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.

God works in mysterious ways.

That's something I get told a lot. That God works in mysterious ways. Sometimes by total strangers who mean well, but more often than not, by people who know me well enough to know that I don't believe in God. Stop telling me that. That honestly is the most irritating thing a person can tell me.

After Kenzie's accident, I heard that all the time. I heard that he works in mysterious ways, and that he has a plan for everyone. Quick question though, if he has a plan for us, where does our free will come in? Do bad things happen because we use our free will and stray from his plan? Is that him punishing us for thinking for ourselves? I also get told some variation of "Well, God gives us free will and Kenzie chose not to wear her seatbelt. . ." So, was the accident just God punishing her for not wearing her seatbelt? Why didn't he punish Erika for driving 90mph down a dirt road? Why didn't SHE end up with a traumatic brain injury? She too used her free will to push on that gas pedal. Ahh, because God works in mysterious ways, right?

The other night, a friend I went to high school with (Ricky) was drinking and driving. He was doing 80-85mph and lost control of his truck and hit a tree. Totaled the truck and has a DUI and an assload of fines, but other than that he's perfectly okay. He's been Facebook-ing. These pictures are of his truck, that I took directly off his Facebook.

Ricky should not be alive, but he got lucky. Sooooo lucky. He's fine, he didn't hurt or kill anyone else. He got lucky. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm stoked that he didn't die or get a traumatic brain injury or kill anyone or any number of awful things that could have happened. But if anyone would deserve the TBI, it would be him and not Kenzie. 

Where's God with his punishment for Ricky's use of free will? Is he just gonna let this one slide? 

His friends are making light of this, saying things like (these are direct quotes from the picture comments) 

"damm what happened hulk smash your truck"

"Fuck bro it happens you'll get thru it.."

"ricky!! nooo that sucks so bad im sorry i hope you're alright. you gotta lay off the 40's for a while"

" holy shit foool...next time only drink a twelve pack haha"

The second and last one irritate me the most.

Fuck it shit happens? WHAT. This isn't something that just happens. If an animal ran in front of his car, then it'll be fuck it shit happens. But this? This is YOU WERE BEING A FUCKING IDIOT AND THAT'S WHY THIS HAPPENED. 

& "next time only drink a 12 pack" ONLY DRINK A TWELVE PACK?! First of all, when you wreck your car because you were drinking and driving and your friends tell you that next time you should ONLY drink a 12 pack, that should really be a sign that you're a fucking alcoholic. And that's TERRIBLE advice, Mr. Carlos Calsada! I went to high school my senior year with Carlos as well. . . and that kid is easily one of the most idiotic people I have ever met in all my 19 years. And that comment truly proves his level of intelligence. 

Now, Ricky's always been great to me, and I'm so thankful that he's alive and well and that no one got hurt. I'm just angry at the world for the unfairness of it all. Why did God let all of this happen to Kenzie and nothing happen to Ricky? 'cause the dude works in mysterious ways, yeah? 

Frankly, I'm real damn tired of this dudes "mysterious ways." They're why I stopped believing he existed. 

I have a friend whose name I won't mention here, but he's someone I love with my whole heart. From the time we were twelve-thirteen until recently, his home life was extremely abusive. In the beginning, I prayed and prayed and prayed that God would make it stop. And he didn't. For years my friend suffered verbal, emotional and physical abuse. Where was God then? Where was God during all the nights that my friend and I cried and begged for it to stop? Why wasn't he listening? Why didn't he do anything? Why did he just let it happen? And people wonder why my friend and I are both so anti-God now a days. 

What about the kids who are born with HIV/AIDS? There's absolutely no "free will" that they could have done and fucked up. Why does God let that happen? If he talks to soooooo many people and appears on toast and grilled cheese sandwiches. . . why can't he tell a scientist how to cure HIV/AIDS? Or cancer? Why does he let all the bad happen? 

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?

Then he is not omnipotent.

Is he able, but not willing?

Then he is malevolent.

