Archive | December 2013

2013 Recap

My year has been a hot mess.

2013 started out pretty rocky. I spent most of January and some of February at Brooke Glen Behavioral Hospital struggling with self-harm and suicidal ideation.

I honestly don’t remember any of March, and by the end of April I was back at Brooke Glen, where I spent most of May. I have quite a few blog entries that I originally wrote during this stay (which was my sixth hospitalization in my life). It was during this time that I was really encouraged by my peers to start a blog. The entries include My Life Is Like A Holocaust Joke — It’s terrible, but funny, Friends For A Week, It’s Like My Birthday, Except Not At All, and a couple others where I complain about hospital life.

When I came home from the hospital, I found out that one of my good friends from my first stay at Brooke Glen had passed away. I talk about her in my entry titled In Loving Memory of Makayla Mellert. I now plan on getting a tattoo in honor of her.

June seemed to fly by with nothing terribly memorable.

I was part of a theatre production with Millersville University in July. That same month I also ended up in the ER after cutting myself to the point of needing stitches, and I went to a Beyoncé concert only a few days after that. That was perhaps the greatest night of my life. It’s crazy to think that it happened so soon after such a low. One of only a couple entries I posted in July and perhaps my most profound of all time is Life After Death

In August, I turned 18 and got my first tattoo in honor of my best friend. It was a monumental moment for me. I talk about the full experience and effect it had on me in Inked and Inspired

Then school started and things went down rapidly again. I fell back into my depression. I blogged mainly about my darkness and hopelessness. The one year anniversary of Isaiah’s suicide passed. I planted a tree in his memory, I ate at one of our favorite restaurants, and one of my friends even spent the night with me in order to make sure I was okay. In my entry Trees and Tears, I explain a lot of the thoughts that circulated through my head for the entire month of October.

In November, for some unknown reason, things started leveling out. Not in a “Yay, I’m all better!” way, but in an “I don’t have to go to the hospital today” sort of way. I began trying to focus more on things like 5 Reasons Why I Don’t Want To Kill Myself instead of all the reasons why I so frequently want to.

December has been a roller coaster (as every day is in the life of an emotional teenager), but I’ve achieved my goal of reaching 100 days target-free (free of drugs, self-harm, etc.) As my reward, I got another tattoo, which you can see in my recent entry Being That Someone.

Overall, I have no idea how I feel about 2013. It’s just another year that’s disappeared.

Well, good luck to everyone in the new year.Image

We’re gonna need it.


A Year of Poetry III.

“Dear Isaiah,” from April 3, 2013:

They tell me you’re safe now

They say that you’re happy

They say chains are broken

and now you are so free

Is it selfish of me

to still want you here

feeling the pain and

fearing the fear?

Is it cocky of me to think that I could have stopped you?

It is tearing me up

to think I should’ve seen through

I’m dying without you

like you died without me

But nothing can change it

No apologies

I can’t cope much longer

I’m bleeding and broken

But I’m speechless without you

No comfort’s been spoken

I want to leave here

I want to come join you

We can be together

if what they tell me is true

Is it selfish of me

to still want you here

feeling the pain and

fearing the fear?

Is it cocky of me to think that I could have stopped you?

It is tearing me up

to think I should’ve seen through

Can you hear me?

I’m screaming

God, let me be dreaming

Just in case you aren’t busy

I really need you right now

Be with me some way

Touch me somehow

They tell me you’re home now

But I’m left in agony

And I can’t keep on living

without you and me

I’m left with no options

There’s only one thing to do

My only desire

is to hang here with you

—   —   —

“Friday Angst” from April 26, 2013:


Dope-filled bliss

Their dedication to medication questions all God’s meditation

Pill after pill attempting to kill

the monsters inside

But my monsters can hide

behind a smile for a while

like a patient pedophile

I’m laughing along

with a razor and bong

I’m not depressed for you all to see

My trigger is the only thing that’s happy

I need him back

even more than air

I want to follow

But I wouldn’t dare

Because I’m weak

and because I speak

I don’t have the heart

to leap from the peak

I still don’t believe that any of this is real

So I cannot feel and I cannot heal

—   —   —

“Goodnight, Isaiah” from April 30, 2013:

Sirens wails drown out the crying

over a boy who’s slowly dying

Red and blue flash against the white

Tonight a boy gave up the fight

The EMTs try to pump air

into a boy no longer there

The chord’s on the floor, still coiled tight–

the necklace a boy wore that night

His lifeless eyes stare into space

so they load him up and cover his face

They take the stretcher across the street

Where one last time two best friends meet


A Year of Poetry II.

