Are you fucking kidding me. I moved in here trying to get away from the drugs and alcohol that I don’t want to be around and know I’m constantly around it and when we don’t want hard alcohol in here you fucking bitch about it on social networking and don’t come up and talk to us and then say this is your fucking Apartment. I let you have weed pills and all sort ofahit in this apartment. Fuck you. Get the duck out
do you ever just want to redecorate your bedroom and change your hair and all your clothes and completely reinvent yourself but then realise it takes time and money then retreat to your bed and hate who you are
Okay. I’m fucking tired of you. I’m tired of you trying to move in on Ryan. I’m tired of you being around. You can fuck right off you fake fucking bitch. He doesn’t fucking want you otherwise he wouldn’t be in my fucking bed. You’re lucky he’s nice. Enjoy sitting next to him now you fucking cunt.
Maybe I’ll die soon, like in a some obscure accident. I hope so, honestly. I’m so selfish. I want to die so people will miss me. Because right now nobody even talks to me anymore. I’m on rocky terms with everybody. I feel like everybody’s been talking about how horrible of a person I am. I can’t believe I was so fake and didn’t even realize it. I talked shit on everybody I hung out with. I’m such a horrible fucking person. I know karma now. True karma.
It’s hard to admit how much of a piece of shit I am.
A lot of stuff has happened. I’ve been seeing a therapist, she’s nice, quiet. She hypnotized me, or tired. She said I didn’t reveal much. She said that means my preconscious notions are scared of being found, or something like that. I was diagnosed. And I’m kind of scared.
Psychosis: Psychosis is a loss of contact with reality, usually including false beliefs about what is taking place or who one is (delusions) and seeing or hearing things that aren’t there (hallucinations).
Causes, incidence, and risk factors
A number of substances and medical conditions can cause psychosis, including:
Alcohol and certain illegal drugs, both during use and during withdrawal
I’m seventeen. I work full time at Steak N Shake. I graduated early. I have little to no social life. Things use to be different. Things change. I have a boyfriend, his name is Dylan. I hope things work out and he’s not just another “fling”. I seem to be having a lot of those as of late. I live in the heart of Missouri. I use to never be in the town I reside in, now I’m always here. Good ole’ Jefferson City. I guess it’s what you make of it. I have a mother and father that I love very much. Sometimes though, I feel that as though that love isn’t mutual. But that’s okay, I’ve put my parents through shit people couldn’t possibly imagine.
Everybody has those demons, everybody. Everybody gets fucked up in the head at a certain point. I don’t want your sorries nor your sympathy. I literally just want everything to be okay, and it will be. I still have a lot to go through, I’m still young. It sucks that I had to grow up so fast but most of the ordeals I’ve been though I brought upon myself. I need to get rid of this “crutch”.
I’m not sad. I’m more angry than anything. But for the most part, I can comfortably say that I’m okay. I’m content. And some days, I’m even happy.
I haven't spoken to Jake in a while. I sent him a message on facebook.
I figured this would be too long to text so facebook will have to do. I don’t know what you want from me anymore. And there’s a couple of points I want to make to you, and this is just me being completely honest because it is tearing me apart.
Yes, I know, I’ve been seeing a lot of guys recently, a lot of guys. They all leave me because I won’t put out, minus Bryan. It’s pretty obvious that I started seeing all of these guys when me and you stopped being close. There wasn’t any warning. And I’ve come to the conclusion that me dating/seeing all of these meaningless pieces of shit is my way of coping with the loss of you.
You keep asking me what’s going on with me. I really couldn’t tell you how I’m feeling, but I know why I feel this way. I have lost fourteen, FOURTEEN friends that I was once close too. Lately, I’ve been wondering, why not me? Why them? Why not her? Why not him? Why them? Constantly. I don’t know how I’ve stayed so okay for so long. I cannot handle being around people. All I think about is each and every single face of the deceased. Laying in that uncomfortable position, with their arms crossed. Blank expressions. Lifeless. I’m amazed at how long I repressed all of these images but I can’t take it anymore. I can’t.
When I’m driving by myself at night I think about unbuckling my seatbelt and jerking the wheel. Every single fucking time I drive at night by myself. Since I started driving. It seems so simple. But I can’t. I can’t. And I hate that. I hate that people care so much that I have to continue to deal with this, whatever this is. Complete anguish? I don’t know. I can feel myself going crazy.
