Empty house

Living with roomates is great. Really, its nice to come home to have some one to talk to. Left overs that you didn't have to cook, and someone to watch the pup.
But sometimes I wish they would all just go away so I can have the house to myself. For the whole day.
Every morning I wake up and peer out the window to see whose cars are still here because sometimes they sleep until five or six in the evening. It's weird. And so the only way I know if they're gone is if their trucks are gone. I beginning to think one never works more than once or twice a week for like two hours at a time. One works all the time managing to have one day off during the week - which also happens to be my only day off, of course. The last one is just recently unemployed but visits enough friends and stuff to be gone at least some of the time unlike the first who is always doing some form of home improvement.
And there always seems to be drama, somehow. Sigh...
So I tend to just hide in my room a lot of the time, emerging usually only when people are asleep or gone. I feel exceptionally like a agoraphobe.

Loneliness

I wish I had a friend to call.
I'm not one to hate being alone. I love my alone time but sometimes (like tonight) I want a friend who I can call without feeling like I'm a bother. Someone not connected to the boy. Someone who is willing to put for the effort in a friendship. Someone who sees friendship as a two way street.

You have to be a friend to make a friend.


I thought I found one but instead I found a broken heart.
I'm almost ready to give up. This one was my last saving grace.

'You have to be a friend to make one', I told him when he asked why I had come.

'I need a friend,' I said when he asked me why I hang out with him.


I don't think he understood that he was exactly what I needed. Or maybe he did and he just doesn't care.



There are other people.
But with everyone else, talking feels awkward and forced. I don't think I know how to cross the bridge from acquaintance to friend anymore.

I'm trying to grow up.


Growing up is hard.

What qualifies as depression?

Image by Yuliya Libkina via Flickr

Do you have to think about killing yourself to be depressed? I've looked at a lot of self questionnaires in the last few months since I really haven't been feeling myself. I don't think about death. Or if I do it's rare and even then it's about what people would think about me when I died. Nothing in there about killing myself.
I cry more than I used to. I lack the drive to get anything done. My appetite changes on a daily basis... but then it always has. I'm cursed(blessed with a fast metabolism. It happens.
Just look at this blog. I've neglected it for months at a time this time. Not because I have been busy as I may have professed but because I felt I had nothing to write about. Nothing has pierced this fog I feel like I've been in.
You may say 'See a doctor'. But I'm broke with no health insurance. So that isn't going to happen anytime soon. I'm trying to get my back fixed first... and my teeth. And pay off the credit card from my root canal from almost a year ago when I got fired.
A friend suggested SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) because when winter goes away I seem to be better. That probably is the case, actually. I'll find out this summer, I guess. Hopefully everything will be back to normal.
The boy hates to see me sad.
I hate to see me sad.

broken...

If I was honest with myself about how I felt about that place. I had fallen in love with the people and the land again. I felt a place where I could always belong again. I thought maybe, just maybe, I had found my Terabithia again. At least a close second.
And then that place turned its back on me. Threw me out to the wolves and broke my heart, shattered my confidence, and maybe even my dreams. It hurts to think about it now. I can't even look at pictures without feeling the ache in my chest where I thought I had found that feeling again.
I don't like it but I needed that place. I thought it could be a constant. That maybe, just maybe, I could settle there for a while. More than just a summer at a time. No more dreaming of the next time. I could be respected and treasured for who I was. I could be trusted to get the work done and be content.
Now all that has soured into feeling of grief, sorrow, and anger just wallowing in the base of my being. I'm afraid to try that hard again. I'm afraid to be rejected that hard right when I thought things were just turning around.
My dreams crushed for a second time. Why do I give people this power over me? Why do I lie myself on the block for them, torture myself for them? It's just a job. Isn't it?
I don't know that my dreams will ever be a job for me. It's just too bad that the job won't let me have my dreams anymore.
That place wrung me dry.

Behind these hazel eyes.

