I'm listening to: Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional.
My sister is at her grad banquet right now, the last grad thing she has, before she leaves the school for good. I was taking pictures when she left, and the only thing I could think was 'God, she's so beautiful.'
Since we were little kids, my sister has been my role model, my favorite person in the world, the way I cope with living with my father. She makes me laugh when I'm sad, and dance when I'm exhausted.
My sister is everything that I want to be; confident and beautiful and talented and self-assured, and she knows who she is and where she's going. And where she's going is away. I'm so proud of her, but at the same time, I'm sad, because she's leaving. And I'm not. And I'm really going to miss her.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
So, I'm supremely confused. And tired. And having guitar issues. But mostly confused. My friends have got me all twisted around. I've decided that it is the fault of males. Maybe we should just kill all the guys. And then, slowly, all the women will die, and in a hundred and seven years, we will have killed off all the humans, and only half the deaths will be murders. It's the perfect solution!! We'd be gone, and we could leave the world to another race, maybe one that wouldn't fuck it up the way we have.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Shame
You know how theres things about you that embarrass you, they make your cheeks burn with shame, and you don't want anyone to know? And then somehow, awfully, they're accidentally brought up, someone asks whats wrong and you can't explain, and suddenly you have a terrible web of non-lies, things you wish were lies, and you don't want to say them.
Ashley Jenn, if you're reading this, stop NOW. Or I'll want to know why. You know who you are. If you read this, I will know, and you will die the worst death I can invent. And you know how creative I can be.
I have a panic disorder. I get anxiety attacks, where I can't breathe, and it's like the most intense fear you've ever had, beyond that, gripping you and filling you until the fear is the only thing in the world. It's the scariest thing that has ever happened to you. And it happens reasonably often. It often happens when I worry about people I know, or I get stuck, or I lie, which, let me tell you, has made me very honest indeed. But it also happens sometimes for no reason, or, as stupid as this is, when I have to do band testing.
I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true. Whenever testing time rolls round, I can feel the beginning of an attack, sitting there on my chest. Sometimes, I know that it's coming, and I can excuse myself, and go somewhere private, and take deep breaths and remind myself that I'm okay. And I'm glad for that, because that fear, that out-of-control terror, that's private. That's something too raw, to close, for anyone to see, or know about. I feel them coming on, a heavy weight like a steel ball in my chest, I start breathing shallower, I get dizzy, sometimes I start to cry a little, and I have to get out of there.
It's one of those things, one of those evoutionary glitches, that makes my life harder, like anaemia (a lack of iron in the blood, makes you tired all the time, and sluggish, and you have to take icky meds). And it's the scariest thing that will ever happen.
I started getting the attacks when I was eleven, when my sister was in the hospital with brain damage. I don't know if I've mentioned that before, I'll explain it later. Anyways, I was taking on a lot of responsibility for the family; cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, looking after my little brother, on top of my everyday life stuff; school, Guides, choir, friends. And there was one day, when I'd gone and picked up grocerys after school, and I was making dinner. I was the only one home so far, my brother was at his friend's, my father was at work, and my mum was at the hospital with my sister. I was making pasta with homemade white sauce, and the phone rang, and then the pot was boiling over, and my friend on the phone was yattering on about her current 'crisis', whatever it was, and then I burned myself quite badly on the stove, and I was running it under cold water and trying to stir the pasta, which was sticking to the pot, and then the sauce was burning, and I realized that I'd forgotten to pick up the french bread, and then suddenly I couldn't breathe. I thought I was having a heart attack. I thought this must be death. I'm dying. It felt like there were barrel rungs around my chest, pulling tighter and tighter, squeezing the air from my lungs, and my mind was full of nothing but absolute fear. I lay on the floor, with the tap running and the pot boiling over and the sauce burning, trying to get air into my lungs. After a minute , or maybe an hour, time seemed unimportant, pushed aside by more important things, it subsided, and I could think again. I sat up shakily, and then stood. I remember leaning on the counter for a full five minutes before I snapped back, realizing that I had basically mutilated dinner, and the burn on my wrist was stinging. I thought that I was going mad, but I never mentioned it, probably for that reason. I might be cracking up, but I had to be strong for my family.
