You are the reason I’m stuck in this two star town.
I slacked off in college because I was so concerned with you not waking up for classes.
Even when you quit school, I worried about you waking up for work.
You treat money like no object, which must be easy when you don’t actually earn any.
You call me lazy, when you won’t even get a job.
You play video games all night and get mad when I want to do something. The way I see it, if we’re spending my money, you shouldn’t have a say.
You do everything you complain about me doing.
You know I’m fighting this manic depression thing and yet you make zero effort to make anything remotely easier for me.
You lost your job for a bullcrap reason, I understand. But I put up with mean people at my job too. If I had a nickel for every time a customer cussed at me or called me stupid, I could retire. I never had the luxury of going off on a customer and getting fired because I’ve always had to keep a job.
I’ve invested so much time in you, I wish you’d do the same for me…



I think I’m getting closer to the problem of why I feel so down all the time. I don’t think I’m clinically depressed or manic depressive or anything of the sort. I’m fine on days off, I’m fine when I’m home. Some of you who read this probably are automatically thinking about how lazy I am, but hear me out.

I never had the luxury of solely going to school. Since I was old enough to work, I’ve had to work. My parents didn’t give me the option of not going to college- I was going whether I wanted to or not, and I was going to pay nearly every cent of it. I went to school full time, and worked 3 days a week. At first, I handled it, but then my grades started slipping. My parents’ response was to cut from my already minuscule social life. I never had downtime, and I buckled under stress. When I was scheduled to work and it conflicted with class, work didn’t care and school was unsympathetic, which I understand. I ended up quitting school after four years because I couldn’t do it and work anymore. So now I’m in this mundane cycle of going to work for pay that is spent on loan repayments and bills before I even get the cheque.

A big problem is the fact that he’s not working. My ultimate goal is to be able to stay home when we start having children. I’ve seen how difficult it is for pregnant women in my job field, especially when they expect us to work 12 hour shifts on Black Friday and then a few 9 hour shifts per week. I’m exhausted at the end of work weeks during holiday/ extended hours as it is, I can’t imagine being pregnant too.
He promised that if he gets in a stable enough job that this could possibly be a reality. I could return to school, job free. But he has yet to get a job and he’s been out of work for nearly a month. It angers me to see that he sits around all day playing music. He doesn’t clean like he says he will, the house is still a mess. I know that he wants music to be his career. I know that he has a producer interested in his music… But I need some kind of relief, because he’s not doing much to accelerate the process of getting his music career going. He has nothing but time on his hands. I don’t even have time to breathe. I come home, my ankles are so stiff that I can hardly walk, and I end up sleeping most of the free time I have. I’m ‘depressed’ because I love someone who is lazy and has been spoiled to the point where he doesn’t understand what it means to support another human being, let alone a child. He gets defensive because I talk to him about it, and it gets us nowhere.

At this point, I don’t know where to go from here. I’ve invested so much time in this relationship and I feel like he’s not totally committed. Not only that, I don’t feel like he gives me any respect for how hard I’m working. The only option is to move back in with my parents, but that means we’d have to get a storage unit and we would lose our privacy in a big way. However, I’m thinking that we could cut off cable here, which would cut $120 off our bill, pinch pennies, and if I go back to class, my loans stop. If I am offered the Kanawha job, I can stay with my cousin during the week, go home on weekends, and find an online or community college in Kanawha. Since I would be part time, I might be able to strike a deal where I could work my four days consecutively to save on gas and things like that. In the future, if this becomes lucrative, I could move down there, but I’m really hoping that I would graduate before that happens. It would put me on a time sensitive schedule to graduate. I’m starting summer classes soon. I will get out of this, even if I have to get out alone.

I just want so much more than that for my life. I don’t want to kill myself day in and day out just to keep us both above water.


