What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for a reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that sings in me no more.
-Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)
"And all I know is revenge is sweet when you know that you are worthless. And I am better than the games that you play, princess. I'll take my time to slowly plot your end. But now I will spit bullets with my pen." -Senses Fail
I am pissed off beyond all belief today. Honestly, I am thoroughly disgusted with people in general. I am beyond the point of calming down: the only way to feel better is to just say everything that's been happening. I'm not censoring shit anymore. This is my blog and you can get the fuck out if you don't like what I'm saying.
First off, let me say I hate my communications technology teacher. He thought it was hilarious to embarrass me in front of the class once again. As if I wasn't already in a bad mood from last night, (I'll get to that later) he basically set off my anger. I demanded to see my guidance counselor. Yeah, I'm getting him into a lot of trouble. That cocky little bastard should have never messed with me. I'm getting out of the class now, but I sincerely hate people like him.
I really feel like jumping through a window or something. I'm so unbelievably angry.
Last night, my "friend" announced that he was going to be moving in with a girl whom he plans to do "cool shit" with.
You know what "cool shit" means. It's great, cause he thinks he can do "cool shit" with other girls and stay with his current girlfriend.
I love how this situation becomes more and more ridiculously fucked up. I'm not sure how I managed to get in the middle of it AGAIN, but I did. I always find a way to set myself up to get screwed over.
THEN, I'm trying to talk to Kurt about my atrocity of a day, and he just makes it worse by turning this all around on me.
Peachy!
I'm not even sure how to go about any of this. I just know that I am very tired of being little miss sweet and passive. It's very rare that I get angry like this, but I guess everything just kind've stacked on me today.
These little head games men play are really starting to get to me.
Ah, all of that mindless ranting felt good.
And yeah, I fucking meant it when I said I would spit bullets with my pen.
Today was an awful day. I have missed alot at school because of this awful flu going around. I suspect my immune system is still not right because of last year. Anyway, I have this real pill of a communications teacher. Funny that he would teach "communications technology" huh? The man is a total narcissist. I mean, I'm an excellent student; I never talk when is, I'm not rude or obnoxiously loud, nor do I sass him or refuse to do work. I was simply not there because of illness. I have seem him antagonize other students randomly for no apparent reason other than the fact that he is a jerk and I secretly hoped that his ridicule would never fall upon me. Well, I apparently pissed him off with my absence. What an insensitive jerk; it's not like he has to do any reteaching or give me missed work. He gives all of the work at the beginning of the quarter and all of it is due at the end.
And on top of that, it's an elective course. There's barely anything to do in the class as it is. But you know narcissists. This class is the most important! You must be here everyday to do the work that isn't due for 9 weeks! You must be here to watch me pick on random students because I have a meat cleaver shoved up my ass!
So, when I came into class today, having missed quite a few days, I told him that I needed to speak with him. He brushed me off and told me at the end of class. So I waited as he gave his routine morning lecture, reminding us of how superbly important his class is and how difficult it will be to pass. As he continues on with his long, harrowing speech about how not everybody passes his class, he turns to me. "I guess somebody has to fail, isn't that right, Holly? Well, we thank you for being the martyr of the class." I was shocked. Tiny giggles erupted. Did he really just insult me in front of everybody?
It's not as if I didn't feel alienated enough already! No, no, this man has got to ruin every little tiny shred of confidence I have left! I was actually beginning to feel comfortable in my skin, but nope! The whole class gets to laugh at my expense because he's a grumpy, puerile old man.
I could feel the tears welling up in the back of my eyes. That awful burning feeling in your throat...you can practically feel your eyes turn red and misty. I swallowed my tears and focused, rather unsuccessfully on creating my business card.
I came to find out that this man is a total moron when it comes to giving instructions as well. One of our instructions reads to "Click on edit on the right hand side of the screen and set the image size to 8.5"x11." Rather confused, I looked all around for an edit button on the right hand side. Nothing there. I found an edit MENU at the LEFT hand side of the screen, but you can't just click "edit" and suddenly a box shows up. No, no, it's a drop down menu. So I'm scrambling around Adobe InDesign trying to figure out what this asshole actually wants me to do.I finally figure out that what needed to be done was to go to file > document settings for the dimensions and THEN type > margins and columns to do the .25" margins which he also failed to mention.
