i want to write.

wow. i feel like these past few months have been for nothing. I feel like I’m not doing anything that’s helping anyone. I mean, I try to help out with my mom, I pay for my car, my insurance, my phone and internet…but I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished anything, I need to accomplish something, I need a goal. Yes, it’s easy to set a goal, but working to achieve it is a whole different story. I need a goal I know I can achieve, not something I’m just going to blow off, which is usually what happens. 

School I’m sure is the answer, I just haven’t been out in the real world lately. School would help, I haven’t talked to any of my friends, if they even consider me a friend. I never did anything with anyone back when. I always have been a  loner. As far back as I can remember, I always have been a nervous wreck. My life was just a big roll downhill until about last year when I finally got some help. I mean I never had truly been happy, and for all of you people out there that say antidepressants don’t work, well I think you’re full of it. Tom Cruise, shut your hole, Brooke Shields was write, they do work, or at least for some people.  But seriously, I had always felt that way, so out of touch, alone. I didn’t even realize until I got on the medication, that life was a blur like that, I can remember even when I was in the first grade, being sick to my stomach, and not knowing why, and I have a good memory. I went down to the office, I was in math class and I started to uncontrollably cry, and I felt sick and didn’t know why. I didn’t actually ‘get sick’, I just felt sick. I had been crying in that classroom for about 30 minutes while the nurse, nurse Ford, gave a speech about lice, and brushing your teeth and all that stuff, when Mrs. Hickman finally noticed me, and I couldn’t explain what I was feeling. So I was ‘sick’ and went to with my Grandma and stayed at her house and watched cartoons.

It is so clear yet a blur of sadness, and I’m not saying my life was bad, but I can remember everything to the last detail almost. Cayla slapping my sunburn in gym class and Mrs. Anderson telling me to suck it up and my mom coming down on here and telling her to well…just stuff like that has stuck with me. I had friends, but never have I had a true friend, you know, the stereotypical friend, you hang out and play, go to their house, have sleepovers, all that stuff…I never had that. I was always a recluse. I wasn’t that way on purpose, it was just that way. I still fight today on a daily basis, to try and not close off the world, it’s in there somewhere…a switch that I have to keep from flipping that just makes me wanna stay in a dark room and watch everyone from afar. I didn’t ask to be this way, it’s just always been that way for me. Maybe it’s genetics, maybe God made me this way so I would have a purpose to push myself to get out and do something different, or make a difference, who knows. But I wanted to write, and I did, so at least I did something productive today.


topic : sex

Fatty McFaterson. =(