Constant Blame

Well, that was fast.

I was tipsy for a while there. Had a wonderful conversation with my good friend Dennis. I held a pretty decently amusing one-sided conversation with my friend Calvin. Then Calvin finally got online only to tell me to calm down.

Way to be a buzz kill Calvin.

So I basically said fuck you I’m “going to bed”.


Well, I was having an awesome night.

I still am.

Fuck him for that. He did not ruin my night.

Daaammmmn straight.

Well, this update will be about my friendship with Dennis and how that guy continues to amaze me in ways I did not think possible.

The best way to describe Dennis and Calvin… it’s hard. Both of them are amazing musicians. Both of them are extremely smart. Both of them are incredibly nice and considerate people.

Calvin… I would say is much more traditional. Love is for love. It is not a word to be used lightly. He works hard, has a very positive outlook on life, and is always bright and smiling. I’m not sure if I’ve ever really gotten him to open up to me in some of his darker moments. He is free to share his happy emotions, but I can’t help but question the depth of our friendship based on the fact that he has hardly opened up to me on times when I know he was hurting. When he and his most recent girlfriend broke up, he opened up to me for about a period of a week. That was it. Even then, the times he was completely open to me were brief and sparse. Granted, he was much more open to being social with me at first, but I still don’t feel like I have a good grasp on his entire… self? I’m not quite sure how to word it.

Dennis… was and is still a hard shell to crack. It took him at least a year to even really start talking to me. But now that he has, I’m so thankful for it. He’s very quiet, but has a similar outlook to me. While he isn’t entirely negative, he’s realistic, which I appreciate. He’s also an incredibly hard worker. He’s extremely good at what he does and devotes himself to that completely which I admire greatly. He has a good sense of humor and is much more open to some more “radical” ideas. I feel like I can tell him things about my life and not be ashamed. He’ll accept me for who I am, not make me feel like a fool for being drunk or enjoying some things that are generally frowned upon in society. While our friendship is still a budding one, I’m excited for what’s to come and how close of friends we can become.

I know things with Calvin have been rocky. It was worse when I had feelings for him. That, of course, complicated things to an exponential level. I was sincerely hoping that with his departure for Hong Kong this summer that I’d be able to get over that. For now, I believe I have. Who knows what will happen when school starts up again though. I hope I can keep this up. Feelings complicate things, especially when you have a pretty good feeling that things between you won’t end up as a “happily ever after”.

I admire Calvin. I admire his work ethic, his personality, his demeanor, and he’s very easy on the eyes. I know we wouldn’t be a good match though. I can just feel it when I try to push the boundaries sometimes.

I’ll send him some goofy Youtube video that I think is funny or weird or something. He appreciates it, but not in the same way I do. I’m not saying that every guy I date has to have the exact same kind of humor, but they have to be accepting of my goofiness. I am incredibly goofy and dorky, and I need someone that can make me feel like I’m not a freak for being that way. Sometimes, Calvin does make me feel this way, whether that was his intention or not.

Like I said earlier, he hasn’t really been an open book with me. Granted, I talk enough for 3 people, but I would hope that at this point I would have a better sense of his person. I think it was only when I was drunk around my birthday weekend that I finally got him to talk about himself.

That was only after I’d talked about myself for twice that time.

For instance, I found out his favorite color was green and his favorite holiday was Christmas.

I feel like that’s pretty basic stuff.

I still don’t know when his birthday is.

And it isn’t on Facebook.

It’s sometime in April. That’s all I know.

At least I think it is…

It’s just frustrating.

I hate it that I’ve told him so much about me and I still don’t know him. I feel like I have to hit it out of him sometimes. Beat him over the head with a stick…

I don’t like that.

I really don’t like that.

Granted, I don’t know that about a lot of my friends. Hell, I don’t even know that shit about Diego who is, by far, my best friend in the whole entire god damned world.

But, I know Diego doesn’t know that shit about me but it doesn’t really matter.

He’s the person I call when I’m about to have panic attacks. He’s the person I call when I’m bored and want to talk to someone. Damn it, I never want to just talk to people, but he’s the only person I do that with. He’s my go-to and he always will be. I trust him more than I trust my sister. That’s saying a lot.

I feel like Calvin could have been that, but he won’t ever be.

