release me from your death grip....
so as the story of my life goes.... school and work have consumed me. any free time left is spent either sleeping, with shawn, or doing homework. man, im pathetic.
im getting to that point where its hard to breathe. how come i always end up at that point? you would think that eventually, your mind and body would figure out, HEY, YOUR RUNNING OUT OF AIR. ONLY A FEW BREATHS LEFT TO TAKE. but of course, my pothead brain cannot figure it out. guess my last breath might be sooner than i think....
i hate reaching this point. im 18 for fucks sake. i should be able to breathe properly and not feel suffocated. but i feel as though someones pushing a pillow down on my face, and the second when im about to crash and burn, the pillow is removed, a huge breath of air is taken, and then im smothered again. its a very painful cycle. it fucks with me mentally so much.
thank god for shawn. hes my rock. he gets me through this shit. keeps me alive. slaps sense into me (not literally). hes my drug, my addiction. they say your addiction keeps you going, keeps you breathing, gives you something to live for. they also say addictions kill you. very strange dont you think?
i never see my family anymore. and as great as it is not to have to deal with the everyday bullshit families have. i miss them. i miss having my brother constantly around asking me to play with him. now everytime he sees me its like WOW ITS RACHEL... the sister i never see. its sad that im missing this part of his life. its amazing how a ten year age difference changes so many things about your relationships with your siblings. i wish he was closer in age to me and my sister, our relationship with him would have been much much stronger, not that it isn't, but i think he would understand why we're never home, and that its not because we dont like him or dont want to see him, its that we're at the climax of our lives, the years that you cant get back, the years that are the most important socially, the years that shape the rest of your life. if only he understood...
sometimes, i just cry
stop smothering me, i need to breathe
rachel
im getting to that point where its hard to breathe. how come i always end up at that point? you would think that eventually, your mind and body would figure out, HEY, YOUR RUNNING OUT OF AIR. ONLY A FEW BREATHS LEFT TO TAKE. but of course, my pothead brain cannot figure it out. guess my last breath might be sooner than i think....
i hate reaching this point. im 18 for fucks sake. i should be able to breathe properly and not feel suffocated. but i feel as though someones pushing a pillow down on my face, and the second when im about to crash and burn, the pillow is removed, a huge breath of air is taken, and then im smothered again. its a very painful cycle. it fucks with me mentally so much.
thank god for shawn. hes my rock. he gets me through this shit. keeps me alive. slaps sense into me (not literally). hes my drug, my addiction. they say your addiction keeps you going, keeps you breathing, gives you something to live for. they also say addictions kill you. very strange dont you think?
i never see my family anymore. and as great as it is not to have to deal with the everyday bullshit families have. i miss them. i miss having my brother constantly around asking me to play with him. now everytime he sees me its like WOW ITS RACHEL... the sister i never see. its sad that im missing this part of his life. its amazing how a ten year age difference changes so many things about your relationships with your siblings. i wish he was closer in age to me and my sister, our relationship with him would have been much much stronger, not that it isn't, but i think he would understand why we're never home, and that its not because we dont like him or dont want to see him, its that we're at the climax of our lives, the years that you cant get back, the years that are the most important socially, the years that shape the rest of your life. if only he understood...
sometimes, i just cry
stop smothering me, i need to breathe
rachel