Is he both able and willing?

Then whence cometh evil?

Is he neither able nor willing?

Then why call him God?” 

-Epicurus

Liar, you'll pay for your sins.

So, it's recently been brought to my attention that Travis, my ex-step-dad is spreading rumors around Lewistown about my mom. You know, perhaps I was just being silly, but I assumed that a repeat divorcer in his late 40's would know how to break up like a mature adult. Ahhhh, in a perfect world, right?

Now, according to the rumors, the divorce happened because my mom cheated on him. That's NOT what happened. For reasons I may never understand, she loved Travis.  We may have had our problems as a family, but my mom never quit trying and more importantly she never stopped loving him or us kids.  Our dysfunctional little family was everything to Mom. So, why would she do anything to jeopardize that? She WOULDN'T.

What REALLY caused the divorce? Travis and the whole goddamn Ridgeway family is batshit insane. His mom, Marie, is always behaving like she's the victim - When we first moved into our Lewistown house, my mom made a comment about the kitchen cabinets IN OUR HOUSE needing to be cleaned. Some how this broad twisted that into my mom said that she's not welcome in our house and Mom doesn't ever want her to come over. How the fuck she got to that conclusion, my mom and I still to this day don't understand. But Marie threw a fit, and cried and cried and cried until my mom apologized to her and told her she's welcome to come to the house. This lady is in her 60's. Travis's dad. . . well. I'm sure if you know me you've heard the "prayer circle" story. This man thinks he's a prophet. Growing up in southern California, mom and I never had a basement. So when we first moved to Montana, we were freaked out by the basement in our house. It looked like a horror movie setting. Travis made fun of us for it in front of his parents one day, and his dad lost his shit. He told us that contrary to popular belief, fear isn't a normal human emotion. It's a demon. Mom being mom wasn't thinking before speaking and she made a comment about having more demons chasing her by the coattails than she'd like to know about. I thought Travis's parents were going to have a heart attack. They made us hold hands and have a prayer circle as they attempted to "pray the demons out of us." Clearly, mission failed. Travis also has an uncle who will go to restaurants and get under the table and bark like a dog and eat his food on the floor, and another uncle who's institutionalized, though no one would tell us what for.

Family history of no personality, no sense of humor and mental instability aside, my mom still loved that man and stood by his side. Even when he would have a temper tantrum, smack his hands over his ears and scream  "LALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" until he turned red, my mom still put up with his shit. Clearly the lady is a trooper.

Eventually his parents decided that Mom and I weren't "holy" enough, and since Travis is a little bitch, he couldn't stand up for himself or us. Thus, they decided Mom and I were going back to California and Travis and his sons were moving out to the family commune in the middle of nowhere and living with his Mommy and Daddy so they could control his every move even more.

I think it's funny that they claim that WE are the bad ones. These people manipulate everyone they come into contact with, every word that comes out their mouth is a lie, they steal from their CHURCH FRIENDS, and treat their spouses like shit. But that's okay. That's what their God would want them to do, because they live their lives "through God's word" (Remember, God speaks through Travis's dad.) However, loving your family and being willing to do anything to keep the family together - THAT is what's going to send us to hell. HA.

His parents say that California is a "godless state". I must have missed the fine print under "God Is Everywhere" where it said "except California." Anyone but the Ridgeway's see that? So if my mom, myself, and the rest of California are without THAT God, then I'm perfectly okay with that. Just because we're without their God doesn't mean we're Godless.

The moral of the story here is this; If any member of the Ridgeway family tells you anything about my mom or I, don't believe it. Those people don't know how to tell the fucking truth.

Bad decisions make the best stories.

Bad decisions and I go together like. . . two things that are always together. Mondays are early days for me, and last night, I got drunk. Yeeeeeah. . . not my brightest choice, but! Freaking amazing night with Rachel, Kelson, Devin, Jimmy & Cody. :)

Gettin' groped, nbd.

Me & rach being cute, Cody playing Rockband, and Kelson's forhead.