It was a long time before I realized what these attacks were. I was thirteen, and I read a book called The Nature of Jade, by Deb Caletti. Now, I know what they are, but I haven't told anyone, not even my mum, because they'd send my to psychiatrists, and psychologists, and all sorts of people who'll ask me questions and try to psychoanalyze me. When you have something like that, people treat you different. They treat you like glass, like you might collapse at and time. And I don't want to be The Sick Girl, or Tradgedy of the Week. I am not my disease. So don't pity me, and if a friend reads this, please treat me like you always have. And if an enemy reads this, still be a bitch to me. Cuz I deserve it.
Ashley Jenn, if you're reading this, stop NOW. Or I'll want to know why. You know who you are. If you read this, I will know, and you will die the worst death I can invent. And you know how creative I can be.
I have a panic disorder. I get anxiety attacks, where I can't breathe, and it's like the most intense fear you've ever had, beyond that, gripping you and filling you until the fear is the only thing in the world. It's the scariest thing that has ever happened to you. And it happens reasonably often. It often happens when I worry about people I know, or I get stuck, or I lie, which, let me tell you, has made me very honest indeed. But it also happens sometimes for no reason, or, as stupid as this is, when I have to do band testing.
I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true. Whenever testing time rolls round, I can feel the beginning of an attack, sitting there on my chest. Sometimes, I know that it's coming, and I can excuse myself, and go somewhere private, and take deep breaths and remind myself that I'm okay. And I'm glad for that, because that fear, that out-of-control terror, that's private. That's something too raw, to close, for anyone to see, or know about. I feel them coming on, a heavy weight like a steel ball in my chest, I start breathing shallower, I get dizzy, sometimes I start to cry a little, and I have to get out of there.
It's one of those things, one of those evoutionary glitches, that makes my life harder, like anaemia (a lack of iron in the blood, makes you tired all the time, and sluggish, and you have to take icky meds). And it's the scariest thing that will ever happen.
I started getting the attacks when I was eleven, when my sister was in the hospital with brain damage. I don't know if I've mentioned that before, I'll explain it later. Anyways, I was taking on a lot of responsibility for the family; cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, looking after my little brother, on top of my everyday life stuff; school, Guides, choir, friends. And there was one day, when I'd gone and picked up grocerys after school, and I was making dinner. I was the only one home so far, my brother was at his friend's, my father was at work, and my mum was at the hospital with my sister. I was making pasta with homemade white sauce, and the phone rang, and then the pot was boiling over, and my friend on the phone was yattering on about her current 'crisis', whatever it was, and then I burned myself quite badly on the stove, and I was running it under cold water and trying to stir the pasta, which was sticking to the pot, and then the sauce was burning, and I realized that I'd forgotten to pick up the french bread, and then suddenly I couldn't breathe. I thought I was having a heart attack. I thought this must be death. I'm dying. It felt like there were barrel rungs around my chest, pulling tighter and tighter, squeezing the air from my lungs, and my mind was full of nothing but absolute fear. I lay on the floor, with the tap running and the pot boiling over and the sauce burning, trying to get air into my lungs. After a minute , or maybe an hour, time seemed unimportant, pushed aside by more important things, it subsided, and I could think again. I sat up shakily, and then stood. I remember leaning on the counter for a full five minutes before I snapped back, realizing that I had basically mutilated dinner, and the burn on my wrist was stinging. I thought that I was going mad, but I never mentioned it, probably for that reason. I might be cracking up, but I had to be strong for my family.
