Be My Friend?

Table of Contents:

1. Breathe Me

2. Memories and Music

1. Breathe Me, by Sia. This song will become important later. So look it up at some point, and play it as you read Part 2. For right now, until I change it, it's in the playlist on the right. CLICK ON IT. I'm currently attached to this song. I'll explain why later.

2. Memory, for me, is a very crucial part of existence. I love keeping my personal journal because of it. I want to remember everything, no matter how obscure. I just want to keep my past alive in some ways, not because I thrive on bad memories (which I don't.) BUT its because I've learned so much from my past. Keeping a journal is like taking notes in class. There's no way you can just memorize the material instantly.

Tonight, I went over to ex-boyfriend-but-current-best-friend-in-the-world's house. His name is Jared. His mom, Dy, wanted to see my prom pictures. I decided I'd just stop by for a little bit, just show her the pictures and then leave. But no. Like the idiot I am, I stayed. 

NOW. Play that song. You'll need it. 

Jared had left the family room, where I was showing Dy the pictures. I looked at her, and asked if she minded if I went and saw him. She said it was fine, and so I promptly went down to his room. He was lying face down into his pillows, and after I called his name, he sat up. I couldn't help but just... look at him... just beg him to hold me using only my eyes and my sheer desire to feel him hug me like he meant it...

I sat next to him on the corner of his bed, and tried to make small talk. It failed quickly.

Not before long, I had put his arm around me, and he had his cheek against my forehead, stroking my hair and telling me it was okay. I didn't know what had happened. Had I blacked out? It wouldn't have been surprising. I black out rather often, just mindlessly losing random pieces of my day. But this was different. I felt my face. I had been crying, the hot sticky tears soaking my jacket sleeves and the small patch on his shirt where my face had occasionally rubbed. He kept whispering to me. I didn't know what else to do but keep crying; to keep listening to him try and hold in my soul as his hug around me gripped tighter. 

Or was that me gripping on him? Honestly, I don't think it matters. I just tried with ever fiber of my being to not spill out my entire body and liquify over him. 

Do you ever feel that way? Its an odd feeling, where you're collapsing so much, emotionally, inside, that your physical organs are just going to melt and leak out your skin. That's how it feels to me. My body shakes, aches, destroys itself inside and out.

Now I bet you're wondering (yes keep playing the song.) where I'm going with this, but trust me, its okay. Its going somewhere.

This song, Breathe Me, by Sia, wouldn't leave my head. I couldn't stop hearing the lines, "Be my friend, hold me, wrap me up...."

This is an example of how I record memories. I can't stop picturing that moment... His hand on my head, slowly running his fingers over my hair and whispering to me that it was okay.

Now, forever in music, will I have this memory. Its like how other songs remind me of other things. I link them to songs. Some of them are unintentional. This one turned out to be an accident turned alright.

Now what did I learn here? That its okay to cry out your soul in the arms of a guy who broke up with you a month ago and seems to be doing better than ever without you? No, my friends. I learned something greater...

I learned that sometimes, you have to let go without letting go. Let me explain.

It seems with me, I'm either on or off. I like you, I don't like you, I hate you, I love you, I want you, I need you, I wish you'd die, I wish you'd come back... etc. 

But sometimes we have to force ourselves into a grey area. I know as humans, we don't like to be uncertain about our future. But...

I learned that I have to be comfortable with walking on a tightrope, I have to be okay with not knowing the future or not knowing if Jared and I are going to be okay with being just friends. 

I'll stop now. This post has dragged on a bit, hasn't it?

Prom and Other Things

God these acrylics hurt. Seriously, acrylic nails will be the death of me. I've had them once before, but that time was in about 7th grade, back when I had a nail-biting problem, and chewed them off, pretty much, later in the day after having them put on.

Prom was tonight. I loved it! I went with my friend Matt. I decided to go with a 50's theme, since my dress wasn't exactly a "Prom" dress.

Quite fun, quite fun. Strollin' along~

Anyway. I know I'm not the best at updating, but I felt like making a post for tonight. It was prom night! I HAVE to report on that!

