Divorce questionnaire for Shelby.

1. As a child of divorce, did you find yourself generally angrier than not while growing up? Did this emotional struggle affect your relationship with your peers (friends, other siblings, relatives, etc. Even parents)? Please describe. .

My mom and my real dad divorced before my first birthday, and when my real dad left, he never looked back. That caused a lot of problems for me growing up; I was always angry at him, and because of teasing from other kids on the playground, I started to feel unworthy of anyone's love, because "if my own dad didn't love me, why would anyone else?"  as they would tell me. Growing up, I believed that. When my mom started dating my would-be stepdad when I was 13, I didn't want to give him a chance because of the things my real dad did. I blamed him for things he didn't do, and hated him for things that were done by another man, twelve years prior. I was afraid to let my stepdad in because I was afraid that he would abandon us just like my dad did, and lo & behold, he did in 2010. (Since that's the divorce that effected my life the most, I'm using that to answer the rest of the questions) After that, I got angrier. I hated him and his whole family. He had made promises to my mom and I that things were different with him than my real dad, and he wouldn't hurt us. I was angry at him for saying those things, I was angry at him for moving me away from my school and friends and to a different state twice in one year, I was angry at him for not loving me (even though I never wanted to love him), I was angry at him for what he did to my mom, I was angry at myself for having started to believe things would be okay before he upturned everything again.

2. Since most parents are quite busy dealing with their own end of the situation, the children involved tend to be forgotten about emotionally. ( Parents also generally do not know how to handle the trauma that their child is facing because of this event.) If you felt in any way that you were emotionally neglected during the time leading up to/during the divorce, please describe. 

Between the January that my stepdad announced he wanted the divorce and the June that my mom and I left Montana and our family, I pushed everyone away. I didn't want to let them in, so I think I emotionally neglected everyone in my family. I tried to be there for my mom, but I was angry at her for letting it happen, even though it was my stepdad's fault. After my mom and I were headed back to California, we both fell apart. She was the worst, and I was too busy putting up the I-Don't-Care front, so I was holding my mom together. During the first few months, I wanted to rebuild the relationship with her that my stepdad had damaged, and I tried to open up to her. Anytime I would talk to her about my problems dealing with the division of my family & the second complete upheaval of my life in one year, she would twist it around to her. She never wanted to acknowledge that I was having some difficulty too, just her, she was the only one allowed to be upset in her mind, and my purpose was to make her okay again. 

3. When looking towards your future, did you feel that you were lacking the structure to determine any ambiguous goals? (Career, relationship, life in general, etc.) Please describe..

YES! It's been driving me insane. I have no idea what I want to do with my life, career wise, where I want to live, anything. I don't even have the desire to keep friends much anymore. I don't feel any drive to strive towards anything anymore.

4. Growing up, were you a rebel? (More than the average teen). Did you ever take to alcohol or any other substance to numb the pain? Please describe..

Yep. After the split, the move back to California, and my mom's emotionally shutting me out, I started sinking into a really, really, really dark place. My friends introduced me to ecstasy with the promise of "it'll make you feel better, so much better. You won't even remember you're sad for hours." And that just sounded like the greatest thing ever. So I tried it, and their promises didn't do the pills justice. I became hooked. I would lie, and steal, and be a complete asshole to anyone who tried to get between me and the next time I could get some ecstasy. I didn't care about anything but finally being happy, even if it came in the form of a ten dollar pill and was temporary. 

5. In the relationships that you have experienced since the divorce, have you found yourself more cautious when choosing your partner? (Whether it be friends, lovers, etc.) Have you found yourself unsatisfied with the people that you choose to spend your time with? Are the people that you have been/are spending your time with also children of divorce? Please describe..

Yes, very much. I'm so much pickier with everyone. I've put up ridiculous walls, and don't like letting new people in. I have this fear of letting new people in; that I'll get close to them and get attached and they'll just up and leave & never look back just like my real dad, stepdad and step-brothers did. The people I hang out with are from all different family backgrounds. I have some friends who's parents have been married forever, some who's parents are divorced, dead, in prison, I haven't been specifying like that.

6. What is your view on marriage?

I think that if you're going to make that kind of commitment, you should stick to it. You should be absolutely 100% sure that no matter what happens, the person you're saying those vows to is the person you want until the day you die. 

7. Was the relationship between your parents’ low conflict or high conflict? (Were you surprised by the divorce, or did you see it coming?) Please describe.. 

My parents were ALWAYS fighting. In the four years they were together, I think that they would fight more than they would have civil conversations. My step-brothers and I just figured that that's the only way they knew how to talk to one another. Anytime my stepdad would get pissed off, he would threaten to divorce my mom. All. The. Time. Even before they were married, no joke. So when he dropped the bomb in January 2010, none of us believed him. We genuinely thought it was just another one of his threats he threw out there when he was pissed off. . . until three days before their anniversary in March when he went to the courthouse in an attempt to get the marriage annulled. When they told him that his time frame was up, he brought home actual divorce papers and hung them on the fridge. That's when we knew he was serious, and even though he would threaten it all the time, we knew he meant it that time. We were all surprised.

