I'm not that much of a deep thinker. I'm more of a fanciful person with imagination abound. I always wonder it would be like if this had happened in my life or if I dated this person. Or if I never left my home town, would I have turned out the same way? With all my anxiety, trust and people issues. It's hard to say what would have happened or if I would have eventually turned out the same way in the end.
Recently I've been thinking over things that have happened in my life and I noted that I always remember the bad things the most. Almost as if I remembered them I could some how change how the outcome happened. It doesn't work, but it does give me pause as to why all the bad things remain vivid in my mind when all the good seems to come and go? I guess it goes along with that learning from your mistakes thing, but honestly I think it's harmful not helpful.
Through the wonders of facebook, I was able to keep in contact with people I haven't seen since third grade. Talking to them and reminiscing of the old ways has been interesting. Not bad, just it's funny what people remember mostly. And when you compare memories you realize what all you had forgotten. And while talking to my old classmate Billy, my fanciful self wonders if this is a second chance of what could have happened had I stayed in my home town instead of moving away? There are so many ifs involved with being fanciful, and while it's not a bad way to be -- sometimes I wish I could just turn it off. It hurts worse when reality gets in the way and you realize it'll never be like you imagined it. And the imagination is what is holding you back from actually obtaining what you want. If that make any sense. This post is more or less me writing what I'm thinking without reading over or editing so my thoughts might appear jumbled or even confused.
On that note, I'm never really truthful with people. Not that I lie to them but I don't really say what I want to. Part of me always holds something back, I don't know whether it's because I'm afraid or just have always done this.
My parents were always divorced in my mind. I never remember them being together because I was too young. I didn't get to experience that stability of having two people. It's always been one or the other. And always verses each other. I remember all of what they have said about each other -- always bad. I remember that I needed to keep things from my mother because it would hurt her feelings and she would get depressed and get angry. I never really understood if it was at me or not, but assumed it was my fault so I quit talking as much. I kept things, and turned inwards instead of outwards. I guess it was just hard for her to let go of all that hatred -- still is. I still even to this day as a 23 year old have to keep things about half my life from her. As not to hurt her feelings. Which in turn keeps me from having a real relationship wit her. Not saying my mother is a bad person, just that she is human and didn't handle things with a small child correctly.
She's not the only one who handled things in a bad way. My brother, I assume couldn't take the guilt she heaped on us and was old enough to understand it hadn't always been like this. He was old enough to realize what she was doing and stopped going to visit her. Which just heaped more pressure on me, though I didn't realize it as pressure until later in life. I didn't realize how much it would impact on how I act today. Or the fact that I would get an anxiety disorder from it which causes panic attacks from time to time.
My father is a good man, though I don't remember him being there much. I have memories of us together and some fun times and things he did for me. But for the most part my constant was my aunt Joy and cousins, my middle brother and my grandparents. I remember them mostly when I think back to the age of elementary school.
I remember a lot from 5th grade, mostly because it was when we moved from my home town to Birmingham. Four hours away from my constants with the exception of my middle brother -- and even then he was entering high school and I lost him as a constant. And my father remarried and I gained a new mother and two new siblings. I have no ill will towards the three, but I have to say I was miserable being in the same house with them. It was a new set of rules and too much had changed too fast. I no longer had what I remembered so vividly. It was then that I started really turning to books. You could escape within them and block everything else out. How miserable you were. How unhappy you felt. How lonely you and abandoned you felt. Reading was freedom. Not meaning I was unhappy all the time, because I do have happy memories from that era too, I eventually made friends though it was different. These were the people I had grew up with, they weren't my cousins. They were all unrelated to me and it just wasn't the same.
Fast forward to 8th grade and my dad divorced again. It was really the best thing honestly. And again I was taken from what I knew and put into a public school to make new friends and adapt to a new surrounding. It was difficult and books became more of a constant and I clung to them more. I would walk two miles to the library just about every day. It didn't matter if it were raining or cold or too hot. It was also the year my dad got me a cat. She was the only other living thing in my house besides me, because by then my dad had started going to night school to be a lawyer.
