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29 September 2010 @ 02:12 pm
 I should never go back and read my journal entries, especially my "on the edge of a cliff" "hanging out on the back of the Titanic" journal entries. I know it's not a good idea. It's never a good idea. All I wanted to do was look for some quotes I had put on the bottom of one of the entries but I couldn't remember which one and now I'm sitting here reading and reading and reading and I can't stop. It's like watching a train wreck in reverse. I know what happened, I know why, I know all the "I hope it get's better than this"s and the "please let this be the last time"s weren't the last. I know. And I keep reading. And thinking, and reading, and thinking and typing and I can't stop any of it.

confessions and revelations and a lot more truths after the jump.Collapse )
15 July 2010 @ 02:22 am
While I was at the beach last Saturday, I had a pretty good time. I swam a lot, and built sandcastles with Emma Rae, and watched Justin skimboard. All up until about twenty minutes before we left. This guy came and sat down near us. I ignored him, he ignored me, but I kept getting this feeling in my gut that this guy wasn't just any guy. This was Ryan, Ryan Andrew Mills. The boy who led me down the primrose path straight into self loathing and hate. Who stole every innocent ideal I used to have about love. Naturally, I was terrified. Couldn't breathe, scared stiff, terrified. But I wasn't about to say hi, not when I haven't seen him since 2007, and haven't spoken to him since 2008. It just wasn't happening. Initially, I prayed I was being crazy, but after waiting, and watching out of the corner of my eye, I was convinced. Honestly, it would have been easier if he would have gotten up and moved, or hell if he was there with his wife and kid, I could have handled that. But that sort of shock. It only makes you terrified, and desperate to get out, to run. I have no idea if he figured out that it was me, but he did sit there a while, and my mom and sister still look the same. It just sucks, so know that you've come so far, that you've grown so much, that you are nowhere near the person you used to be, and with just one glance you feel like it happened yesterday, and not two years ago. Honestly, I hope that I was just being paranoid, that I'll forget this encounter and that I won't see him for another two years. But I did move back, and it's pretty amazing that I haven't seen him since I have.

Sometimes, I wish August 29 would get here faster.
So you know when things happen to you that you don't talk about. That no one talks about, that get stuffed into a special box. Like the time you had a major meltdown and you were almost taken to the hospital. The problems that just sit in your life and steal the oxygen from you, and make everything feel so much more awful. The things that don't get spoken about, that you don't speak about, that everyone else just forgets, except for you, because you can't forget, you can't move on, and you can't talk about it. So you don't. You can't, it's too big, too much. It makes you breathe too fast, and forget that you are better, and that it's all over. You got better. You just sit there, quietly praying that one day, the weight holding you down will go away.

I still can't talk about it, not even four months later. But I can write about it, sort of. So that's what my inspiration has always been. The things that I don't really talk about. Like the honest pain that comes from living in a household that practices the Children are Seen and Not Heard child rearing strategy, and being an outspoken, eloquent person who can't just lie down and be walked over. Some people use their summers to find boys, I use mine to clean the skeletons out of my emotional closets. To each his own I guess.
.Mood.: draineddrained
.Music.: limousine, by brand new.
Guess what! I HAVE A TUMBLR!!!!! SO FOLLOW ME Be Outrageous. Also? I'm getting a cat, and naming her Elladora, aka one of the founding members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. GET JEALOUS. Tomorrow, I'm going to a local animal shelter to start the hunt, but after I see Eclipse (I'm gonna LAUGH AT IT) at AMC for $5, thank you cheap movie theater, for being the oldest one in Lee county and dropping prices so you can get business.
Wow, I've really been absent from livejournal since Texas, like I've only checked my f-list once. It's weird, because my online life has kind of been my sanity for the past six years, so this is a sort of update post. I guess.

I'll start with the reason I left Texas. My Grandmother died on May 21st, and so I was shuffled to my Aunt's house for that weekend and went to the zoo and museum with my Uncle, my cousin Brian and his daughters Brittany and Rylee that Saturday and then we (Uncle Fred, Me, Brian, and Rylee) took the thirteen hour road trip from Houston to Panama City, Florida for Granny's funeral. Honestly the whole week was fairly awful, other than making sandcastles with my best friend, she's 17 years younger than me and gives the best hugs in the family in my honest opinion. Hopefully she (aka Rylee) and Brian still come down in July.

Since I've been back I just haven't wanted to deal with fandom, it just feels like a huge fucking mountain I have to climb and I'm so fucking burnt out. and I'm sorry I've just dropped off the face of the earth. It doesn't help that I don't have a phone anymore either because my blackberry only shows the hourglass of doom and freezes all the time so I just turn it off. It also doesn't help that I live in hell. And I want to tell you all about it, because it hurts to keep all this hurt and anger caged up inside all the time but if I start that I'll start crying and I won't stop. Because it doesn't matter how old you are, if you're ten or fifty or twenty, it's never easy to come to the realization that your family hates you.