8. How is your relationship with your parents now? Please describe..

My mom and I are great. The divorce ruined who she was, but she's since rebuilt  herself into a much better person. She's less stressed and a lot nicer to me. My stepdad and I don't have a relationship, he could die tomorrow and I would probably smile, in all honesty.  

9. What is your view on divorce? Please describe..

Divorce is so awful. No one gets out unharmed. Everyone tries to one up each other on hurting one another to hide their own hurt. The people you used to depend on to make everything okay are suddenly the cause of your pain. Especially the kids. Everyone hurts.

Family apparently isn't forever.

There's very little that I hate more than family get togethers. It sucks, because that used to be the one thing I loved the most. But now, I can't stand them. In fact, I dread them. Here is every holiday, birthday, family dinner whatever in a nutshell.. .

Mom; bitches about everything I do. Nothing is ever good enough. I can not make her happy. All I do is fuck up. She also likes to bitch about her ex-husband. Sometimes her job. But mostly it's about every single thing I do or say and how I'm not good enough.

Granny: Listens to mom, fuels her fire. Nags at me about the things I'm doing/not doing etc.

Gramps; Has to obsess over Sydd and Daisy (dogs) and everything they do. Whatever move they make, he has to talk about it. Even if it's something that they do all the time. If I had a dollar everytime he told me how Sydd likes to sleep at night, and how much Daisy likes butter. . . But this only goes on until he eats too much and gets sick. And then he'll whine and moan in between talking about the dogs. And then he'll fall asleep. Also he makes a point to fart and burp as loud as he can and repeatedly ask everyone to kiss his ass.

Uncle Nick: The only reason these things are tolerable. He tells hilarious stories and gives terrible advice. Sometimes he makes sacreligious jokes, which gets my religious grandparents panties in a bunch. He's great.

Aunt Annie: She's almost always "sick" anytime there's a family get together. She really does get sick a lot, but frankly I think she just hates these things as much as I do. So she usually stays at her house, lucky bitch.

Me: I sit on the computer, eat when I have to, only talk to my uncle really. Occasionally play with the dogs. Avoid listening to the family tell me how awful I am.

I don't really know when everything changed. I can't pinpoint a particular time, but I know we used to be happy. And now we aren't. We used to be the family that I thought couldn't be broken.  And then we broke. I don't know if the whole family changed, or if I just realized that things suck. Maybe I was in denial before, I don't know.

I used to think my mom liked me, but I think she blames me for her marriages failing. Especially with Travis. It was never a secret that Travis and I didn't get along. We would fight all the time, and that probably was part of why they split up. I think if I had never been born, she would still be with my real dad. Or at least she would have been until he died. I think that if I wasn't born, she would still be with Travis. I think she knows that too. I think that's why she hates me so much now. She won't admit that she hates me, but I can tell she does.

People tell me not to be silly, that my mom loves me, I'm her daughter blah blah blah. And maybe she does, partially. But at least a part of her resents me. I'm very good at reading people, and I can tell that she doesn't like me. Not that it would take a genius to figure out anyway, but really. . .

I know she used to love me. She used to be there for me, when I would go to her upset she would move heaven and earth to make things okay again. And then one day she stopped.

Now, anytime I try to talk to her about my depression she goes out of her way to make me worse. She bullies me.  She tells me how my problems aren't real. I'm over-dramatizing. I don't have real problems because I'm still young. Her problems are so much worse. I let other people control my emotions. Blah. Blah. Blah. Belittling. And then, as if having my issues brushed off like they don't matter - and knowing that to her, they don't - isn't bad enough, then she has to point out every flaw I have. And she doesn't even try being nice about it. In fact, I think she tries to be as mean as she possibly can, bring me down as far as I can go.

I don't know why I keep having these conversations with her. . . I just, I want her to care. I want one time to be different. I want her to listen to me. I want her to understand that half the time, I don't even know what's wrong. Some days I'm just really really down. But that's not okay. I just want her to understand that all I want is for her to make even a half-assed attempt to seem as if she cares.

Instead, I end up crying until I can't breathe and I always want to kill myself. I really do seriously consider suicide, because I feel so low and my heart physically hurts. The only thing stopping me is that I never had the guts to hurt myself, much less kill myself. I'm too chickenshit.

Crying is not allowed in my family. My grandma hates it and now so does my mom. They both say that they "didn't raise a pussy". My grandma has no tolerance for it at all, and if I'm crying when my mom is bringing me down, it just makes her meaner. The more I cry, the more awful the things she's saying to me get.

