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I just woke up to the biggest panic attack.

Why the fuck do I lack so much motivation? I feel like time is running out and I don't have any reason to regain any sort of motivation or orginization.

But I have to. And I can. I will. Right?

Time is my biggest enemy in every aspect of my life right now; but the more I stand still and feel sorry for myself, the faster life will pass me by.

I need to get a grip. I'm desperately trying to grasp onto anything that will keep me sane right now, but every chance of orginization just slips away from me. WHAT is wrong with me?

So let's get something straight: I'm emotionally unstable. This emotional rollercoaster is, by far, the most unenjoyable ride I've ever been on in my life.

I blame the pill...or PMS.

Either way, a lesson has been learned: the pill combined with PMS is the bane of every woman on her road to success.

I feel better.

I think tomorrow, after bio, I'm going to sit down at my white board and figure my life out.

I can do this. HA!

I have successfully defeated my hormones. Really? So I screwed up, my job entails a lot of responsibilities, thus presenting a litany of mistakes that can be made. Should I have made them? No. But I did. And I'm learning. I am.

If I were perfect, I would be boring. I'm nineteen years old...I'm NINETEEN. Give me a break. I need to give myself a break seeing as no one else will. Nineteen. Geez Tina, relax. When I look back on my life, I don't want to see some loser who stressed over being student government president at some community college, I want to see a girl who took on a huge role, and came out of it a fucking genius.

Criticize me, I don't care; you're only making me stronger. You can throw empty criticism at me thinking I won't learn from my mistakes, but your lack of faith in me will only motivate me further. WOW, another thing I realized, I'm important enough to be on someone's mind and have them form endless opinions about me. I just realized: I'm pretty important. Okay...what now?

Time to live up to the perceptions...or defeat them.

I need to stop beating myself down. I will climb out of this hole I dug for myself. This is why I haven't really been crying to anybody. When everything is your fault, who can you blame but yourself? Crying in front of someone may be cathartic, but it also puts a burden on them. No one wants extra burdens. I've been keeping to myself and rightfully so; I got myself into this fucked up mess, and I WILL get myself out.

I don't care if I sound redundant in this entry. I need to. Plus this isn't for you, this was all for me. I'm the one who woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of a dream...about being in bio class. I guess that could have been interrupted.

Wow. Ok. I can do this.

Rip Van Winkle

I really have nothing to say...nothing except for a vast amount of unspoken thoughts that all just morph into a profusion of temperamental bickering.



I think the past month has been the most overwhelming month I've ever had to endure in my nineteen years of life.

WHEN will I be able to just live?

Past Loves and Past Lives

I was fourteen years old and he was sixteen. He left for college, and I started seeing other people. I thought I would never be able to get over him...

I was right.

Seeing him today brought back a wave of memories and feelings that overwhelmed me into submission. Our brief encounter triggered something in the back of my mind. I couldn't place a finger on what it was until now. I remembered that I wrote this about him at the age of sixteen when he went away for college. It took me forever to find it...

He approached her and said,"I think you're gorgeous." Never before had she ever felt so weakened by a mere compliment. They always brush over her head like the cool summer breeze. With him, it was pure innocent bliss. Her memories with him were filled with warmth and sunlight even on the dullest days, but that's all that they are now. Just memories, memories that she knows she will never be able to relive.

The images of their time spent together jostled with each other, and she tried to stop them, but she couldn't. His smile, she knew, would always remain the same, as a legacy of his adolescence.

She let him go. "Why did I do it?", she asked herself. She still to this day is unable to find a reason for her acts. She relives her days with him every waking moment until Reality steps in and every word out of his mouth is like a slap in her face; word bullets that tore into the brain and exploded, obliterating memories. Reality is cruel and careless but when things get crucial, all of the sudden it turns apologetic and mollifying. There is no turning back. Even if she could, she shouldn't for fear that she would have to suffer unbearable consequences. But would it be worth it?

Regret flows through her veins as if it is her own blood; through her body, to her heart where anger beats along with confusion. The only thoughts that flow through her mind are useless and they taunt her. She is goaded by her thoughts to be rash, but she takes a look at Reality, and thinks better of it.

"If only I showed more affection; if only I were simply blatant; if only I weren't so shy; if only I hadn't let him go....." She reminds herself that if she keeps looking back she will soon run into a wall of confrontation. "If only" Seemed to be the words of her life.

I know right? Even back then I seemed to have serious issues with men.

