It's Friday

It's Friday. I wish I had a reason to get out of bed.

Who cares that it's Friday? I still have to go to school, I still have to go to basketball practice, and I won't even see my friends today. What point is there?

Tomorrow, I want to see them. I don't care what we do, I just want to be with them.

I don't feel so good. I kinda got beat up in practice yesterday, scrimmaging against the guys. But at the same time, I beat them up too. So I guess we're even. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.

The guy who guarded me, was guarding REALLY close. I don't know what it is about a strong arm behind my back, it's comforting. Last week at practice, I was falling backwards, and one of the boys caught me. And here it is again. A strong arm. Behind my back.

I know that shouldn't feel that good to me. I know that these random boys shouldn't make me feel so good. But I'm 16 and full of hormones. Any touch gives me goosebumps.

Basketball Season

This season.

Basketball season makes me very tired, which makes me very stressed, which makes me very irritable and depressed, which makes my friendships suffer.

I slept tons last night, a whole 8 and a half hours. That's almost twice as much as I usually get. Yet I'm still exhausted.

Yesterday basketball practice wasn't so bad. We warmed up and stretched and did some suicides. Then we did layups and shooting. After that, my coach sent me down to the other gym to play with the guys so I could learn some post position techniques.

I like playing with the guys. It was a little awkward at first, and really hard compared to the girl's practice, but I liked it. First thing I learned is that I need to work on my upper body strength, because I don't have very much compared to the guys. I mean sure, I can beat Dom at arm-wrestling, but this is different.

So, this further proves my theory: I relate better to guys than my own sex. I have a long way to go "basketball-wise" but I think I can do it. I think I can....I think I can....said the little engine that could.

Basketball is alright. I just hope that it doesn't ruin my friendships by making me an irritable person. Sigh...

College day was good. I'm not very good at talking to people I don't know, but I did better than I thought I would.

It helped that there were people there I already knew. It made me feel like I was part of the "network" already. A friend of mine I worked with this summer was there. So was my sister. She's the one who introduced me to all her friends. It feels like old times, when I got all my friends through my sister. I don't know if I like that. I wish I didn't need help making friends. It makes me feel....pitiful.

Still, it was fun. The atmosphere is really nice. I'm a public school kid, so I'm used to guys who are complete perves and girls that are complete skanks. So the Christian environment of this college was really nice. Guys were gentleman. Girls were ladies. I'm not really used to that environment. I wish I could be in it all the time.

So anyways, that was college day. There's a lot more I could say, but I don't feel good, so I'm going to say goodbye.

Goodbye.

Apathy

I'm doing better. Maybe.

It's funny, how on Sundays I feel so great, and then the next day at school, everything goes back to apathy. Everything goes back to, "I hate life" and "Whatever, just kill me now". I wish I was strong and secure. Not like this...

My youth leader said that this last month when I was dating Batman, that I was so happy. That I was glowing. She told me that I need to feel that way from being with Christ, not a boyfriend. And for once in my life, I'm going to swallow my pride and say it. Yes, she is right. She's right! I said it.

So what now?

The Chicken

My throat hates me. My voice is gone. I don't know if it is Pharangitis (however you spell that) or laryngitis (can't spell that either) or maybe just a bad cold combined with yelling on the rollercoasters yesterday, but whatever it is, it got me good.

I've been feeling really lonely. And mad at the world. I just finished my prescription of those meds I was talking about earlier, so I now know for sure that it wasn't the drug's fault. Well, not all the drug's fault. Maybe that time of month is coming on. I hate being Moses (inside joke).

Today I went to my Grammy's house with my family. She has been very lonely as well. A chicken has kept getting into her yard, and just walks around in it all day. She thinks of it as her special pet. She loves that silly chicken so much.

When we got to her house, she was convinced that my dogs and the chicken could stay in the same yard, and possibly even be friends. I shouldn't have went ahead and put the dogs in there. It was the worse idea ever.

Jesse didn't notice the chicken at first, but when he did he started chasing it. In about ten seconds he had that chicken's neck in his mouth, grey feathers flying everywhere. My Grammy was yelling and the chicken was squawking and my dad was chasing the pair of animals, smacking the dog with a rolled up newspaper.

And there I was. Standing there, helpless to the drama unfolding out in the yard. I tried to call the dogs inside, but my voice had retreated to the farthest corner of my voice-box, never to come out again. Sigh...

The chicken was okay, physically. Maybe not emotionally, if chickens have emotions. Poor thing. I hope it's stupid enough to come back to my Grammy's yard and keep her company. I worry about my Grammy.

This next week is going to be busy, and most likely "Hell on Earth". I'm going to miss almost all my classes. And for what? So I can go visit a college. So I can go to a volleyball tournament. Both being excellent oppurtunities to brighten my future. What future...

AGH!!! I need to get out of this mind-set! Geez!! I'm so dependent on other people. And the worst part? I can't even talk to people. I'm dependent on people, but I can't talk to them. What's wrong with this picture? Haha, this entry is more stupid than normal. Shocking.

The sarcasm, the lonliness, the "something-gitis" in my throat. I hope it kills me.

I should go now. Goodnight world.

Like Everybody Else

Why can't I be like everyone else? I'm not like the other girls. I don't wear makeup, I don't use hairspray, I can't use tampons, I can't do anything right. And unlike other girls, I don't radiate confidence. And Tyson's wrong. I'm not one of the guys. I'm just a messed up girl, who relates better to guys than with my own sex. I'm not a lesbian, I promise. I just don't fit in. At all.

My history teacher is the only teacher who likes me (and makes me feel like I'm a normal height). My other teachers hate me. It doesn't matter if I do my homework and don't talk back and never ditch class. They hate me anyways. Everyone at school does. Why can't I be accepted for just being....me?

