ok so basically this has been i very bad winter break. it not the gifts, i dont care about that. its the fact that my grandma has been in the hospital since the start of christmas break. and now, christmas of all days, my grandpa has been admitted to that same hospital. ihave almost broke down and cried two or three times today. i hate crying in front of ppl, even my family. so i've waited til' now. i only cry alone, it gives me a sense of relief. its when i feel i can just let go. it clears my head in exchange for a small headache. but i still feel sad. nobody else seems to be as worried as me.
sometimes i talk to myself. some might think im crazy, maybe not. but i know i with always reply. maybe i am crazy after all.
i think to much at times like this, talking to myself. so many thoughts run through my mind. yet it seems that i can focus on all of them at the same time. but when i thought of my own purpose on life meshing it with the thought of whats the point,(mind you i was only 7 or 8 at the time) i started to think of death. my death, others' deaths, just death, dieing. i became suicidal at that point. it was only one attempt, just one. but it was enough to get my mom to send me into therapy.
my therapist was nice, but it looks like she didn't help much. after all i just cried a little bit at each meeting thing. no, not much progress at all. i'm not emo or anything, but i can be when i want, i can be anything.
now, none of my friends would probably ever think i'm like this, but then again, do our friends really know anything about us at all. do they know i like to dance by myself? i dought it.
now my mom is a different story. she thinks she does know me all to well. but the only reason she ever leads me to believe it is because she is an intimidator. she can always tell when i'm lying. well almost all of the time.its still hard for me to believe that i'm telling this to the world, well the part of the world that reads my journal.
i love venting to the world though. telling my story to the smallest group of ppl. and ppl can comment how they wish. for this is my life, not theirs. reading is one of the many other things i do. it is my very own drug. its something where i can lose myself and not care. its like living someone elses life, since everyone gets bored of their own. its like a high. like stealing, or going fast for some. and for the others maybe its having two loves, two lives, or maybe losing ur virginty. are you a virgin? have you stolen something?
whatever the anwser is, be proud of what you have done. ur accomplishments, or ur ******** up mistakes. so many things can happen in ones life. but in the end, it all leads to death!... sad, i know. but it's wut i started talking about in the first place. my very own grammy and grampy. i know they might die, maybe even sometime soon. i will never be prepared for that day. i hate crying, and at their funerals i will do my best. it will overflow eventually and i will fall to my feelings but i dont think i would be able to except it. if someone offers me comfort, i'm hoping i'll be strong nough to ignore them, scream for them to leave me alone, or push them away. but another part will always beg for the comfort. i know that already. but that, i pray, i will be prepared for.
Qukie Community Member 
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