Right before thanksgiving, I had a particularly bad day. I had nightmares all night the night before, and when I woke up, I had a major migraine. I checked my facebook to find out that a friend of mine had passed away. I knew it was coming, he had been diagnosed with brain cancer. I didn't know him super well, but it hit like a ton of bricks. I neglected my chores that day and left my house. When my mom found out I didn't do my chores, she demanded an explanation. I explained what happened, and how I didn't want to be alone. Instead of asking me if I was okay, instead of hugging me or comforting me in any way, mother of the fucking year started yelling at me for not cleaning my room and that's all she focused on. Still to this day she hasn't asked if I was okay. I am, but that's beside the point. I just want her to care.

For the last almost three years, since Travis said he wanted a divorce in January 2010, she's been so wrapped up in hating her ex husband that it seems she's forgotten how to love her daughter. Because the honest to god truth, I really don't think she loves me anymore. I know I have it tattoo'd on my wrist, and honestly sometimes I regret doing that. Because it's a constant reminder that though she did when I was 10, 12, and 15 (the birthday cards I got the handwriting from) she doesn't now.

I don't know what feeling is worse. Having a dad who never loved me, or having a mom who used to love me but changed her mind. . .

Started my life out getting abandoned, and not a damn thing has changed.

Hi, my name is Rebecca and I hate you all.

Just kidding . . . kinda. That only really applies to some people, mainly the people who've been making me feel like shit lately. I've been kinda quiet about it up until now, but I don't want to be quiet anymore. I don't want to allow people to walk all over me anymore. I don't want to be unappreciated anymore. I don't want to be asked for help anymore, if I'm just going to get bitched at for trying to help. I don't want to be lied to anymore. And I'm DONE being taken for granted. I've been holding back a lot of things lately, and I'm kinda over it. So now I'm laying it all out on the line. And probably, people aren't going to be too happy with me. So, I'm going to refresh your memories of something I've been saying for a while. I blog for me, not for you. Please keep that in mind if you're going to continue reading.

First of all, Missoula/Shannen/Paul Mitchell. Missoula isn't happening. I'm not moving there, I'm staying here. I had no real life plan there, but here, I do. I enrolled in the Paul Mitchell Academy, and classes start in the Spring. Shannen isn't coming here though. I don't know what her plan is. But she bailed on everything her and I had planned just because I wanted to change the location. Should I be upset? I don't really know. But, I am. At first I wasn't, but then it sunk in. Anddddd now I am. A lot, actually. I finally have figured out my life and I'm doing things to enrich my life, and she's going to stay in Havre because she doesn't think she can "leave her family". The family she's always talking about not liking. Whaaaaaatever. Aha. So, yes, I am pissed and hurt and sad. But I'm not going to let her call the shots in my life, so I'm staying here and changing my life, even if I have to do it alone.

Kelson and I aren't really friends anymore, so quit asking me about him. I have no fucking idea. We don't talk unless he thinks something I post is about him. If I text him first, it'll be maybe ten texts until the conversation dies. He's proven to me that our friendship was merely one of convenience for him, and it does suck, because I really thought he was my best friend. Apparently, I was incorrect.

And then there's Levi. Truly have no idea what the fuck is going on here, but he's off in his own little world away from me, I guess. I've been telling him for years that I was going to get him away from his dad as soon as I could. Now with me moving out of my own house within the next few months, I told him that my house would always be open, and I want him to come live with me. And he pretty much told me he's going to stay with his dad.. .


And then, I started really thinking about my dad this last week. My real dad kind of started this whole chain of events in me. The low self esteem, the abandonment issues, the fear of falling in love, the feelings of worthlessness, the way I feel easily replaced and unimportant. I've always known what happened, but I really never wanted to admit that he's the reason I'm so emotionally fucked up. I started my life out getting abandoned. My own father didn't even love me, why would I think anyone else would?  It was only recently that I began to admit to myself the problems he caused me.

I've always known how his ashes were split up. My grandparents got half, and rightfully so. And my younger brother got half. . . which leaves me absolutely not even a single fucking speck. I don't have anything of my dads. I never did. When he died, it all went to Austin. I don't know who split his things up, but whoever did must have forgotten that I was my fathers kid too. I deserve SOMETHING too. My brother got our dads truck. Our dad's clothes. Our dad's everything, and half of the man himself. What did I get? Did I get anything? NO. I got nothing. I mean, I got some social security checks from the government every month until I turned 18. I got a car out of it. But that wasn't anything of his. And Austin got half of that too, actually.