Kelson's hand photobombing a super cute picture. :c

Favorite :D

She fell asleep cuddling a burrito. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't photograph this and post it online?

Missoula Missoula MISSOULAAAAAAA!

So, anyone who's been paying attention to my life for the last two months knows that I have my heart set on moving back to Montana. Not back to Lewistown though. To Missoula. Now, when I make up my mind and I have my heart set on something, I generally don't change my mind. Now, Missoula is important to me for so many reasons, and Shannen asked me to clarify them all. So here we go, in no particular order.

1.) It's a new life. I grew up in the same town and went to school with the same people my whole life. I only got away for one year, and I didn't want to then. But now? Now I want a new life. I want a fresh start. I don't want to be around people who know the person I once was. I don't want to be around people who don't respect that I'm not the person they did drugs with back in the day. I want to be somebody and I don't see that happening here. So yes I wanna move. And although I will be living with my two best friends, Shannen and Kelson, I will still get a fresh start. They have always been supportive of me, and I want them both in my life forever. 

2. Because my dad is from Missoula. I never knew him, so I never felt close to him. But there...there I do. I dont know how to explain the feeling. But I'm ready to know my dad. I know that sounds really weird since he's been dead for 13 years...but growing up I had a lot of answers I wanted but was too angry to ask the questions. Now, I forgive my dad for leaving. (kinda). And I wanna know why he did, what happened? Everything. And I don't just mean my moms side of the story because that has changed a few times over the years. I still talk to all my family on his side, and his ashes are spread in the mountains outside my grandparents house. I think that's the perfect place to start getting to know who my dad was. 

3.) Every motherfucking time I turn around, I'm being told I can't do this. I'm being told I'm going to fail. I'm being told I won't make it there. I'm being told that I CAN'T. and that's bullshit. Because I CAN. And the more I get told I can't, the more determined I am to prove that i fucking CAN. and more importantly, I WILL. 

You know, my aunt said the greatest thing the other day. My mom is the one fighting me on this the most. And my aunt said; "So it's okay for your mom to decide what's best for you - against everything you want - and pick up and move you across the country to be with people you can't stand because 'it's bettering your life' but when you want to decide to better your life and move away from bad influences and surround yourself with people you love, suddenly you're wrong and you don't know what's best for you. Whos place is it to decide what's best for you? Only you. Do what you need to do. I'll miss you, but I'd rather miss you and have you happy than have you here and have you be miserable. Do what you gotta do." 

So naturally my aunt is my favorite family member. 

I am going to Missoula. I will make this work. Maybe it'll be hard at first. But I know that with Shannen and Kelson by my side, I can do anything. Look how far I've come in just the last two months almost entirely thanks to them helping me at my lowest. Look how far Kelson has helped me come in the last two years. Those two are real friends. They care when I'm having a bad day. They care when I'm having a good day. They care all the time. Those are the kind of people I need in my life. Full time friends. Not halfass sometimes-I-care-but-only-if-I-feel-like-it friends. 

Missoula is happening. April 27th, 2013. It's happening. No matter what any of you say. You can either support us or get the fuck out of our way. Your call. 

The breakup.

I've really really REALLY had enough of hearing crap about Seejay and I's break up. Maybe it wasn't clear before, maybe we led some of you to believe that what happened in our relationship was your problem. Maybe we led you to believe that some of you had say in it? I don't really know what happened, but please allow me the chance to clarify this for you. STAY THE FUCK OUT OF IT. I'm going to post this, and that'll be the last I want to hear a damn word about it. I'm going to explain everything, so there shouldn't be any more questions.

Seejay and I met on MySpace when we were like 12. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I remember I liked his hair, so I friend requested him. It didn't take long for us to become friends, and eventually best friends. Somehow we figured out that the town he lives in was only an hour from where I lived. We wanted to hang out, but neither of us could drive, and neither of our parents would be willing to drive us that far to meet up with someone we met online. That's pretty much a huge thing that parents were trying to not do at this point. So, we were pretty much screwed in that department.