Gaaah... Its such a pain to type... anyway...

We went with our group to a fancy restaurant. Like, fine dining, fancy. I used to do a table setting competition every year at a fair in LA, not to mention, I catered weddings where tables needed to be set, so I knew how the setting worked. Otherwise, I think I would have died. People who didn't know how the cups and forks were supposed to be set, accidentally took other people's silverware or drinks and things got confusing. I was able to keep mine to myself, thank God. 

Then we actually got to the dance. It was only from 8 to 11, so when we showed up at 9:45, I felt kind of sad. I mean, we only were going to stay for an hour and fifteen minutes before they kicked everyone out? Talk about not much time. Taking out the time you would probably need for water breaks, removing heels and flowers and jackets, and getting those items back before 11, You've got about maybe a good 45 minute window of pure party spirit. Not a whole lot, compared to how I usually do dances, be they school sponsored or otherwise. Once we got to the actual dance hall, however, I was glad it was 45 minutes. The place was so packed, that people were huddled together like penguins in the Antarctic. 

You could hardly move without someone jabbing something into your side. Or, if you had taken off your heels, jabbing something into your face. I accidentally stepped on a girl's dress without realizing it, and I'm pretty sure I ripped part of it. When the song quieted, I heard a slight tearing noise as she walked off, and I felt something move from under my foot.

Anyway. I also saw a lot of my friends. And a few people who don't like me. But that's another story for another day.

<3 Lisa 

REMEMBER ME?

To my Almost Lover:

Yeah you, Remember me? That girl that you gave your life to?  You know, the one that you loved for so long because you finally felt free of your chains when you met her? Well guess what, She's here. I'm right here. I never really left. I've been standing right behind you while you've been talking about how you have a lot of problems you don't know how to fix, or just can't fix. Look, I love you dearly. I love you so much, that I'm not even sure how to state exactly how much I love you. Regardless of whether or not that love is platonic, I'm still here. Where did YOU go?

I can tell you. You went to hell and back. You saw the edges of the earth and walked around them, full knowing that you could push yourself off of them and die, end whatever it is we started. You would just have to face the results wherever you went, and God only knows how much easier they'd be if you weren't here. But no, you survived, just like I knew you would, and just like you hoped would happen.

But guess what, Its not enough just to survive anymore. You have to breathe. Going through the pain you're going through is like being stabbed. It, quite literally, FEELS like a stab to the chest cavity, even for me, and I'm just WATCHING you deteriorate. If you get stabbed, you can still live. You're still surviving. But you'd be a damned fool to not go to the hospital with a six inch blade sticking out between your ribs. The same thing happens emotionally. You can sit there and take the bleak future, the completely necessary break up, the year-long wait, and all your troubles and you can pretend that you haven't been hurt. All you're doing is letting the blade rust out your insides, poison your blood until you can't feel anymore, and eventually, the disease that kills you is your own insanity.

Get help, please. Its not something I can do for you, though you know I desperately wish I could. You can't keep walking around on the brink of something terrible simply because you think you don't need it. I'm here to tell you that you DO need it. You're not yourself. The light in your eyes that I fell in love with is gone. You say its there, just recovering, but I know its not. You don't act like you. Today, I held you close, and told you to get help. You couldn't look in my eyes. When you finally did, I saw a flicker of that light. I know you're in there.

I know you can come home.

Its been a little while...

I can't specifically point out what I'm feeling, but I can give you a general outline.

Basically, I know all too well that the lines between hate and love are very thin. Especially when you hate someone. I feel like I've crossed that line a lot recently.

Its like, hating someone so much, that you just have to know every gruesome detail of their lives. Now I'm not a stalker, but that feeling plagues me often.

Its like, wanting to know what they think about you while still remaining anonymously off to the side; like while they invade a special circle of mistrust and dislike in your mind, you're secretly invading their one private sector, where they believe no one can hack into.

I never do it, but I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that I want to.
I want to find out the secrets of the minds of the people I don't particularly like. Its like the saying goes:

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

Now, I don't have a long list of people that I have this feeling toward, but its enough that I think about it sometimes.