I really just want to cry right now, because I don't have any good news to tell you all. I'm on the verge of being disowned from my family, and from being kicked out of the house. My 2nd favorite Uncle died May 28th but we didn't get to go to the funeral. I can't find a job, and I would rather stick a light saber into my eye than be in my house for one more day. I'll update more later because the only things I can think of are complaints.
.Mood.: depresseddepressed
.Music.: four winds, bright eyes.
18 May 2010 @ 11:56 pm

". . . and it always felt like a lie,
a fallacy, because even in her wildest,
happiest dreams she knew, love this perfect,
this honest, could never be real
.Mood.: coldcold
.Music.: hey (pixies cover), by bedroom walls.
I'm so angry. I hate you so much, because for every knife you stabbed through my chest there were three more in my back. Foolishly I thought that you never meant any of it, that I was just seeing things, imagining slights that never actually happened. But they did happen didn't they? I wasn't crazy, like you suggested. I wasn't imagining. And you were wrong. YOU WERE WRONG. You took my dreams and you crushed them like broken glass. You did everything wrong. I never deserved it. Not then and not now. How could anyone be so selfish? To steal from a child, to let me believe that no one cared enough about me to insure my future. To use thinly veiled barbs to keep me in line. To lie about your past. To continue lying about it. To do all those things, while only one person tried to stop you. I thought I hated you before, but now I know without a shadow of a doubt that I didn't hate you enough. You took everything from me, and you did it willingly. I might have been able to forgive you before. But now, I can't and won't. You ruined everything, you took everything. I thought I knew what rage was, that I knew the meaning of the abuse of power. But I had no idea, and now? I don't ever want to come home, because I'm not ignorant anymore, I know everything, and it will never be the same. What hurts the worst though, isn't that you stole, but that you knew the whole time what the consequences were, and that because of that I have to pay for it, and you still don't care. You took what wasn't yours to have, you took that money, the only legacy that I would ever get. And now I'll never be able to think of Papa without thinking of how my own parents stole the only gift I would ever receive from him. But what hurts the most is knowing that if Aunt Pat wouldn't have told me, then I would have never known.
.Mood.: crushedcrushed
.Music.: snuff, by slipknot.

Being in Texas has been extremely eye-opening. I've found out about a lot of family secrets, and the can of worms I closed when my Papa Cannon died has popped open.

Watching someone die by inches is awful. Because that's what's happening to Granny, a slow march right into the grave, we've given the DNR order, stopped the treatment of her pnemonia, and are sitting around waiting for the inevitable. Two of my Aunts and my Mom are delusionally waiting for a miracle that won't ever come, but Aunt Pat, my Dad, and I have accepted that it would be a miracle if she lasted for seven more days. It sucks, but honestly I'd rather it happen quickly, because being locked inside your own body is a Hell I wouldn't wish on anyone. I'm just glad we're letting her die with dignity. We just took her off the blood thinners that she was put on to prevent another stroke, and are upping the morphine to keep her calm, but between the fever and the fluid in her lungs along with being in the equivalent of a vegetative state, it's near impossible.

Aunt Pat told me yesterday that my Papa Cannon started a college fund for me when I was two, but my parents stole the money so he canceled the account. It really hurts to know that the financial problems that have arisen because of the lack of planning on my parents part could have and would have been moot if my parents wouldn't have been so greedy. It makes me so angry, but mostly it just hurts. Because not only did my Papa teach me how to ride a bike, open and crush an aluminum can, peel an apple, sneak cookies, how to give the best hugs, how to make a bonfire, and the importance of trying my hardest he also was the only person in my life who set up a safety net so I could follow my dreams. And my parents took that away from me.

(more fun awful tales from the crypt tomorrow.)

.Music.: snuff, by slipknot.
11 May 2010 @ 12:27 am
Okay, so I'm letting everyone else know about this tomorrow, but I wanted to let my LJ friends to know first. Basically I'm moving from my parents house in Southwest Florida to Houston, Texas on Friday. I'm moving in with my Aunt to help with my Grandmother, and as of now I'm living there for the foreseeable future. So, more to come on that tomorrow, but because that's sort of depressing, I'm giving you a gift. A GIFT OF MACROS.

So that's why Jared's kissing the rooster.

Tyra Banks isn't the only one who is FIERCE.

@IAmCastiel has an important public service announcement.


there is no 'ugly' side to @mishacollins. @mishaTRUFAX

even @mishacollins doesn't understand the lack of @IAmCastiel in the past few episodes of #Supernatural.
.Mood.: awakeawake
.Music.: iron man, by black sabbath.