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[prismaticbleed]

 

I have never felt so alone in my life.
It's horrifically ironic, really. The more 'connections' I make... the more people I try to directly be in contact with, the more 'friends' I find... the more entirely ostracized and estranged I am.
I can't get over it. Yes, I like being solitary, but this is different. This is not true solitude. This is the deep, aching panic that hits when you realize you truly have no one to turn to.
I have no one to turn to. I know hundreds of people and I know no one.

I've never had a best friend, ever. For some reason I want one, but I feel that may be impossible, considering how my definition of such a person is so different from the norm.
I don't want someone to 'go out' with, or 'hang out' with, or anything like that. I don't want someone to go to dances or movies or things with. I don't want that at all. I don't want that. That's not necessary, it's not needed... it's not the real purpose of a friend.
I need someone who I can protect, who is innocent and fragile, yet strong and determined... someone who understands that I am glass on the inside and is willing to live in the quiet purity of days with me. Someone with a warm heart and an open mind and an undying sense of wonder and hope.
It's hard to explain. I... Cassandra came close. Vickie felt close. I think that's why I miss them both so terribly much... why I will never recover from losing either of them. I think that's what made me fall for Jena in the first place. They all hold that beautiful sort of brightness, that way of seeing the world through unfogged eyes.
That's the sort of person I need in my life, more than anything. It's the sort of person I really am. I put up a daily facade knowing that the real me can easily be killed if I am not careful. I try to fit in with the desperate hope that acting like that will help me meet someone, someone who can help me feel true and right for once in my life.
I forget that I am attracting the wrong sort of people.
And so I am alone.

I'm not a comedian. It's true.
I carry humor around as a shield, something that will protect me, that will keep me from being hated outright. I try ridiculously hard to make jokes, to amuse people, to make others smile, even at my furthest expense... because I feel that is the only way I will ever be 'liked.'
My father was rarely around when I was young... but he had a sense of humor, and every time I saw him, he would make me laugh or smile. I loved that, and I picked up on it. I was a lonely child, with no friends and no social skills, ignored by my own classmates. I couldn't help but notice that the most popular kids were the class clowns. So I thought, 'hey, if I'm funny, maybe people will like me too!'
I tried, I really did, but I didn't understand how. Like so many other things, my sense of humor was less brazen than the ones of most people I knew, and so the simple things I would find amusing would get nothing but mocking laughter from others... quite the opposite of what I was aiming for.
I'll never forget the one night I found the guts to show my parents one of my little 'comics.' It was simple and childlike, yes, but I was trying hard to be funny... trying hard to get people to like me for once. When my parents read it, and I saw them try to fake a smile and say, 'maybe you can try this again,' it hurt more than I ever could have expected. It was as if they had said, 'this isn't good enough either, just like you.' Of course, that was reading deeply into it, but deep down, it was the unintended truth.
I still tried. I turned to some of my comedic dream friends for help, desperate to have a physical friend for once in my life. No use. No one else seemed to care.
Elementary school ended, high school started, and I internalized entirely. I was terrified of people my own age, but ironically, although I would never dare spend time with such people, I still wanted them to like me.
By the time I hit college, I had developed a sort of dry humor, but it still felt forced. Heck, it still is forced, even now. Every day, I feel the need to entertain people, but it's nothing but another mask for me. It makes me sick.
I want to find one person that I don't need to do that for. I want someone I can be natural around.
I think that's why I despised Utah.
I know, I know. I'm trying to forget it, and I can't stand bringing it up, but it forced me to think about the darker things.
Down there, I was always being pressured to amuse people. Humor was my only option, and it ate at me. I couldn't stand it.
But I could never, ever be me. Even when I was 'supposed to,' I couldn't. It wasn't possible or safe. I put on the smiling mask and kept acting.