I can't tell him anything.
I can't tell anyone.
I'm broken.
I can't tell him because I can't tell myself. I don't know what to say.
Something inside me is broken. I don't know how it happened. I don't know when it happened.
But the life behind these hazel eyes of mine is dimmed. The spark is gone.
The smile which used to dance continually over these lips now sleeps the day away.
He knows something is wrong.
I want to tell him.
I want to cry on his shoulder and I don't want to feel bad for doing it. I want to wrapped in those warm arms until this goes away.
But instead, when he asks my lips fake a smile and say 'nothing is wrong'
'I'm fine'...
'don't worry'
While inside somewhere I'm screaming, crying to please do worry, force me to tell you, drag the words from my chest where they stay knotted. I'm not as strong as I pretend to be. Make me feel better.
This burden is too hard for me to bear alone but I don't know how to share it.

Trading bridges for those million parachutes

I had big plans for my day off today.

Then I saw something shiny and my productive day went downhill from there.
But at least, it was a good day off.

As I've mentioned, I've been feeling very homesick. Things haven't been going as smoothly as I would like at work. I seem to always be doing something wrong and getting in trouble, being made to cry. But you all have heard me vent enough, here, lately so I won't continue now.

In any case, a song came on my ipod while I was driving to town.
A Million Parchutes by Sixpence None the Richer. She seems to be in the very place I want very much to be in. And I seem to be exactly where she wants to be.

Like a million parachutes
The snow's coming down
I'll lock up the front door
And turn the lights down
In the glow of the street lights
I see them descend
Like a million parachutes
Small men on a mission

[Chorus]
I miss the warmth
And I miss the sun
I miss the ocean
I miss everyone
And I miss the bridges
That span across the bay
Tonight, it seems like ages ago

Like a million parachutes
the snow still falls
The dogs are asleep now
There's no one to call
I'll put on some records
And wait for the light
Under those million parachutes
Now a blanket of white.

I wonder if when I go back home, I will miss this place.
Will I miss the warmth?
Will I miss the sun?
Will I miss everyone?

It is beautiful where I am. The sun is shining, the weather's warm.
The ocean is so close and the sight leaves me speechless and peaceful with each visit.

But I miss everyone. I miss having friends to fall back on. I miss having a shoulder to cry on.
It does seem like ages ago I had that luxury.

Where's my friend?

I'm so far away from everyone out here. Everyone who knows me, isn't here. I need someone I don't have to explain myself to but will listen when I need to explain myself anyway. I never thought it would be so hard.
I feel so socially inept. It's not that I have a hard time making friends. I'm likable (apparently). And yet, I feel nothing but awkward around people. I over-analyze. I'm super paranoid about annoying someone, about doing something that will make someone not like me. And I don't know why. It's so bad that I start to freeze up. I don't know what to do. And so, though I've made a connection - I can't keep it. It's like I'm cock-blocking myself (you know, if I had one.. or if I was talking about sex).
I made a friend. A good friend. It's a work friendship but he's cool. But now, I come back and I can't even talk to him. He's always with the new manager.
...and I'm jealous.
They have all these jokes. I'm not in on anything. I feel like a third wheel. I feel...
Replaced.
I know I'm overreacting. I know it's nothing. But he's my friend... my only friend out here within three hours. No one else hangs out with me. No one else tries to make me laugh. No one else lets me complain selfishly about my 'boss'.
Gah! Listen to me... I'm whining. What has happened to me? Why can't I be self sufficient? And if that is impossible, why can't I depend on anyone?
I just need a friend.
Where's my friend?

Troubles

So I'm single these days. Well for all intentional purposes for me. We have revised the break up to be just a break. I don't know what to do. I can't make just a clean break of it.

I still love him.

It's just not him I see myself spending the rest of my life with.

I wish I did because this would be a lot easier. I want something better. I want a diamond not a ruby - though both are precious. One is better for me.

I think.

I hope.