At the homecoming dance, I was one of the few people that wasn't drunk. I admit, the party life is tempting. It looks like fun. And when people are drunk, it doesn't matter who you are or what you're doing, you fit in. Because the music is high, and everyone has lost their heads. I want to lose my head. I want to forget everything...

See, I told you I was insecure.

I can't breathe

This last month was wonderful. I had someone to talk to every minute of the day and to call "Sweetheart". But I had to let him go, and everything has gone back to the way it was before. Pointless, and lonely.

I didn't want to come back to this person. I wanted to keep feeling happy, and glowy, and like everything will turn out just fine, but I don't feel like that anymore. I feel like...my heart has stopped. Like the world has ended. Like I will never remember how to breathe again.

My mother, always blaming my depression and pitiful state as a side-effect from the different meds I take, even if it really isn't a side-effect. It's as if she can't accept that I'm like this because something is really wrong with me. She has to blame it on the drugs, because that can be fixed. I can't be fixed. "Quick quick, take the meds away. Then my baby will be all better." She's good at lying to herself.

So where do I go from here? I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to breathe. I can't breathe....

Self-consciousness

I've been getting extremely self-conscious, whether it be my acne that comes every now and then, or my height. Lately I've been very conscious about my personality, and how people see me. I realize that I don't talk to people, and that people don't really talk to me. Here at school, I am an outsider. I have been an outsider since school began. I guess that isn't a bad thing. Why would I want to be like those other people? All they do is get drunk and knocked-up. Why should I envy that?

Dominic was calling me fat today. I know he might be just joking around, but it made me feel even more self-conscious. Maybe I really am fat. Have I looked in a mirror lately? I mean, I know I don't work out too much for volleyball, but...I don't know. Maybe I should just take a break from eating for a little while. I did it before, I can do it again.

I want to look good for my boyfriend. I know that our relationship isn't based on looks, at all, but...I still want to look good. I can tell he tries to look good for me. I need to try. I'm going to try.

Help me please...

If you still read these, sigh...I need some help. Spiritually, I'm not doing good. I need some support. Justin, please help me... If you're there, please help me...

My Fan

Last Friday night was the homecoming dance. It wasn't formal, not even semi-formal. I wore a "semi-nice" top and some jeans. One of my friends did my hair and makeup (a lot of eye makeup). And then I went.

The thing is about my school's dances are, no one knows how to dance. We just do whatever feels right, and hope it looks good.

Most of the time they played Mexican music. The thing about that style of music is that all the songs have the same time signature, and usually the same key signature. Plus, I don't know Spanish. So all the songs sound exactly the same. The whole time, it felt like it was just a really long song, even though it must have been at least five.

It was easy to get by, just stepping back and forth with the beat, and moving my body as natural as I could. Sometimes I'd put my hand above my head and circle around, or I'd put a hand in my hair and just shake my hips. I know I'm not a good dancer, but anyone could see that I was no worse than everyone else. Most of the time we just danced in a circle, spinning eachother around occasionally.

There was a point where everyone just broke off into couples. All of a sudden I found myself face to face with TJ, a senior, who was also partnerless at the moment. He took my hand and began to dance, and soon I was spinning helplessly in circles. It felt good. I let it all loose. What did I have to lose? I stopped holding back and really danced. And he liked it. I'd never felt sexy before, but I did now. And it felt good.

About a minute later, I let go of his hand and all of us just started dancing in a circle again. When the Mexican music stopped, I went to the water fountain for a quick break. Soon after, all my excitement was gone. Any energy I had felt before had been sucked out. I went home.

Last night, I saw TJ again. Sort of.

It was the home volleyball game against our rival team. My team made quite the entrance, complete with strobe lights and a paper banner to run through that said "We'll tear you up too!". Dan turned the gym lights off for us, and the red light from the digital clock and the strobe lights had a good effect as we ran through the paper, hyped up with adrenaline.

We warmed up, the game started, and away we went. I played front row only, which makes sense. Back row is okay, but front row is my forte. The front row is my fortress.

When I sat on the bench, I waited, ready for my turn to get back in and kick butt. My game was ON. I blocked and I spiked and I slammed that ball down in their arrogant faces. Any weakness, any defiance of gravity was gone. I was flying.

TJ shouted out my name a couple times. He only did it while I was on the bench, or maybe he did it the whole time, but I was just so focused when I was in the game that I didn't notice.

"Number 7!" Sigh....Good thing my boyfriend wasn't there. Well, according to my parents, "Just a good friend". My teammates would laugh and nudge me, "Ooo, Anne has a fan!" Sure, TJ is cute. But I don't need a fan.

"Paalllmmerrr!" I finally said, "I'm just on the bench Stupid!" But I won't deny, I was secretly flattered. But my good feelings vanished soon after. We lost the game.

As we neared the bitter end, I started to scratch at my arm and wrist. It's times like this that I want to cut, but my nails just aren't sharp enough. However, I left some good marks on myself, and that was all I could ask for. It would have drawn too much attention if I had actually started bleeding.

Back in the locker room after the game, everyone cried. I kicked the wall as hard as I could a couple times. My toes throbbed, but I didn't care. It was just so disappointing. But I lived, and I'll keep living, with a fan or not.

Left Turns

This morning my mom and I got coffee, and headed to the school. As she was pulling out onto the highway, she didn't see the blue car zipping past. I cried out and braced myself for the impact, but my mom slammed on the brake and the lady in the other car swerved away and kept going.

My mom was a little upset.

She kept apologizing for scaring me, and how my great-grandma had a wreck like that and never took a left turn again, and bla bla bla.

When it comes to driving, I'm a little bit more...nervous than others. I have fun when Batman and I go cruising and he speeds over speedbumps, but that's because no one else is around. I'm a little bit more fidgety otherwise...

Deep Breaths

My life is a swirling kaleidoscope of emotion. Maybe, because my emotions control me, or because I am human. Whatever the case, I often find myself wondering how I got to be this way, and why certain things upset me so much...