I think if I count it out, I have a total of about three people that I almost always have a want to invade their personal circle. I never do it, but its still there.

I probably sound like a stalker... Some weirdo stalker chick who does nothing but scare people off D:


Anyway. I figured I'd share. Peace. Love. Hope. All that jazz.

Why March First?

I was thinking about the whole Jared-and-I-breaking-up thing and just remembering why we were doing it in the first place; his mission.

Jared has an older brother named Dallin. Dallin was supposed to go on a mission, and on March 1st, about 2008 or 2009, broke up with HIS girlfriend at the time, Alex. I love that girl. She's awesome.

Jared broke up with me on March 1st also. Coincidence? Well, I don't believe in coincidences.
I don't think Jared did it on purpose. I think it was just him not really thinking about what date it was. But whatever the date, I still take this with caution.

Dallin, after breaking up with Alex, fell into the hands of another girl, didn't go on his mission, and now is being emotionally beaten into submission by this new girl. Alex, from what we can tell, has been seemingly forgotten from his life.

I know Jared isn't completely like his older brother, but it still scares me that He and I are falling into the same pattern of Alex and Dallin. I just really hope that this solves itself. I'm really scared in a way, that some random girl is going to come out of nowhere and tackle him into something he doesn't want to do.

On top of that, I don't want to see him stay home from his mission for her.

So March First. Its kind of scary. Its actually REALLY scary. It almost makes me wish that I could believe in coincidences.

Anyway. We'll see how this turns out. I'm definitely going to call Jared out on it if he falls into some trap. He'll need me more than ever at that point.

Day One: Nausea and Junior Mints

Notable events:
- Dad showed up last night, but I didn't get to see him until after school today.
- Took the first of my medication this morning.
- Watched Community and 30 Rock re-runs with the family. No one really laughed. I love those shows.
- Ate Junior Mints during the shows. Everyone else had ring pops.


Nausea plagued today. I performed my monologue. It was great. I got a lot of laughs. How ironic. I perform humor best when I'm crumbling.

I learned the first time around that Zoloft puts a cap on the top and bottom of your emotional bar. I like to think of it as a lava lamp. The lava goes up and goes down sometimes, just like our emotions do. Zoloft takes the lava out and puts it in a jar. You still feel SOME things, but you really don't go anywhere.

I judged where my emotional cap goes. It stops under my eyes. I know that probably doesn't make sense to anyone, but really, it does. I had a moment where normally I would have been overwhelmingly joyous. The happiness stopped right at the bottom lid of my eyes, like I was standing in water that only went up to there.

As for the low, It stops at about my collarbone. I think I generally stay in my neck. that may seem pretty high, considering you usually sit in your feet when you're depressed. Its not high at all. Joy should be out of the body.

Anyway. You'll probably see more and more of my coherency fly out the window. As seen in my previous post, I pretty much lose my ability to think logically. My stories don't flow, I change topics often, and I can't think straight for the most part.

I can fake it well enough to not fail at school, but its pretty difficult to actually think clearly. I'll usually make strange similes and metaphors that don't really make sense, but if you're in my mind, they really do.

Anyway. Junior Mints are my favorite candy ever. Especially when they're frozen.

The Second Try.

Copied out of my hand-written journal:

October 3rd, 2010

"I guess life has been interesting. I'll feel good for an hour before I rememeber that its the drugs that make me feel like that. Then I sit there and wonder how much of my life is a lie, all while still obeying the cap on my emotional odometer. I hate it. I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

October 9th, 2010

"You know that feeling you get when you know you should feel bad for someone but you frankly don't give a flying f*** if they're happy or sad? I told you I'd write today. I bet you thought I wouldn't, but the joke's on you, because I DID. So suck on that. Remember that time I took that asian girl's seaweed? I took the wrong bus that day. I hate my medication. I can't feel anymore. The only thing I feel is the disgust I have for it, and even then, its not enough to get me to stop taking it."

I'm returning to this. The anti-depressants, that is. 

Its awful, its like turning on the hose full blast, while putting a clamp on the end of it so only a little bit of water comes out at a time. 

