Sunday, December 27, 2015


Do you ever thing that Hingis happen because you want them to? Or because you think about them a lot? Not everything, just some things. Well, maybe everything, but not as a constant thing, maybe a residual thing? Like you thought about it a lot a long time ago and even though it didn't come in the form you wanted it to, it still happened and you just didn't notice it and now it's a reoccurring thing that you only sort of notice in the back of your mind. 
When I spend a lot of time thinking about something, or stressing out about it, or even being angry about it, things just sort of resolve them selves. I think I wrote about that before. Or I thought about writing about it. 
I can't list examples, I don't really remember the smaller things once I stop thinking about them, but the bigger things, at least the recent ones, I can remember sort of without details. 
I'll start with the cat since that's an older one. He was sick and there was maybe a 5% chance he would love, the vet said. And even though the chances were improbable and I had no way to pay for it, everything worked out fine. But I spent so much time, at least a month, just sort of knowing in the back of my mind that he was going to die, and I stressed about it a lot. It was the first time I've felt that sinking, crushing feeling in my chest in years. It's the feeling I associate with heartbreak. And it was so stupid because, logically speaking, he's just a cat. There are a thousand more to chose from if he died. It would have been cheaper to let him die. But I got him because I was lonely, probably the first time I was actually alone, I couldn't even last a week alone in that apartment, and he's always been with me since. So I took the hard road. But everything worked out even though I highly I knew for sure that it wouldn't work out. 
Maybe that's not a good example. Or at least, I'm not writing it to be a good example. 
What's another one? Now that I'm writing it and thinking about it in order, it's hard to recall. 
Jacob, probably, but that's an obvious one. I felt alone and isolated so I made that happen. For a while. That's not a good example either. 
I guess the most recent thing, the one that put me back on this line of thinking after months of not, well, not enough to write about it anyway. 
It's been harder and harder for me to compile my list of reasons to stay. Or to love and put effort into living. 
But the idea of Renee having a baby, it changes the way I think about her, I guess. She's not my baby sister anymore. Now she's going to be a mom. 
I've been excited since she told me a few days ago, it's definitely something worth sticking around for and I really only need one concrete reason at a time. 
And I'm trying so hard not to be jealous, and it's actually been working even though she now literally has everything I've ever wanted from life. All the things I'm not likely to get. 
I was looking for a reason, consciously searching for one for the last month or so, which is a kind of short time for things to play them selves out going off past things, and I found one. 
I don't really know what epiphany I was trying to find from writing through these thoughts. Maybe I was just writing because it feels weird to be up so late (it's almost 3 now which is late for me) but I think I was trying to explain something, I had a solid point when I started writing but I don't remember it now. 
Maybe I'll write again tomorrow night. 