So, family. Why didn't I get anything? Why didn't I get a portion of his ashes? Why didn't I get the truck my mom helped pay for? Why didn't I get any tshirts or jackets or the hat or his and my moms wedding ring? Why didn't I get a goddamn thing? Instead, some of you helped hide him from my mom and I, when you knew what he did and how much I needed him. Just because my dad abandoned me, doesn't make me any less his kid. I wish I did. I wish that I didn't have to live every day knowing that from day fucking one, I wasn't good enough. My own father didn't love me, and don't try and sugar coat things and say he did. If he did, he wouldn't have abandoned me and hid from me and never helped my mom take care of me or anything.

If you have anything of his, I would like something. It's about 13 years overdue, but I've been quiet for too long because I didn't want to offend anyone. But now that I've been thinking about it, you guys offended me. It's not like you forgot I existed. You all still talk to me. Jon & Kirk, you still even talk to my mom. So why did no one think of me when you were dividing my dad and his things? Why did none of you think I would want to someday know him, and know why he did the things he did. I can't do that if I have nothing to know him by. My mom tells me stories sometimes, but I don't know which to believe and which are nonsense, since some of them contradict one another. But you can't get to know a man through his ex-wife. That's never a good place to start. Regardless if she's my mother or not. When his things were being sold after they got divided between Austin and yard sale- did no one stop and think that maybe I would like something? Who was in charge of splitting my dads stuff? Seriously. I want someone to answer me. I want the truth. It's bad enough being abandoned by your dad, but being forgotten by your family sucks a whole lot too.

The harder you fall, the higher you bounce.

It's been an extremely long nine years, but I think I've finally overcome my depression.

Two or three weeks ago, I had this dream. In my dream, I was walking around this huuuuuuge house with my friends Matt and Garrett, and some other people I don't remember. Garrett was going to rent out rooms in this mansion to Matt and I. Matt and Garrett hit it off pretty well, and while they were talking I decided to give myself a tour of this house. There was a big black dog in one of the rooms, and it apparently didn't want me there. So this dog chased me around the house, until I came to this staircase. The doorway to the staircase was extremely small though, doggy door sized.  And out of nowhere comes Matt, and he's like, "You don't have to go through the doorway like that." And he kicked the fucking wall down and we walked up the stairs normally.

I've had a lot of dreams like that, where the stairs are closed off by this horribly tight space and I always struggle to get through the doorway for a while before I give up. Everytime, a voice says "You let it consume you. You're not this." Dreaming of tight enclosed spaces means that there's something in your waking life holding you back and restricting you from achieving your goals. I never understood it til that morning, but I think my depression was what was being represented.

When I woke up that morning, I was free. I didn't just feel free, I was freed. I felt lighter, happier, I felt like the weight of the world wasn't on my shoulders anymore. I had gotten so used to waking up and feeling the weight of everything bearing down on me that I simply didn't notice it anymore. Not until it was gone, at least. I had forgotten what it felt like to be genuinely happy. What I thought was genuinely happy, it would only last for a few hours or days at a time. I'd have extreme highs and extreme lows. I'm not sure if I'm bipolar. Sometimes I think I could be, other times I think that I'm not, because I don't have enough symptoms. Anyway, my life has drastically improved. My sleeping schedule is normal. I don't know how it happened, but for the first time in years, I'm asleep before midnight, and willingly wide awake long before noon.

I've also stopped taking people in my life for granted. It's become habit to say that I don't have friends. And that isn't true. I have friends, I just don't have nearly as many as I used to. But the people who are in my life, they're quality fuckin' people. I absolutely have the best bestfriends ever. I do want to dispel some crap about my friendships with Shannen and Rachel.

Shannen first. Sometimes, she annoys me. So what? That doesn't mean I don't love her. Yes, her and I didn't get along in the past. But that was like six months ago, get over it. Sometimes I get frustrated by her inability to make a choice, but not because it effects my life. I get angry because it effects the life of someone else I care about. So when I hear that I shouldn't be friends with her anymore because sometimes she irritates me, I get annoyed. I'm SO sick of hearing that. Why should I give up on Shannen? She has absolutely NEVER done anything negative to me. She's never done or said anything to hurt me. She has never done or said anything against me. She doesn't put me down. She doesn't have even the slightest of negative effects on me directly. In fact, as far as friends go, she's one of the best I've EVER had. So what if she can't stick to a decision. That doesn't make her a bad friend to me. That doesn't make her crazy. That doesn't make her a negative influence in my life. That doesn't make her someone I'm going to walk away from. If we're talking about how she treats me directly - no one else involved, just her and I - she is exactly what a best friend should be. I wish more people in the world were like her. Shannen betters my life, and so NO. I will not stop being friends with her. If my friendship with her causes problems in your life, you should reevaluate your priorities. Your opinion of Shannen will not change my opinion of her, especially if you've never actually met or talked to her or even tried. It's no ones fault but your own for not knowing her on the same level I do. Betcha if you did, you'd love her as much as I do.