*extreme adult language warning — oopsies*


“My Life Sucks” from an unknown date:

my life sucks

it’s like i’m being poked in the eye by that guy in the sky

that does or does not exist

depending on who you ask

but no answer is free

and if you ask me

that guy needs to get a bit better at multitask-ing

but that’s just my motherfucking opinion

whoops am i getting too rowdy?

just stick another syringe in

that’s right

that’s how it works here

everyone’s down on my weed and my pills

and they’re aiming at these demons inside that no one can kill

but they don’t understand it

i’m being haunted by a ghost

but what do they do?

shove more pills down my motherfucking throat

they want my substance abuse to subside

but it’s cool if i’m taking kpins on the side

not to mention the antidepressants

and antipsychotics

and all the other bullshit that my mom’s paying out of pocket

to fix me

but in this game, there’s no winning stroke

and at the end

we’ll both be

motherfucking broke

—   —   —

“Day 31” from February 7, 2013:

Everybody’s leavin’

that came before me

Now all these new kids come in

You bitches bore me

Then the new ones leave too

Why am I left behind

searching for a cure that nobody can find?

Yeah, I got the psych ward blues

Medication on my mind

I’ll take a few more pills

to try to make my hindsight blind

I’m falling apart

into a million fucking pieces

With each bit that breaks

the risk of suicide increases

—   —   —

“Fuck off” from March 28, 2013:

What the fuck do you want from me?

Can’t you see I already lost it all?

Try to knock me down–I fucking dare you

I don’t have a centimeter left to fall

Why the fuck do you want me now

after all these years of waiting?

Did you finally get the idea

that my fucking life is fading?

Does it even matter to you

that soon I could be dead

and no one could fucking stop me?

I’ll blow my brains out in your bed!

Keep calling my fucking therapist

if that’s all you need to satisfy

your desire for disconnection

This misdirection doesn’t fucking fly

I don’t forget my childhood

although I really wish I could

Now I’m left just to accept

that you’ll never be what you should

Toss in a few more gas-soaked logs

Keep fanning all the flames

And we’ll both just keep pretending

that I’m the only one to blame

I know your fucking game

I’ve been playing it all my life

I used to be your little pawn

Now look who holds the knife

I hope you drink away your pity

I hope you slowly wither away

And I’ll just be here laughing

I’m waiting for that day

That day that you leave

And by leave I mean for good

If I had a gun to help you

I so motherfucking would

Stop trying to push the ball

right back in my fucking court

It’s not my job to figure out

this sick, sadistic sport

I hope you fucking bleed out

I’d stand above you and scoff

Because I’m done with you forever

Get out of here–fuck off


That last one was a little harsh, huh? Just for the record, that’s not how I feel 9 days out of 10, but everyone needs angry days to keep them sane.

A Year of Poetry I.

As a fun new years activity, for the next day or two I will be posting various poems that I’ve written over the last year. Keep in mind that I spent many days this year in the hospital, so that’s where I did a lot of my writing just out of sheer boredom.


Here is “Day 19” from January 26, 2013:

There’s a place called hesitant resident hell

Getting better or worse?