I just don't want to hurt anyone else.

I know I'm sounding very scatterbrained and vague. It's because I don't really know what is going on, what I want and what I don't want. I'm just so tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of everything.

Tonight, K put his hand on my back softly as he was passing. It seemed to stay there longer than it should have. I took comfort from it and wished for more. Not really from him of course. He's my boss and a cheating SOB to boot. I just miss that soft touch of someone caring.

I want a kiss. a fleeting simple soft kiss.

I want a hug. a long warm comforting hug.

I'm Tired...

I'm tired of the bar.

I'm tired of the drunk boys at the bar that just like to watch me shake my ass.

I'm tired of the drunk boys who want my number and then never use it.

I'm tired of people quitting.

I'm tired of people not following through with their promises.

I'm tired of being tired.

I'm just tired.

I want to curl up in someone's arms and fall asleep before they do. I want someone to let me relax for just a minute. I want a hot bath and a back rub. I want someone to care enough to let me need them instead of the other way around for once. I need to cry in someone's presence and be comforted without them succumbing to tears as well.

I love the sound the rain makes as it falls. Its is even so much better when you are out in it, feeling it hit your skin, hear it drop from dangling tree leaves, and tasting it on your lips. I makes me feel clean - its like crying but without the red eyes and runny nose - so refreshing and comforting. It fills my soul with peace.

The only thing to make it better would be either having my camp staff with me.
Or M...

Oh Lord, how I miss him so far away.

Trying for another home away from home

I'm away with people I don't know typing away on a keyboard unfamiliar with its stiff keys and uncomfortable sound. It's so different. I miss my terabithia desparately. My only consilation is that it's not gone forever. Or at least so they tell me. My greatest fear is that it is and no one will know the love I found for that place as I do.

As much as I try, this place doesn't hold its arms out waiting for me to once again surround myself by the wind in the trees, the hoofbeats in a dusty corral in the afternoon heat, and the cries of girls I've watched grow from daisy to caddette.

I mourn at its almost loss that I fear will disappear before my eyes.

Silence

It's funny that yesterday, after all the excitement of friends laughter and a rowdy night, I was suddenly hit with a rush of being alone. The quiet wasn't soothing and I longed for someone to be there. I tried to console myself with a few phone calls but that didn't quite get it for I really had little to say. I was hoping for the person on the other end of the line to say that one thing I needed to hear, though I didn't quite know what it was. And now, this evening, quiet seems to be exactly what I need. Time to myself with just the sound of the wind blowing in my window, fluttering my curtains.

I have accomplished just about everything I need to for the rest of this semester. I should be at least a little satisfied with myself but, oddly, I am not. I feel a bit like a vacant hole that wishes to remain vacant. I feel that the silence is the most comforting things right now.

My terabithian dream didn't happen this summer. They closed my special place this year, quite possibly never to open again, though I refuse to believe it. Thus, I have a new adventure this summer that will hopefully grant me the same feeling my Terabithia has done for the past eleven years.

The Uglies

I just can't pull myself out of this slump. I feel awful and nothing is working to lift these frown lines that seem permanently etched onto my face.

I think I know what is the problem. I haven't had any time to myself for the last four days. There's always been someone in my room. I haven't been able to hide and bare the uglies. I have this block when someone else is in the room, I can't write, I can't think. I guess I'm just too much of a hostess. I let my guests run the show and I just accomadate them. I haven't had the time to release my emotions, and all this backed up baggage is really weighing me down.

And now that I have the time and space to let it loose, I can't. I have the sneaking fear that if I start unpacking that someone is going to walk in and I'll have to make a big rush to shove it all under the rug. And I might miss something, like a tear running down my cheek and then I'll never get rid of them.

*sigh*

I need a break from people. I need a three hour trail ride. I need some fresh air, wind blowing my hair. I need sunshine and a bubbling brook.

Most of all, I think I need to cry.

But then , why won't the tears some?