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

The Little Things

Ive heard and read multiple times that it's the little things that you should look forward to rather than some outlandish goal that will more than likely never come to pass, and I've always thought that it was one of those stupid things people say to other people to try to sound like they actually understand what it means to be depressed or even unhappy in general. 
But I think I understand a little better now. I think maybe that's an accurate thing to do. Look forward to the small things. The little things that make he month worth sticking around for. The little things that make the week tolerable. The little things through your the day that just make the day worth being there for. 
Sometimes for me those things are sunsets, cool clouds, even something as little as a bird flying near me or a cat rubbing it's face against me, or someone smiling at me. 
Those things are the nice little things that I used to think weren't enough, weren't worth sticking around for. But they are, sometimes. Mostly when I'm drunk. But there are other things too I think. Like kissing, that's fun, and like flowers that are nice, or cool plants in the grocery store hat I always want to buy. I used to think those thing we're just stupid things that I sort of like but they are part of what makes me, me. 
And I've never liked that before, the me thing, but there have always been things I've sort of liked. Like me eyes, I like those, and sometimes I like other things about me. Like my hair, or my sarcasm. And those little things make me feel like the rest of me is almost worth putting up with. 
I mean, I must be at least a little tolerable to people because if I wasn't I would really have no friends instead of just saying that. It's not true, I do have friends. Jacob. Angie most of the time. Even though I have noting in common with Angie and only a little bit in common with Jacob, they are still my friends. 
I'm a newer friend but that doesn't mean I'm a worse friend right? 
I don't know though, maybe I'm just thinking of this now because I said I wanted to distance myself from all of them. 
I'm not good at accepting change so when I decide to start doing something different it just seems like everything in the universe try's to make it hard for me to follow through on that decision. 
I used to think that rant that I shouldn't follow through but maybe that's just the universe telling me that it's going to be hard so I need to make sure now that I'm actually gonna do it. Usually I give up. 
Maybe this time I shouldn't. I should try to distance myself. 
I don't know. Maybe it's because in drunk now. Being drunk makes me feel more affectionate which makes me feel more attached. That's probably all this is. 
I like being drunk. It's just a good excuse. But I don't like being drunk because Io tell secrets I didn't want to tell. 
The past is the past and it should stay there but I am so bad at keeping it there. 
What's he point of honking about it at all anyway? It just hurts and I know I'll regret it later if I remember. I hope I don't. 
Is it okay to blame everything on one event in the past though? I do that because I don't remember most of what happened after that event, it's all blocked out. But there are just so many Hingis that make sense as coming from that as a side effect but what if I'm just fucked up in general and I'm using that as an excuse? 
Angie is so much better at this than I am, she can deal with it and move on and get her life right, I can't do that yet. I can't forget. It's always in my mind, sans a few occasions.
So being drunk makes it feel better emotionally but it gives me more to think about later when I'm trying to sleep. 
Why can't I sleep? I'm so drunk, and I'm high too, and I'm so so tired, but instead of just falling asleep like a normal person I stay awake and write posts in my head until I think I have enough to write about hen I type it up and talk myself through all my thoughts until I feel like the subject is done. That's hard to do sometimes, like right now, when I can't remember what he first subject was. 
Oh, the little things. 
Anyway, looking forward to the little things, or even the possibility of the little things, that's what I'm doing now. There's a small chance that the things I enjoy will happen, so I probably should be around to see them and enjoy them right? Yeah, I think so. 
I've never been able to look forward to large events, but I think I can manage the littler things. I think I can do that. 
So that's what I'm going to try to do now. I'm probably going to get an A in accounting, that's a little thing to look forward to. My cat is probably not going to die. I have friends who love me that I live too. I found an alcohol I don't mind drinking. I'm going to straighten my hair tomorrow and I really like it when it's straightened. I have some mediocre spinach artichoke dip in the fridge that I'm going to eat tomorrow, kinda looking forward to that. I think Angie is not mad at me anymore, so that's good. 
If I just don't think about the things hat I know are going to happen that suck, I think I can almost stay positive for a while. 
That's a good thing. Probably. 
 Not going to give up right now. I don't even feel like I need to. I feel like I should really try with my life even though I don't know what I'm trying for. 
I think that's enough for now. 

Sunday, December 6, 2015


Fitting in is always something I have been really good at, but unable to do at the same time. Moving from place to place almost every year, I learned how to watch the people around me and figure out what kind of a person I should be in order to fit in with them. It's become almost a thoughtless process over the years. 
But there is fitting in, and then there is belonging. I used to think they were the same thing, but now I realize that they are completely different. 
Fitting in is acting. It's adopting the personalities of the people around me and becoming like them. 
Belonging is living. Belonging is finding a place where you don't have to try to fit in, you just do. Belonging is finding people who like you for who you actually are. 
Up until very recently I thought I had that. The feeling of belonging, a place I should be, and people that I should be with. But I was wrong. 
These people, this place, all the things that I think about when I imagine who I am, all of it existed before I did. I simply happened across it by chance, and it adopted me for a while. 
But I don't belong there. 
I'm an intruder in that world, I just stepped in and tried to make it my own. But that whole thing still functions without me in it. It does more than function, it thrives. It grows and everyone in it is happy. 
I don't belong there anymore, if I ever did to begin with. When I try to go back to how I remember things, go back to when I belonged and was happy, I throw off the balance of the whole thing. 
I've realized now that chasing after the pay when I was almost happy, when I thought I beloged, is a pointless venture and I don't just mess things up for me, I ruin them for other people too. 
I don't want to give up trying, because then I won't have anything to look forward to anymore, and I really need something. But I'm going to distance myself from it all. Slowly. 
Maybe that way when the end finally comes I won't be upset about it. 
I say that but I know for a fact I will still be upset. 
I was a visitor and now it's time to leave. 