I wasn't scared to enter high school. It was just another change like before and I had my books and cat. I made friends the first year and continued on as normal, though things started slipping. It's when I really realized my anxiety started coming out. I couldn't find refuge in books, I still loved to read them but it could no longer block out everything. It seemed like I was an overflowing pot, and no matter what I did the water wouldn't stop bubbling out. I thought I was depressed, I still don't know if I was or not. I thought about death and how easy it would be and even attempted to harm myself -- but never did. Truthfully, I never did. But I still have scars from it. And when books couldn't solve everything, I thought a boyfriend could take it away. It was stupid, but at the time I thought it could help me escape and that sex was what was important. That having sex would mean they would have to stay with me, I wouldn't feel so alone anymore and the water would stop overflowing. It wasn't until College did I realize how stupid that was -- actually the death of my pawpaw did it. It was then that I realized I didn't need to date anyone. It was a hard blow to me, his death. Especially since I had imagined him there for my high school graduation and even for my wedding. I stopped dating that year and haven't had a boyfriend or really been on a date in five years. I wanted to work on me, first to not feel that need but it's still there really. I don't think it'll ever completely disappear and it's something I'll have to deal with.
I don't really feel lonely anymore or abandoned, I think I've come to terms with what has happened and even realized what things were. But I do get these moments of intense longing. And I cry for no real reason. I don't believe I've had a bad life, or that I should complain. Which I'm not. I just like to imagine what things could have been like. I like to think about my future and how it'll be. And most times, I wish I could stop it -- but then that's not really me. It's scary when you realize that diving too deep into yourself you can escape the world around you and that any threat to that illusion can hurt you just as much as a heart break or having thought you loved someone so much only to realize they never really knew you in the first place.
I can't seem to find a muse for the past year. I feel quite empty not writing anything and then there is the fact that I hardly have any time to just sit down and write. I was barely able to write a Fairy Tale Transformation story, which is sad because stories and ideas used to flow through me that I couldn't write it all down!
I just don't feel much like me anymore.
I really hate fanfiction.net now. Too many stupid people on there to count. The rating on there is for story content and themes not how long the story is. Thank you, you stupid reviewer who told me I should consider changing the rating because my story wasn't long.
What does it mean when a person says I'll talk to you tomorrow, and then never calls or texts? Or am I just being paranoid in thinking that they've forgotten about me so easily?
Attention fellow authors! I have been plagiarized by another author on fanfiction.net. She has copied and pasted from my hard work and claimed it as her own. I am outraged, hurt and highly upset by this person.
This is the link to my story it was published in 6/9/08: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4312329/1/Office_Problems
This is the link to Gin kiOhikari's story, which was published 8/24/09: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5328532/1/Office_Affairs
I have already notified fanfiction.net, and I hope they plan to do something about this. If not then I will contact the other author myself, asking her to take it down but right now I can not do so because of how angry I am. Especially by what is written in her author's note.
- Location:Hoover, Alabama
- Music:Gives you Hell- All American Rejects.
Hokey, so it's been a while since I've updated this. But honestly it's because I've been busy with everything. It's like I don't even have time to think anymore. ><
But I've been going back over all the writings that I'm still not caught up on, so I'm planning to keep working on that list. It's in an earlier post somewhere....anywho. I haven't backed out of those yet, just taking me longer to get them all done and for the ideas and story to flow. Lately nothing has been flowing in my direction or in the way that I want it. Ugh, life is so harsh that way. lol.
lilmisfits8811 (aka: despaired_poet)
R Disclaimer/Authors Notes:
I don't own Dragonball Z. Cause if I did, then we'd totally get to see how Bulma and Vegeta got together during those three freaking years. Also has not been beta read.
Disclaimer: I don’t own DBZ. This was written as a gift to Spike’s Savior.
( Not Anymore...Collapse )
I'm getting burned out on things, mostly school and work. It's all I ever do...which results into me not studying for my chemistry test like I should. I hate it yet can't seem to make myself do anything about it. I'm just so tired lately --and sore-- but I guess I'll continue on ward. I haven't had much of a chance to write what I want to write, cause well always doing something for some class...or just not doing anything at all because I'm tired and just want to relax.