I don't know what happened today. It was, seriously, all a blur. My heart was beating out of control, and my thoughts jumbled up into a clutter of excitement. My words were probably far from comprehensible, and that was when I realized...

When the waves of your past come crashing into you, all you can really do is: breathe.

Shot to Pieces

I've been running too much. Too far. Too fast.

To where? And why?

I feel like I've been running uphill through the last few weeks. Now I'm exhausted. Some might have seen me stumble and fall, but I brushed my knees off and carried on like any normal person would. When you fall face first into the concrete, I've learned that its best to let your tears sink into the pavement and then just get up and carry on. No one needs to know you got hurt. Right?

Wrong.

I'm so fake.

When it comes to talking about myself and how I feel, it's like speaking a foreign language of which my tongue can't grasp. Not can't. Won't. Talk about stubborn.

I don't know where I'm going with this. Which sucks because I've been running aimlessly for far too long and now I'm lost. I need a map. Not a compass. Fuck compasses. I don't need a damn arrow to know where north is. That's what the sun is for. I want another tangible object that would provide me with a sense of direction telling me exactly where I am and where I need to be.

I have to attend yet another conference this weekend. I'm tired of acting so blindly. I'm tired of just showing some shell. I've got fucking feelings too. I need someone to hold me together.

Or maybe I just want someone to hold me. Tight. Because otherwise I would explode.

Into a huge mess.
Guts everywhere.

So not pretty.

So hold me.

The Inconsistancy of Change

If I were to step out of my body and observe myself from a different perspective I would imagine feeling dumbfounded at how someone can possibly go from sane to paranoid, then finally to borderline depressed. The last one might have been a bit stretched, but it was a good way of implying how crazy and absurd I've been acting. Over the time span of three days starting from Tuesday night, I have some how managed to peak the scale of mellow dramatic. That being said, I find it necessary to blog out all the nonsense that I've been feeling, in hopes of justifying my ludicrous actions. The next hour or so will be dedicated to the distressed conveyance of my fears, actions, and downright obscenity.

Somehow, during my most erratic hours, I managed to indulge in three mugs of French vanilla coffee and enough cookies to feed a small third world country. It's embarrassing, even to myself, to realize how miserable I am about the ever-increasing status of my weight; yet I never cease to think about food, especially when I'm feeling like I'm at the lowest point in my life. I risked my life and body to take my dog on a walk at three in the morning to a park where, to date, two gun fights, one murder, three rapes and countless skinned knees (to say the least) have occurred. I don't know how I got back alive and unharmed. I probably was suffering from a severe case of hysteria and in reality did lead myself into danger but traumatized myself so much that I ended up with amnesia, thus causing me to forget the events taking place from when I stepped out of my house to when I finally settled back into bed. My thought now is: if only that could happen for the events of the last six months.

I know change is inevitable. I just wish that I were a lot more open to new things. When I say "open" I really mean I wish that I were a lot braver to face and adjust to new things. Is it asking to much that I simply want to stay in the state that makes me happy and comfortable? Why does change have to be so scary? Yes I understand that change can sometimes be fun. I wouldn't argue with that. New clothes, new hair, new food, new CAR??? All completely good examples of change...and also all completely obtainable with money. I guess what I'm really afraid of is those priceless, unpredictable, and life-affecting changes.

I have certain fears, one of them being change and the other, sadness. What I'm guessing is that I'm afraid of change because it might lead to sadness. However, if I don't take the leap of faith, how will I ever know? I might never reach complete satisfaction if I refuse to move on. I think it's time to take into consideration what's good for me, and what is just completely a waste of my time. I should trust in faith, the problem is, sometimes it's a bit difficult to rely on such an intangible source. I need to be strong. I need to grow a pair of balls and finally rip off that damn band aid. So my wounds will be exposed, so what? Wounds heal, but time can never be replaced. I should take as much as I can from this and move on. I should do that, but I don't want to.

What I want to do is go running into my mom's skirt, crying and begging for her to take me away from all of this. I would love to get away. Maybe once I'm away from all the chaos, I would finally be able to get my life back in order, because to be honest, I'm scared. No, I'm terrified. What if there isn't anything better out there for me? What if I've been wasting my time on nothing? What if I'm LOST??? I tried seeking help. It pains me that my mom is unable to help me these days with my problems, but I understand that everyone has their own problems to deal with (some more important than others). I did spend some quality time with a good friend over coffee (or whatever that water-based decaffeinated shit was) and, of course, cookies. However, I didn't feel comforted so much as I was the one who did the comforting, so I sought the help of two old friends both of whom I was once very close with. The problem was one of them was busy and the other was of no help whatsoever. Which made me realize how over the past six months, I have become so engulfed in my new life, that I have completely forgotten that my old friends have feelings too, and they still care about me...Well at least they did until I decided to become to busy for them.