Friday, June 5, 2015

About Nothing

I spend a lot of time thinking about how I'm not really doing anything with my life and how I really should start trying to accomplish something. In fact, the though crosses my mind several times a day at the weirdest of times. Usually it's when I see people who are more successful that I am, which is a lot or propel, or when I see someone my age who has their entire life together already. And then I start thinking about why I've never done anything worthwhile, and I always sort of think that I should start doing something, maybe just reading a book I've been meaning to read or something like that. 
But what if it just doesn't get any better than this? I've had a high point in my life and a really low point and now I'm just sort of coasting along aomewhere in the middle. But what if that's just where I'm going to stay for the rest of my life?
Maybe there is a reason I have no motivation to do anything useful and maybe that's the same reason that I've never been able to accomplish anything or keep a meaningful relationship with any friends or family or why I start getting antsy when things are the same for too long. Maybe it's why I'm a pushover and have spent my entire life doing what I think people expect me to do. 
Maybe I'm just done with the things I was supposed to do in life and now I'm just waiting. For nothing. 
I'm not happy or unhappy or anything at all really. I'm just meh. I used to like to think I was a little bit good with words, but I don't have any idea how to explain that. Like there used to be things that would annoy me and things that I liked that would make me smile a little, but now it's just nothing. There's nothing there. I'm just doing things to fill time until I find more things to do. 
I usually write here when I can't sleep, but I haven't been able to fall asleep well for weeks now, and usually that's because something is bothering me or something's on my mind but I have nothing this time. There's just nothing to think about. But I still can't sleep. 
I realized this morning that the only reason I bother getting out of bed in the mornings is because if I don't get up it will cause more conversation with my grandparents and I avoid conversation with everyone as much as possible, especially because when I live with people everything they say makes me feel impatient with them.
I don't really know where this rant was supposed to be going, and it hasn't really helped me fall asleep, so I guess it doesn't really have a purpose since it's not really about anything.
Maybe something is bothering me and I just don't know what it is and since its habit to write when I can't sleep I ended up here. And sometimes when I free write I can get myself to think of whatever it is I'm trying to realize. I guess it didn't work this time. 

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Someone to talk to

So I've realized recently that I only write here when I'm not taking my medication, so I'll change that by writing now. 

I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I want from life recently, and I always think better when I write it out. When I was little I always wanted to be a vet. I have no idea why, I think I picked it at school one day when we were talking about what jobs we wanted when we grew up and I had no idea what to say so I just picked the first thing that popped into my head. This was in second or third grade. Then for the next six years whenever someone asked me what I wanted to be, I just said vet without thinking about it.  Then I got to high school and realized there was no way in hell I would ever want to be a vet, so then I decided that since I was only a freshman, I'd have plenty of time to figure it out. Except I never did. I went through high school, then to college and I still had absolutely no idea what to do with my life. So I dropped out and haven't done anything since. Honestly, I don't think I ever expected to live much past high school, and I think that's why I never picked something and stuck with it. Why bother when I had no motivation to live? 

And I've carried that thinking into everything I do. It's why I move every year, why I always get different jobs, why none of my relationships ever last, and why I have avoided making strong attachments to friends. Why bother putting down roots when I might decided that tomorrow is going to be my last day here? 