Granted, there isn’t really a spot open for that position in my heart right now. That’s Diego’s spot and will be even after I find the man I’m going to marry. Well, it’ll probably be a shared post, but I will always have Diego.

But, with as much as I’ve told Calvin, I’m hurt by the fact that he hasn’t really opened up to me.

Fuck, I told him some very serious stuff when I was drunk on my birthday. I told him about my mom and Sara, the girl who celebrated my 10th birthday with me 10 years ago only to have killed herself over a year ago.

I’m not sure how much Calvin knows about my depression. I don’t think I’ve ever told him about my cutting experience. He vaguely knows about how I’ve almost put myself in the hospital for… things. I mean, I don’t think I’ve gone into specifics with him just because he’s so optimistic and it makes me feel like I’ve disappointed him somehow.

Brooke once asked me if I ever thought of Calvin in a romantic way. She told me when she once did. I was drunk. It was when Calvin was still dating Alisha. I basically told her yes, but I knew it would never work out. Calvin’s too nice for me. He’s too happy. I’ve got too many problems to riddle him with.

I would never want to let him see my darkness.

I mean, I could if we were just friends. I probably could. But I’d feel like I was taking something away from him. I still have scars on my shoulders from my own razor blades. Damn it, I’m ashamed by the fact that I’ve bought pencil sharpeners just to take the blades off and use them against my own skin.

How could I look him in the eyes properly after telling him something like that? He, who is so incredibly good by nature and kind. How could I taint that? How could I possibly bring him down with me to my hell and still be able to accept myself as a friend to him? He’s too good to be true, and it is true. He’s far too good for me that it seems like an impossible dream for me to be able to be with him more than how we exist now. Even our friendship seems to need to remain as shallow as it is. I can’t accept him taking me any deeper.

I think one time, he told me about his mom’s job. I think she’s a social worker. It was when I first told him that I had depression. I remember crying during and after that conversation. He told me that I couldn’t be. He had seen people that had it worse than me and I couldn’t be like them. I cried. I cried for hours after that. I think he was just in shock and trying to understand how someone close to him that he had a relationship with could be like this and he not notice. He wasn’t trying to hurt me.

But he did. His words cut deep and have run with me ever since.

I blame myself constantly for the way I am.

But I can’t change that.



I’m exhausted in so many ways.

Today was nice though. I had the day off both jobs, so I got my hair cut. Also bought some dresses and a pair of shorts. 

I have yet to buy a postcard for Calvin though. He sent me mine today. Or tomorrow. I’m not entirely sure how you’re supposed to look at that. The whole he’s 13-hours ahead thing really screws up a lot.

But I’m still recovering from the lack of sleep I let happen last week. I was practically consuming caffeine intravenously for 5 days. 

I don’t consume caffeine often. 

That was not a particularly good weekend.

My mood was all over the place. I would go from being perfectly content and relaxed to nervous and jittery to down and angst-y. It was not enjoyable to say in the least.

It was difficult to not let triggers get the best of me. It was also difficult to eat.

Granted, the past couple of days, that’s all I have been doing.

I’m very tired of all of this… inconsistency in my life.

I’m also very anxious about my future cat. I’m worried about not having enough money to support it, getting caught, and not giving it enough time. I know I won’t be working all that often in the fall and that my evenings will be devoted to that furry critter, but I tend to over-think things and fret over things I know I can do.

I know this cat will be a saving grace in a lot of ways. I know that I will be a loving and responsible caretaker. I know this cat will be difficult.

I know that I’m willing to make sacrifices in order to have this creature in my life.

All of my plasma donation money will go towards this cat. Money for play things, vet visits, and maintenance – all from that. I’m more than willing to do that. 

I’m so damned tired right now.

I had the day off.

What on earth…?

But for now, the world is turning quickly. My summer is starting to evaporate and I have a lot I want to do.

Playing the Fool

How did I do it you may ask.

How did I manage to fool everyone, including my doctor, that I was fine.

How did I make them believe that I really was improving? How did I convince them that I had a better grip on my anxiety?

Well, I’m fooled. I have no idea how I did it.

My dad always tells me every time he sees me or even on the phone about how I “have a better perspective on things” or that I’m “in a better place than a year ago”. My doctor marvels over my quick recovery and says it must be due to how I grew up in such unfortunate circumstances that I have such a high level of maturity and therefore was more equip to handle anxiety and depression. My friends from home don’t see any changes in me. They’re all shocked when they hear how last fall went for me. My scars are faint, barely even noticeable. 