But if you ask him for help, he gets all flustered, like you are using up his precious time. However, he has like, 800 different TA's and so he does pretty much nothing. He sits at his desk and talks to his favorites.
Like being humiliated in front of the class wasn't enough. Now he's going to humiliate me personally. After I class I went to explain my situation to him. I told him about my fibromyalgia and my hospitalizations. I told him I had been very ill these past weeks but that I would get the work done indefinitely. He then proceeded to tell me that it was impossible to do it even though I assured him I would. He suggested I go back to Hospital Homebound. What does this fucker know about me? NOTHING. How DARE he say that to me. What a prick! He just wants to give me a hard time.
At this point, I could not hold back my tears. I began to panic, but luckily I found a secluded corner to cry in and call my mom. It was an awful panic attack considering I was in public and that made it about three times worse than it would have been. I tried to get in to see my therapists today, but they were all booked up.
So I came home and nearly yanked all of my hair out. It's the weirdest thing with full blown panic attacks. I get this awful manic feeling. Sort've like...I want to run and jump through the nearest glass window, pull my hair, break things, scream...impulsive and destructive things like that. Good thing is: I can control myself. The most harm I do to myself or anything else is dig my fingernails into myself. I huffed and puffed and rocked back and forth - just like the insane people in the movies do - until I got over it. It's amazing how my body now knows how to imitate Ativan naturally. I can calm myself down and get that mellow, serene feeling that comes after a panic attack. Panic attacks are sort've like vomiting in that aspect. You get to feeling really lousy, and it reaches a climax, and then you feel much better (usually). I thought about taking some of my mom's L-Tryptophan but after googling it really quickly, I found it that it is banned by the FDA.
I drove down to the Florida Gulf Coast Art Museum and the botanical gardens. All of the flowers and trees, the shady little paths, and the abstract sculptures made me feel better. I felt sorrowful, though. I was dreadfully ashamed of myself. Nowadays I feel like such a failure.
I came across something interesting walking through the lily garden though. It was a beautiful lily with pink blossoms. I was taking pictures with my camera just for fun and I stopped to take a picture of the pink blossoms. Upon closer examination, I found an intricate spider web lodged between its blades. There, like an ominous storm approaching, was a black widow. It was nestled in its web, standing still. I came to realize how symbolic all of this was. It seemed like something right out of a poem. It occurred to me that things look beautiful from afar, but when you look closer, they may not be as they first seemed.
After this so-called epiphany, I began to notice other spider webs. Tons of them. In the trees, in the lilies, on the flowers, everywhere. Maybe trying to find beauty in everybody and everything isn't good?
I feel more alienated now than ever. Ever since I was about eleven, I have not fit in anywhere. I've never fit a stereotype. I'm not a cheerleader. I'm not a punk. I'm not a super smart kid nor am I popular. I'm just...there. I'm not sure anyone even knows I exist at that school.
And, I've got this awful feeling of impending doom. How am I going to face the day tomorrow?
I don't want to do it.
I can't believe I didn't say this sooner
I'll just believe that I was all displaced
I'll get to speaking, let you know how I feel
I'll get to judging, make you see my appeal
No one will ever see things the way I do
No one will try
All my friends think that I'm gone
But I swear, I swear I'm not...
(I swear, I swear I'm not. I swear...)
This makes me feel that I'll never be quite normal
This makes me act like I'll never get out alive
I'll get to acting, make you all believe me
I'll get to faking, show you all how to grieve
On another Voxer's blog, I found a very interesting personality test. The results I got are amazing. Seems alot like me.
My results? INFP. (Introverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiving)
-You are:
- a very expressed introvert (78%)
- distinctively expressed intuitive personality (75%)
- distinctively expressed feeling personality (62%)
- slightly expressed perceiving personality (22%)
The Portait of the Healer (INFP)
Healer Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in striving for their ends, and investigative and attentive in their interpersonal relations. Healers present a seemingly tranquil, and noticiably pleasant face to the world, and though to all appearances they might seem reserved, and even shy, on the inside they are anything but reserved, having a capacity for caring not always found in other types. They care deeply-indeed, passionately-about a few special persons or a favorite cause, and their fervent aim is to bring peace and integrity to their loved ones and the world.
Healers have a profound sense of idealism derived from a strong personal morality, and they conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place. Indeed, to understand Healers, we must understand their idealism as almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. The Healer is the Prince or Princess of fairytale, the King's Champion or Defender of the Faith, like Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc. Healers are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity.