I have spent the last year doing absolutely nothing. I haven't worked, I haven't really talked to anyone, I've hardly even left the house. It gets lonely, but I've brought it on myself and I don't know how to fix it so I will just deal with it I guess. 

The only meaningful conversations I've had in the last year occurred when the person I talk to was either drunk or very high. 

I just need someone to talk to. But I only really want to talk to one particular person, because I know for a fact that no matter what I say, they will understand and not judge. It's a nice feeling. 

I know it's my own fault that I have no real friends and no one to talk to, I push people away. I don't know what else to do. I don't like getting attached to things or people, because they are never there when you really need them. There's no point in building up the hope that when I desperately need someone to talk to they will be there, because they won't be. 

Sometimes when I'm really close to ending everything, or even just considering it, the only thing I really need is a stupid pointless five minute conversation and I'll change my mind. And since it hasn't happened yet, I guess I must get that when I need it. So maybe I'm just being too hard on my friends. Maybe they are there and I just haven't realized it till now. Or maybe they aren't there and I just want them to be there so much that I make up excuses for them. 

I think about dying a lot too. When I'm driving, I always get the urge to pull out in front of fast moving buses and trucks, because that would be so easy and fast. I think if I were to die, I'd do it by jumping off a high cliff though. Because I want to feel like I'm flying for a little bit. And it would be fast too. I just can't help but think that there really isn't a reason not to die. I mean, why stay here? I'm already not doing anything. I may as well not do anything and just be dead. 

I don't know what I want out of life anymore. A month ago. I. Would have said that I someday want a house and kids or something like that. But why would I get a house when I can't stand staying in the same olace for more than a year or two. And what kind of mother would I be? One that wants to die. I'd be a terrible parent. 

So now I just don't want anything out of life. I've given up hoping that I'll get to move back to Wisconsin soon, I don't fit there anymore. I don't fit here either, but since I'm already here I may as well just stick around. 

The moral of this post is that I really want to talk to someone and I don't have anyone to talk to, so I guess that's what this blog is for. 

Friday, January 9, 2015

Last Words

Recently I've been thinking a lot about endings. I know that everything has to end, good things and bad, whether we are ready for it or not. Friendships end, relationships end, lives end. There's nothing we can do to stop those things from happening. No matter what we do, there will be a last time it happens. A last hug, last kiss, last words. 
So while I have the time, I want to make those things count. I want to, but I won't. I don't know how. If my parents died tomorrow, I wouldn't even be able to remember the last thing they said to me. We aren't angry at each other or anything, we just aren't close. I'm not really close to anybody at all. There are people I see every day, but I'm not close to them at all, even though they are my family. It's not dislike, I just don't know how to be close. I don't like sharing myself with others. And why would I? 
Every time I've let myself get close to someone, they have let me down when I really needed them. Every single one. Every person I have ever put my trust in has done something to break it.
So why shouldn't I distance myself from everyone I care about? They have all abandoned me or hurt me when I really just needed someone there, so why wouldn't I want to protect myself from that happening again?

If I died tomorrow, what would my last words be? Polite chatter. Because that's as far as I can let myself open up. Maybe, if I consider you a friend, my last words might be a joke of some kind, something to try to make you laugh. Because that's all I know how to do. Make a joke, talk about the weather, and smile. 
So here are my last words to you, in case I don't wake up tomorrow, or the next day, or next month. 