There's a house by the Catholic church that I pass two or three times a day. There isn't really anyway to avoid it, unless you're comfortable with going out of your way to get somewhere. Every Halloween, this house is covered in decorations symbolizing satan and terror.

This year, the residents seemed keen on creating the most elaborate display of blood, pain, and suffering. Dismembered hands and feet hang from cords, bodies lie on gurneys and skeletons hang on bloodstained walls. A headless corpse is running over a person with a lawn mower. The legs stick out and move up and down, flailing, trying to get away from the pain. Dead bodies are strewn about the driveway, left carelessly; Satan's way of saying LET THEM BLEED.

The rest of the yard is much the same way. I don't want to inspect it any further. When I look at the terrible things in that yard...I get upset. I hate Satan. I hate demons. How could someone like it...How can people celebrate this? It's so awful...

As for other things happening in my life: my relationship is going good. We feel more comfortable around eachother now. I snuck in a hug last night when my youth group leader wasn't looking. Despite the fact that this relationship is so secretive, I don't find it difficult. We'll make it known when we are ready to.

This week is that time of month, and I've been finding myself more emotional about everything. When people don't call me back, or don't keep their word, I've been getting extremely angry. I threw a pen at someone, just because I felt so stressed and he wouldn't listen to me.

I need to take a big breath and relax. Note to self: "Don't get so upset."

Priorites

I feel confused.
My "friend" dropped out of school today. I don't understand. He was the one being harassed. Shouldn't the bullies be kicked out?
Notice, I put the word "friend" in quotes. He's one of those people who pretends to be your best friend for a few weeks and then realizes that there's nothing else he can get out of you, so he leaves.
Oh well, I guess that's just what I get for being stupid.
But he's gone now, so in a way, that's one less thing for me to worry about. I wish I didn't miss him.

So much has changed. I found my Batman. There's quite an age difference, but I don't care. I need someone. And now I have someone.
I feel a neverending ache of guilt. Why do I yearn for material love when God is there? Why have I shoved him away, into some dark corner of my heart? I need him. Will a relationship with someone else make that need weaker? Why can't I set good priorities? Why am I so terrible?
Every text message from Batman brings me a sense of joy. Sigh...why can't I feel that way about God.....

Dear God,
I know I am a hypocrite. I know my relationship with you isn't where it should be. Please help me to focus on you, and to want you the most. I'm so distracted by the world, that I forget. Don't let me forget.

In Jesus' name,
Amen

Say Yes

He likes me.
I really like him.
I love his family.
He's a christian.
I want to be loved.

Dad, please say yes...

Oozing

I feel like there's so much to say, but honestly, I don't want to put all the specifics out there for the whole world to see.

Anxiety seems to ooze from my pores. My mind races with painful adrenaline all day long. I want to slow down, but my schedule is so busy, to slow down would mean consequences. No, I must stay ahead.

Taking my inhaler is more necessary than ever. I got so nervous last night when this person wanted me to call them, I couldn't breathe. A phobia of talking on the phone and then having asthma isn't the best combination.

Sigh...what is wrong with me?

Overcoming the Fear of Failure

I had been slouched on the seat, hiding from the others. They were in the back of the bus, playing some sort of dare game. They made Holli put a bra on her head, Christa yell something inappropriate out the window, Paula eat a booger, and Amber moon everyone on the road. They were having a good time, embarassing eachother and recording every minute of it on their cellphones. I didn't care to participate. In fact, I dreaded it. I just wasn't in the mood to make a fool of myself.

I gave a sigh of relief when we reached our destination. Miami High School.

Their students were just barely getting out of school, so we waited on the bus. Coach Denny took this oppurtunity to give us an inspirational pep talk. Sometimes it seems like she should have been some sort of politician, not a volleyball coach.

She asked us what we do if we knew we could not fail.
One said, find a cure for cancer. Another said, get everyone to believe Jesus. Someone else said, win American Idol. I chose not to answer.

The first thing that came to mind was telling everyone about Jesus. But the second was suicide. I don't understand how my mind can work like this, coming up with two answers that are complete opposites.

What would happen if I knew I could not fail? Would I kill myself? I've never belonged in this world. I've never felt comfortable here. This is not my home. Life is more like being on a very long mission trip, telling people about Jesus, going through hardships, but never feeling at home.

But how I long to go home! Sometimes I can't believe how selfish I am, wanting something that would destroy my family. What a selfish person I am...

What am I really afraid of? Living? If I knew I could not fail at being happy, would I try? Or would I end all of this nonsense right now?

I'm going to try to do the right thing. After all, how can 80 years of suffering compare with an eternity in Heaven? Maybe a lifetime isn't as long as I thought.

The passage from The Bell Jar

"I had locked myself in the bathroom, and run a tub full of warm water, and taken out a Gillete blade.
When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in a warm bath. I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surf gaudy as poppies.
But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, a whole lot harder to get at.
It would take two motions. One wrist, then the other wrist. Three motions if you counted changing the razor from hand to hand. Then I would step in the tub and lie down.
I moved in front of the medicine cabinet. If I looked in the mirror while I did it, it would be like watching somebody else, in a book or a play.
But the person in the mirror was paralyzed and too stupid to do a thing.
Then I thought maybe I ought to spill a little blood first for practice, so I sat on the edge of the tub and crossed my right ankle over my left knee. Then I lifted my right hand with the razor and let it drop on its own weight, like a guillotine, onto the calf of my leg.
I felt nothing. Then I felt a small, deep thrill, and a bright seam of red welled up at the lip of the slash. The blood gathered darkly, like fruit, and rolled down my ankle into the cup of my black patent leather shoe.
I thought of getting into the tub then, but I realized my dallying had used up a better part of the morning, and that my mother would probably come home and find me before I was done.
So I bandaged the cut and packed up my Gillete blades."