Except to my eye.

I haven’t been able to really sleep in weeks. I stay awake at night unable to shut my mind off. I’m exhausted during the day. My anxiety has caused me to lose over 15 pounds in 2 weeks. I rely heavily on my beta blockers, which my supplies are running low, to get me through the day without freaking out. I still wake up most mornings wishing that I hadn’t woke up at all. 

Do you see now?

This is skimming the surface. These are the things that I notice. The bags under my eyes. The sick pleasure I feel when I step on the scale before donating plasma seeing that barely eating and doing some exercise and see how much I’ve lost. The constant condemnation I put myself through on a daily basis.

Today, while simply talking to my roommate, I had an attack. Heart palpitations. I felt so dizzy suddenly and my heart was racing and I couldn’t breathe. I had to sit down just to carry on the conversation. 

I’m not okay.

How did I possibly fool so many people to believe that I am?

Letting Good Things Go

I’m pretty upset right now.

I mean, it isn’t too big of a deal, but it just makes me sad.

I work at a really nice restaurant. It’s one of the few sushi places in town. I really, really like it there.

Unfortunately, business is really slow during the summer months. They also hired way more people than they actually need. It’s not that I don’t want to work hard to get shifts and such, it’s just I can’t afford to keep working so little.

I have less than 3 weeks to pull up a minimum of $400 and only one week more to pull up another $400. It’s not the kind of position I wanted to be in at all. I’ll probably go back to my old job just so I can start pulling some money up. Look for some other stuff too. Just… it’s frustrating. 

It sucks when you have something good going for you only for it to not really work out.

Especially from a job to not… you know… be working how you wanted to at that job.

It’s just sad to see a good thing go.

Because I Can’t

Can I just not?

I’m drunk beyond being comfortable right now.

I already threw up.

And I’m still in this spot.

Well, I only ate…. a protein bar and some potatoes today.

I get what I deserve for drinking as much as I did.

Even though I’ve been drinking water non-stop.


Not drinking water now.

Nor have I been for probably 20 minutes.

Okay, I just took a sip.

Or more than a sip.


But even so. I’m just so tired and want to sleep.

Multiple problems with that though.

I’m still pretty drunk right now.

I have to work tomorrow.

Even though my alarm clock by my bedside is set to go for tomorrow, I have no idea where my phone is.

My phone is my primary alarm clock.

I would feel much more comfortable with my phone by my side ready to wake me up tomorrow.

I hardly ever use my actual alarm clock so hopefully one ring will be enough to get me up tomorrow.

I can’t emphasize enough how screwed I am for work tomorrow.

I’m not going to show up on time.

Work’s going to be awful.

I’m going to be hungover the entire time.

This is my own damned fault.

I’m just so angry with myself. I’m so angry that’d I’d be stupid enough to keep drinking.

I had… approximately 7-8 drinks tonight. Overestimating to be safe.

I threw up. That’s probably about 3 drinks.

But I lost at least 3 drinks of water there.

So… I’ve had 4-5.

That’s my normal drunk.

My head hurts. I’m quite cognitive with most things, but like I said. My head really hurts now.

At least my friend probably made a profit off tonight.

I started off the night at my friend’s 21st birthday party. As the party grew, so did my uncomfortability (FUCK YOU IT IS A WORD.) So I left. When I got home, Lo and behold, there’s a small shindig here. Oops. I had a shot with my roommate. Mistake. Should not have done that at all. Since then, it’s been water, food, throwing up, food, more water, food, water, head hurts trying to write a blog post, ugh, want to sleep. ugh.

Story of my life.

Why I decided to get really drunk tonight, I will not know.

Why I decided to stop getting drunk for a long time, I will know.

I’m disgusted by my weight. It’s not something I can really hide from anymore.

I’ve been skipping meals, eating less, and seeing results. It’s bad. I know I’m probably at the point of having an eating disorder.

I no longer wish to drink a lot and such.

Not just because of tonight.

More so because drinking alcohol means consuming calories, then trying to sober up which means consuming even more calories, feeling fun for a while, but over all feeling awful.

At least if I do drink, no more than 3 drinks.

That’s my limit.

A healthy one.

I just can’t do it anymore.

I can’t let my stomach get any bigger.

I can’t let it.

I won’t.