Rachel. Yes, we don't fight. No, that doesn't mean we don't annoy the fuck out of one another. After three years and way too many extremely nasty fights, her and I have worked out a system. If she gets mad at me, or I get mad at her, we stop talking for as long as it takes to simmer. Her and I both know that our tempers and our stubborn always-have-to-be-right personalities don't always click. Absolutely nothing gets solved if we fight. All that happens is we make matters worse and we destroy one another. That's no way to behave if you want to keep a friend. So yes, we will stop talking. Rather it be for minutes, hours, or even a few days, we've been doing this for almost two years and guess what? Haven't had a single fight. Our friendship is stronger than ever. Rachel and I are about as opposite as two best friends can get. We are NOTHING alike, and that's GREAT 98% of the time. But sometimes it does cause problems. Her and I grew up in entirely different worlds. I don't understand what it's like to live the way she does, and she doesn't understand what it's like to live the way I do. Everything about us is different. Our families, our faith, our hobbies, our friends, our clothes, the way we do our makeup, just literally everything. Things that are important to her are the last thing on my mind, things that are important to me are the last thing on her mind. She's extremely Christian, and I'm extremely unsure what the hell I believe in. I hate it when people pray for me, but she's like "fuck you, I'm doing it anyway." I understand why she does it, and I do appreciate her caring. I really do. She wants me to believe and go to heaven with her. If the situation were reversed, I would do the same thing. Unfortunately for her, I'm too stubborn. And I don't want to believe. I know she worries about me, and I just get annoyed. I'm ridiculous. So I get frustrated that she thinks she's going to change my mind, she gets frustrated that I won't change my mind, and that's just that. The other night, we got annoyed with one another for this exact reason. We got annoyed and didn't talk for a few days. Today, we had a deep talk and everythings back to normal. This is how we work. Yes, sometimes I want to punch her. But even then I still love her. I know how when we're angry with one another, we both act like we don't give a fuck about our friendship. But after three years and working as hard as we did to get to where we are now, we're not going to give up just like that. This girl and I have some ugly things in our past, and some skeletons in our closet that I really wish didn't happen. But our awful past makes me appreciate her now that much more.  I know how much it sucks not having her to run to with every weird little thing that happens to me. I know how much it sucks without her in my life. I never want that to happen again. Yeah, she was a bitch when she was sixteen. She said and did really awful things. But what you all seem to forget is that I'M JUST AS GUILTY. Our fights were never one sided. It was NEVER all her. It takes two to fight, so when I say we fought, it was both of us. Now I could understand if I said she bullied me and I never fought back. But that was never how it was. In fact, I started some of those fights. But, she saved my life. She has stood by me through so much. She's held my hand and walked alongside me through every step I took to better my life, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate her for that. She gave me a second chance at life. If you don't know that story, don't judge her. A lot of the time, she's been all I've had. And no matter how much of an asshole I've been to her, she still loves me the same. Sixteen year old rachel sucked. Sixteen year old me sucked. Her and I are entirely different people now. We've both grown up and matured, and we are not who we were when we were sixteen. (Thank god.)

The moral of those two insanely long paragraphs, Shannen, Rachel and I all get annoyed. None of us are perfect. None of us are fault less. But, I love them, and they love me. And when you love someone, you put up with whatever bullshit is thrown at you, every demon that chases them, every good day, every bad day and every bad day inbetween. Most friends these days give up on one another when things get rough, but I'm so blessed to have Shannen, Rachel, Levi, John, Katie, Kelson, Leon and Seejay by my side through everything. I may not have many friends, but the friends I do have mean everything to me.

Things with my family were a little rocky for a while, but I think a lot of it was just me overthinking things. Ever since my life kind of changed after that dream, everythings been better with my family. Everything is the way it should be. This morning I woke up early and had coffee and just sat and talked with my Gramps. Last night I stopped after work and got my mom dinner because more often than not she doesn't get time to eat at work. The little things really make so much of a difference.

This whole thing has really opened up my eyes. I have a great life. I'm surrounded by wonderful people that I love to the ends of the earth. I'm not alone. I don't have to face anything alone. Nothing will defeat me.

I'm on a mission to change my life even more. Rachel's getting healthier and working out more, and she's also been working on her faith and she's a lot happier. I'm jealous. I've been trying to eat healthier and be healthy too. I've got 90lbs I want to lose, I just need someone to kick my ass when I start to slack. Mel and I are gonna start working out more, and I'm thinking about getting a personal trainer too. I need someone to help keep my ass in gear. I want to change my life, and I'm even willing to listen to what Rachel has to say about her religious stuff. I'm not saying I'm going to believe or anything, I don't know what is going to happen. But unless I try, I still wouldn't know what would happen. So, I'm going to give it a chance. Rachel's been right about what I need to better my life before, she's probably right about this too.

My self reinvention has started, and I'd like all the support I can get. (:

My life story by Georgi.

