2.

At times I feel as though I can't not say what I wish to speak. I am prone to properness and mystery-but only because the world makes me think I should be. What's so wrong with being depressed? Especially about losing a parent. Losing a best friend. Losing your inspiration. People make me feel like I should be strong and I should let go. Maybe they're right, but is there really a proper way to go about these things? I can't get a new mother, and I can't bring her back. I can't go back. I put it off for two years. And here I am now, crying myself to sleep every night and continually thinking "this isn't fair" "what am I supposed to do?" "how can I possibly keep going?". All I think about it is the emptiness that now takes over the rooms in my heart. Her face, her hair, her laugh, and soft soft hands. I think about when she used to bring me candy from the store after she got off work-and when I was little that was the best surprise ever. I think about 8th grade and talking to her on the way to school about boys and my friends and all the things I wanted to do when I grew up. I think of all those times she was there for me when I was playing a game of soccer or getting an award in girl scouts, and when my dog died and she just held me tightly like a mother should. I think about the beeping in the hospital and the nurses going in out of her room. I think of the day we talked about death and how she wasn't going to do anything about preventing it anymore. I think about the last time I heard her talk and she told me she loved me very much. And now, two years later I think about her absence in her and my father's life. The lack there of at the dinner table and the comments that are never said in conversation from her end. I think about how I can't call her how I can't talk to her how I can't stare at her when she sleeps because I used as a kid, just so she could see me smiling the moment she opened her eyes. Sometimes I can't breathe and I feel numb all over. I could stare at the wall for hours stuck in euphoria with her on the beach. I've never heard of anyone being so depressed, maybe they just tuck it away like I did these past two years. It's mostly rough when my girl friends talk about their moms and I'm around families that are still whole and happy. I don't know that anything could ever make me feel happy again, and I know many times I've come close to that, but I gently when I think about her I am pulled back into that dark place that I know so well. I guess I like it so much because it's the only way I feel connected to her-because now, there are no new memories, no real way of bringing her up. I know that people are worried, but what do you expect me to do? This isn't a marathon to feel better or forget it all together. I'm not racing to finish. And it's not like I am torturing myself on purpose. I tried to fill this major hole with everything else, but nothing seems to fit. I don't want to be on anti depressants and telling some stranger how I feel wouldn't do much. I feel like I am constantly hyperventilating for happiness to reach me...to save me.

the glass is half full

I'm thinking I don't want this blog to be depressing, nor do I want to be like..super positive. I just want it to be more...inspiring. I don't want to go back and read these things and feel sorry for myself.

Last night Matty and I had a really good talk. I love it when we have deep talks. He makes me feel like myself and so comfortable. We went to the river and sat there just staring at the water and I kept thinking about what's going to happen in the future, but then I stopped myself- I want to enjoy right now and not later.

I want to keep pursuing photography and I'm going to stop say "but...blah blah blah (insert lame excuse here)". I want to find time to read, I truly love to read and get so addicted that I don't even notice anything else around me. I miss making things out of anything. I miss painting. I miss that smile I used to have on my face all the time.

The 28th is coming up soon. It doesn't feel like 2 years. It feels like..two minutes. Maybe two seconds.

She was not perfect, but she was the perfect mom for me. There is a special bond that daughters share with their mothers. I looked up to her so much, and I looked forward to going to college and receiving "I miss you so much letters" and boxes of surprises. She was just like that, and I hope if I ever have a daughter that I can do that for her. I wish I was half as pretty as her, I mean I look like her, but she's just like naturally beautiful to me. This is so hard for me. I don't want people to worry, and I don't want my dad to be sad either. I just want to feel better- have a peace of mind. It's tough and people say I make it look so easy, but a day doesn't go by that I don't think about her, and the mark she's left on my life and so many others. She shared what she had and that was love and kindness. I only hope to be as wonderful as she was someday to the people around me.

Once

..............everything used to be so beautiful and innocent, and now it's gone to shit.

Bang Bang

I feel as though I am losing the only person left on this planet that knows me better than I know myself. The person who knows I hate pickles and likes cheap beer. When I'm lying or hiding something. Knows when I am depressed and when I am truly happy.

But, if she talked to me like I wasn't her little sister, she would know I have let go of so many things she claims I hold on to. She says she lets go, but the difference between us is, I accept and let go and she pushes it away and moves forward. She can't talk about her mom or even confront her. And I know that hurts her, it hurts me to know she hides it and pretends its not what it is.

I thought about packing my things up and just driving. I don't know where I would drive to but anywhere would be nice. I could meet new people and get a little apartment and learn to cook italian and work in a little cafe and pretend I am someone else. But, I don't want to hurt the people around me and I don't want to run.

I keep thinking "What the fuck am I going to do with my life?" *sigh*

I have no drive to do anything at the moment, but that's because I have no set goal to reach. I think I'm too honest with myself when I say things like that. Cause really, my life is going to shit. What do I have to show for it? I work and I sleep and I visit my boyfriend and I have friends that I drink and hang out with. I haven't done anything exciting. I'm not changing the world or whatever. I used to be so involved and now it's nothing. I'm just here taking up space and wasting time.