I drink and smoke by myself in my room every single night. Drinking lets me cry, I could cry all night if I’m drunk, and I love that feeling. I feel like all the tears I should have shed over the years is being shed then and now. From my dad, my friends, the deaths, everything. I feel like I’m getting everything out, and it feels great. But sure enough, when I sober up, or wake up with red puffy eyes I feel the same as I did. I smoke to think about the stuff I would repress. Memories. Some are happy, and others are kind of horrific.
I didn’t want you to know any of this. I didn’t want anybody to know any of this.
And I can pretty much guess what you’re going to say to all of this. But I had to tell somebody.
I'm tired of trying to explain to people all the bad shit that has happened to me.
No, you don’t and will never understand what I have been put through. I am so sick of everybody trying to one up everybody else. Nobody knows half the shit I’ve been through. I’m certainly sure only a select few people will.
Not saying that I want people to know, but I need to tell somebody, anybody. I can’t go into detail about anything anymore. I wish I could erase memories. I wish I didn’t go through any of the shit I’ve been through. I repress it all a lot but I can’t anymore. I can’t do this.
I’ve seen so much death.
Cody, I was 8, he was 6. I don’t remember anything.
Micah, 6th grade. Drowned in a river. I was suppose to go with him to the Slab that day to hang out with him and his sister.
Trent, herion overdose.
Josh, drunk driving.
Michael, car accident.
Kevin, drunk driving.
Adam, I sat there, and watched his heart explode within his chest. I sat there and watched him die. Zach and I couldn’t do anything but scream.
Jake Fletcher tried to take advantage of me when I was only thirteen years old. He was nineteen.
My dad has done drugs all of my life. My mom works all the time.
I got facial reconstructive surgery over a year ago because I got jumped and my cheek bone, eye socket, and nose was shattered.
I went to rehabilitation.
I miss Lexi.
I hate my whole fucking life but at the same time I’m great at pretending I’m perfectly fine with everything. Literally no one has any idea how much I cannot stand being around. I joke and laugh and smile constantly. Nobody knows that something is always tearing my heart up, picking apart my brain. Eventually I’ll be bones in the ground. I can’t wait for that day to come.
I honestly don't consider myself close to anyone anymore.
And that mostly my fault. I pushed away everybody that cared. I really did. I hardly speak to Jake and when I do it’s brief. I only see him at shows. I call him every now and then but nothing is the same, nothing is like how it use to be.
We were best fucking friends. I told him about everything. I fell in love with the kid, in a way. I don’t know how to bring him back into my life like how he use to be there. I don’t think it’s a good idea anyway, not now, not when I’m like this.
Things have changed, permanently, and I’m still trying to be okay with that.
I don’t have any close friends anymore. I don’t have anyone I can confide in anymore. I am alone. That sentence terrifies me. Sure, I have friends that I joke around with and sometimes have a serious conversation but I don’t trust any of them, well, I do, it’s just hard to explain. I’m not going to be as close to anyone as I was with Jake. And I think I’m trying to fill this little gap/hole with boys and flings that I know are NOT going to work out. But I continue to try anyways.
I don’t blame Jake, I would of said “fuck her” a long time ago. And he didn’t really even do that, I just, I don’t know. He got mean, like incredibly mean. Or maybe, I just got sensitive. I don’t really know.
I do know that I miss him but I don’t know how to say that in the actual way I feel it.
I just want things to be okay. I just want to feel okay about everything. I want to wake up every day and smile. Or something. This constant sense of anger and sadness is taking it’s toll.
Me and my mom do mother daughter stuff like go shopping.
It’s not really shopping, we just go look at pretty stuff. We look at jewelry the most because we both make our own. We came across engagement rings and it made me think about how “how could anybody possibly like me enough to spend the rest of their life with me?” or make the promise too. I call bullshit. I’m such an awful indecisive manipulative bitch sometimes. I can’t help it. That’s just how I am. I’m a monster. And yes, I have “boyfriends” or “flings” but they all end with them ending it in some fashion or another. I seriously couldn’t picture somebody loving me. Or liking me that much.
The only thing in my life that’s consistent is my job. And I absolutely hate my job. My friends aren’t. My “significant others” aren’t. My parents aren’t. My plans aren’t. My feelings aren’t. My emotions aren’t.
This constant roller coaster of ups and downs is starting to take it’s toll on me. I just want to start over in some far off world and go by my actual first name, Mackenzie. And just not tell anybody anything about me. Be normal. Be consistent.
I seriously would rather be down all the time then given false hope every now and then.