I miss me.

I miss the girl who knew who she was.
Who was comfortable with wearing goodwill flannels and throwing her hair up.
I miss reading every day while listening to records.
The girl who hardly ever judged and likewise never considered what others thought of her.
I knew where I was going. I knew why I wanted to be there.
I've always been addicted to change, but I never thought I would drift this far away.

I feel like my brain is being scrambled by a whisk.
Everything slowly starts to shut down.
Eyes stop crying.
Mouth stops moving.
Neck stiff and back straight, I go numb to face the pain.

Mindless Babble

I don't cut because I don't want to add any more flaws to my appearance.
I don't starve myself because food is the only constant in my life.
I don't purge because I don't want anyone to know anything is wrong.
I don't write any more and it's slowly causing me to try these.
I can't stand to be around myself anymore, but at the same time I'm falling more and more in love with my taste. But movies, music, and fashion is not saving me from my attitude, my weight, my life. For the first time in my life I have a group. A set place where I belong. I'm going to lose them like everyone else. I'm surprised they've put up with me this long. Each day I grow bitchier and bitchier, testing them -- pushing them away to test my limits.
I know I'm depressed. It's a battle I've been fighting to admit for years. The weekdays just blur by, but the weekends. The weekends are when I live, if not only for the Facebook pictures, I party for the smoke and drink. The feeling of being completely out of control. An excuse for being annoying. I think that's the biggest pro for me, is a blame for my constant running mouth, my bitchy comments.
I can't believe I'm writing again. I cried my way through this but it gives life a little more meaning.

It's always scary when you're happy. You know that what goes up, must come back down.

I believe that everyone's biggest fear is being alone.
I face that fear everyday.

These phases are normal.

Every action has a reaction: every smile, a tear.

Nobody truly deserves happiness if they can't make it work for them.

We all have a long way to go.

Honest Reservations

Doubts flash over and over.

By not trusting myself, I don't let anyone else.

I've learned to expect the worst from people.

Back to that ever haunting wall.

Even writing this right now, I'm putting a wall up.

I haven't written in months.

I block out the positive, focus on all of my regrets.

Every mistake, every possible consequence.

I've let secrets grow in my mind. 

I'm used to letting out the poison.

Always the first to apologize,

but I guess that's out of fear of abandonment.

Things are just too different.

I thought I wanted change but I'm not sure I can handle it.