This passage from The Bell Jar is a nonfiction passage by Sylvia Plath. It's amazing to see how a person who died over forty years ago could ever have gone through the same things as me. After reading this, I don't think I ever want to cut again....

Worried Sick

My dad is really sick.

He has pnemonia. I've had pnemonia, and it gave me asthma. What is going to happen to my dad?

I've heard of people who have died from pnemonia...

I'm really worried. Scared to death.

Dear God, heal Dad.

Amen

I Hate Crying in Public

Yesterday in my last class of the day, I got a little upset. I'm reading a book called "The Bell Jar". A passage described the process of her cutting herself. In detail. Something snapped inside of me.

Instead of feeling the urge to cut myself, like I usually do, I was filled with disgust and horror. Why would someone ever do that? Why did I do that?! "The Bell Jar" is a nonfiction piece, and from experience, I can say that everything she said was true.

I almost puked.

I put an arm around my stomach and a hand over my mouth. My eyes threatened to spill tears, so I leaned forward, resting my face on the cold desk.

Lucky for me, no one noticed my silent reaction, or if they did, they didn't say anything.

Sitting in the locker room ten minutes later, I tried not to think about it anymore, with little success.

Ten minutes after that, I was standing in a sea of pink.

Pink streamers, pink posters, and a crowd of pink-shirted people surrounded me. The only other time I had seen so much pink was in "Legally Blonde".

The Junior High gym had been transformed into a bustling place of breast cancer awareness. The Junior High volleyball team (with their shirts that said "Ladycats serving up a cure) stopped warming up and stood in a line resembling the breast cancer ribbon. My team joined it, and soon I found myself linking arms with two complete strangers.

Then the tear-fest began.

A family friend of mine (who was also my third grade teacher) stepped inside the gym, which then erupted with applause. Applause for the strong breast cancer survivor.

Tears streamed down her face as she approached the crowd of people on the court waiting for her. Her daughter ran up and hugged her, bursting into tears herself. Somehow I managed not to cry.

She was inside the circle of people now. A poem was read. It was about hope and strength, and overall a very nice poem.

The next girl who talked didn't have half as much self-control. A few lines in, and she was bawling into the microphone.

Anyone who wasn't crying before was crying now, and all I could think was, "I have to get out of here, I have to getout of here..." I wanted to run and find a secluded place where I could let it out in peace, but my feet wouldn't move.

When it finally ended, I told a friend that I was going to run back to the gym instead of waiting for a ride.

Then I was off.

I pushed myself as hard as I could go. People stared as I sprinted away, but for once in my life I didn't care.

When I reached the locker room (which was locked. Ironic?), I sat with my back against the wall, staring up into the blue sky. I knew I only had a few minutes to let it out and pull myself back together before the others drove up, but the tears wouldn't come. And that was fine with me.

I tried to call a friend of mine when I got home, but when the phone was answered his grandfather informed me that he wasn't home. I asked him to tell his grandson that Anne had called, and then I hung up. Maybe it was a good thing. I didn't want to cry to someone over the phone. I felt so soft and weak already.

I'd had enough emotional turmoil for one day.

Sick Dreaming

Sickness has reached my home, ravaging havoc within my father and little brother. It's began to take it's toll on me as well, but going to school is my priority. I can't afford to fall behind now. If only I could keep it from terrorizing my nights....

Night before last, I was awake in bed. Voices came to me, mumbling mumbling mumbling. The dark room echoed with the mumbling. I was certain they were demons, come to eat my soul and drag me to Hell. I ran to my parents' room where I crouched against the bookcase, crying. My parents woke, and turned on the light. They looked at me, a pitiful ball of terror on the floor, more out of curiosity than anything else. Then they went to bed, like nothing was the matter, annoyed that they had been disturbed.

That's when I woke. I felt so cold, and my nose was running like Niagra Falls. I wanted to reach over to get a tissue, but I was afraid of the voices. So I curled up against the wall instead and prayed that the bad dream be put from my mind. But I should know by now, I remember every bad dream, because they are more like memories than my mind playing tricks.

My Sanity

What is it that I want to say? Help me say it.

Be there. Listen. Help me find what I want to say, because I don't know what it is.



But it's there, eating away my sanity like a thousand ants on a dead bird.



Don't be angry with me because I feel like this.



Just be there. And listen.

Different

Everything feels so different. I remember when I would go to youth group three times a week. Now, it's like I have to ditch all my other responsibilities to go. I remember when I would do yard work once a week. Now it's like I never have time for anything. I remember how I used to ride with my sister to school everyday. But it's not like that anymore.

Nothing is the same.

To Disappear

Why do my friendships always end with me drifting away from everyone? I don't want to be alone! But I'm so scared of offending people that I don't start the conversation. I always think that maybe, just maybe, they'll be the one to start talking to me. That they'll be the one to revive me. But that's bull crap! Why should they care if I disappear again? What difference does it make? NONE. I'm done. I'M NOT A FAKER. I'm just misunderstood. Just leave me alone. I want to talk, but if you don't then let me just rot in peace. *breathe in *breathe out *breathe in.....

Life presently

Time is flying by. Last year, each day dragged on slowly. But now, it's all I can do to keep the days here in one place. Sometimes I want to take the day and pin it down to the ground to keep it from flying away, so I have time to blink my eyes before it's gone. Is it because I've lost a friend, or because I've gained so many more?
I feel comfortable with who I am. Playing volleyball, I can fit in. I can do whatever they can do. And they're nice to me. Really nice to me. At school, I can be myself. My sister isn't here to determine who I am. I determine who I am. I determine who I want to be. Her opinion doesn't matter when she is 100 miles away.
There are a lot of things that tear down on me, but those things don't seem to matter as much anymore. One of those things is the fact that I don't pray or read my Bible as much as I used to. It's awful. I know I need to, but it's like I never have time. It's very frustrating. Another, arguments and drama have broken a friendship that I once deemed to be my "life-line". But it's gone now, like dust in the wind. I haven't seen him in one and a half weeks, not to mention that he thinks I'm a fake. I miss him, but somehow I'm fine. Maybe because I know he won't read this, and because he doesn't miss me back. There's only one person he misses.
Band is hard. With this new director, I've realized how much I need to learn. Apparently, my tone is horrible. I memorize all my music to perfection. But it doesn't matter to her, because it sounds terrible. Because I'm terrible. It's a small comfort to know that I am way ahead of everyone else (That gives you a good description of our band).
Overall, everything is fine. Emotions in check. Attitude in check. Grades....not so in check. I'll have to work on that one haha....