Driving down Road Ln. in her ‘01 SlugBug she affectionately called Winston, Rebecca looked out her driver’s side window at a happy couple conversing excitedly. Rebecca scoffed. What were they talking about? The economy? Bon Iver? The Romney Campaign? Brangelina? One could only guess, but what Rebecca knew for certain was, white people suck.

Rebecca had felt this way for years and not a single one of her friends could get her to see the light, or in her case, the white. 

“I just can’t stand watching these fucking crackers prance in around in their Sketchers Shape-ups and Rayban glasses, Jamal!” Rebecca was venting again, and by now Maria, Carlos, and Juan-Carlos had already snuck off into their fuschia colored low-rider to avoid another hour long rant. 

Jamal fired a few watermelon seeds from his mouth, and they ricocheted off the floor like bullet shells. “You trippin’ Becs,” he said. Then he was all like, “Do we really gotta go through this again?”

“THEY DIDN’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT UGANDA, JAMAL. WHITE PEOPLE JUST THINK SOCIAL ACTIVISM MAKES THEM IMPORTANT.” Rebecca took a deep breathe, and angrily thrust her hand into the bucket of KFC on the coffee table. “Ya know,” she started. “I think the worst white people invention is vegetarianism.” Despite his resistance to agree with Rebecca’s blatant racism, Jamal couldn’t help but nod. White people food was WHACK. 

Sim Poy Li and Kevin Su entered the living room with their bowls of white rice, ready for a long night of Rebecca’s prejudice and, if the time permitted, some Sailor Moon. “Hey Sim! Hey Kev!” Rebecca was glad they entered, so she could tell them about her latest and greatest, (and racist) idea. “Why don’t we just, like, separate things for white people, and normal people, you know? Separate schools, separate stores, separate water fountains…”

“Rebecca that’s not legal, that’s called…”

“Hold that thought! I have to pee!” said Rebecca, and Sim Poy Li’s heart sank. She realized had forgotten to re-cover the bathroom mirror. She looked regretfully up at Kevin Su and Jamal with squinty eyes, and the trio braced them self for an all too familiar sound.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”

Rebecca looked into the mirror. It had to be dream. No, a nightmare. Worse. A white-mare. She ran her pale, and nicely manicured finger tips over the frames of her Rayban glasses. Her highly overpriced “Legalize Gay” v-neck she didn’t remember purchasing at American Apparel seemed to glare at her. When she looked down at her strategically torn skinny jeans and canvas TOM’S shoes her head began to spin. Her copy of “The Hunger Games” flew off the counter and onto the floor on it’s own. The lyrics to ‘Cough Syrup’, by Young, the Giant began forming on the wall paper in what could only have been white people blood. Just when visions of mediocre nature photography with vague sentences in Helvetica font over them began taunting her mind, Jamal bust into the bathroom with the tranquilizer gun and hit her in her white ass.

Maria, Juan, and Juan-Carlos arrived back home to assist Jamal in putting Rebecca to bed. Nights like these reminded them a lot of that shitty Adam Sandler movie, 50 First Dates. But Rebecca’s friend’s stayed positive. At least it wasn’t Jack and Jill. They hoped one day, their honky pal would accept her milky complexion, and unexplainable passion for boring music and Facebook-ing about ‘causes’ she didn’t actually care about, but until then, they’d just have to relax, and remember, White Bitches be Crazy.

Depression is a bitch.

Last night, I got told that I'm a pain to deal with, and that a certain person whom I thought cared unconditionally, just couldn't deal with me anymore. 

Today, for unrelated reasons, my depression has hit full force. 

I feel so alone, but I'm no longer going to anyone with my problems. 

Even if they ask. 

I'm fucking done being a burden. 

I'm done making the mistake of thinking people actually care. 

I'm alone, I have always been alone and I will always be alone. 

Someone's going to text me, and they're gonna tell me I'm not alone. Or some stupid shit that they don't mean. They just want to make me feel better without really trying. 

Well don't. 

Lying to me makes it worse. 

I don't really have many friends, so the people who are in my life mean so much to me, even if I'm bad at showing it. And you know, when these people show that they suck, it really, really, really hurts. 

I try not to show it when people hurt my feelings. 

I hate feeling vulnerable. 

I hate people having power of my emotions. 

Sometimes, I even hate caring about people. 

Because despite how much I put into relationships, it's never enough. 

Everyone wants me to be there for them when things are falling apart for them, but when I'm at the lowest I've been in years, when I was honesty contemplating suicide, I got labeled as a burden. 

Well, I'm sorry I ask for help.

I'm sorry that I tried to make myself better and that I wasn't strong enough to do it all by myself.

I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted me to be. 

I'm sorry I believed you when you said you'd always be there for me.

I'm sorry I believed you when you said you cared. 