I should try taking a step back. I now realize that I have been too self-absorbed with myself that I have forgotten the effect I have on others. Looking back over the past three days I have indeed become a little less sensible and a lot more irrational. Although the feelings I felt were legitimate, the actions I took were far from that. I should try considering the fact that I will never be able to grow if I refuse to accept change and pain. Shit happens, and I just have to deal with it. The problem is, I'm loving this chapter of my life too much and I don't want to turn the page.

Dust Bunnies and Memories

It's that time of year that we all dread, yet some of us welcome it with open arms and a dust pan. Spring Cleaning is here, and along with it comes stress, mood swings, and long lost memories. Upon sorting through my childhood and teenage years, I recovered: a guitar (hardly ever used, but rescued in hopes that I will one day become a rock star), notes written from friends (filled with inside jokes that make me feel so out of the loop now, not understanding any of them), wallet-sized couple pictures (half of them from people I don't even talk to or like anymore), a couple knick knacks from my shallow elementary school days, broken relationships (which led to broken hearts), and two or three things that I feel I would actually use.

As I'm sitting here however (itchy from all the upturned dust), I can't help but to think about all these memories that I recovered. Over summer, when I was remodeling my room, I threw all of the junk that I couldn't care less for into my brother's old, vacant room. At the time I knew it was useless, yet I still was unable to part with it. Now, three seasons later, I still can't find the courage to throw my past away. I simply store it somewhere until I find the time and mindset to actually deal with it.

I guess in a sense there is no throwing away of my past. No matter how hard I try, I either end up not wanting to, or not being able to. I tried shoving it into a vacant room, but it's all still there. I could try moving away, but it would still be here. I could try giving it away, but it would still be there. Somewhere. It's like that shit we learned in chemistry. How matter is neither created nor destroyed. Not exactly the same concept...but close enough.

Meanwhile...

I've been thinking about how things just aren't the same anymore. I shouldn't be surprised, because it's not like I was expecting a smooth ride all the way, but I didn't expect this rocky stage to be filled with so much...apathy. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I really am the demanding little girl that he says I am. Maybe I do complain too much. I don't know, whatever the case is, I can't say or do anything about it because it would simply justify his points and make me look like a bitch. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I'm sensing too much absence and not enough fondness.

I guess some of us just don't realize the time strain. Soon time will run out and in its place will be a huge distance. About eight hundred miles to be exact. I don't know. Maybe I should just let it be? Maybe I should cool off? Maybe I shouldn't care so much (I mean really, I'm the only one that does care). Maybe I should...give up?

Oh hell, I don't even know what I'm saying. I have a million thoughts running through my head and they all just morph into a huge cloud of confusion. But really, what the hell am I waiting around for? I feel like I'm trying for nothing. I feel empty and also that everything I have is empty. I hate being judged, but I can't help that. It just sucks to know that even the person you love is also judging you, critiquing your every action in hopes of making you into "a better human being". I feel like I'm not good enough.

Well if I'm not good enough at home, and I'm not good enough at school, and I'm not good enough for him than what the hell is the fucking point? What happened to those days when I was beautiful, smart, and funny? When there just wasn't enough of me for him, and he actually thought about me? I miss being cared about. I miss feeling safe, and knowing that I had a sense of belonging. What can I do though? I guess I have to understand that all things come and go, I better appreciate them while they're here cause they sure as hell aren't going to last.

Now I'm angry and hurt from dealing with apathy and...nothing. I hate nothing. It sucks because there's nothing to justify, and nothing to yell at. I'm hurt, I'm tired of crying myself to sleep. I realized that I get tired after I cry and today, I am exhausted.

But that might just be from all the spring cleaning. I should take a shower. I'm still itchy from being attacked by the dust bunnies. Of course when I'm uncomfortable I get cranky so that might just be it.

Fucking dust bunnies...

Update

A lot has been happening since the last time I was on here. First things first: I can't type as well because of my damn acrylics. Second: I've been a little frustrated with some things lately. Sometimes I feel like there's not enough love, but this change is just something that I would have to accept. It's just that adapting to such an emotionally challenging transition can be tough at times. I'm fine though. Happy even.