When we were sixteen, I moved to Montana. While I was living there, we discovered we both thought of the other as more than friends. We made plans, big plans. The minute we both were 18, we were going to move in together, go to school together and eventually open our own therapist office, but in the meantime we were going to apprentice in body mods, and open a tattoo/piercing shop. I was gonna do the piercing, he was gonna do the tattoos. But most importantly, we were going to be together. "It's a forever thing." he used to tell me. He wrote me a poem and mailed me it, and I still have it to this day. In the poem he pretty much told me how nothing else in the world mattered as long as we would end up together. I really put my all into it. And you know, looking back, maybe it was stupid. We were sixteen, what did we know about life? We shouldn't have made such huge plans, I should have known they would fail. But I was convinced I was in love with him.  And then he started dating Bianca. It wasn't exactly like he weened me off of the plans we had or anything. Nope. One minute he was mine, and the next he was hers. Completely and totally broke my fucking heart. 

And then for the next two years, I watched her destroy him every chance she got. She cheated on him constantly, emotionally abused him, and brought him down as often as she could. Bianca is probably one of the worst people I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. But for some reason, he loved the bitch. I tried to get him to see how nasty she was, and he finally did, but did nothing about it. She would be bitchy on facebook and I would defend him. I'm a mouthy person, and I get defensive when it comes to people I really care about. So I can't even begin to guess the number of fights her and I got into. Eventually she got sick of it and made him choose between me and her. And, he chose her. He didn't tell me why he was leaving my life. In fact, he didn't even tell me he was doing it. I got no warning, no goodbye, not a goddamn thing. I didn't even know until I went to go post on his Facebook wall, and when I got to his page it said "Add Friend". The feeling I felt then was like someone had punched my heart up into my throat. I tried messaging him asking what the hell. No reply. I tried a few more times on Facebook, and nothing. Figuring she had control of his Facebook, I spilled my heart out in texts about how much I missed him. And he ignored them. He was out of my life for almost a year.

Don't get me wrong, I understand why he did it. However, I wish he wouldn't have given in to her. I wish he would have fought harder for our friendship. I mean, really? What was she worried about? He was going to play some of her games? Not like she wouldn't deserve it, but whatever. I forgive him, but in no way does that mean I forgot. He thinks that him leaving my life is what I don't forgive. But that's wrong. I don't forgive the way he jumped from me to her like it was nothing to him, when it was everything to me. I didn't forget the pain he'd caused me from dating her and from leaving my life. I can't forget the nights I missed him and cried, and begged him to come back to my life only to be ignored. I can't forget the heartache. I can't forget the lonliness. No, I can forgive him. But I cannot forget.

Shortly after him and Bianca broke up, he decided he wanted to be friends again. I woke up one morning to a friend request from him. And I didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, I knew him and Bianca had to have broken up, cause he wouldn't dare speak to me other wise. I was pissed that he was only coming back to me because she was gone. But on the other hand, I was so so sooooo excited to have him back in my life. I was angry, so I let the request sit for a few hours, but eventually I caved and accepted it. He apologized and finally gave me the explanation I'd been waiting for. For the first two weeks, I kept him at a distance. I could tell it bugged him, because he wanted everything to be like he never left. But like I said, I couldn't forget. Eventually it became hard to keep him at a distance, because I simply didn't know how to be anything but best friends with the kid. Plus, I was scared he'd leave again.

Fast forward a few weeks to June 15th, 2012, at 3am. Somehow what started as a joke turned into us both admitting that we still had feelings for each other. Everything I felt for him when I was 16 came flooding back at a serious intensity. Fireworks are legal where he lives, so we had made fourth of July plans for me and two of our friends to spend the night at his house. We weren't sure how our moms would feel about said sleepover if they knew we had a thing. So, we mostly kept our relationship a secret. Our close friends knew, but our families didn't and we didn't put it on Facebook for like a month. There was never an official asking out, but as far as anyone was concerned, we were dating. He went to LA with me and Kelson when Shannen flew in on June 22nd, and that was technically the first time I "met" Seejay. We first held hands in the LA airport, terminal 6. Our first kiss was in a Wal-Mart parking lot. First date; The Museum of Death. Second date; warped tour. Third; blowing things up. Everyone was convinced we were perfect together, even us. I can't deny the feelings I felt.

