In the book, a girl had given up her soul to the Devil, voluntarily. She did that so she could live forever and enjoy life with as many men as possible. After I had read it, I was extremely scared that I would give up my soul to the Devil, w/o knowing it. I was terrified at the thought of my sould belonging to the Devil. It used to take my an hour to go asleep. And during that hour I would lay in my bed, eyes fully awake and crying. Crying because I was afraid. Afraid because the Devil was near. Afraid because I was going to give myself to him. Afraid because I was going to die. Many nights I was afraid that I wouldn't wake up the following morning. I would cry & sob hard into my pillow. I basically cried myself to sleep, every night, for over a year. I did try to tell my mom about it one day, but all that did was get my aunt over to our house and she rubbed me w/an egg while whispering a prayer (religious remedy). Then, I thought it would work...all I wanted was for my evil thoughts to go away. Now, I think it was stupid. It just left me w/a false sense of security & hope. I can remember being at an Anniversary celebration one day when I was about 10 or 11. I remember a lot of ppl being there, dancing, talking, and having fun. But I was sitting alone at a long table. All my feeling of fear swept over me, forcing me into solitude fro the rest of the evening. I just sat there...counting. I can't remember which # I chose to save me for that day, but I can remember sitting by myself, staring at the table cloth, crying silently, and counting. "Just count to __ and everything will be fine. Just count to __ and you won't die." I repeated those things to myself everytime to calm myself down. The reason I left the # blank is because I always counted to different #. I would start feeling scared and sort of panicky, so I would just chose a random # and count up to it, starting form 0...over & over again. I had another fear: I was afraid of microwaves. You know how microwaves have 3 bleep things? Well, one random day I was suddenly scared of letting the microwave beep 3x's. This was my state of mind: "If the microwave gets to the last beep, you'll die." So whenver I used the micro, I had to stand there while my food heated and opened it before it got to the last beep. 'Then why just NOT use the microwave?' Maybe because this ties into another one of my problems. I like to make things harder for myself. I mean, EVERYTHING. Whether its cooking dinner, relationships, school, or completeing simple tasks like laundry or taking out the trash. I just never look at the simple solutions. I make everthing a burder for me. Well, I eventually got over my case of OCD. How? By forcing it out of my head. I just slowly & steadily pushed those thoughts away from my head & heart. Some may call it repressing feeling-which is not good, I know- but it worked. It wasn't until Feb. of last year that I realized what I had went through was OCD.
I know I've been going off topic a whole lot, but I do that even when I'm talking or trying to think collectively. Sometimes like in this journal, I reiterate back to things I touched on or talked about already. Mainly because everything ties in together. My life and train of thought is like a big circle. Every problem that comes up in my life, turns into its own lil cycle. I think that's enought for now...later.
-ezily_bruzd
1) I always switch from writing my thoughts down in a notebook to typing them up in Word.
2) I need a place where I know my thoughts will be organized and dept together so I can come back and review on my past emotions.
3) I like exercising my writing abilities even when I'm not in my preferred state of mind.
I wrote the following on 2/28/05:
I'm on the toitlet right now. But not just any toilet. I'm on the "special" toilet. This toilet wasn't meant for me. I don't need this much space to shit. But its the farthest stall from the door, so I chose it. I can't go to the ER room. I won't focus on anything Kim, the RN, has to say. I'm at NE Hospital. Why? I have this class called HST II (Health Science Technology II). We go out on clinical rotations and visit different areas of the hospital every 2wks. to get a broader and wider view of working in a hospital. But I'll talk about my classes & crap later. I'm still on the toilet, and I'm still shiting. <- Is that even a word? I wish I could explain everything in my life, why I do the things I do, think the things I do, and feel the things I feel, but that'll just take too damn long.