Today I feel okay… Still don’t trust it, but at least it’s different. Work went okay. My counter is up $1,200 from last year. That’s good I guess. I think I’m just really tired…

Helter skelter

One day doesn’t seem like a lot.
I decided to not go to FMRS for therapy, because my work schedule simply won’t allow the time. If I have thoughts of suicide again, I promised myself I would go, even if I have to call off work in order to go. My life isn’t where I want it to be, and even though I’m not technically old, I feel myself getting older, if that makes sense. I get feelings of confidence and euphoria but I can’t let myself trust of enjoy them. Waiting for the other shoe to drop on my happiness keeps me in the dark. Praying seems hypocritical to do, but it’s why I’m still here. Because I think it will make things better. I’m scared to go on medication for this because I don’t want to change who I am, I just want the bad feelings to stop. Also, who wants to let their child be taught by a woman with an armful of scars? What kind of peace would entrusting their child to me bring them? I’ve gotten to talk to a few people about the problems going on in my head, and I was shocked to find that I’m not being judged for it. Actually, I’ve gotten encouragement and love. A girl at work even offered to take me to a therapy group with her. I guess that’s a good thing.
On the other hand, I’m becoming very disenchanted with people I used to be close to. I go on twitter or whatever and see a few people who used to call me their “best” friend that won’t even speak to me now. Even better, one in particular made it a point to hate a whole group when I had a connection to them, and now “loves” them because she has a “reason” to. Absolutely pathetic. Must be nice to live in your delusional fucking head.


Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there’s no one else to blame…

I’m drowning. I went from 2 years sober to being unable to stay more than 2 days sober. I want to tell people. I don’t know why I even want to. This blog gives me a few shreds of anonymity, most of the people I know don’t know that I have it, and I took the link down from my twitter before most people would be awake. I feel like a selfish attention whore for wanting to tell people. Tonight I considered suicide seriously, but Nathan talked with me and stayed until I felt safe. Tomorrow I’m going to talk to a girl I work with about going to therapy. I’m afraid of what people will think of me. I’m scared this will tarnish my image. I know what people say about crazy people. I just can’t fight it anymore, I used to be strong, but I’ve gotten weak.


I have been a cutter for nearly ten years, off and on. My method of choice is a razor blade, and I prefer to cut the inside of my arm. I first started when I was 13. My grandfather had passed away and I was grieving. My whole family was grieving, but we didn’t talk about it. We don’t ‘do’ emotions. I read a book or something about a girl who cut and decided to try it. This sounds so sick, but the rush I got was like nothing else. But now I had a visible mark to deal with. Thankfully, it was winter and nobody thought anything about me wearing long sleeves and sweatshirts. When I went back to school after the funeral, I was informed by my friends that my 8th grade algebra teacher had asked my class if I ‘had finally worked up the guts to kill myself’ because I was ‘a weird kid’. Such kind words from a so called “educator”. My problems didn’t go away during high school or even college. In high school I was at constant odds with my parents. I had a lot of triggers- my weight, my dad losing his job, my parents fighting, and of course everyday high school drama. In college, I didn’t fit in, and I never wanted to be there in the first place. My parents forced me to stay in school even though I was the one who would be paying back the $30,000 of loans. I had violent fights with my boyfriend, and I couldn’t quite adjust to the ass kissing standards that Concord administration demands. College made me start to question if I was struggling with depression, but because of the stigma attached to mental disorders, I never sought help. So I’ve kind of just dealt with it. There are always triggers, always darkness inside of me begging to be let out. Now that I’m an adult with a job and a life outside of my parents, I know I can’t do anything about how I feel. In fact, I feel worse as time goes by. It’s a battle to overcome feelings of worthlessness and self hatred. I caved in to it tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and go right back to smiling and faking it. But for now I just can’t do it.

Fall short.

My mother sent me a text today asking me if I had a good childhood, good parents, and if I ever felt like I was judged. Specifically, she mentioned if it hurt me to be compared to my older cousin, Brittany. It took me a minute before I decided to be honest. I told her that I had a good childhood, great parents, and that I always felt judged. She asked me to elaborate a little on it, and I told her the truth; that ever since I was little I felt like I was never good enough physically, mentally or personality wise compared to her. She told me she was proud of me. It’s the first time she’s said it to me since I graduated high school. We’ll see if this changes anything… The healing process after years of inadequacy won’t be easy.

I am your daughter.
I don’t have the best figure and I’m not pretty.
I chain smoke and drink too much coffee and soda.
I cohabitate with my fiancé.
And I know you hate that.
My house isn’t the cleanest.
I know you ‘didn’t raise me that way’.
I screw up. A lot.
I also write poetry and sing.
I try to treat everyone with kindness.
I make an honest living to get by.
And I have a lot of issues to work through so that I can be a whole person.