Happy is an understatement. Especially after what happened yesterday.

I got a puppy!

AND his name is Mika. He's my baby. Basically he's the only reason I decided to update haha.

The end. Until next time....

I don't know when next time will be. I hate being so damn busy. I WANT ME TIME.

The End.

Wow

So today was the ASG retreat. It made me realize how extremely busy I'm going to be from now until June.

I was planning everything out as far as May and June and it made me extremely sad, thinking about all the people that wouldn't be coming back next year. However, now is not the time to be sad over that. Now is the time to just state that I might end up hospitalized because of how effing booked I am.

Oh well. =)

I won't be back here for awhile.

Oh Tina...

It seems that lately I have been arguing with my inner voice quite a bit. I'm glad that I have it because if it weren't there to tell me to calm down, I don't think anyone would be able to. I don't even know what I'm saying. I actually have nothing to say. I have so many thoughts, but they just all morph into a huge blur of lethargy. I always have the last word. I always have something to say. I always have a defense. I'm somtimes wrong. Bottom line is: I need to stop being so difficult. My conscience is right, and it's time I become right as well. I'm accustomed to always getting what I want. This needs to change. I need to realize that although the world is able to bend over backwards and wrap around itself for me, those living on it are not capable of such abilities. He's so good to me, and I want to be the same to him. Being a bitch is not the solution. I've been so extremely difficult but now I don't have anything to blame it on, it's all just me. I don't like me. I don't know how he can even love me. Or why he does.

 

I guess after my breakdown I just secluded into a whole phase of self pity. Poor me, I had to help plan a wedding for a guy I couldn't care less about. Poor me, I'm actually not getting what I want (and this time need) for once. Poor me, I actually have to start swallowing my pride and being dependent on others. Poor me. Poor me. Poor me. And then the tears started pouring. I guess my emotions were somewhat justified, but mostly I was simply being selfish. There are so many things that I need to realize. One thing that needs to be laid out there, is that I am in constant denial with even myself.

 

Denial is not an eraser, but a mask to hide the fact that a person is not perfect; that they have flaws. I need to unmask myself and face my flaws. I'm prideful, stubborn, and extremely defensive. My past cannot be erased. It happened; and there's no way to change that it did. I can forgive, I should forgive, and I will forgive. But I'm not going to forget. I wish I could, but wishing is futuile. It's just a bunch of pointless hoping that leads to nowhere. The sooner I accept it the sooner I will be able to move on.

 

I have a barrier that keeps me from moving toward my goals. That barrier is my insecurity. Oh yeah. I have it. Big time. I just act all confident and cocky because that is my mask. My denial. Whatever. That's all I say: "whatever"; it's my broom that sweeps away all the problems and ordeals that I can't find a solution to. Whatever, whatever, whatever, whatever. I say it, and it's under the rug. But now the rug is still there and I'm left staring at it, knowing what's underneath.  I have to deal with it. I need to accept it. A little dust in my life isn't going to hurt me. So I'm not perfect. Is that so hard to admit? I say it all the time. But do I really believe it? I do now.

 

I'm not perfect.

 

Oh. That felt weird. So now what? I don't know what the hell just happend or why it happend. I don't know what I just did or why I did it. All I know is now I feel very vulnerable. I'm so dazed right now. I have results, but I don't have reason. I have questions without answers. I've accepted my faults, but I haven't moved on. I feel like I've done so much but achieved so little. I have what I want, but now I want more. I'm the mouse that got the cookie, but didn't get the milk. Should I be satisfied?

 

Hell no. From now on I resolve not to leave anything unfinished. I don't settle for normal. I don't settle for the alternative; and I most definitely do not settle for less.

 

I'm sorry. The only reason I decided to update and write on this thing was because I was suffering from a severe case of writer's block. I guess that critical condition is gone. My writing career is saved. Now let us rejoice, for there is a story to be finished. Well two. Mine that I am writing, and mine that I am living.

 

Yeah..Welcome to my life kids.

Mmm,hm.

I am Overwhelmed with Stress

I have two essays due and a psych midterm tomorrow.
On top of that Fall Fest is in two days and I feel that we're not ready.
Girls soccer is now 15-0 without ever having a single goal scored on them.
They are indeed number one in the nation.

I love ASG.
I have the best boyfriend ever.

Don't get me wrong I'm still extremely happy.
I'm just really stressed and tired. To the point where I think I'm rather dizzy.
I think I'm going to pass out.
Ok back to studying.