I feel so sick.
I was hacked... two times, about three days ago, judging by the gravestones. Did I mention that? I forget.
I was throwing up everything I ate again last week. I still can't stomach much. My mother says I likely have an ulcer.
My therapist isn't doing much yet but we're trying. Hopefully she'll help me find someone local to talk to, as I can't drive three hours down to see her only to have my grandparents freak out because 'it's a gay place!! we need to get out of here!!' as if people like me are some sort of plague.
Here comes more bad Utah memories... geez, if they didn't keep me so cold and sober, I'd have taken a neuralizer to myself weeks ago.
I feel like crying a lot now, too. My family is harsh and closed-minded, still, and their harsh natures hurt me badly. I know detachment is a good thing, but I don't want to cut off the wrong things. I need to read more on this.
Speaking of. I spoke to my therapist today.
I've been meaning to write an entry about her in glissando, which I will, but I should write this extra bit now before I forget.
She said something today about treating my schizoid disorder. I've never considered doing so, because to me, it is not a problem. However, she said that it might be what's causing my comprehension problems in college, and it should be looked into.
However, she then said that it's likely giving me 'reality breaks' (I don't know what she means by that), and that she wants me on pills to 'stop those.'
Laurie started screaming and sobbing when she heard that. It scared me, it really did, because we have been through this before. We don't know what the therapists think is going on... we don't know what the pills will stop or kill... and God knows I can't lose Laurie. She's come so close to dying before, and I couldn't take it. I can't take it. So I was terrified, and she started crying, insisting she didn't want to die, which she has never done before. Sure, she gets angry, but a total breakdown? I almost hung up the phone; I wanted to help her, I didn't know what to do. So I had to get Chaos to watch over her for a minute or two while I spoke to my therapist, which was hard because I kept looking back at Laurie and panicking. I don't remember much of anything from our hour-long appointment anyway, which is sick and sad. Heck, I don't remember most things anymore. Why is that?

I miss driving. I really do. Now that it's winter, it's driving me mad.
Driving is the only freedom I get nowadays, and as I have this obsessive love of travel and discovery, it is also my only way to achieve those things considering where I live. So now that my brothers are all in school, my dad lives somewhere else and my mom's never home, I have neither a car nor the say to go anywhere (my grandparents don't like my being out long). I don't know what to do.
Driving at night in the winter... it's amazing. It doesn't even feel like this reality to me. At my old job, I used to purposely stay late on winter workdays, just so I could drive home in the inky darkness with my hands out the windows, taking in everything.
My memories have been lit by indigo evenings,
by breathless moments reaching out of car windows...
I miss that.
Also, I can't be in cars unless I'm driving anymore. I've developed a sort of extreme panic reaction to other people driving, and it's making me a really obnoxious backseat driver. I'm always telling people to slow down or the like, trying to hide the fact that I'm terrified. If I'm not in control of the car I freak out... then again, I've always despised amusement parks for the same reason, so hey.

I don't want my grandmother to come stumbling out here just to scream at me, not just because I don't like getting her angry, but also because I can't handle people being cruel to me even in little ways and then I can't sleep right. Man.
Why is the world like that, really? Why am I always told to 'shut up and take it like a man' when I say 'it shouldn't be like this?'
I'm not complaining about a minor offense. We shouldn't be so harsh and cruel to each other. No one should have to endure that.
I want to change that. I want to help people feel and see and give love, light, hope, peace, understanding, unity... why is that laughed at? Why is that looked down upon? All I've ever wanted to do is brighten hearts, and yet I am mocked for it.
How did the world become like this?

I dreamt about Jena last night.
I was writing letters to her, like a pen pal, supporting her in her work and just talking about life... she would always write back, and we had a great friendship that way. Then near the end of the dream we met in person, and we went somewhere to see a play or the like... but God, I need that in my life.
I love her so much I don't know what to do. I adore her. I want to always be there to support and help her, to always be there if she needs someone to fall back on or turn to. I want to be a friend that she will never lose... I want to be the sort of person to her that no one has ever been to me.
I miss her so much, every waking moment, and I've never met her. It makes me so sad...
I can't stop thinking about how she looked in that photo, the first time I ever saw her, and how it felt to me. In that moment, I knew I needed to know her, and I couldn't explain it.
She's ended up changing my life for the better in more ways than I could have ever dreamed... she's made me a better person.
I don't know how to ever thank her for that. I just want her to know how much joy she's given me, for her own sake... so maybe I can give her some joy and light in return. That's all I want to do is help her as she's helped me... but I don't know how.