Things that make me sad

1. Satan
2. Arguments
3. Broken relationships
4. The sadness of those I love
5. Drama
6. Death
7. My emotions

Things that give me joy

1. God's grace
2. Imagining Heaven
3. Playing the piano
4. Friends
5. Family
6. Knowing that everything will be okay.

School...

Today is the first day of school. Ugh...

It's not going as bad as I thought it would go, but this is how it usually works for me.

First day = ok

Second day = awful

Rest of the year = goes downhill from second day

Dominic and I have the exact same schedule. I haven't figured out yet whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. I'm guessing it's a good thing, because at least I have someone to talk to all day.

Torn to Shreds

Do you remember that diary that I talked about in my earlier entries? Well, I let the friend who gave it to me, read it. He flipped out. Couldn't even finish it. So a couple days later I took my diary and ripped each individual page out and crumpled it. Every heartfelt page I had written, I tore out of that book with a wave of hurt rage.

It had taken me over three months to fill it up, and it took me under ten minutes to destroy. It's silly really (haha, that rhymed), how one little thing like a friend wimping out when you try to tell them your feelings, can influence what you do about it.

I've stopped writing down my feelings. Every diary I write ends up being destroyed because it's so awful and depressing, naturally you just want to burn it. And suprisingly, I'm doing a lot better. Maybe because I'm not writing down and dwelling on everything in my life that causes me pain, it's easier to just forget about it. I just hope that I don't explode from holding in all this emotion. Crying in front of people is scarring and embarassing. I guess you could call it my phobia.....

Tragedy

I'm learning more and more that to trust in people is like inviting Jeffrey Dahmer into your house. People are not dependable. People let you down. People hurt you.

I've decided to put all of my trust in God. ALL OF IT. I used to depend on friendship to keep my head above the water, but I've been drowning too long. God is my rock, and He is the only one who can hold me up. No friendship can save me. So why should I care if I have any friends, or what people think of me? They don't know me. Only God knows me. And only God can help me when tragedy strikes me. Me and my family.

My grandma died last week. I know that she wouldn't have wanted me to cry, but I couldn't help it. None of us could.....
She had been on an oxygen tank for a long time, so we weren't exactly suprised. But when it happened, everyone still felt broken. Especially my grandpa.

Growing up, I always have seen my grandpa as the big guy who always laughs and cracks lame jokes and talks about baseball with my little brother. But when my grandma died, everything changed....

That sunday, when we went to his house, his grief was written all over his face. For the first half hour there, I sat on the couch with him and held his hand as he struggled not to cry. Seeing him in so much pain broke my heart. I'd be suprised if he ever laughed or smiled again, after seeing him the way he was this past week....

My grandma was a great lady. She was always perky and happy and looked out for everyone first, even when she wasn't feeling good herself. She always made these instant mashed potatoes when we came over because she was convinced that we all absolutely loved them.

I remember when I was little, I stayed with them for a week ( probably because of a procedure my sickly sister was getting done). They took me to a children's museum, and they took me to Ferr's everyday for lunch, because I loved it so much.

But the memory that sticks out to me the most is when my grandma took me to an ice skating rink that week. She sat up on the bleacher seats and cheered me on as I slowly made my way around the rink around and around and around. Eventually I got faster, and soon I was zipping around on the ice. After a while I was the only one left on the ice. I remember how I lost balance coming around a turn, and fell down hard. I started crying, and then I saw my grandma run out onto the ice. She picked me up, and took me home, where she scooped me up some ice cream. Soon, I had forgotten all about my sore leg.

I remember the last time I saw her. My sister and I had just spent the night there. The night before we had played an exciting game of hearts with my grandparents, my aunt, and my cousins. The next morning when we left, I hugged grandpa, and then I hugged grandma. And then we left. That was it. I don't even remember if I told her that I loved her, that last time I saw her. I just assumed that I would see her again. But it's over. She took her oxygen mask off that night in the living room, and that's where my grandpa found her the next morning. She was gone......

Aww man, I don't want to start crying again. I should just go now.

Amazing Phil

I stayed up til 2 last night. I felt so crappy I needed to watch some AmazingPhil videos on youtube to cheer me up. He's a great videoblogger, and I'd recommend watching his episodes to anyone. And everyone.

The thing is, I just realized that he looked a lot like Richard back when he didn't dye his hair black, which is kind of weird, since I have a strange kind of crush on this Phil guy. He's funny and cute and from what I can see, he's a great guy. I've watched almost all his videos dating back to three years ago when he had just started. There's so much boy drama in my life. So I pretend I have a relationship with Phil. It's my way of coping.

In a few days I'm going to go to Prescott Pines Camp to work for the rest of the summer. I'm nervous. I'll be with Marie. But I don't know anyone else up there. Well, I know someone else, but apparently he's some perve. But I'm going to ignore those rumors for now. The people who warned me to stay away from him have all abandoned me, so why should I believe anything they say? Exactly.

I hate school. It hasn't even started yet and I'm already dreading it. Sigh...I don't want to elaborate.

There's so much to say, but I don't feel like talking anymore. Goodbye.

