day 23 of no smoking. doing good :c)

day two of not smoking.... and they've been long ones.

you should all list a bunch of reasons not to smoke cigarettes... because it's getting hard to remember why i'm quitting.

2:30 am--- woke up coughing and needed a drink... but instead of getting my drink, i completely wiped out on the stairs and got a nasty bruise.

5:00 pm--- finished scanning out magazines at work, only to have the top shelf in the back room [which i didn't even touch, by the way] mysteriously fall on top of me, along with 30 jars of tostitos queso dip [don't panic... only one of them broke]. so i curse a couple of times, rub my now bruised shoulder and the bump on my head, and i clean up my mess. then my boss sends me home an hour and 45 minutes early because i'm an "accident waiting to happen."

5:20 pm--- walked home in 30 degree weather, because i didn't have a ride until 7.


in conclusion, i am now a bruise... and pretty sure i must have done something terribly wrong to deserve this karmic abuse. i should have taken the day off to go to my aunt's memorial service with my mom.


fuck this shit. that's all i have left to say.

i... am completely and totally disgustingly sick.

bleh.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She'd had her share of problems in the past, but despite the extra baggage, she seemed to be okay. She'd found a boy who made her feel special... beautiful at her worst, completely precious, and safe. Then one day, the girl's entire world was rocked by news that could ultimately be terrible. She was frightened, and found safety in the boy's arms. She thought everything might be okay after all. At least she wasn't alone. Then the phone call came, and she realized the news that could be terrible just so happened to be pretty awful after all. She turned around to the boy, and realized he wasn't really there anymore. Instead, she saw a boy who was just as scared as she was... only he was scared of her. She'd done it again, without realizing... held on so tight that she couldn't see she was actually pushing him away. So she turned the other way, only to realize that the boy who had been her safety net had also become the only person in her life. How had she been so dumb? Yet, her need for some stability led her to keep reaching for the boy... only each time she reached, he pulled farther away, until she became "the downer." The one who brings everyone down, and is no longer any fun to be around. So, she did her best to mask her distress, and attempted to be the girl she was before. But he saw through the facade... it was too late. She had lost him. With no one left to turn to, she started collecting these bad feelings... storing them in the darkness of her mind, where they were hidden from the people around her, only to resurface when she found herself alone. It wasn't so bad... a fake laugh and a plastic smile were enough to fool most... but at the end of the day, she was still left with herself... a self that was beginning to become so muddled with lies that she no longer had a way of finding the truth. Every hurt, every insult, was stored away, waiting for the one that would send the pile toppling over, spilling onto the floorboards and walls of her life.

And it did. But there was still no one left. The ones that were there weren't really... the conversation was only interesting if the topic was themselves, and their own lives and problems. And she didn't mind listening... it became something of an escape from the things cluttering her own mind. She could see with such clarity when it was about someone else. But it had finally reached a point where there was no more room left for discussion until some things were freed from her mind and her heart. So, with no one else to tell, she began to type. Words flowed from her fingers faster than she could keep up with them.

Eating disorders, cancer, death, loss, loneliness, cutting, drugs, smoking, rape, overdose... the words echoed off the walls of the screen upon deaf ears. And she realized that it wasn't really helping. The tears fell faster than the tissue could manage, and she still felt empty and full at the same time... homesick for a time and place that wasn't home... confused about everything she was becoming, and angry at who she used to be. She began to hate herself again... and who was there to stop it?