PARTY WOES AND FRIEND GOALS.

I was at a party some time ago, experiencing a little anxiety that is the norm to me. I usually get anxiety right before heading somewhere, and for a little while when arriving at my destination. I get a little shakey, hesitant, and I just.. end up being a little off. Upon arriving at a destination, I usually take a few moments to gather myself. I'll either sit, or take a walk, a few breaths and then I'm okay. This is usually mistaken for some sort of unhappiness. I'm not 100% sure what the feeling is (I'm aware it's nervousness but the feeling is more), but I know it's not unhappiness.
Anyway, I've stopped being shy about it. I've told more people what's going on, trying to assure them that it isn't that kind of a feeling. It's a nervousness. So at this party, a friend asked if I was ready, and I told him that I wasn't. I believe my exact words were, "I'm sorry, I'm not ready yet, I'm still pretty fucking nervous to do anything yet". His response? "Cool, take your time. I appreciate your honesty".

Too many times unnerving feelings are punished and thrown as the person having a problem. Although this whole thing might not happen to everyone, I'm comfortable saying how I feel now. I owe that ease of feeling to the pal that responded with such. People watching, I found, is the simplest and quickest way for me to accept my surroundings, accept the change, and place myself in the current. I know that my situation might be a little unique, but for those that might be in the same boat, may I suggest to the people around them.. before approaching someone asking them, "What's wrong?", give them a few minutes to catch themselves. They might need that absorption time.. and to everyone who does do that, thanks. You're making these characteristics so much easier to deal with. I'll be good in five minutes:)

AT LEAST WE DIED TOGETHER, THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.

I had a dream last night you gave me a ring with a fucking castle on it..

She ain't got no soul, she ain't got no heart. Love will stunt your growth.
Love will make it hard to stay sober. So hard to stay sober.

I'mma be fine anyway.
I'mma be cool.
I'mma keep calm.
I'mma be right anyway.
Better than you, better than her.
I'mma be on anyway.

THE STAGES OF MENSTURAL CYCLE FEELINGS.

THE WEEK BEFORE THE PERIOD:
Man, I'm seriously getting fat. Am I pregnant?!

FOUR DAYS-ISH BEFORE THE PERIOD:
OMFG I HATE EVERYTHING. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?! WHERE IS MY CAREER GOING?! That fucking girl just stared me down. Who does she think she is?! Nice skirt there, girl. Yeah, more like NOT-SKIRT. Haha. I'm hilarious. I'm so sad. I need to cry. *cries*. I'm not good enough for this world. WHY AM I SO FAT?!

TWO DAYS-ISH BEFORE THE PERIOD:
I have the weirdest craving for a grilled cheese with ice cream. I'M GOING TO EAT EVERYTHING, FUCKA GYM AND A DIET.

THE DAY OF THE PERIOD:
PRAAISE EVERYTHING I AM NOT PREGNANT!

THE SECOND DAY OF THE PERIOD:
Everything hurts. Why is my pelvis stabbing my stomach with a sword?! I'm going to bed and never leaving. My boobs. Oh geeze, my boobs. My boobs don't fit in my bra, that's great. Let's just let these weights of pain take over the day, great. Mega excite. Ugh. Hate you.

THE THIRD DAY OF THE PERIOD:
Pant check. Ok, phew I'm good. Did I take out my last tampon!? Shit. Did I?! Get your food away from me, it smells awful. So horny. Where is my water?! So thirsty. DAMN THESE SWORDS.

THE FOURTH-FIFTH-ISH DAY OF THE PERIOD:
Almost home baby, almost home.

EVERY OTHER DAY:
I hope I'm not pregnant.

SEARCHING FOR..

Silence. I rested my head on the inside of my arm. The blood passing through my veins sounded like a faint heartbeat. The ceiling fan spun, sending what sounded like a rake scraping pavement down toward my eardrums. The tears dripped from my cheek, making my arm wet. The sheets rustled as I changed positions to stop it. The tiny voices in my head were screaming at each other. Each team looking for their own, wrong, and right. Each corner turned out empty. The wind blew against the window, ghouls and ghosts of mother nature, taunting the tiny voices.
Maybe I'm not here. Maybe I've disappeared. Into a land of nothingness, into a fortress built by tiny voices, and scrapes, and rustles, and ghosts, into.... numb? We're here. I'm numb.
Find yourself. "FIND YOURSELF!", I tell the tiny voices in my head. Maybe if you circle back to yesterday. Ugh no, not yesterday, that is where the heart is from. Try going forward. Take a left once you reach vitality and catch your breath. Take a second, catch your breath. Jesus Christ, why can't you catch your breath?
It's cold now. I'm wearing my jacket, my sweater, but it's cold now. I'm in the fetal position, but I'm cold, now. I don't mind it. I want to be cold. I hate warmth. I just wish they would stop shouting at me. I don't know where the right or wrong is, why can't they hear me? Why do they ignore my pleas?
My heartbeat slowed and grew louder with every beat. The thumps seemed to be pounding out of my chest. I gripped myself tightly, trying to muffle the pounding but my arms were too weak. I closed my eyes hoping that the inside of my eyelids would help the tiny voices to have less distraction.

Silence.

It has never been this loud.

IT'S AS IF..

It's as if everything I've done prior doesn't matter.
I've completely faded from the most important thing to a stranger.

I am not given time to speak, or be heard, or recognized.
Words of praise quickly turned into words of hate.

So many people hoped for this and wanted this.

