On the Edge of Seventeen

I always imagined that when I turned seventeen, it would be boring. After all it's in between two big years… I have come to find out though it could't be more mind wracking. All I can think of is that in a year I will be and adult. that in a year and a half I will be leaving all this behind. It has gotten to the point that I am counting the days. I don't want to be here anymore. My mom has made it very clear that she doesn't want to be around me anymore and rarely comes home. I can't sleep unless I am drowning it all out with Bob Dylan. I keep crying. Since my birthday, I have cried every day. I am not someone who cries a lot, but it seems like that is all I do anymore. I hate it. Being seventeen is a nightmare that I fear I will never wake up from. I legitimately fear that I won't make it to eighteen. I have never been much of a fan of self-multilation, but all I ever think about when me mom gets home from work or the gym is grabbing a kitchen knife and slicing downward on my wrists. I hate being depressing or rather depressed. The word sound so evil, yet just so thrown about. I wonder if anyone notices it about me. I feel like it lingers around me in a heavy fog that just refuses to lift. I secretly pray someone will notice because telling people will just make it look like I am just looking for attention. It's like a huge wait strapped around my sternum and two more on my shoulders. I can't lift and I can't get away. I just want to be away from all this. I fear that I won't but know that I am too cowardly to not. I will make it because I know I would feel too bad for the people in my life. I that I can't just give up because if I do then I will have a crappy life, with I already do. So I feel as though I have to get a good plan together so I have something to look forward to. Otherwise their is nothing I can do. All I can think to do is try to get myself excited for something in the future. I need help, but no one seems to care. I am doing a crappy job myself which makes me feel worse. I am losing grip and have no idea what more I can do. I have to figure out what to do before go falling into the abyss of the Great Beyond.

Eyeliner, Boredom, and Lack of Luster

I had a wonderful break. I got just what I wanted for Christmas, caught up with some friends, and finally got to sleep. This morning however came much to soon. I was not at already to face my old life. I was a bit disappointed in my new life. It wasn't the same feeling I had gotten. My mom was in a poor mood which is sure to ruin the entire day in a single moment. My eye liner was just not going right, which is enough of a frustration to write three paragraphs in and out of itself. I was very nearly late, but mostly I was terrified about my schedule change. It's funny, how in the abstract, this was all going to be so easy. I was so ready to quite Yearbook, I still am, but this morning hit me hard. I have the blockage in my throat like I want to cry, but it's only anxiety. I feel out of place. It's not what I am used to at all, and I don't like it, but is that not what life is all about? Getting out of your element? I agree that a change of plans every now and again would do me wonders. I could use a sense of adventure. All I ever do is what is on the plan, well except for when I am with Allie and Zach. They uproot me from the traditional set plans and instead turn it into an putting of mystery and adventure. You can go out to just go and grab a quick lunch and end up being out till midnight going and doing the most random of things. It is a bit nerve-racking at first but it is a ton of fun. Although it seems as though when they leave my happiness fades away with them. I kind of just have to go lay down after that and go to sleep because all of the depressants hit me full circle. I begin questioning to much. Things that I normally wouldn't care about and I hate it. Afterward it feels like it was so long ago and I focus on odd bits of conversation or body language and the whole ordeal is confusing and weird. I have started sewing. I find it extremely relaxing and addictive. I enjoy it more than I have ever enjoyed any activity I have done. I like using my hands and creating things. It makes me feel special, like I mean something. It's like for once I am contributing something to the world. I have put a lot of time into designing and setting up this new hobby. It is going fantastically. I have already made a skirt. I have a fashion journal that has all the information I need in it, artfully done. It takes a lot of time but I am hoping it will be really awesome by the end. I spent all of my break placing all of these hobbies into my life so that I could comeback and feel renewed and refreshed today, but I feel anything but. I am extremely bored and have no idea what to do anymore. I have spent the new first block blogging and other odds and ends just to fill the time because I don't have Edesign anymore. I have been reading as of late and would much rather be doing that, but it's not the right time. I just want to know what I can do so that I don't feel so lost in life. I just have to figure out what it is that I can do so that I can leave it all behind and start anew.

What do I want?