Healers seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect, perhaps because they are likely to have a sense of inner division threaded through their lives, which comes from their often unhappy childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood, which, unfortunately, is discouraged or even punished by many parents. In a practical-minded family, required by their parents to be sociable and industrious in concrete ways, and also given down-to-earth siblings who conform to these parental expectations, Healers come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. Other types usually shrug off parental expectations that do not fit them, but not the Healers. Wishing to please their parents and siblings, but not knowing quite how to do it, they try to hide their differences, believing they are bad to be so fanciful, so unlike their more solid brothers and sisters. They wonder, some of them for the rest of their lives, whether they are OK. They are quite OK, just different from the rest of their family-swans reared in a family of ducks. Even so, to realize and really believe this is not easy for them. Deeply committed to the positive and the good, yet taught to believe there is evil in them, Healers can come to develop a certain fascination with the problem of good and evil, sacred and profane. Healers are drawn toward purity, but can become engrossed with the profane, continuously on the lookout for the wickedness that lurks within them. Then, when Healers believe thay have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement. Others seldom detect this inner turmoil, however, for the struggle between good and evil is within the Healer, who does not feel compelled to make the issue public.
Princess Diana, Richard Gere, Audrey Hephurn, Albert Schweiter, George Orwell, Karen Armstrong, Aldous Huxley, Mia Farrow, and Isabel Meyers are examples of a Healer Idealists.
Last night was very hard.
A close friend of mine is having some hard times in his relationship. It's very sad to me -almost tragic- to know he is feeling what I've been feeling for months over Zane. I want to hug him and tell him he will somehow make it through- but I know with your heart breaking, all you want is your lover. He doesn't have that awful false hope that I did, so that is atleast a start for him. I can't blame his girlfriend to appease myself; I know what she is going through. It sort've makes me realize what I did to Zane. Again, I'm feeling this hopeless, awful powerlessness to help myself and him. I want to scream at the top of my lungs to make myself heard. Every effort I make at reconciling seems as if I'm talking to a deaf person. I'm sure he feels the same way right now.
All I could do was be there for him and hope that the best happens for him. And I do pray for "the best", not for the way he may want it to turn out. The best is open to interpretation at this point. If being with this woman is the best for him, then I will help it happen to the best of my ability. That's not to say I won't do it through gritted teeth: he and I have had a very volatile relationship. I guess you could say I am fond of him and his company; he is a familiar face in a crowd of strangers. He's a great friend. I ponder what things would have been like if we ever got together, but at this point the focus of my efforts are being made to comfort him and be there for him. I know he can make it, either way - he doesn't give himself much credit, but I believe in him.
I've always sound this song rather comforting to listen to during times of heartbreak.
(Photography by Ziltzwiltz; http://ziltzwiltz.deviantart.com )
I love deviantART. Type in how you feel in the searchbox and a brilliant artist somewhere will have a piece of artwork that shows exactly how you feel.
I wish I had a bandaid for my friend.
So, so, so tired lately.
It's like my brain is being sucked out of my head through a vaccuum lodged in my ear. After consuming 1-2 Monsters a day, it works less effectively than before. Today I woke up and was so tired I could barely even dress myself. I guzzled down a Monster, dressed (after taking short breaks laying down curled up on my bed), and then almost nodded off while putting on my makeup.
After school, I went to Arby's for lunch as I hadn't eaten all day. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of falling asleep at the wheel. The sun shining in my eyes didn't help - it made me squint and my tired eyes were already heavy enough. I brought my food home and ate a little less than half of it before giving up and going to sleep. I slept from 12:30 to 5:30.
I had one of those feverish sleeps. The kind where you wake up every now and then, too hot, too cold, clothes bothering you so you have to remove them, sheets messed up, dog howling. You'd think after a 5 hour nap I would be refreshed - not even close. If I laid back down, I could sleep another 3 or 4 easily. And just as I typed this, I yawned.
What the hell is wrong with me? I am more tired than an elderly person.
I suspect that my Fibromyalgia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fibromyalgia may be acting up because it's winter time.
In other news, my American Government Honors teacher is a genius. http://www.itsyourtimes.com/?q=node/3434/print
Yeah, my thoughts exactly.
