When I was little my mom always would ask me if I wanted english muffins. “Yes,” I’d always say. Then I’d hide them under the couch cushions for her to find later. I must’ve loved hide and go seek then. She’d find them in about a week and there was never just one in there. I’d ask for two every day so she’d find about a dozen in there. She still laughs about it. I love when kids do stuff that you can’t get mad at because you start laughing. I think that’s what I miss the doing the most, is laughing. I used to always be joking around and having fun and then everything got so damn serious. Do we turn a certain age where the world just seems different all of the sudden? Or are we following the world that is constantly teaching us to to be different towards them? I always promised myself I wouldn’t cave. That I’d keep my light heart and would laugh uncontrollably for ten minutes once more. It hasn’t happened yet but I have hope that it will. I hate things that are too serious! Why am I so serious now?! I sit with a blank stare trying to think of things in life that make me smile and it used to be just the simplest thing! I’m quite klutzy and am always tripping and falling, or like I mentioned in another post when I was taken on a blind date horseback riding. Not paying attention and getting hit in the face by a branch. “Whoopsie!” Was one of my favorite words. Looking back from today, I think my most popular saying is “I’m sorry” now. What?! That can’t be. It is though. I got married when I was 21 to an abusive guy and I think all I ever did was apologize just because. Then, I knew that when I apologized we could move on. That was his routine when we’d fight. He had to hear me say “I’m sorry” all of the time. Nothing else was routine about our fighting either except that it was all routine of domestic violence. And I paid a heavy price for it in the way he treated me, and I also grew distant from many of my friends. He was this secret I had to keep because it was my mistake and I couldn’t admit how mean he was to me and how he was one of the biggest regrets of my life. So I sucked it up and stayed.
I grew up in a close knit group of friends, I think in 7th grade was when I started to get to know many more of my classmates and would soon think of them as family growing up. I love my own family so damn much too but growing up was more stressful than it should’ve been. Shit, this whole life seems like that. As if this is my hell on Earth and I have to work my way back to Heaven. But like all of us, no one gave me directions. And while my family and friends were on one train I was too busy trying to stand in front of it too realize that it had already passed through. Without a horn they all went on to live their lives unsure about what I was doing in my own that nobody stopped to ask…”Are you doing ok?” Some did while others’ stare or silence showed judgement with each wake. Wake of a wave I unknowingly created. I thought I was just here to be me. And If I do anything it’s to stay genuine to who I am, I’d tell myself. But my actions would show a different sort. The kind of person I’d not know, the kind that would’ve been deaf to any horn to begin with. I wish I could go back. Back to the days of the muffins. The simple pleasures that make glee in a day. I want glee. Even a genuine smile would be nice. So I wouldn’t have fear in the night. For the nightmares would surely come.
I don’t wish out loud anymore but I’m always silently pleading for my secret desires to come true. Please sweep me away wind. Take me wherever it is you go just not into the eye of the tornado. I put my hand up in the wind and let the gusts push it into a curve going up and down. Where is everyone? It feels like the story, It, without the storm and no scary clowns.
Ah, but maybe I am the storm. The walking disaster you shouldn’t come close to unless you know what is is you are dealing with. Keeping company with the echoes in the street at night…reminding you that you are alive. For the people that do come close, know that I warned you. I sounded the alarm and instead of hiding, some of you danced. Something I wish I could do again. Dance in the street while taking a walk around the neighborhood. Letting the insides of myself fly out as music notes fill the streets, and suddenly I am lost. Who cares? No need to ask for directions being I didn’t like the place I’d come from to begin with. The dark streets have no more echoes.
