Hi, im new to Leftville

Okay, so i remember all throughout high school being bored in classes and passing time by writing with my left hand and doing everything with my left hand out of curiosity.. But, now since im really stuck and forced to become left handed for awhile until full movement returns and pain fades, is becoming quite the task. Im so used to using my right hand obviously but am painfully reminded that it is out of use for at least minimally a month. An needlessly to say, what if full movement doesn't return and im left with the weakness and numbness i have now.. Ugh, what the frick dude! No ones fault but mine, but i have no idea what made me do it, how when i keep everything locked in my make-up box, or even how when i was barely conscious or lucid did i manage to make my way to my box, find the keys which is kept in a different place on my desk in a basket, then go and unlock my box, go to the bottom, an make my way back to the bathroom and engage in the behavior.. or even find my first aid kit which has been closed for almost a year to get that and bandage and wrap everything.. i dont even know.. i guess its just muscle memory for when i was so used to doing it. Kinda scary... i dont know..  but now im left, left handed. Doctors say my tendon has a high risk chance of snapping in the future, but as for now it will cause pain and numbness throughout the surrounding area and some generalized weakness. :[ Flexor tendon damage sucks.

Beautiful Catastrophe

14 Blue Stitches

Okay, so last night.. a total blur! i do not remember anything major! Ugh, i remember having a panic attack and passing out not directly after but sometime in that night. I also remember getting really sick and vomiting and waking up on my bathroom floor. I was downstairs and on the couch until my mom was telling me to go to the sink. I threw up in the sink, after that i dont remember. Nor do i remember the most vital information missing which was when did i post on my websites and when did i even cut? got home around 6ish an the mom said i was in bed by 1140pm, in that 5 hour period, i dont even know what the hell happened... i cant type anymore because my tendon is hurting ...