To be completely fair I am nothing spectacular, but I certainly not plain. I work very hard to have an identity, but it has been drawn to my attention as of late that I don't know what it is. After great consideration and a lot of inward bashing of the commenter, I realized that I honestly don't understand any of that. I was under the misconception that you doing things that you enjoyed because they are something the you love and take pride in is who you are. I thought that, whoever you are is who you are that people can't decide that you are anything different. If you are confused by that welcome to club, I will not lie and say that I am not very angry about the accusation that I don't know who I am, because I do. I know exactly who I am and what I am. I am a teenage girl from Tennessee that is still pinned a yankee even though I have never lived in the north, but carry on the mentality that I am a full blooded yankee since I don't sport a southern drawl, but instead a random germanic mid-northwesterner accent that comes from my Wisconsin/ South Dakotan born family. I love my accent. I love a lot of thing, but I sport a resting bitch face on the regular. I love working with my hands and creating. I like knitting, crocheting, needlework, and sewing. I love to watch Netflix it gives me a way to calm down and let all my daily problem melt back into my subconscious until triggered again. I like the taste of food,but I hate eating, I don't like eating in front of people because they will think I like to eat a lot and that is why I am fat, but I hate eating and instead drink 2 Slim Fast Shakes a day and water. I like knowing skills to teach people. I love when people notice my hair or makeup and compliment it, that's why I do it. I always want to show them how to do it, but they are never interested. I know so much I could show or teach people if they just asked, and I would love to show them. I love my friends and morn the weekends that I am not having fun with them, which is almost all of them... The thing is, that I want to be approachable. I realize I am not the nicest of people, but I so want too be. No one really gets that but my close friends, and I get hurt when they don't appreciate it. I suppose that makes me needy or narcissistic, but I guess that's just who I am. I wish I was someone who people called a "sweetheart" or "the nicest person they have ever met", but I'm not. Instead I am a hard-shelled narcissist who spends more time on my hair than with human interaction with strangers during the day, but what is the point of being friendly if you mean nothing to anyone anyway? That's the truth. I am meaningless. I know people see me. I am someone to be noticed. I always have my hair and makeup done up in a different way and it would be hard not to notice me I am one of those people who roam the hallways during class. It's not because I am one of those delinquent kids who just don't go back to class. I used to be in yearbook, and because of that I was constantly out of class getting stuff for that so you eventually begin to recognize the same people that are always out. However, no one wants to be around me or talk to me which I can understand why they wouldn't. I have been told I am intimidated, but you know they say, "It's the feared the are remembered." Actually only I say that,but it's totally true, right? All I want is more relationships with those around me. I want friends to have fun with and to love and buy Christmas gifts. I want friends who will want to continue our friendships for longer than a few months. I know it's my fault but not how to fix it. In short I want to be better with people. I know who I am and what I want in life. I am a Type A personality, I like order and plans. When I am stressed or upset, though everything around me gets messy, my desktop, my makeup counter, my room, and my backpack all become a mess, and I hate it but I can't seem to find the will to fix it. I am extremely anxious and hate it. I cycle through with the fact that I am going to fail in life, and so I should just kill myself now. I a not extremely smart, i am not specifically good at anything. I know how to do a lot,but I am not spectacular at anything. I want to find my talent. I want to love people. I want to love everyone I see. I want to be so loving that people don't trust me. I want to care so deeply for people that they don't ever want to leave, even though they will. I know what I want in life, but not how to get it. That is what this journey is about. It's about fixing the broken. It's about shaping the clay of my life. I need this. I need to learn who I am before I am out on my own in the world. I need to know before I become more bitter than I was, than I am. I don't know what I will become, but I swear to you, this isn't it. I will accomplish so much in this world, and this is only the beginning of it all, and this is the documentation of it all. This is the Road to Myself.

