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Drunk

Drunk I remember watching him stumbling into the house his voice so loud he woke the neighbors screaming and yelling as he told our mom how everything was her fault, the way he turned out was her fault! And I promised I would never get drunk. I hid behind the couch with my hands over my ears as my house became a court room of accusations, debates, and sentences as doors were slammed and the sound of crashing noise could be heard from the basement as fists were put through dry wall. And I swore I would never get drunk. Turning up the radio a little bit louder to drown out the sound of stomach contents being emptied into water, turning up the tv when his hands were shackled because we had the right to remain silent, we wouldn’t say goodbye this time. And I vowed I would never get drunk. Watching a 6 year old girl walk up to a waitress and apologized for her  mom’s inebriated antics with a smile of a seasoned actress. Later, she made herself as small as she could be with
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High School Depression

Just a poem I wrote when I was in high school. Don’t tell me that you know me, cause you don’t. Don’t say you’ll always be right there cause I know you really won’t. I won’t try and be your friend cause I know you’ll never stay. Sooner or later they all tend to forget  me anyway. I feel so cold, I’m really numb; Tell me how could I be so dumb, to think that I could escape and maybe become something great.  Please oh please, please oh please, please don’t look like that at me. Heartless, heartless I hear them say. Is that all they think of me? Just because I’m not like you doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings too! late at night I sob and cry, cut myself and wish to die.  But I’m not sure if they’d care even if they saw me there.  Now ask me why I never try, Why I go to run and hide. The mask I wear is far too thin and I’m not comfortable in my skin. I say I’ll change it, wait and see! I’ll become a somebody! But the truth is I don’t think I can, unless I changed all that
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I'm Just Fine

Thump, thump there goes my heart, very soon now it will stop.                                                                Blood is flowing down my arms, I don’t want to deal with life no more.                                            Every time they asked me why I would say that I’m just fine, now I admit it was a lie.                         Tick tock goes the clock slowly, slowly my time is running out.                                                                                      They say it’s selfish, I don’t care, it feels like no one’s ever really there. You look upset, I feel so sick, how could I put you through this?                                                            We both know you would be better off if I wasn’t here at all.                                                               Free to fly, free to shine. Your life is yours don’t waste it trying to save mine.                                          I can’t live the way you do no matter
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Self-Sabotage

I’m very well acquainted with self-sabotage. It’s like every time things seem to be going right I go into system shut down, slam the brakes, make some kind of foolish mistake, lose myself in   misunderstanding. I’ve had people ask are you afraid of failure. I don’t like failure, but I have grown accustomed to it, it has been my modus Operandi, the theme song of my life. I wear it’s scars like armor to save me from  its sting. Well, maybe if it's not failure it's success, I’m not afraid to fall but to fly, because all my insecurities, failings, sadness has been wrapped around me so long and so tight that it has become a second skin and I’m not sure where it ends, and I begin. I’ve become comfortable in my mediocrity, complacent in my poignant inadequacy because my insecurity has been the most constant companion I have ever had, and I don’t know who I’d be without it because it’s all I’ve ever been. People laugh and say, “well you would be you,” but I
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Life by the Moment

I am not exactly an extremely happy person. In fact, for a psychology class, I had to take a personality inventory which told me I am a mostly unhappy individual, which I think is going a little far. As I have mentioned in a previous post I believe that people can be both happy and sad at the same time and even about the same topic. However, I will admit that I tend to be sadder than the average person. I honestly can't remember a time when I wasn't sad and I doubt there will ever be a day when I won't be sad. This might sound extremely cynical and I'm not sure whether I should be so accepting of it, but it has simply been the reality of my life; joy is a loud emotion that is foreign and excitement has always been muted and that just the way it has always been. There have been times in my life when this sadness has just seemed to take over, and I can’t help but see my life through a fog of unhappiness. It seems as though my life both in the past, present, and fu
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Christmas Time Blues

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It's the holidays, that means beautiful Christmas lights everywhere, slightly annoying Christmas music, tasty food, a higher degree of human interaction, and memories. Now, I may sound like a bit of a Scrooge at points there, but I really do like the holiday, I just tend not to feel exceptionally happy around the holidays. I am a huge believer in the duality of human emotions, mental framing, and that in general one can feel both sad and happy at the same time at points without either emotion ruining the other; but during the holidays, while I feel happy, most of the time it feels dull and I find myself realizing at points when I should be really happy that I am really not.    These feelings of sadness can be attributed to a number of things: First of all,  I have social anxiety and during the holidays I have to interact with more people and stores are generally more crowded. Also, I live in a state that seems to be under a perpetual gray blanket during the winter, this leads
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Broken Toy Robot

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For most of my life, I’ve felt like a robot. I don’t mean one of those robots that seem to be practically human from television shows and movies, with amazing human-like features which allow them to almost blend in with human life. What I mean, is one of those robots that you get out of the toy aisle and when you take it out of its box turns out it’s dysfunctional. It moves loudly, slowly, wobbly and the voice is distorted. The kind you usually put right back in the package and return to the store for a refund because it doesn’t have any use. Growing up, emotionally I was rather robotic, never excited when I should be, sad when I should be, never expressive enough. My family used to tease me, claiming I was autistic and this was something that made me angry for a number of years. I felt like everyone could see as I fumbled along the bumpy terrain of human expression and interaction, coming to jarring halts and falling when it should have been smooth. Beyond this, I struggled with dep
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