I'll Be Thinking Of You

What has this friendship become?

A passing glance. A shy hello.

Now my heart is melting like the snow.

But I know that wherever I go,

I'll be thinking of you.

Sigh....I didn't write that. Matt did.

But I still mean every word of it.....

Sleep Over

Well, I got my guitar! My dad was being super generous yesterday, and just bought me one out of the blue! We aren't rich or anything, but he decided to buy me one. But my guess is, that it's an early Christmas present haha....

Last night I went to a sleepover at a friend's house. There were four of us.

We watched movies and did our nails and ate some real junk food. We watched The Sixth Sense and New Moon. I had already seen both of them before, but it's more fun when you're with your friends.

The thing with The Sixth Sense is that.....I'm not scared of dead people. They aren't here. But the other things that are here that we can't see are just as frightening.....The things that get in your head.......And tell you lies.......And then try to convince you that those thoughts are your own......It's those kinds of things that I'm afraid of......A puking girl appearing in your makeshift tent is nothing compared to reality.

On a lighter note, New Moon was just as awful as the first time. Although, I must admit, Taylor Lautner is a good actor. And totally hot. He has a six pack. And what does Edward have? Nothing. His six pack is airbrushed on. Don't believe me? Just watch it, and you'll soon see that not only is his bod painted on, but that his chest has a bunch of stubble. Eww......Come on, Edward is supposed to be a hunk......

I miss working at Vacation Bible School so much already. It was only last week, and I'm already sad. We are going to go to another town and do VBS there, which is a comfort to me. I hope that it goes as well as it did last year. Sigh.....yeah, I really hope that.

At the sleep over we slept in a tent in the front yard, because Sarah had never been camping before. Does that count as camping? Yeah, I'm not so sure either. But it was fun, and that's all that matters right?

Ok, wrap your head around this. A cup with tons of Mint Chocolate Chip icecream inside, smothered in hard shell chocolate, with a chocolate heart on it, filled with Martinelli's. What would you call that? Maybe a MINT CHOCOLATE CHIP CHOCOLATEY MARTINELLI'S ICE CREAM FLOAT. In a cup. Ugh.....I ate that? I don't think I ever want to eat again. And Sarah added Tabasco sauce to hers. That has to be a sin. The eleventh commandment or something.....

*yawn. I'm feeling kinda tired. Not as tired as I usually am, but still.....Just because I feel more awake when I stay up most the night doesn't mean I feel awake.

Sarah says that in the few hours of sleep we had, that I talked in my sleep. Which is both scary and embarassing. She said that I said something about the speed of something or.......something. Give me a break, my mind doesn't work right when I'm awake, why should it work right when I'm asleep?

I haven't seen my youth group friends in two whole days. It makes me feel sad. I want to see them. Sigh.....

Ha, so that's how the sleepover went.

So without further ado.....

Let the sewing begin!! (Inside joke) ;-)

Get Away From Me

Everything I do is always done better by you.

Everything I say is always put more eloquently by you.

Everyone I love, loves you more than they love me.

Everything you say to me is meant to be demeaning.

Everytime I cry, you just sit and watch.

Everytime I curse, you act utterly shocked.

Everytime I'm happy, you crush my hopes and dreams.

So get away from me.

I said get away from me!!

Random things happening in my life

Sometimes I wonder how I'm going to get through my next school year. I barely made it last year. I have a feeling that this is going to be my last summer. I know that sounds really pathetic and sad, but that's the truth. Probably. I'll have to wait and see.

Vacation Bible School was this past week. I really loved it. I found that I love kids more than I thought. I led the really little ones from class to class, and always had one cradled in my arms or sitting in my lap. But the week ended and now I am missing them so much already. I didn't even get to say goodbye....

I found out that I have a reader, and I hope it doesn't mean I'll be shy when I write in my blog. I don't want to feel like I have to watch what I say. But I don't think I should worry about it. Just let my mind drift and my heart talk, right? ;-)

My diary is almost all filled up. I've had it for about 14 weeks. It didn't turn out as I had hoped it would. It was given to me to write about happiness and light and God's love. But most entries came out as a cry for help. I turned it into crap. Same as I turn everything else in to. And when it's all filled up, what then? Will I continue writing notebooks full of depressing thoughts or will I just stop writing and see if I explode? Because it's not like he's going to give me another diary to ruin......

I keep having nightmares. Last night I had one that I was on a ship that was burning. I was choking on smoke and I remember being on fire and screaming. It hurt so much. How is that possible? That I feel pain from something that is only happening in my mind? I wake up from these nightmares more exhausted than when I went to bed. I actually felt more awake when I stayed up all night.

I'm scared of falling asleep. I wonder what tonight's nightmare will be. I hope I wake up in a cold sweat before the nightmare gets too graphic.....

I just watched a movie called The Young Victoria. That's why I put that picture up at the top, in case you wondering. There was a man in it called Prince Albert. He was handsome and respectful and he could play the piano beautifully.

I've decided to rename my piano to Prince Albert.

So....well, I think that's all I have to say.

My Forgotten Diary

I forgot my diary at home today.
So I guess blogging will have to suffice.
There's a story behind my diary. It was given to me by a friend.
You see, I showed him my whole diary, which had really sad, disturbing things in it.
So he took it and destroyed it and gave me a new one.
It is very special to me.
And I forgot it today.
Sigh....

Sweet Sixteen

Today's my birthday. And as you have probably already concluded, I am sixteen.
You know, I was expecting my birthday to be a little bit more....happy? I don't know. I've just been in a rotten mood. My best friend thinks our friendship is sinking, and this horny guy hit on me, which made me mad. I also hate it how my buddy didn't text me back. It's my birthday, and he just totally stopped talking to me.

Also, I can't drive.

No car for my sweet sixteen.

And when I say I can't drive, I literally mean I can't drive. I almost killed me and my mom on my first drive on the highway. She screams really loud. We didn't crash, but yeah. It really bites.