Immaturity before adult conversation, because my existence should not matter unless I abide to every rule in the life book and never have any thing close to a human mistake/break down/emotion.

Hold everyone else's mistakes in your hands, so that your level of superiority does not leave you.
Grasp tight to the fact that you are perfect, constructed robotically to ensure your entire self-less being is only slightly out-shined by your holistic presence. Hold on to all of that, for the sake of us no good-fuck up-useless-cold-hearted shit bags who have no remorse or regret for the almighty being that is you.

I couldn't find the gears to transform me into everything I was supposed to be, so let me continue down this downward spiral until my existence isn't plaguing yours.

Send all of your continued disgust down the road of no forgiveness. I'm trying to hitch a ride under the sign that says "Wrong turn, all the time". A place that *you've* never driven down, even though it's the only road home.

CONFESSIONS OF A DEPRESSED COMIC.

So much.

REPAIRING.

My biggest fear is being so afraid of myself, I shut out what I really want.
My biggest downfall is letting moments infect my life.

What if everything I ever do, is wrong?
What if every right wasn't my right?

I want to be a nobody. Hiding in the corner, playing Nas in my head.
Shit. Other days, I'm terrified of being a nobody.
Where do you go from there?

Everyone wants to feel needed, loved. But what if I just want to be, "free".
Does being free go along with feeling needed?
Can we differentiate between the two? Sometimes certain sparks of both feelings feel the same.

Read. Laugh. Music. Dance. Cry. Write. Live.
The philosophy is simple, so why do we run away from it?!

Simplicity isn't fucking simple, man. It's fucking difficult.
I can't find a straight line.
This path is so jagged and winded that I've lost myself. Every time I think I'm back on path, I drop the compass.
I write metaphors when I try to find a deeper meaning in my existence.

Everyone wants a helping hand or thinks I'm fucking special.
I can't be both. Fuck, I'm nowhere near special.
I only make sensible choices like 25% of the year, the other 75% is pure fuck up.
I tell myself that I'm not wrong because I can't handle guilt, but I shouldn't be doing that. You shouldn't hide from mistakes, you should try not to do them. I'm not trying hard enough.
I want to be better, I want to grow. I want everyone's forgiveness or motivation, but I haven't done enough to deserve that.
The other side of my head is saying, "You're doing fine, Botch. Relax.".
It's not okay to do that.

Just be happy, wrong or not. What.

I need major repairs.

I don't want to be un-fixable.

I JUST WANT TO BE IMPORTANT.

I want to be important. I don't want to be needed. I could give less of a fuck about that shit. Just important. I don't need to be at the top of the ladder, I don't need to own the world. Just important. I don't want a statue with my name on it.I don't need to be the park bench that everyone sits on but ignores the gold plated piece of memory on it. GOOD IMPORTANT. I don't want to be that phone bill you keep in your drawer of important things. No, fuck that. I want to be an antique necklace that you received from your grandmother. You keep it in an engraved box a top your dresser. You only wear it on special occasions. That kind of important.

IMPORTANCE OF BEING IMPORTANT HAS NEVER FELT MORE IMPORTANT.

BOUNCING BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THE HEALING AND THE HOLLERING.

March is get your ass on track month. I'm a sad, emotional, party-going wreck right now. Breaking down for a half hour and laughing the next. I've been fighting inner demons but maybe not to my fullest potential. I really miss my cousin. It hurts more than yesterday and less than tomorrow. BUT. I'm okay. I'm pushing and pushing to be okay. Some days, I am. Other days, I'm a little crazy. The group of people around me is so supportive that it makes anything appear possible even when I haven't achieved shit all yet. YET. Key word y'all, yet.

I'm not gonna sit here and rant about how you should feel sorry for me. I've always hated people who did that. People who feed you their petty problems. Whenever someone comes to me crying, my mind is yelling "Ugh get over it!". SO. I know how that is, people. I've never really known of a person or story of someone who was exactly where they wanted to be. I mean, everyone always wants to improve their situation, right?

I'm a private person when it comes to emotional stress, as well as emotional well-being. Although it's funny, my number one shoulder to cry on is a blog.. which in essence, isn't very private at all. Unless no one reads it, then fuck. WHERE ARE WE GOING WITH THIS?!

Okay. Here's what I really want to say. I don't want to approach the world with how I'm feeling, because I'd always rather write about it than speak it. This way it's a choice on whether you would like to see what goes on in this girl's fucked up head, or whether you'd click on to a Photo Friday. Either choice won't hurt me. I've been an independent psychopath since forever. I said psychopath as a joke, I'm really not going crazy. I am having a fun time right now. I am beginning to prioritize on paper, but need to relay these goals to reality, it's tough but I'm working on the discipline part. I am a little sad but I am handling it in a healthy way. My friends rule. Hip hop is life. Wu-Tang forever. Love is love.

Fuck you March, I'm going to destroy you.

Mean mugs, up.

...

If you love something, let it go, and if it comes back.. something. Some cliche quote that is so cliche and quotey but extremely legit.

Tomorrow I graduate college; with this new movement in my life, I plan to go and get more school. Professional student tings.

I'm sad at how things are kind of biting me in the ass.. but I have to do what's right and will help me grow. I'm only trying to do the right things, even if they're sucky as fuck.

Let's all cry and read books and write things and grow together.. or apart, with our pets. You know. Whatever.

Emotions run wild. Even worse at night.
Stay up, Botch. For the love of everything, stay up. Stay up.