But you never burst. You just have to wait until you can turn off the water, until the creatures in the night go away, and the bad news stops coming. Then you can take off the clamp and hope you can handle the after-pill nausea and not vomit out your organs for a week or so while your body adjusts.

Its a nightmare, but it stops the pain.

An Overview of Today's events

I guess tonight could be worse, but its still not fun.

Today, the Seniors didn't have to go to school because the Juniors/Sophomores were doing either the ACT or the ACT prep so I went out with my Grandma for lunch, a bit of shopping and a movie (We saw Just Go With It. Not bad, really. I might just get it on DVD.) I got a new dress, which I promptly put on upon arriving home, curled my hair, and did my make up just to make myself feel even more special.

For those of you who don't know, I only wear dresses/skirts when I feel really happy or I feel really sad. Happy, because it sort of mirrors how I feel on the inside; beautiful and joyful. Sad, because I feel the need to improve my morale. The idea is that if maybe I make the image in the mirror beautiful and joyful, I'll start feeling that way. Not to mention, my friends tend to compliment me when I actually put an effort into what I'm wearing/look like. When I wear a dress, it helps to alleviate my sour mood; people compliment me. It makes me feel better when I feel my worst.

Anyway.
I got fancied up, then arranged with Jared's mom to hang out with their family at his house. (Jared, being my boyfriend, of course.) Excited, I examined myself in the mirror one last time before I sent him a text letting him know that his mom told me I could come by later.

He texted me back saying he wouldn't be there. His mom had earlier told me that he would. (I think it just had slipped her mind, though.) I felt crushed. I wondered what it was, so I asked. I was informed he was going to the movies with a friend. He didn't specify who when I asked, either, which only hurt more. I wasn't trying to be intrusive, but I just wanted to know if it was another girl. If he wanted to go out with someone else, couldn't I have known when he made the plans? Shouldn't I have known?

I think what bothers me the most is that I never get asked out anymore. I don't think I've ever been out with him on an occasion on which HE'S asked me to come with him. No, lies, I remember once he asked me to come with him to his Special Needs Mutual to meet the special needs people he helped out with. (He's a mentor, not special needs.) But at the same time, I don't remember if he asked me, or if I asked him what he was doing, and then when he realized I wanted to see him, asked me to come along. I don't even remember if I asked him if I could go with him, either. I just remember going for him.

I know I told him I'd be out with my Grandma today, but I am always home before 5 when its with my Grandma. I assumed he was free since he didn't ask me if I wanted to do anything, and I literally hadn't heard from him all day. In the least, if he really wanted to see me, if he really wanted me at all, he could of asked if I had any free time during the day. The ONE DAY we have off of school, he could have asked. He didn't.

So I cried on my couch for a little while, wiping away the mascara trails and adjusting the fabric on my dress. I just kept looking at my phone, thinking of who I could see instead, maybe fill my time doing something instead of talking with him. I saw the number of a friend of mine, Matt. I had my thumb over the green call button before I just stopped. I didn't want to see anyone else. I didn't want to do anything else. I prettied up for nothing except staying home and watching my younger brothers kill each other on Halo and Call of Duty.

I put my phone down and looked at the time. About 6:20. I still needed to find out what my schedule was for this week at my job, and I figured if I wasn't doing anything else, and they were still open, I might as well call and find out. Productivity would help my mood, right? I called in, and my friend Hillary informed me that instead of putting up hours for me, there was a note that said for me to call my boss. I took a hard gulp, copied down the number she gave me, and called immediately.

No response. I left a message, a quick, hard message and a polite plea for a returning phone call.

I'm desperately afraid he's going to let me go. I immediately went to a website Jared's mom had given me to another place that was hiring and submitted an application out of fear. Even if I'm not getting let go, putting in the application calmed me. I needed to know for myself that I was taking action for a preemptive and possible loss of a job.

So that has been my day. Honestly, if things don't improve, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want to go to school tomorrow, but really, there isn't much I can do at this point.

I suppose I just gotta lay down on this wheel of fortune and wait for the masses to start throwing their knives at me. I'll let you know if they miss.