I wanted an acoustic guitar for my birthday. Guess who didn't get one. But it's all good. I got a digital camera. Kinda wish I could have gotten a real camera so I can make good youtube videos in high quality and....stuff. I'm not exactly what you would call a "techy". I just got a blog because I've watched Julie and Julia too many times, and I want to be famous in internet world.

"Keep dreaming" right?
I don't even have any readers.

ZIP

I'm just writing out into an empty void.
It's my birthday, and no one on the internet cares!!
(WARNING: I MIGHT START BAWLING)
Just kidding, but yeah. I need some readers.
"Keep dreaming"

So yeah, here I am. Sixteen.
It feels the same as being fifteen.
I don't get the significance.....

Starting Over

Here I am. I'm sitting here in French class, eating crepes and listening to Edith Piaf's voice filter through the room. Here I am. I'm smiling. And I'm wearing pink. Ha. Never thought I'd see this day. But the truth is, I am happy. These past few months of my personal Hell are over. I finally see that God loves me, and that I am in his arms. That I am safe, and that Satan has no power over me. Here I am. Satan tries to pull me back, but I know better now then to listen to his lies. Ha...I don't even want to think about who I was. I just want to be who I am now, and who I will be. Nothing else. Here I am. I'm starting over.

Hurricane

I love it.

There's a hurricane outside. Well, for an Arizonan like me, it sure seems like a hurricane. The palms are swaying violently. The rain comes down like icy daggers. And the wind is rattling the door, like an unwanted visitor begging to be let inside. I'm completely drenched.

I love it.

I took my glasses off and put them in my jacket pocket to keep them safely away from the angry raindrops. And then I looked up to the sky, standing in the midst of the tempest. My hair was blown about, and the rain pierced through my clothes.

I love it.

It makes me think of the movie The Notebook. How I love that part, when they are both standing in the rain, in eachother's embrace. How I wish I had someone else. But no, here I'm standing in the rain by myself. Alone.

I hate it.

Red

This past weekend I went to the Rage Music Festival. It's a christian rock and roll festival that goes on for two days, with twenty-five bands, on two stages. I got to see my favorite band, Red, there. Sometimes my friends make fun of me for liking them, because their songs are kinda emo (well, ok. They're really emo). But that's why I like them. Because I know exactly what that guy is talking about when he talks about the struggles and the pain of life. I know exactly what he's talking about. I'm living it. And when I listen to those songs, I feel so much better, knowing that I'm not the only one who feels this way. That I'm not the only one who's fighting inside. I listen to them everyday, when I sit against the wall at school looking up at the overcast sky, and when I feel so alone in my pain that I think I'm going to fall apart, I know that I'm not the only one feeling this. That I'm not alone. They are my heroes.

Must-see youtube videos

Here's a list of some youtube videos that you've absolutely, positively gotta see. Period.

1. Charlie the Unicorn 1, 2, 3. Yes. Three Videos of basically nothing. But it's hilarious. The third one is my favorite.

2. Spatula Madness. By the same person who made Charlie the Unicorn. Again, hilarious. And again, totally random...

3. Miss South Carolina. And you thought you were bad at geography...

4. Mario Kart Love Song. Cutest thing in the world. Unless you've never played the video game, because you won't have any idea what the dude is talking about.

That's just a couple, but I'll list some more later.

Jason the Sandwich

Jason wanted to be like all the other sandwiches. He was a turkey on whole grain with mayo, cheddar, and tomato. Nothing out of the ordinary. However, he had been cut into triangles. All the other sandwiches had been cut into rectangles. Jason was devastated.

Howl's Moving Castle

"Huh?" is usually the answer I receive when I mention the movie Howl's Moving Castle. It's pretty suprising actually, since it is a pretty amazing movie. For one, Christian Bale does the voice of Howl, and if Christian Bale is in it is automatically a great movie, hands down. Plus the music is beautiful. Piano is the way to go. I printed some of the music off the computer and I played and played and played...I love it. It's pretty challenging, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. I wish I could play some for you...whoever you are. Oh, and the movie is a Japanese cartoon. That's probably why no one ever knows what I'm talking about...

Food

I love food! Especially junk food. I eat a bowl of ice cream every single day and somehow I stay skinny(well, compared to some people). Three cheers for high metabolism! Hip! Hip! Hurray! Maybe it's because I'm young, or maybe it's because I run two miles everyday. Or maybe a combination of both. All I know is that I eat junk and I love it. And I don't care if I have clogged arteries when I'm fifty because I don't intend to live that long.

I hate basketball

Well, I hate a lot of things. But what I hate the most is being forced to do things that are pointless, stupid, and a waste of time. Like basketball. Sure, there are those moments in a game when I pack someone, or get to take my anger out on some player by "accidently" beating them to a pulp. But what I really love is music. And my parents won't let me pursue it. They like it that I do music, but they seem to think that my dream is to be an all-star basketball player. I HATE IT!! It's such a freakin waste of time! I could be going somewhere with music right now if I didn't have to go to basketball practice for three hours a day. Geez....

Comfort

I've been crying so much lately, I feel like such a baby. I just feel so depressed. This guy that used to be my friend, and maybe more than a friend, ended up being a man-whore. My sister was in a car accident, and I cried even though she was ok. It just reminded me of my accident, and brought back those painful memories. The worst thing about pain is remembering it later, and carrying the memory of it with you for the rest of your life. Sometimes I wish I could get hit in the head really hard and get amnesia, so I don't have to remember the pain. That would be awesome, other than not remembering my own name. But I don't really like my name anyways..."Anne" One syllable. Suckiest name ever. My kids are going to have cool names like Audrey, Avery, Edward(named after my dad. I'm not a Twilight fanatic). Sorry I'm rambling. But I just like to let my mind drift and just type whatever comes to mind. It makes me feel better, especially when I'm all emo and depressed. Even though no one reads my posts, I find a comfort in writing, and knowing that my story is out there. Bits and pieces of myself. And even after I die, part of me will still be here. Yes, I find comfort in that.

