and many countless days later

i spoke to V on Sunday night for the first time in three? years. honestly, i wasn't really sure if we'd ever come back to each other especially since we haven't met often. but she's been there for me through... a lot of things. a lot of years.

i've been thinking a lot since then. the guilt and resentment weighs, thick and heavy and cloying. everyone was so worried. they tried to help but they couldn't understand.

there was a time where i didn't have the words to talk about myself. where i didn't understand myself. where i was more anxiety than myself. more scared of myself than anything else.

a time where the only thing i knew to do was to either lash out or hide it.

sometimes it's easy to touch and just imagine. what if, once more, would it help?

the scars may have faded but i know they were there.

there was (is?) a time where that was the only thing that helped.

seasons come and seasons go

I haven't thought about REC in so long really, even though I have photos up in my room, but when P said that some of the videos were online, so many things suddenly came rushing back.

Thursday and Sunday practises. Spending holiday breaks painting. Chicken shop chips and milk bar chocolate and Yumba juice. The times that I skinned my knee while B carried me from F block to the gym. Watching T light an entire box of matches on fire. 5AM wake ups for 6AM bus rides. L coming in to help out. Having first rehearsal and being the hidden performance. So much time for hair and make up, being teased, ribbons bobby-pinned, "My face is cracking off". Costume hunting. Lollipops and snacks galore. Freaking out over dead batteries for lights. Tetris and Space Invaders. C and M having a size argument over a tiny pair of shorts. A simultaneous sense of superiority and camaraderie. "10 points if you close on H." A cannon in canon. Being taped so tightly it felt like circulation was being cut off. Sets in sheds. Sitting in car parks. Competitions and S crowd surfing. "Do we get changed side-stage or behind stage?" Icicles and grass packs. Follow The Leader and conga lines. Newspaper weddings. The dunce cap. K having a meltdown and everyone being lectured by M, and K coming back and I'm sorry, you guys are awesome. Astro Boy and elephants. "That's such a Rocka move."

The nerves and the screaming until our throats were hoarse because we, just like everyone else, wanted, so badly.

So many memories that I can't believe I ever forgot.

And always, always, One More Time.

is it this way or that way?

if you have a complex it's because everyone keeps leaving.

the name calling and violence and rejection may have dulled but it's not so easy to forget.

you still remember.

you know the truth.

nobody can know just how deeply personal your self-loathing is.

whether it's sweat or tears

i can't sleep but what else is new?
why do i keep coming back?
why can't i just leave?
it goes around and around and i'm the one who looks a fool
please just let me breathe

my steps go nowhere i scratched it from my memory

Is it you who changed
Or is it I who changed
...
We’re the ones who’ve changed I guess
Everyone is like that I guess

Vacant room in my memory
This lunatic night swallows me 

i don't know when things suddenly started tumbling down and no matter how much i look for something it doesn't work 

i keep going back to trying to believe that YNWA but why burden others when they have their own lives to deal with 

things are still so much one step forward two steps back that is it really that happiness is too rare too lofty a goal 

a lot of times i'm not sure if i can achieve it or hold on to it 

if i am happy now it must be fleeting

i'm so scared i can't breathe that it kills me inside that i wish it would just end 

while i'm running alone on tracks in a place that's been left the call of the void becomes increasingly inviting

if i ever knew i've long since forgotten

it's one long night that i'm passing through

it's okay to be angry and never let go//it only gets harder the more that you know 

i've never been so thankful to be on a break before. even the kids were starting to look at me funny. at least now i don't have to pretend that every thing is peachy, sunnyperfectdon'tletthemknowsmileyou'refine. keep it in even when you feel like your face is burning off. i had enough practise at that, once. 

it's been a long time since i blogged this frequently. i guess i never felt like i needed to hide so much these past years. i know that i'm slipping back to a bad place but the last thing i want to do is lay it out for everyone else again. they shouldn't be dragged down just because i can't get it together.

being blue is better than being over it

...right?

I don't want to forget.

the storms came, the winds changed

everyone, a especially, keeps telling me that things will get better, things will get easier, i deserve more. some days i think they're right. more often i wish i could believe what they say as wholly as they do. the problem is always that i want--you can never get sick of wanting.

at the very least, i don't cry every day any more. though i'm not sure if that would have been any better than constantly feeling like i'm living through a grey haze.

all those things i read about, that i wrote about--none of it really existed until now.

it's hardest to see that everybody else is so happy. l is moving to sydney to be with w. c and other l are both making plans for their weddings. c and r are travelling together. j is moving in with k. m, t, w and d are all looking at buying houses and making real lives. n is organising a surprise for c. w just got married. s is getting married next week. a and j are about to leave for travels. h and e are getting engaged.

i wish i didn't feel so bitter when i look at how excited they all are. i wish i didn't begrudge them their happiness. but i am, incredibly so, because i honestly thought that this year would be the end of it. that this year would be a good year. so far though 2017 is kicking my ass real hard with a whole bunch of emotional pain.

lies and cries and broken ties

skeletons grow stronger when kept in the rearview

even though leaving c was the hardest thing i've done and i was so damn terrified for so long afterwards this hurts infinitely more. back then at least i knew there wasn't anything to save. i knew i had to get out before i got even more fucked up or before anyone else got hurt too.

i didn't know anything this time.

maybe i've just been pretending this whole time that all the things they said to me were wrong.

i'm not enough. i'm not worth it. i never will be.

that's the one thing, there's no safety in desire

a positive emotion can fuck you up forever