There are still no cars as I try to enjoy the peace surrounding me but can’t. I’m so lonely. Depression makes sure you’ll find out that it’s suffering is a one way ticket and a one person ride for a one way kill to my genocide. The lights go out. I wonder whats in the woods I come across. I’m terrified a spider will walk in front of me and I wont know. Yuck. Luckily I’m wearing a necklace that lights up. Ok, I can faintly can see my house. I wish the wind would act like an escalator and escort me back. I also wish I could stop wishing things were different. That maybe if I hadn’t done this or that, then maybe I could seize the damn day instead of waiting for it to be over with. I stand alone, still in the night and waiting for the crisp air to bite and wake me up. I always want to sleep and make time go by faster but its turned me into some pile of nightmares with no safe house to run into, away from the tornado. And damnit it’s getting too close to home. It’s just getting too personal.
My name is Andrea and this is my attempt at finding some solace in my life because therapy’s been, well, a joke to be quite honest. So, I’m trying to therapitize myself with writing it all out. In the hopes it won’t come back again, but if it does at least there’s more paper to write along with it. People say that words lose power, when you talk about things so here goes…my attempt at my OWN therapy. So, “HA,” bad therapists. If I ever get better I want my money back.
Eminem says to “Lose Yourself,” but when you’re lost all you can think of is how desperately you need to be found. I am lost within myself, outside of myself and everything in between. And I’ve walked the 8 mile up the road and don’t like what I have to see. Where did it all the time go? And how in a world where everyday is so long did I get through so many of the years? I still feel like a teenager. All of the sudden I begin questioning everything I learned in school wondering if there should’ve been life lessons taught as part of the curriculum. We learned addition but all that I use that for is to add up all of these bad days…..multiplied by my negative feelings equals out to be the probability of a girl in the danger zone all of the time. My ADD is something you’d recognize when you really get to know me. But all in all, it’s the damn truth that I have it. With ADD you go from one subject to the next within a metaphorical minute. One minute I want to work out in the gym, then drop that just as fast, then I want a different job, then a different arraignment for my room. And let’s say that happens every day. Cleaning the house I’ll mush up all the cleaning chores instead of doing one, then the next and finishing each, I do some of one, then some of two and so on and so forth. ADD is about distracting the mind because it can only have a certain amount of time in an attention span’s mirth. I see it as a blessing and a curse. If I get down about something then I could be distracted so easily and quickly I’m off to the next subject. The curse however, is when it works backwards from being in a good mood switched to a bad one. Some days I’m in limbo all day long, I just hide at home. Moreover, I just try to sleep all day. My brains on combustion mode in each of the thousands of thought that come through with death underlying in each. I don’t think I want to die but I sure as shit don’t want to live. Not like this. Not in the grips of a life I can’t seem to understand. It feels like everyone else knows the secret. Like there was a turn in the 8 mile that I missed when I went the other way. Then something distracts me enough to not focus on it too badly. At least for now.
The days get longer within every night I conquer. “Where am I headed?” “Always a place of dread.” I’d think. I feel like I’m battling all natural disasters combined into one mind which will always take it to the Nth degree within. If I move left or I move right, “I can’t see. I just can’t see what to do!” The brain fed snowstorm is always there to heed my confusion. My impulsivity rises as I can’t make clear-headed decisions because, as no one realizes yet, my head is not clear anymore. I looked to the mirror today and couldn’t see myself. I felt my face as I stared the long stare into the big black hole of each eye. Not an easy feat as my OCD is hooking it’s reins hard these days. As I look to the mirror I can ONLY look at my pupils. That’s one of my rituals. If I don’t do it perfectly and look at the exact center of the pupil then I don’t allow myself to look away. And if I look somewhere else, I “have to get the rituals back on track”…I look, left eye, right eye, left eye, right eye. Over and over again until I’ve done it 24 times. Then, only if it “feels” right, can I look away. Otherwise, I have to start all over. “If I don’t,” I’d tell myself. “Then something bad will happen to someone I care about, even death.” That’s the toll of OCD…you can charge at it’s bridge and try to do otherwise, but the bridge always collapses when you’ve been doing rituals since you were four years old. You don’t need to go to jail if you suffer from OCD, it’s conformity will keep you behind bars in such a suffocating way, you’re already there.