Fireflies song stuck in my head...

...and I like to make myself believe, that planet earth turns slowly. Its hard to say I'd rather be awake when I'm asleep, cuz everything is never as it seems, when I fall asleep...

-Owl City

I don't know what to title this...

Life is tough. And sometimes it seems like you are at the end of your rope. You have no more strength left. You just want to lie down and give in. I need God. I know I need God. I don't know what it is, it just hasn't clicked for me yet. I'm a pastor's kid, and so I guess you would think that I have a pretty good relationship with God. But the truth is, I don't know him at all. All my life, this relationship with God has been forced on me, and I don't know if I ever made that decision for myself or if my parents made it for me. All I know is that I feel so lost. I know that he's there, I just can't...I don't know...I can't grasp this. That God loves me. It just seems kind of bizarre, I mean come on, who could ever love me? A couple summers ago, I saw one of my best friend's cars totaled by a semi. I thought she was dead and I knew that if she had just gone to Hell it was my fault, because I didn't share the gospel with her. But really, I don't understand the gospel. I've heard it over and over again, but I just...agh!!I feel so freakin useless! My life has no point. At all. And it hurts so bad. That moment when the car was there and then all of sudden it was torn apart, the guilt was too much. I was paralyzed. If she had died I would have killed myself. Sigh...I'm kind of morbid aren't I? Talking about death all the time. I'm sorry...

Friends

Growing up I never had a lot of friends. I was the tall, lanky, shy kid that people tripped walking by or got their head dunked in the water fountain by the next person in line. I didn't think that I had any friends at all and up until recently that's how I felt. But as I looked back on my childhood I realized that I had lots of friends. My cousins from Show Low have been great friends that I have known since birth. I have a friend that I've been hanging out with since...forever. We've been chilling and playing videogames since way back when. In the sixth grade I had a best friend that was always there for me and made me so happy.I think she was a bad influence on me, but we had fun and she helped me survive my sixth grade year. I also have a friend that I've known since pre-k. We are always arguing with eachother like an old couple, but I realize that that's because he is one of my best friends. It's kind of backwards, but whatever. I also have friends from band that I hang out with sometimes. They're like my family. And now, I have two friends that saved my life. I was considering suicide and they saved me. I have had so many friends and I have never acknowledged that and it makes me feel ashamed of myself. I always focused on the bad, and never even realized there was good. I always took it that the way those jerks thought of me was how everyone thought of me, and I just feel like I've wasted a good portion of my life feeling alone and worthless and friendless, even though I've always had a group of friends right there with me. Sigh...I feel like a stupid-head. I have friends. And they make my life worth living. Thankyou.

Taking on the position as "housewife"

This past couple weeks my sister has been in the hospital with a bowel obstruction. Scar tissue from a previous surgery had left adhesions along her small intestine. Obviously, this problem kept her in the hospital for awhile and my mom stayed with her there. So it has just been me, my brother, and my dad here at home. My dad, who is a great guy, doesn't know how to cook or clean well so I've spent these past weeks trying to keep this place together. It has been pretty overwhelming, but I've learned a lot from it. I learned how to do laundry(which I never had to learn to do because my mom always did it). I learned responsibilty(taking care of my moody little brother is a big responsibilty, trust me). I learned to not take a break and just work all day (man, I'm tired). Sure, this probably doesn't sound like a big accomplishment to you, but it was to me. My sister and my mom are either coming home tonight or tomorrow, so I don't have to do this much longer, but keeping a house together was a good thing to learn. I just wish my dad knew how to cook, because that is one thing I haven't learned. And I'm kind of getting sick of chicken nuggets and hot dogs. Give me a steak, please! And some vegetables, or something that hasn't been deep fried in hydrogenated oils. I feel like a ball of lard! Well, that's all I got to say. Pray for my sis. Ciao!

Setting out into the new year, the new decade, the new...whatever.

This past month and half have been terrible. One of my best friends, practically my brother, completely blew me off. I thought he hated me. I didn't know what to do. And just because I told him I was in love with him. I wanted to cut really bad. (By the way, I'm only writing this in my blog because no one reads it anyways and I don't care if you do read it because you don't know me and I don't know you and you can't put me in counseling. So there.) But Christmas Eve he sent me a text telling me that he was sorry for all of that and it made my day. I was so happy that he didn't hate me. So now, with my friend back and with my feelings under control I am ready to begin this new year. And I'm going to make it great. Even though life just sucks.

Guitar Hero and mohawks

Today I was playing Guitar Hero with a couple of my best friends. We started talking about the amazing mohawks the computerized rockstars were sporting and we decided to give it a try. On me. Of course.
First, they decked me out in the proper "rockstar attire". Next, they smothered me with eyeliner and red lipstick. Then came the hawk. Oh boy...
They dragged me out to the back porch and made me lay my head on the outside table. They began their work. Neither of them had ever made a mohawk, so I wasn't suprised when they failed miserably. They got a can of hairspray and a bottle of hair gel and plastered my head to the towel. Soon, a big wind picked up, and my head completely covered in goop was freezing!! After we couldn't stand the cold anymore, they held up my hair and we ran into the house to the bathroom, dripping hairspray the whole way.
The next half hour, they tried to keep up the spikes by putting straws in and then blowdrying them. Once again, they failed. But we took pictures anyways. In their last attempt to make the spikes stay up, they had me lean against the wall, and then they taped the spikes to it. Ha. Funny.
We had fun though, and even though they are probably putting those pictures on facebook as we speak (sigh...) I still had a lot of fun. Until I had to try and figure out how I was going to get all that crap out of my hair. That was not so funny...