There’s no way to tell

I’m bored out of my mind

And my pen’s still retired

So another day goes by

Tragically uninspired

There’s a pounding in my head

And a cramping in my hand

I’ve been falling down this rabbit hole so long

Wake me up when we get to Wonderland

—   —   —

“One of Us” from an unknown date:

These memories are killing me

And the freedom they preach just isn’t free

Even from their soapbox high

is the awareness that it’s all a lie

I’m falling deeper into this pit

and everyone is full of shit

Children die both day and night

So is the nature of our plight

There is no light at the end of the line

but everyone pretends they’re fine

Psych wards packed with broken hearts

who’ve forgotten where the story starts

Get hit my car, train or bus

Everyone belongs here

You’re one of us

—   —   —

And “Day 36” from February 12, 2013:

searching for some motivation


an invitation

but all this bullshit’s got me contemplating

the option of eliminating


my pain

in vain

because a failure to live

is followed by a failure to die

a refusal to lie

it’s got me trapped in this place

that’s just empty space in this race to replace

this disgrace that i feel

about feeling so real

though the feelings can’t heal

‘cause i still want those pills

and the thrills

with the rush of blood as it spills

and the desire to kill this thing inside

a mind so designed to hide

a truth that no one speaks

a damn that never leaks

so every pang of emotion

brings me closer to the edge

to a pledge

to a soul forever lost

Being That Someone


“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

-Dr. Seuss, The Lorax


I miss Isaiah today. I know that that’s nothing new, but it hasn’t been on my mind like this in a while. Since I’ve been doing relatively well, I haven’t really gotten stuck on him like this. 

When Isaiah took his life in 2012, I thought he had taken mine too. He and I decided years ago that we were going to make a difference together. Neither of us had an easy ride in life (although my experiences look like nothing compared to his), and we both struggled with some severe suicidality. When one of us would be struggling and made it known to the other, we would talk about our determination to change the world. We both just wanted to do anything we could to mean something to someone. After his death, I thought that both of our opportunities to have an impact had vanished. Now I see that we both still have a chance, and that chance is on me.

My new tattoo is a reminder that I need to make a difference. I am meant to make a difference. I believe that Isaiah was too, and he still is. He just needs to live on through someone else. I am more than honored to be that vessel. 

I care. Isaiah cared. And all it really takes is for someone to act through care and things will get better. Sure, one person can’t change the world, but I can change one person’s world. If I just do that, I’ll be happy, and I think Isaiah will be too.




It’s Christmas Eve and I’m Okay


The holidays haven’t particularly been a time of cheer in my life. However, this year, things aren’t so bad. I am actually doing okay. It’s kind of eerie. Holidays without misery are weird. I still struggle from time to time, but it’s only momentary. The rough spots typically last less than a day.

Let me start by saying that my “okayness” can be partially reflected in the fact that today is my 104th day target-free (free of self-harm, drug use, suicidal behavior, etc.). If you read my entry Day 79, you would know that that means I am officially eligible for a tattoo that my mom promised me for after I reach day 100. My appointment is on Friday. I will be getting a tattoo of a truffula tree (seen above) from the beloved Dr. Seuss book The Lorax. It will be accompanied by the word “UNLESS” which is a shortened version of a quote from the book: “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” I’ve been planning this for quite some time and I’m super excited that I’ll finally be getting it. 

Another thing that’s got me feeling fine for the holidays is Beyoncé’s surprise album that came out earlier this month. She released it on iTunes without any prior singles or warning. All of the songs are “album only” and 17 music videos come along with the 14 songs. It’s such a good album I’ve almost completely forgotten about Lady Gaga’s ARTPOP and Eminem’s Marshall Mathers LP 2 (at least for the time being). 

This year I got freakishly excited for giving gifts. I’ve given all of my friends’ their gifts (I think). They ranged from Oreos to “artRave” tickets. I’m not sure why this was so different. Maybe I’m just in a clearer space in my head so I’m able to think about less dramatic things like that. I got so anxious that they’d all hate their presents that I almost exploded. I still get the excitement of giving my family their presents. A friend of my sister’s joined our family for Christmas this year. She’s from Taiwan and she’s really sweet and cool and funny. I like having her around. It’s like having another sister, and of course, another person to give presents to.