Moldy Cups and Skipped Stiches

As I look at my life, I see that throughout my teen years it has been a recycling of the exact same words and actions over and over again. That being said, I have changed, but not in the ways I'd have liked to. I have only learned further that disappointment in people isn't enough. Those people won't make it up to you. They are still terrible and mean. They don't actually care. That is my revelation of the day. Narcissism, the deadly sin, as the say. Is not actually avoidable. We don't choose to have it. It is in all of us. It's in our id. We are born with it. It is in our blood. We grow up with it without realizing it, and it;s not until someone points it out, do we realize that we have it. It's when they insist that our, "putting ourself first" is worse then their "putting ourself first". However, I think that we all "love" ourself the same. It just depends on how open you are about that relationship. Not, excluding those who hate life or are insecure, they love themselves too, otherwise they would not care how they felt. That is important, because caring signifies love. You don't care how someone feels if you don't care for that person, right? So, caring about your feelings is the first part of the love between you and yourself. Loving ourselves is important, according to many, it's the first step in loving someone else. I always thought that was a load of garbage. It's easier to tell someone they are pretty than to look into the mirror, past your flaws and say the same to yourself. You know all of your flaws. You know your secrets. They don't. So is it really all that hard to love yourself, or do you already love yourself more than you realize? I definitely think, you love yourself from the get go. As children you don't get jealous of how other girls or boys look. You may get jealous of toys, but that's just because you don't have that. It's all based around you eating. You getting ready for school. You are brought into the world knowing it's all about you and then expected to understand that they world isn't about you. That is garbage. The point of this all is that, I clearly hate life and myself right? So what keeps me from killing myself and ending it all? Well, I always thought it was my love for my family and the hurt they would feel if I did it. I don't want them to be in pain, and am willing to take it away, but it only seems to grow. Next, I think that it is my believing that it will all get better. I keep telling myself the worst is behind me. I have hit rick bottom, it will only get better, but it doesn't it just sinks me down lower slowly. I have of course turned to God and even gotten counseling, only to hear that it's not my fault, but what if it is? I mean why wouldn't it be. I should know by now what to do to keep my mom happy, why am I not doing that and questioning why she is so mean. It's just me being stupid. So if I am keeping myself around, I can only assume that it is because deep down I know hurting myself is a no no. I have it in my heart that cutting into this cake that is my body will only further blemish it and make me more unappealing. I also know that if I were to fail it would only make things worse. I want it to be clean and fast so that in my casket I don't look as ugly as I do when everything floats to the surface and I cry. I want those last moments to be one that make people cherish me. I love myself to much to hurt myself or cut. I want the best for me because I have to love myself till the moment I die whether it be tomorrow or at the age of 87. I have to love myself. I understand myself. I may not know what I want out of life, but I do know what I don't. Maybe the others don't love me because they are busy putting themselves first, but it just means that I need to do the same. I love making people happy and loving others, but sometimes it's better to just take sometime and pep talk myself. It's better to trust in yourself rather than others anyhow.

Stop One on the Road to Finding "Myself"