I keep telling Matt that I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him- but what do I have to contribute? I'm worried. I'm worried I won't be a good wife or get a good job or ever leave tennessee or be a great mom if I decided to have kids. I'm so confused. I want to plan, but I don't. I want to be impulsive, but I shouldn't. Maybe this is apart of growing up, but I wish that I had some type of plan that made me feel good and made me come a live. I wish I could desperately talk to my mother about all of this. She would know what to do. I finally feel like my eyes are open, and I want to talk to her about that, but I can't. It's too late. And my dad wouldn't understand. My family wouldn't. A lot of my friends wouldn't. And I don't want to worry Matt with it, even though he's going to read this and ask me. I'm just saying how I feel baby.

I'm so stressed. I try to carry everything by myself. I try to raise myself. I try to be my own therapist, but it's not working lately. And if I try not to think, it just worsens the problem.


Blah...

Being depressed sucks.
Not being able to tell the people you love and just want to help you, sucks too.
Because they didn't do it, but they don't understand it. No one understands what I feel when I see curly brown hair or when my friends say "my mom does this, it's so annoying" or "she bought me this for my birthday" and all I can do is sit there and force a smile in agreement.

She used to borrow my earrings and wear my perfume, and it always ticked me off. I would get so silently hot headed when the pair I wanted to wear was missing, and in a way, I started to do that to my sister, which just made it worse. I don't even know why it bugged me so much. Now thinking about it, it was so silly. I wish she could still borrow my earrings-they lay on my dresser collecting dust, because I have no drive to wear them, I don't feel special anymore. She always made me feel special, especially when she wanted to be like me and smell like me. We were close and now she's dead.

I thought I wasn't mad at God until I pulled into my old church parkinglot last week and was overcome with so much pain and anger. I think, if there is a God, why didn't he save my mother? What did she do to deserve such a torching death? And why did God save that annoying 60 year old woman who would not shut up about her blessings on the phone ( but less in a humble way and more in a "yeah, I am the best and I'm not surprised because I am super cocky anyways way) while sipping on her fucking mocha latte and didn't tip me? I try not to think about where she could be, I know everyone wants to think she is in heaven, she was a christian, but I still kind of think she is inbetween, like she's watching over me. Sometimes I swear I'm being guarded by some super natural being.

Once, I thought I saw her at a clothing store. My immediate thought was to run to her and embrace her tightly. She sounded like my mother and from the back looked exactly like her, but you could tell, it wasn't her. Her eyes were baggy and she smirked like a slutty old tanning bad nascar watching red neck who drinks too much beer.

I could have had so many more memories with her. I get my wisdom teeth out soon, and she won't be here to tend to me and change out the goze in my mouth or make me soup or give me my meds. She doesn't ask how school is or if I'm going to be home late, I guess I just expect it when get in my car or am about to leave the house. Sometimes I pretend she does ask and I try to think of unique response, or even smart ass ones that I would reply with just to make her smile.

Something like..normal.

It's easier to hide how you feel when you're around people that don't know..they just pass you by on the street or smile at you when your at a party. These people are the easiest to pretend around, for all they know, you always look exhausted or out of it.

It hurts to see moms with their daughters. It hurts so damn much, and all I have are these pictures now.

I guess I'd describe this feeling somewhere between a really bad breakup and almost getting into a major car accident that you missed by an inch.

Maybe I shouldn't tell everyone about how I feel, but what does it matter? I'd rather feel something than walked around holding it in. I'd rather people know I'm just as confused as them, then as held together as we all pretend.

Today felt so normal, this weekend felt so normal. Maybe that's why I freaked. I hadn't crossed paths with normal in a long time.

I was laying there with Matthias, Saturday night, on the couch at his friend's apartment and I wasn't thinking about tomorrow or what happened yesterday or my mom or school or anything like that. I was just there. Smiling. Holding my man's hand. And being kissed on the forehead so treasuredly ( not a word..but that's how it felt). And today I was cleaning with my dad-we were actually working together and getting along. We were laughing and making lunch and playing with the dogs and it just felt, right..for once.

Tonight I went through old boxes of pictures of us as I grew up. Seeing my mother so young reminded me of myself. She must have been so unsure and yet she was willing to go all the way with anything and she certainly didn't quit. Alas, I am a quitter. I seem to quit a lot of things over the years, I'm awfully bad at finishing and sticking to goals. I hate to say it, but I need someone to encourage me a long; I think I'm just made that way, kind of like the rain, I only do so much and you either accept it or shelter yourself from it

I haven't wrote in so long, it feels good to for once.


I can't wait for this weekend, I can't wait to see the love of my life. I can't wait to hold his hand and kiss him....oh, dear god, I am a goner. I've never been so attached to someone in my life, but Matthias is the type of guy I have always dreamt of being attached to, after all he has turned me into mush. I have so many places I want to show him and people for him to meet, but that can't happen in just one weekend, I suppose.

The Beginning

these are some pictures I took one early morning. It had been raining all night and this was the beautiful morning dew. <3