Have You Ever Been Blue?

the following is taken straight from my sketchbook diary.



monday november 19, 2007

I watched girl, interrupted today and I was reminded why it is my favorite movie. I think the reason I love it so much is because I relate to it very well. Some of the monologues seem to make direct reference to me. Sometimes mine and Winona [Ryder]'s faces are interchangeable. She isn't sure what her sickness is about and neither do I.
When she is in Dr. Wick's office and brings up "ambivalence" I feel like they are talking about me.

"Do I stay or do I go?" "Am I sane or am I crazy?"

This has been a rough week. Not for any specific reason, but I actually told myself out loud that I don't want help. I don't want to get better. After weeks of not cutting, I cut. After months of not purging, I purged. Unlike in the past, I didn't hate it. I didn't regret it. I didn't hate myself. I didn't get caught.

This morning, I wasn't even depressed. I cut because I could. I did it because I couldn't think of a reason not to. I did it for the hell of it. I can still feel it burning and I like it. I was looking forward to lunch all day just so I could purge. I can't remember the last time I was excited to eat.

I think abot suicide all the time but don't think I could act on it because of all the people I would let down.



sometimes I feel like I care too much about other people's feelings. I decide on actions after carefully debating whether someone will get hurt or not.

they say suicide is the ultimate act of selfishness. but what if you have never been selfish in your life? I don't even know what that feels like.



sometimes I feel like a hypocrite for being a strong advocate for organizations like "To Write Love On Her Arms."

I would rather help everyone else in the entire world than help myself.

I donate money and spread the word of this anti-self injury organization, when I don't even feel like using them to help me. Kinda like competing in the Tour De France with no bicycle.

I can see my therapist for the rest of my life and never get one step closer to recovering. I have been given the tools, taught to use them but it will only work if I pick them up and use them.

I am at a point where I have been struggling to even pick them up and I am tired of trying so hard. Living in the midst of this habit is just so much easier than fighting it.

It has become a part of me. I don't know where my sickness ends and the real me begins anymore.

She Wouldn't Change Anything For The World

I've been really into punk the past few days and I think my favorite song at the moment is "Thrash Unreal" by Against Me!

(side note: i saw them at warped tour last year and they were amazing. see them live before you die)

anyway, here's the lyrics.

If she wants to dance and drink all night then there's no one that can stop her.
She's going until the house lights come up or her stomach spills onto the floor.
This night is going to end when we're damn well ready for it to be over.
Worked all week long now the music is playing on our time.
We do what we do to get by, and then we need a release.



You get mixed up with the wrong guys.
You get messed up on the wrong drugs.
Sometimes the party takes you places that you didn't really plan on going.
When people see the track marks on her arms she knows what they're thinking.
She keeps on working for that minimum,
as if a high school education offered any other options.
They don't know nothing about redemption.
They don't know nothing about recovery.
Some people just ain't the type for marriage and family.


No mother ever dreams that her daughter's going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughter's going to grow up to sleep alone.


She's out of step with the style.
She don't know where the actions happening.
You know the downtown club scene ain't nothing like it used to be.
You reach a point where there's not a lie in the world
that you could use to make the boys believe your still in you twenties.
They keep getting younger, don't they, baby?

She's not waiting for them to come over and ask for the privilege.
She can still here that Rebel Yell just as loud as it was in 1983.
There ain't no Johnny coming home to share a bed with her and she doesn't care.

No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to be a junkie.
No mother ever dreams that her daughters going to grow up to sleep alone.

If she had to live it all over again you know she wouldn't change anything for the world


these lyrics, for some reason, really struck a nerve with me.

i am not a drug addict.
i am not into the club scene.
i don't sleep around.

but somehow, i can relate to her.

people judge her by scars on her arms and i know how that feels.

who are they to assume they know who we are?
we aren't just some statistic. we aren't a number on a page of some psychology book.
we aren't broken, we are just damaged.

the thing that bothers me the most is when i see someone looking at my arms and make a face. most of the time, the face is in some form of disgust or as if to say 'freak' or 'emo.' but i hate when they don't say anything about it.
they don't even try to get the story straight. they see my arms and they think they know everything about me.

you don't



i am not ashamed of who i am. i am not going to change my life to impress you.
it is not like you don't have problems. we just deal with them differently.
i don't judge you for being an asshole, why judge me for cutting myself.

i'm don't like what i do, but just like the girl in the song, it's my life. you have no rite judge me. you don't have any business to be involved in mine.

we don't need your sympathy and we seriously don't want it either. all we need is a friend. all we want is for someone to hold us and tell us that everything is going to be ok.

we don't have to impress you and we don't plan on it either.





so yeah, keep this in mind. not only with scars or track marks, but anyone who may not look like you. no one is perfect, some just hide it better than others. you will never know what they are going through unless they tell you themselves.

i of all people know that not everyone who cuts, or has an eating disorder..not all of the cases are the same. you can't read a book about heroin addiction and immediately know the girl in the song's story. only she can tell you that.





^conversation between cory and me^