I miss Chaos Zero too, in a similar way. I haven't spoken about him lately, and that hurts. I used to type about him all the time, remember?
There's so much I need to say concerning him, and things he's made me think about... I need to do that soon. I need to get back to being me.

I've been working on revising Dream World's older chapters lately-- the ones I wrote when I was about 10. I've fixed most of the plot holes and it feels amazing, because I have been struggling with them for so long. I'm currently fixing Part 7, which means I have 5 more to revise and then I can start typing the actual beginning as well as I can.
I don't know how to present it yet, though, as there are so many different and vital 'veins' of the story occurring at once... I'm thinking of starting the way I had originally planned, but 'rotating' perspectives every chapter or so, to get all the other bits of the story together. Then, around Part 13, I'm either going to have to dedicate several chapters or a different book to the development of several characters' pasts that aren't revealed until then... it's a ton of work. Still, it's my life's work, so it's worth it.
It's hard to explain just how much my characters and their stories mean to me. I don't know if it can accurately be put into words, ironically. It's... it's the sort of thing I can only hope to outline through memories and imagery and feeble attempts to capture emotions and moments in letters.
Still, that's what language is for, so perhaps it's not an impossible task after all. I'll have to give it a shot.

Have you seen the moon tonight? It was gold up here, which was beautiful. Winter nights here are the best, especially when everything is covered in snow, because then it actually feels safe outside. I live in the middle of a forest, remember; on summer nights it's all dark and woodsy and kind of foreboding, but in the winter everything is white and crystalline and quiet. The best part is that there's a road with streetlights down our driveway, so there's always that warm orange glow in the middle of the blue-white cold. On clear nights, it's heaven.
I'll have to find a way to take pictures or video of it... I promise, the first night we get like that, I'll show it to you. It's far too beautiful to keep to myself.

I miss talking like this. I really do.
This journal has been pretty dark and painful for me up to this point... I started it in an attempt to find some privacy while in Utah, but that fell through, so now I'm trying to revamp it into a 'flipside' of glissando, so to speak. They're both inherently connected, but they both feel different to me. I'm not sure how to explain that more thoroughly; I'm sorry.
I wish I could type more, but it's 11:30PM, and as I've had little to no say in my schedule over the past 4 days, I really need to get back on track tomorrow, and I can't do that unless I get to sleep.
I did tell Mr. Sandman (my boss, if you forgot!) about my nightmares, and he's been helping so much I practically kissed him yesterday, haha. Man but I love him. He's awesome.
So I suppose I'll sign off for tonight. I'm feeling a bit of peace for once, and I don't want to lose it. I just wish I could share it with everyone else.
I think we all need some extra peace in our lives.



Seems like only yesterday
Life belonged to runaways
Nothing here to see, no looking back
Every sound monotone
Every color monochrome
Light began to fade into the black

Such a simple animal
Sterilized with alcohol
I could hardly feel me anymore
Desperate and meaningless
All filled up with emptiness
Felt like everything was said and done

I lay there in the dark
And I close my eyes
You saved me the day
You came alive

Still I tried to find my way
Spinning hours into days
Burning like a flame behind my eyes
Drowning it out, drinking it in
Crown the king of suffering
Prisoner, slave to the disguise

Disappear the only thing
Bittersweet surrendering
Knew that it was time to say goodbye

I lay there in the dark
And I close my eyes
You saved me the day you came alive

No reason left me to survive
You saved me
The day you came alive