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I feel kind of off and I can’t decide if I want to sleep in my room or on the couch and I can’t decide if I want to doodle pictures of Brittney Murphy in my dictionary or in my sketch book and I’m upset that I’m by myself so I’m just listening to Balance and Composure to try and fill the void but it’s not working and you can tell I’m upset because this is a paragraph worth of a run on sentence and I just want to smell the rain.

It’s late and I’m not tired and I’m just sad. It’s more numbness but there’s sadness behind it. I don’t even know how to put whats wrong into words. I feel like nothing is real. Rub my back and tell me my tattoos are beautiful when I cry.

"You have to keep choosing recovery, over and over and over again. You have to make that choice 5-6 times each day. You have to make that choice even when you really don’t want to. It’s not a single choice, and it’s not easy."

What it Means to Choose Recovery (via fourteendrawings)

fourteendrawings

I can tell I’m growing by my reactions to seeing certain things. Yes, my stomach is in knots. Yes, I would have preferred not seeing it. But no, this time I don’t want to slash my skin with broken glass. No, this time I won’t cry.

That first kiss video really..I don’t even know. I feel like I felt what they were feeling. My stomach is all weird and I’m smiling and that was just such an incredible thing to do. I hope a few of them stay in contact. I feel like some of them were just right. All of them, really. First kisses are so wonderful.

Something I have to work on is not taking things that have nothing to do with me personally. I have to stop feeling like everything is my fault, that I’m constantly doing something wrong.

I hate being so jealous and possessive but that’s who I am and it’s something I can’t change no matter how hard I try. All I can do is suppress it the best I can and be sure not to act on it because who am I to tell someone they belong to me when they don’t. Fuck that. I just have to sit here and get over it.

My heart hurts. I can’t handle thinking about my life and my family and Alaska and my future all at the same time. I thought I was coming back, I thought things were starting to become a little bit clearer but I’m set back again. I don’t see a future, again. Everything is a blur past tomorrow and I want to tear my body up with glass and break the bones in my hand. 

Found something I wish I didn’t while sorting my bookshelf.
Sobbing on the floor.
Crying all over the pages.
I can’t bring myself to get rid of it.
That was my life. Parts of it continue to be my life.
This just hurts so bad.

I know this is a temporary feeling but right now I feel that dying in my sleep tonight would be the most wonderful thing. 

Life has been throwing me all kinds of curveballs lately. I don’t know what to do, or what to think of it. But so far, I’m getting through it okay. And I guess that’s what matters, right?

I know this seems so horribly shallow but honestly if I think about the fact that I don’t have freckles too much, I get really really upset. Ever since I was little I’ve wanted them so bad and it bugs me enough to bring me to tears.

Not knowing if a deceased loved one would still love you even though you go against a lot of family beliefs and your goals are something that they hated is a really hard thing.

I feel so fucking pathetic and I’m so angry at myself that I’m in tears.

I really am so upset by Shirley Temple’s death. My grandma and I would watch her all the time and that was just our thing. None of the other grandkids were interested, but I was. And I don’t know, it sucks a lot. I hope she’s resting easy.