Beautiful Catastrophe

Ramblings of a Manic Mind

Wow, i'd always thought that one day, the memories will become a little easier to remember, the pain will become more manageable with time, and my yearning will begin to die as i moved on. I've slowly come to realize that i haven't moved anywhere, i just changed what i chose to see. Changed what my mind chose to remember, tucked away anything that held any ounce of feeling, an brought to life a envisioned illusion of my harmless, disassociated state of life. In my delusional day dream, i was achieving recovery, moving past the deep wounds inflicted by others in my soul, well over the temptation to with a blade carve into the my own skin as a canvas once again as it bled out the tragic pain from the past, and the biggest one of all, to finally face the person in the mirror, to stop starving myself of love, to stop feeding the monster inside me that convinced me she cared. I need to let my guard down and start believing that its okay for someone to love me. To know its okay to let someone in and to be myself. To once and for all escape the cage im enslaved in, and to know that outside this safe, predictable, steel cage, is freedom and a life to live regardless of being vulnerable. That i could finally start to trust again... But, i realized; it all turned out to be nothing but an illusion. Different people and the same people, time and time again ended up hurting me. I dont know if i was doing something wrong or if it was just them. I know that nobody is perfect, and people makes mistakes, but to me it seemed to happen all to often and i also realized i self sabotaged myself as well because i believe that everyone will leave sooner or later that i rather it be sooner, than later when i deeply care for them and when it will devastate me. I dont know why it's so terrifying to let someone actually care about you, to believe that they actually care about you. Im so afraid of hurting someone if i don't succeed in becoming who im suppose to be... Im always hit with reality checks, i can never disassociate long enough. I was constantly forced to realize that my family was still the same, my friends were still the same, the world was still the same, unfortunately, i too, was still the same. Still the 9 year old girl. They say at whatever age a person gets sicks with a disease or disorder is the age age the stay at until they recover. i didnt want to believe that, and choose not to. I can hardly remember the past years before 9. Sometimes i get flashbacks of the happiness i felt back then but undeniably, it hurts more than the painfullest memories. Something about losing what you had that never goes away, you always miss what you had back in the old days. New things may come and take your mind off it but it can never replace what you first had. From age 9 an up i consciously had locked them away somewhere in my mind, only to have it flash back at the most inconvenient times in my life. I still sometimes wonder why people tell me that im such a strong person when i feel like the weakest girl alive! Ive tried to take the easy way out so many times, and find different ways to ease the pain but nothing ever seems to work. So i only continue on because its the only option left to me. Plus, honestly i hate taking the easy way out.. masochist qualities seem to present itself in my type A personality an a strong craving for perfectionism. i lack my self worth and innocence sadly, and i try to make up for it in perfection, but i can never quite fill the emptiness for i believe its depth is equated to a black hole. Figuring all this out is so timing consuming, confusing and emotionally exhausting that i chose to just not deal with it. Forget it ever happen, be entirely clueless and ignorant of the truth. i chose not to be affected by it to where i feel the pain. It hard when there are reminders all around. I've had many friends die from eating disorders to suicide. An just the pain of knowing a life was cut short of someone you care about is the worst. i refuse an am afraid to feel it. Im afraid its just be to overbearing and emotionally taxing. Not having control over your own emotions and feelings is terrifying to me. My recent friend's death hasn't even summed up to a year or or 6 months to when she took her own life. Im not ready and too afraid to deal with the pain; so i mentally turned off my emotions to where im completely numb inside and pushed it away until later. I've been keeping a ton inside and stopped writing for over a year which is really dangerous for me. If i dont have an outlet i start "bottling up" my feelings, things begin to spiral downhill from there.. Ive been writing since the 5th grade basically when everything started. My friend had given me a journal for my 11th birthday and that's when my writing really took off, and ive been writing ever since. On the days i cant remember, i flip through the pages of my childhood and before years, momentarily curing the willful amnesia i put in place. What if's are a very dangerous thought to get on, once you start you cant stop. the "what if's" lead you in many directions you weren't or possibly suppose to go, but somehow things turned out for the better right where you're at now. No one ever knows, or will ever know. We only know for today, our present life, our right now moment. My word of advice, enjoy your now before it becomes your then. Dont let the past steal your future or your now. Very challenging words to live by, i know! Everyone has their own cage to escape one day or another, the real question is; did you truly ever escape yours? The truth is hard swallow, trust me because i've tried, eating was hard for me to handle, so i chose to inhale the lies. Always, Beautiful Catastrophe

When the writer forgets the talents she held was in the shape of a pen

I almost forgot how much my soul cherishes writing and how soothing it is to quiet the voices inside my mind. I forgot i was a writer that held talent in the shape of a pen. That voiced the inexpressible, felt the intolerable, and made sense of the incomprehensible. Constantly, Promise is shouting commands and i find myself falling under her scrutiny. Her once so scarce, timid, and unappealing voice has become loud, tempting and a strange form of comfort. I hate when i fall back into her words, holding onto every lingering letter. Following every comma and period, all the way to the end. I had found Christ's voice and for awhile i was deaf to her words, only every now and then catching a glimpse of her in the mirror. Now, it seems as if i were the one being so shamelessly blinded by the lies of others and now aware of the neglect i have left in myself. Hm, i feel ambivalent. Im unable to realize what's real anymore, or what will happen. I hate caring when others don't. I abhor being hurt, and how i always leave myself susceptible to be hurt. i find it pathetic. I was unconsciously unaware when i began digging again, apathetic when i fell into the hole, and completely terrified to stop.. i cant figure out why i still continue to dig for what others might label; my grave. All i know is that im determined to bury all the problems of the past, get somewhere and escape from her. But, how can you out run yourself? Let alone, escape the cage..

If you could read one book for your entire life, which would it be?

The Bible

What do you want to know? Ask me! :)

Do your socks always match?

NEVER! LOL!

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What's the one thing you want to get done this weekend?

finishing my homework and finding a job..

What do you want to know? Ask me! :)