I have emotional & anxiety problems. I was depressed for 2yrs. of my life. It was an on & off thing, but mostly on. Highschool isn't great for me, especially 9th & 10 th grade. I had a smile on my face, not cause I was happy, but because it was the only way to cover up how I truly felt. I practically made my smile permanently stuck on my face. I didn't know what was going on with me. A lot of things happened that year:I got all A's & B's, got asked out by a guy in French class, had nice friends, found the music that complemented my soul-ROCK, [some lady just let out a big one, it was HILARIOUS...she let out another one!!!111!!11!1 THX, lady for making my minute, cuz that certainly does NOT make my day. It stinks like horse shit in here now...ew...] and became a woman (I'm Catholic & Hispanic so @ 15, a girl is considered a woman...maybe that's why my ppls are shooting out babies like the world was gonna end...) 10th grade year was very, very, very interesting and eventfull. Those were my darker days, literally. I wore a bunch of black, not because I was into the whole "GOTH" scence but because the color wasn't bright & exuberant, which was the total opposite of my feelings...but Black was dull and just there, like me. That year was the first time I cut myself, failed classes, smoked cigarettes, took drugs, drank alcohol (not really first time), went to summer skool, kept a video tape journal, and that year I found out that I had a problem. I found out I was depressed. That year I found out, on my own, that I had OCD (Obesessive-Compulsive Disorder) when I was younger. No one ever knew what was in my head except for me. I was dealing with it, by myself. My parents never noticed anything. Was it because I taught myself to count while talking to them and othes? Was it because I had already became an expert in covering up my true feelings? Or was it because they didn't want to see it? When I was around 9 or 10 I found a book that I found in my house, which changed my life forever. In the book, a girl had given up her soul to the Devil, voluntarily. She did that so she could live forever and enjoy life with as many men as possible. After I had read it, I was extremely scared that I would give up my soul to the Devil, w/o knowing it. I was terrified at the thought of my sould belonging to the Devil. It used to take my an hour to go asleep. And during that hour I would lay in my bed, eyes fully awake and crying. Crying because I was afraid. Afraid because the Devil was near. Afraid because I was going to give myself to him. Afraid because I was going to die. Many nights I was afraid that I wouldn't wake up the following morning. I would cry & sob hard into my pillow. I basically cried myself to sleep, every night, for over a year. I did try to tell my mom about it one day, but all that did was get my aunt over to our house and she rubbed me w/an egg while whispering a prayer (religious remedy). Then, I thought it would work...all I wanted was for my evil thoughts to go away. Now, I think it was stupid. It just left me w/a false sense of security & hope. I can remember being at an Anniversary celebration one day when I was about 10 or 11. I remember a lot of ppl being there, dancing, talking, and having fun. But I was sitting alone at a long table. All my feeling of fear swept over me, forcing me into solitude fro the rest of the evening. I just sat there...counting. I can't remember which # I chose to save me for that day, but I can remember sitting by myself, staring at the table cloth, crying silently, and counting. "Just count to __ and everything will be fine. Just count to __ and you won't die." I repeated those things to myself everytime to calm myself down. The reason I left the # blank is because I always counted to different #. I would start feeling scared and sort of panicky, so I would just chose a random # and count up to it, starting form 0...over & over again. I had another fear: I was afraid of microwaves. You know how microwaves have 3 bleep things? Well, one random day I was suddenly scared of letting the microwave beep 3x's. This was my state of mind: "If the microwave gets to the last beep, you'll die." So whenver I used the micro, I had to stand there while my food heated and opened it before it got to the last beep. 'Then why just NOT use the microwave?' Maybe because this ties into another one of my problems. I like to make things harder for myself. I mean, EVERYTHING. Whether its cooking dinner, relationships, school, or completeing simple tasks like laundry or taking out the trash. I just never look at the simple solutions. I make everthing a burder for me. Well, I eventually got over my case of OCD. How? By forcing it out of my head. I just slowly & steadily pushed those thoughts away from my head & heart. Some may call it repressing feeling-which is not good, I know- but it worked. It wasn't until Feb. of last year that I realized what I had went through was OCD.
I know I've been going off topic a whole lot, but I do that even when I'm talking or trying to think collectively. Sometimes like in this journal, I reiterate back to things I touched on or talked about already. Mainly because everything ties in together. My life and train of thought is like a big circle. Every problem that comes up in my life, turns into its own lil cycle. I think that's enought for now...later.
-ezily_bruzd