It was a long time before I realized what these attacks were. I was thirteen, and I read a book called The Nature of Jade, by Deb Caletti. Now, I know what they are, but I haven't told anyone, not even my mum, because they'd send my to psychiatrists, and psychologists, and all sorts of people who'll ask me questions and try to psychoanalyze me. When you have something like that, people treat you different. They treat you like glass, like you might collapse at and time. And I don't want to be The Sick Girl, or Tradgedy of the Week. I am not my disease. So don't pity me, and if a friend reads this, please treat me like you always have. And if an enemy reads this, still be a bitch to me. Cuz I deserve it.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Changes and Futures and Confusion and Wishes
Everything is changing so fast that I can't keep up. Life's not passing me by; it's trying to run me over. My sister is leaving for college in three weeks, to live on her own in a different city, on a different piece of land, with her own life, and it makes me think. It's not long until I go, and time passes so fast. Me and some of my best friends were talking about that, after this stepping up thing we had a couple of weeks ago. It's kind of like a rite of passage, that ceremony, even though its stupid and little. And the four of us were all talking about where we were going after we graduated, and what we were going to do with our lives, and it was weird and scary and exciting and happy all at once. I do know what I really want to do: I want to be a creative writing teacher. Not in schools, where you need a teaching degree, but extracurricular classes, or working with Gifted kids. I know that there's nowhere near the amount of stuff that Gifted kids should have, especially in high school. You only really get Gifted stuff from Gr.4-6, and thats it. I wish that I'd had that opportunity, to have writing classes.
But to be a creative writing teacher, you need to have written something, something published and relatively impressive, or any time you try for a job, you get laughed at. And I do want to write. I want to write more than anything in the world; writing is a default state for me, and it is the thing I love most in the world, but I just don't see how that could really happen.
But to be a creative writing teacher, you need to have written something, something published and relatively impressive, or any time you try for a job, you get laughed at. And I do want to write. I want to write more than anything in the world; writing is a default state for me, and it is the thing I love most in the world, but I just don't see how that could really happen.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Friends
I'm kind of confused right now. There's one of my friends that I'm worried about. She's just kind of coming into her own right now, and she's hanging out with some girls that treat her really badly, and shes really self-conscious, not that she needs to be, shes gorgeous, and she's just kind of awkward sometimes, and I feel bad about it. I know that it's her journey, and she has to face it, but sometimes I wish that I could tuck her away and protect her from the world. We've been friends for years, and I feel like we're growing apart. She's kind of weird about my friends, I guess. I think that it might be because we're all so loud and weird and outgoing, and she doesn't know them, and I can kind of see how we might scare other people. But the people I hang with, there such a great group of people, I think they'd really make her more confident. I don't know, maybe I'm just stupid. Whatever.
Friday, May 30, 2008
WOW
Someone actually commented on my blog. To comment on it, you have to have read it. What I want to know is...WHO???
So, life is, I guess. I had a fantabulous evening after my shit week, so thats good. And tomorrow is Lynn Valley Day. If there's anyone out there who knows what that means, ^5. It's the celebratory festival of late spring in the area of North Vancouver, Canada, where I live. So, basically, I go every year and goof off and eat those addictive little mini doughnuts. So, yeah, fun.
Nothing really deep tonight, just not feeling it. Maybe tomorrow. And whoever made the comment, it was good, so tell who you is, purlease??
So, life is, I guess. I had a fantabulous evening after my shit week, so thats good. And tomorrow is Lynn Valley Day. If there's anyone out there who knows what that means, ^5. It's the celebratory festival of late spring in the area of North Vancouver, Canada, where I live. So, basically, I go every year and goof off and eat those addictive little mini doughnuts. So, yeah, fun.
Nothing really deep tonight, just not feeling it. Maybe tomorrow. And whoever made the comment, it was good, so tell who you is, purlease??
Monday, April 7, 2008
Revolution
Revolution-everything goes in a big circle, and nothing changes. You feel like you did something by participating, and maybe thats the whole point- to keep the masses content. I protest, even though i know that it will change nothing, because I'm 15, and 15-year-olds don't have a say in what happens in our lives, because we're too stupid and naive to know anything.
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