I'm sorry I ever fucking met some of you. 

Do you guys think I want to have this depression? Do you think I want to be a wreck? No. I hate this. I hate being like this more than any of you know. I want sooooo bad to be better. To not feel the things I feel, not think the things I think. But I can't do it on my own. I'm simply not strong enough. 

Why don't I just go to the therapist and get meds, you ask? I can't afford to. My mom and I don't have insurance, and frankly we don't have money either. We both work, but cost of living is just too fucking much. We don't have anything extra for healthcare and medicine. My entire life, I've been dealing with this alone. Sometimes I've had friends who help, but was I just a burden to them too? Probably. 

Most of the time, I'm perfectly okay. But when I fall apart, I fall apart big time. However, I'm so much better now than I used to be. My fall-apart-nights are so much less frequent than they used to be. I'd like to think I'm slowly making myself better. Sometimes I really think I'm overcoming this. Other times, I'm so consumed with depression that all I can do is stay in bed and sleep and/or cry. I hate those times. I always wonder, will I get through it this time? I forget what it's like to smile and feel happy, even if I was just doing it a few hours before. 

I hate it when people tell me to "Just cheer up!" or "Just think happy thoughts!" Or even worse, "Get over it." I would absolutely LOVE it if this shit worked that way, unfortunately, it doesn't. No matter how hard I try, it's not possible to just will away a disease permanently. Unfortunately, I will always suffer from depression. I will always have days where I'm okay, and days where I'm not. I don't know how to explain to people that this doesn't make me crazy, this doesn't make me dangerous to myself or to others. I wouldn't ever hurt another person. 

As for myself? Yes, I think about it all the time. I'm constantly thinking that the world would be better off without me. I'm constantly thinking that everything would just be easier on everyone if I wasn't here. I'm constantly wondering, who would miss me? Who would care? How many friends will I suddenly "have" if I were to die? Who would pretend we've been the best of friends, when really they couldn't even tell you my favorite color? Would people even bother pretending to care or would it be just how it is now? I honestly can say I have less than five people who I know care about me. I think these things all the time, just about everynight, if you want the truth. But I won't ever act on it. I'm terrified of death. I don't want to die. I'm way too scared to. I'm not fucking done here.

I want a degree in psychology, I want to help people. Over time, I plan to open my own therapy office. I want to help people (mainly kids and teens) with no money and no insurance. I know how much it sucks to be on the verge of suicide. To feel so alone.  To not want to continue for even another minute. I don't want anyone to ever feel that way. So, I'm going to do my best to fix that. 

A lot of people, particularly kids and teens, can't get the help they need for any number of reasons. They can't talk to their parents about their problems. Their parents are stuck in that "Kids don't have real problems" mentality. Their parents don't care. Their parents think they're overdramatizing. Their parents can't afford to help them. They don't have insurance. They used up to their annual cap on their insurance. Their insurance doesn't cover mental health. And so on and so forth.  There are many reasons, but whatever the case, sooooo many people go without the help they truly need. And I want to end that. 

I'm going to open a center, kind of like a YMCA meets a shrinks office meets boys and girls club. I'm going to have things for kids to do, like an arcade. Things to do to keep them off drugs, off the streets breaking laws, out of jail, etc. I'm going to have rooms, like the YMCA does, so no one has to sleep on the streets, or wonder where they're going to sleep that night. I'm going to provide meals for the people staying there - free of charge - so no one ever has to go hungry again. And most importantly, I'm going to provide therapy, so people can get help. So no one feels alone. 

And I will do this all free of charge. So no one ever has to wonder how they'll pay for the important things, or what they'll have to sacrifice to get help. Don't ask me how I'll fund all of this, I don't know yet. But I'll figure this out. I will do this, I will help people. I will make a fucking difference. I will change the statistics of teen suicide rates. I will lower them. This isn't an "I'm hoping to" thing. This is a "I fucking will do this." 

It may be a burden for you guys to care about me, but it isn't a burden for me to care about people. Helping people gives me purpose. I will make a difference one day, doubt me and I'll prove you wrong. Support me or help me or join me, all the help I can get is welcome. But I WILL make a difference. I will change the way things are. I will, I will, I fucking WILL. 

Absolutely unrelated, but MattFuckin'Smith, that kid is amazing. I fucking love him. I told him I'd include him in my next blog, and I'm keeping my promise. . .even though he truly has nothing to do with the shitty mood that inspired this. He's fantastic. I FUCKIN' LOVEEEE YOU MATTTTTT. Even if you put penguins in a tree, I'll still make you sandwiches.<33

Missoula VS. Big Bear.

So, in typical Shannen and I style, we can't make up our minds. Do we want to live in Big Bear, California, or do we want to stick to the original plan of Missoula, Montana? Kind of a big decision, as either way, one of us is moving across the country. But which one of us? Last night, I was doing a lot of thinking, and I was weighing out the Pro's and Con's of each place.