As I sat in my final class of the semester before Christmas Break, I went over and over in my mind all the decisions that I had made differently that would majorly affect the next eighteen weeks in front of me. All of these decisions were made within in the last two weeks, and although brash, were the toughest decisions that I had ever made. I had left behind what I had put my entire life into for the last 2 years. I dropped it as if it were like pulling your songs socks off after a long day. It was a long day, Yearbook was something that I had tried so hard to be good at. I put so much into it and only want a little bit to come out of it, but she has nothing to bleed. Yearbook is the cold hard bitch of my existence at this point. I had taken so much hatred and malice from her, but only ever put my all into getting her to like me. I was promised things from her that were never received and left a callus toward her that was quickly cover from the world. I decided to quite. It was seemingly out of nowhere, but I had been absolutely hating it for months. I thought the only way out of my harsh deadlines were death. I wanted to die. If I didn't get everything that I had tried to get done, finished I would be accused of being a terrible leader. I tried so hard to be a good leader. I was organized, I had great ideas, and I was good at directing people, everything a leader needs,right? Well, no I was extremely stressed the entire time that I was on staff. I was never good enough for anyone, and treated coldly compared to the other leaders. I was promised second in charge and was given nothing. I was treated as though I was nothing. Why would you continue working for something with no payout. It was obvious that I would never get any reward out the program so I got out. My grades had dropped significantly, I was getting more stress from the editor and sponsor than my core-subject teachers. I was putting more work into my pages than my homework, and it showed. My back was in so much pain from stress that I couldn't sit in a desk without almost being brought to tears. I was missing school because of the stress it brought me,while receiving texts from them about not being there to help. I would cry every night just about. Nothing should have that kind of control over me. This was something I joined for fun my sophomore year and it was bringing me to loath life. That was not how I wanted to live. I had just come back from vein out sick for a day and a half because of my Sciatica. It was a Wednesday, I had spent all morning dreading what was to come in Psychology. I knew the editor Madison, would have something to say about me not being there to help even though the deadline had been that Monday. I hated that I wasn't able to help, but no one believed it. When I sat down I opened up my laptop and clicked on the link to open up the yearbook website, cringing because I knew she was about to lean over and comment about something I was failing on my pages. She did, it was as I was typing in my password. "I put in the cutouts for Trends page yesterday." She said "Thank you," I answered dully. "Also, Miller says she needs to see you." I can still feel the pain behind my eyes when I closed them in that moment. The panic and everything that over took me in that moment. I shook it out of my mind and logged in. I opened up to Trends page. Throughout the spread was 7 yellow bullets indicating comments. I opened them each, revealing Miller's comments of my life's work. My stomach rolled in on itself and my throat shriveled up. I could feel pressure behind my eyes. I had to get away from Madison and that computer. I wanted away from the comments telling me to start over. I begged my teacher to let me get out of the room. I didn't know where I was going, but I walked as swiftly as my feet could take me. I went up to the office and stopped at the front desk only to ask if my guidance counselor was in. She wasn't so I scribbled on the whit board on her door stating "Arianna Swan for schedule change." The words blazed up at me in the red expo. They were real now. It wasn't just something I had thought. I was really about to drop Yearbook. Since she wasn't there I turned around and walked straight to the library. I walked through to Ms. Day's office, the social worker. I had been going there to discuses my stress for about a month at that point.I went in and sat down in front of her desk like normal. "How are you, Arianna?" "I want to drop Yearbook." After hearing my confessions on hows much I hated it she emailed my guidance counselor and copied in Ms. Miller without my knowing, asking for a schedule change. I was mortified when Miller waled in and stated she was glad I quite and that I needed to discover who I was first. She talked endlessly on how Yearbook was going terribly.Eventually it turned to my being a bad leader because of poor communication skills. It was a solid 20 bashing about my fake personality. I had no idea what it meant, or that I needed to find "myself". I was under the illusion that the person I woke up to be everyday was "myself". I became even more restful towards her. She knew nothing about my personality and had no right to say she did. I may have known her for three years but she never bothered to listen to anything I said. I quite because of her when it came down to it. No one will miss me or mourn my absence. I do through short bouts of depression about my quite but I thine distract myself with other things. I am going to Ms.Day at least once a week to discuss my problems and why I act the way I do and how to fix it. I wish I didn't quite and could helped more, but I knew it was time, and it was. I just have to find other ways to fill my time. On to find constructive things to do. My first task to finding "myself".

Watching TV

As a teenager and that it is in fact Summer.I enjoy my days sitting at home watching seasons on Netflix and and movies that I watched when I was like four. So its fun I have the house to myself .I sit at home all day till dinner when Dad comes home. I know what your thinking "OHMYGOD SHE IS SO LUCKY!!!!". Yeah well It sounds fun but its as boring as Hell. I think I am lucky when some texts me back. If your summer is like mine then you miss EVERYONE you went to school with , but you just gotta stand up and think if I where in school I;'d wish I was here.
My friend the way I see it everyone doesn't know how well they have it in till its gone so except it that's just the way it is. So thanks for your time bye!!!

No Need to Stare

So today I want on a a nice Harley ride with Dad. Well I get hungry and we stop for some lunch at a fast food joint.So we get there and it's jam packed and being on a motor cycle that is very very hot and so we finally park at the front door, after having a family stare at us while the two year old kid is standing in the middle of the street playing and we stand there for like three minutes till it occurs to her that her kid is standing there so the mom gets the kid so i we could do our thing .Oh wait there is more a church van pulls right up next to us and parks and they unload and it has kids that were around my age and i get off and make a huge scene of it and all the boys on that van stared . The look on there face was hilarious !!! "Like omg a chick on a motorcycle !!! " I some how managed not to laugh which was very hard .I then went in to the place and got pushed around a bit and finally sat down and ate. I then new what it felt like to be Tommy Williams from mysocalledundeath and Kiss of life and the other Generation Dead novels . Well my point of the day is that people you feel very uncomfortable when people stare at you so don't stare at others !!! Thanks everyone love ya !!!