You have all let me down when I needed you. You have all hurt me at some point, maybe without meaning to, but you have. And I don't forgive you. Any of you. 
Dad, every time my birthday comes around I wait the whole day hoping you will call, or text, anything. And you never do. And that really hurts. I've hated my birthday for years because of it. If my own dad can't remember my birthday, if he doesn't care, why should I? It's just another day now. And I know I live far away and it's expensive to travel, but you could at least think about it once in a while, since I traveled to see you ever summer for twenty years. Well I'm done waiting. 
Mom, the only thing I've learned from you is how to settle into a life I completely hate and not complain about it or do anything to change it. You make all these promises to try to make things better and then you don't follow them through. Well I'm done believing in them. 
To any of my friends, I've tried my hardest to be the one that's always there if I'm needed. I've given rides, gotten up in the middle of the night, covered shifts, changed my plans, lent money, spent time with, and talked to you. And in most of your eyes, it's more important to eat a pizza while it's warm than it was to come help me when my car went in the ditch. I babysit you all when you are drunk or on who know what drugs, but you only talk to me when it's convenient for you to do so. Well that's fine, I'm done thinking you guys will care. 
It's not like I expect that much from any of you. I just want little happinesses. Little moments. A meaningful conversation. A kiss on New Years. A random text asking how I am. But I'm not going to expect that anymore. Any of it. 
And I'm not going to say I love any of you, because I don't really think I do. I don't live my family. I don't love my friends. I've given that all out before, and it's drained away and I haven't gotten any of it back to refil me. I'm just empty now. I don't have anything left to give. Except this. 

My last words to you, all of you, are these; My life has never been happy or good. It's been terrible actually. Yes, I know I have material possessions and make enough to pay bills, which is great. All I could want out of that part of my life actually. But emotionally, it's been terrible. And none of you have made it any better. So no, I don't love you. I don't forgive you. I've become this empty shell, I'm just a person who has given out all the love and care I could, and I've gotten nothing in return. I'm just cold now. Empty, alone, and cold. And I blame all of you. Current friends and past ones. Family I talk to and family I don't. You aren't there for me, you never have been, and now, I'm not here for you. 

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Hope is my worst trait

So I have this habit of always feeling excluded from the things around me. Like, I will go through my normal every day life, work, going the the store, things like that, and there is always this little part of me that notices things like "oh some if my friends did something yesterday, why didn't they invite me?" Or "oh they had a lot of fun on their shift at work, why don't any of them talk to me like that?" And things like that. Usually I think I do a pretty good job of ignoring thoughts like that because I know they aren't founded on anything. 

But thoughts like that have been getting louder since I moved away from everyone I know, which doesn't make since, because obviously I'm 2,000 miles away from my friends, they aren't going to invite me anywhere. 

For the last three weeks or so I haven't even been able to go through my Facebook news feed, because every time I do, there are posts from my niece Grace. As background, Grace and her little sister live with my dad and step mom while their mother, my step sister, works in a city about 4 hours away. I love my nieces and my parents and all that stuff, but every day she posts little videos of her and her sister out doing things with my dad. And I realize that's it's stupid if me, but it's hard to see things like that because my dad spent very little time with me and my sister while we were young and lived with him. On fact, a majority of the time we were there, we were sent to play outside and there were multiple days when I didn't even see my dad because he was working. 

I understand that he's older now and doesn't work as much, but I see these videos and posts about him and find myself immediately thinking "why didn't he ever do things like that with me? Why does he spend more time with my step sisters kids in a few days than he did with me in a while summer?" 

My niece has been through a lot in the last few years and I know she needs a father figure in her life, and I'm glad she has mine, I really am, but I just wish that I could have had some of that time too. I know he loves my sister and I, and he was a good dad when he was around. Maybe I just miss him. It's been almost two years since I've seen him.

He doesn't call me on my birthday. I wait every year, and he never calls. I think that hurts the most. Neither of us like talking in the phone but at least I call him on his birthday and on Christmas. And then I spend my birthday with my phone in my hand looking at it every few minutes to see if he called. And I let myself hope every year even though he has never called. Not once. And I tell myself that every year, and I tell myself not to even think about it. But I still hope. And then I consider myself lucky if I get a Facebook note from my step mom saying "happy birthday" and she only remembers because Facebook told her. That's why I don't have my birthday listed there anymore. 

I'm a 23 year old adult. You would think I would have learned by now.