Big Bear Pros; 

- After 8 years of mostly separation, I'd finally be really close to Levi. We'd be able to spend a lot more time together. The catch to this? Levi and I are very distant lately, and he's super busy with his work and internship, so I don't know that we really would be able to hang out a whole lot anyway.

- Closer to my family/Rachel/Katie; As much as I love the fuck out of all of the above, it's not like I'd never be able to see them again.  I mean there's planes and trains and cars and busses and shit. I mean for fucks sake, my aunt and uncle live one street over and I hardly ever seem them now.

- If I don't wanna be in the snow, all I would have to do is drive down the mountain and I'd be out of it. This is a big one for me, because I'm a pansy ass bitch. But, if I know I have that option, I'll be less likely to suck it up and deal with it, and I'd waste all my gas going up and down the fucking mountain.

Big Bear Cons;

- There's no college on the mountain. Meaning, I would have to go down 20-30 miles down the mountain and into San Bernadino to go to school. Do-able, but a hassle. Plus, San Bernadino is sketch. I hatehatehate being in Highland (the town at the base of the mountain). It's scary and ghetto. And that's for me, I grew up in this shit. Imagine how bad it would be for a small town Washington/Montanan girl! Shannen didn't like how ghetto Fallbrook was, she wouldn't like San Bernadino. We wouldn't be safe going to school there.

- I don't know that her car will pass smog. Fuck, let's be honest here. I don't even know that MY car will pass smog when it's up for registration again.

- There aren't very many jobs up there. This one's kinda self explanitory. . .

- Tourists. I'm not a fan of them, and Big Bear being a Ski Resort, there's nothing but tourists there.

- California drivers. Californians can't drive in the sunshine and especially not the rain, so what the fuck are they like in the snow. . .

Missoula Pros; 

- When I visited there, I fell in love with the city.

- It has a college, which I'm also in love with.

- Rent is about the same there as it is in Big Bear, but the houses are nicer. 

- Strangely enough, I miss having a basement. Missoula has basements.

-There's nothing more beautiful than a Montana sunrise. Seriously, that shit could turn me into a morning person. I love love love them.

- Friends. I have friends there that I made in Lewistown that I miss ever so fucking much, and I'd love to live around them again. Because the friends I made in Lewistown are quality people. Every one of them. Even people who didn't like me back then are better to me now than most of the people who claim they're my "friends" here in Fallbrook. (Katie and Rachel not included. Everyone else, yes.) Look at everything that happened between Kelsey Landers, Nikol Fulbright and I.  I had people tell me they actually thought we were gonna kill each other. When I went up to visit, I was anticipating some kind of drama, but they treated me like an old friend and seemed genuinely glad I was there. I went floating with Kelsey, and Nikol and I hung out and talked like we'd been friends forever on two different occasions. Now yes, there's still drama in Montana, and people still will argue. I'm not saying everything's perfect there. But Montanans are different. They get mad, let you know they're mad and why, and then they're over it pretty quickly. Out here, with just about everyone I've met, people get mad then stab you in the back and hold grudges forever over stupid shit. People are fake here. Flaky. They pretend. I'm sick of it. Montanans are great in the sense that they don't give a fuck about what people think. If they don't like you, you sure as hell know. The people I call my friends in Lewistown are true friends, people who I know are in my life cause they want to be. They're in my life because they like me, and because they care 'bout me. That is the kind of people I need to surround myself with.

- No Sales Tax.  You know how much money you waste on sales tax?!

- Hedgehogs are legal. I CAN FINALLY HAVE ONE.

- I feel close to my dad there. And yes, I'm aware how absolutely absurd that sounds, feeling close to a man I never knew who's been dead for 13 years. But, I'm not angry with him anymore. I want to know him for who he was. I'm finally ready to ask the questions I've wanted the answers for but been too afraid to ask.  I could visit where his ashes are spread, and I could actually learn things about him from my grandparents who live 50 miles away.

-My grandparents. Speaking of them, they live 50 miles away from Missoula. It'd be nice to be able to spend more time with them and be closer to them as well. (Plus, they've already met and adore Shannen.)

- Four seasons. This could go as both a pro or a con, actually. It just depends on my mood. xD

Missoula Cons; 

- I'll be far away from my mom and my moms side of my family. (See loophole to that in Big Bear Pros.)

- I can't escape the snow. This is bad because I'm a pansy ass bitch. However, it could teach me to NOT be a pansy ass bitch . . . we'll see.

- Out of state residence tuition. That shit's ridiculous, but there are ways around this.

- I'd be a Griz, and Kenzie and Kayla might love me a little less. Assholes. <3




So, it looks like in terms of practicality (is that a word?) Missoula wins.