JESUS FREAKIN CHRIST FOR PRESIDENT!
I agree totally with that, though. I think it is the most ridiculous thing teaching kids theology when it has absolutely no scientific relevance. I can see teaching theology in a RELIGION class, but in science? How does creationism have any scientific basis? It doesn't! Because religion in itself contradicts everything scientists have ever proved about our modern world. The people who wrote the bible? People who thought the world was flat! And who is to say Christianity is inarguably THE religion? Muslims outnumber Christians by a good percentage in the world anyway.
My solution?
Vote LOLCAT in 2008!
I've been listening to The Kill by 30 Seconds to Mars alot lately. It's one of those songs that I think was written by someone in the same situation as me. I don't know how to describe my situation right now.
I feel very numb. I've been drinking energy drinks to get me out of bed in the morning, yet I hate the way it makes me crash a few hours later. Everything feels vague- if that even makes sense. I guess I have learned to accept what comes to me and depend only on myself. But with that ...I find that I am relatively somber.
"Yet I feel no pain; numb to all feeling."
I guess I am at a turning point in my life. I've always been a very flighty person, but now I find that I'm having to confront everything that scares me. It's both liberating and terrifying - I guess the terrifying part is making me feel numb. You know how if someone keeps jumping out and saying "boo" over and over, you get used to it and find it neither funny nor startling? That's what life feels like. Just...suppressed. I'm not complaining too much because I must admit that feeling rather complacent is better than anxious and depressed.
I still occasionally have "mini" panic attacks. There are actually two types of a "mini" panic attack. One is due to subconscious thoughts. I don't ever know why they happen, but they last for less than 3 minutes. Basically, I feel like I can't take in any air, so I gasp. But the more I think about it, the more it sounds like asthma.
And then there are the kind where something is actually bothering me and I don't know how to deal with it. Again, these last for less than 3 minutes, and it is almost never apparent to anyone else that I am panicking. I usually regain composure within a few minutes.
I think this is great progress. In November, my panic attacks were so awful that I lost my job and I could not function at all.
I have been looking back on my blog, too. Reading posts about how I thought I would never get over Zane. It's true that even after all this time, I have a hard time with it, but it's amazing how I came so far in this period of time. I was nearly suicidal, panicking daily, abusing Ativan, and just barely surviving.
I consider being dumped by Zane by far the hardest thing that has ever happened to me - even harder than my suicide attempt a few years back. In a way Zane dumping me was like murder. Not that he had malicious intent, but because it essentially killed me.
But back to the hard thing: if I could survive that experience, I am ready for anything (I think). Thinking of that experience makes me feel almost like my nails are running down a chalkboard or my bones are grinding up against sandpaper.
Aside from that, I've been doing fairly well in all of my classes. This semester is probably either going to kill me or... kill me. My Algebra II teacher gets trigger happy with homework. It's a total nightmare. My American Government Honors teacher, however cool he is, gives killer hard tests (think fill in the blank with no work bank and listing and describing anything from the chapter off the top of your head). My Compostion I teacher at the college is very nice, but the work load makes me want to cry.
Graphics communication is okay, but I find that the teacher is vicious. He's one of those incredibly sarcastic teachers that you either love or hate. Personally, I think he is rather intimidating and therefore avoid him at all costs. I'm just glad he thinks highly of me; I've seen how he treats students that aren't one of his "favorites".
Scrolling through my playlist on ipods, I see the song "Niki FM" by Hawthorne Heights. I had a really great friend two years ago, Jason Senecal-Turner. He lived in Quebec and was probably one of the sweetest people I'd ever met. Back in July, I found out from a mutual friend that he had been killed in a car accident. He was only eighteen. It's just terrible because everytime I hear Niki FM, I think of him. We both loved that song and thought it described our relationship. He always used to muse that he would get a job at the local food market and start saving so he could come visit me in America. I wonder where he is now? I hope that there is a Heaven for his sake.
I won't get into existentialism in this post. I feel too intellectually drained today. What am I going to do with myself today? There is literally nothing to do. I suppose I could get a headstart on my homework, but that would compromise my self-appointed title of Master Procrastinator.
I guess I will go protect my title by vegging out in front of the tv...
Poetry is a great healer. And I know this is a very random comment, but I looked up "struggles" on... read more
on What Lips My Lips Have Kissed