I don’t remember a lot of Christmases from my childhood. I think I might be repressing them. I’m not trying to make it seem like I had it really rough; I didn’t. Things were just never as happy as we pretended they were. That’s an extremely simple way to put it anyway. The most recent years haven’t been great even with my dad out of the picture. It’s still a struggle with family issues, probably even more now than before because I have to navigate the choices I’m faced with about whether or not I choose to interact with my dad’s family. It just kind of shoves some sensitive topics in my face.

In 2012, I was so consumed by Isaiah’s death that I can’t remember Christmas at all. All I remember from that time of year is grieving, and it wasn’t too long after the holiday season that I was hospitalized. 2011 was very rough too. It was mental breakdown after mental breakdown eventually resulting in a hospitalization in Massachusetts. I can’t remember 2010 at all, and Christmas of 2009 also fell in between two hospitalizations.

Historically, winter in general has not been a great time of year for me, so let’s hope that this year breaks that streak. I have a feeling that it will.

I hope you survive and thrive this holiday season. 

Merry Christmas (if you’re into that sort of thing) from Mrs.Claws!


Why Are People So Nice?

Are people in the world getting nicer? It seems like they are. Recently, I’ve been in various situations where people have been so incredibly nice it’s ridonkulous. I don’t know what it is. I don’t think I’ve changed that much. I’m not more deserving than I ever was before.

Going back a little further, ever since I started blogging about serious things, I’ve been getting comments, messages and even a letter supporting my blog and me. It’s shocking to me how much of a response I’ve gotten to some of my posts. Many of the people who have contacted in me are  people that I don’t even know or haven’t spoken to in ages. The fact that anyone even takes the time out of their day to read what I write means the world. I was in no way expecting people to so much as read this blog, let alone go out of their way to let me know that they’re there for me.

My teachers this semester are extremely nice and understanding. I’ve struggling with classwork and homework ever since my emotional problems seemed to take over my life in middle school. Up until that point, I exceeded many of my peers in school. I hate to talk about it because I worry it makes me sound pretentious, but it’s true. I used to think getting an A- was horrendous. Now I’m struggling just to pass. I have a Special Education IEP that helps my teachers know how to best work with me, and I have an emotional support teacher, a guidance counselor, and a school psychologist to help me communicate with them as well. My teachers adapt assignments and give me a significant amount of individual attention even though I’m really just a slacker and a hot mess. It’s almost how shocking how kind to me they can be.

It seems like my peers have been increasingly great to me. I get along with most people really, and most people treat me very well. At school, even people that I’m not super close to accept me the way I am. Sure, people look at my scars. They know that I’m in emotional support and know how I identify. No one seems to really give a fuck about that. I don’t mean that in a very bad way either. There’s a surprising lack of judgement between those surrounding me and me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I have the best friends in the world. They’re always helping me out, whether I need a ride or a little extra cash or just someone to listen or a good time.

Even strangers are nice. The other day, my mom and I went to Party City to buy pinatas, and when we got back to our van, the key wouldn’t turn in the ignition switch. My mom decided it would be a good idea to go into Home Depot because people there are “fixers”. The first guy we talked to agreed to come out into the parking lot and take a look. After a bit of activity in the twenty-some degree weather, he ended up giving us a free copy of the car key and a free hammer (for some reason, tapping the key into the ignition with a hammer is how we need to start the car now). 

Our neighbors are also crazy nice. Like, what? Why is everyone nice all of a sudden? A few weeks ago, someone mowed our lawn. We still have no idea who. Earlier this week, one of our neighbors fixed our ratchet mailbox that had been held somewhat upright by string since summer. And just yesterday we received a very generous gift card for Christmas from one family on our street. We rarely even talk to these people.

Isn’t all of that nuts? I’m sure that the world isn’t getting any brighter than it was before. Maybe my eyes are just opening up to all the caring and love that still exists in the world. I just hope that I can have even close to the same affect on even one other person. I hope that I can someday make someone rethink their negative preconceived notion about the state of the world. I want to reach out, I want to understand, I want to accept, I want to be there, I want to help someone in a parking lot or fix someone’s mailbox. I want to be someone’s hope.

Update: One of my close friends just walked to my house in the freezing rain at 9 o’clock at night to bring me homemade cookies. Like what? Why are people so nice?!