And then, I went to Montana. While I was there, my life fell apart. My family decided to hate me and hurt me every chance they got, among other things that I really don't want to get into. I was emotionally destroyed. And I needed some space to put my life together. It wasn't fair to him for me to be in a relationship I couldn't put my all into. My emotional state was awful, and I could barely hold myself together. I tried to hold on to our relationship, but I couldn't. It wasn't fair to him. I told him I needed to fix my life before I worked on a relationship. And he took it personal. We fought one night, and it got pretty bad. I decided to have a beer and a half with my friends, and he totally freaked. I didn't even get drunk. We fought some more, and (after telling him) I changed my relationship status on Facebook. He ignored me for two days after that.

Any time I tried to talk to him about what was going on in my life, and go to him with my problems, he acted like he didn't care. I wanted to get through it, but I didn't want to exclude him. I knew that the events of my Montana trip changed me. And I wanted him to know who I was becoming as I figured it out myself. But he shut me out. So, I shut him out. And ever since, there have been indirect posts on Facebook from him and his family. Like I don't realize that they're about me? Come on, guys. Knock it off.

The other night, I complimented him and his family, and he got pissed off and compared me to Bianca. Naturally, I got pissed and called him on it. I said; "Next time you want to compare me to Bianca, I'd sugggest you don't. That's NOT what I was doing. Goodnight, Seejay." And he just replied "Goodnight." Didn't try to fix it, didn't apologize, and still hasn't said a word to me. This was Monday night. However, judging by his and his mom's indirect Facebook posts, and his Tumblr post today, they seem to think that I'm the one who was out of line. And to that I say, fuck this. SeeJay, this is for you;

I tried to make things work. I really, really, really did. I stuck by your side, and I waited for you through all of the shit that happened to you over the years. I still wanted to fight for our friendship even after you broke my heart. Twice. I still cared about you. I always listened to you. I never blew you off. When you came to me, no matter what hour of the night, I tried to make you feel better. ALWAYS. You said yourself that even when you weren't in my life, you  knew that you could come to me and I would try and fix things.  That's how I always was for you. And I asked you to do that for me, and that was too much to ask apparently. Quit playing the victim. Quit with your indirect statuses and wall posts and song links. The more you do it, the more I really don't want you in my life anymore.

I've made the decision that SeeJay and I won't be getting back together. I said before that "maybe we'll find our way back together, but maybe we wont. Only time will tell." Well, time has spoken. If he's going to be in my life at all, we're going to be just friends. If he's not, then he's not. Ultimately, that is up to him.  But after being compared to her, words cannot express how truly fucking done I am.

So don't tell me that "he has my heart and I know it." Because he doesn't. No one has my heart but ME. And that's how it's going to stay until someone proves to me that they deserve it. Because I'm not going to give out my heart and hope that they don't hurt me. I've done that before and look how well it worked out for me. Time to be more picky.

New beginnings.

If you read my old blog, or saw my Facebook status the other day, you'll see that I said I was done blogging.
Well, that's half true.

I'm done using the coolstoryybro one. But not done blogging. I'm doing this for a few reasons, but mainly, there are people who had access to it that I simply don't want to have access anymore.  People who've hurt me and I need to vent about but they're over dramatic and if I do, they get suicidal. People who like to hurt me. People who like to use things in my life against me. People I don't like anymore.

Plus, with everything that's happened to me in the last two months, I'm almost an entirely different person.

Now, I'm not keeping this blog completely secret. I'm not hiding it, but I'm not posting the link to Facebook either. So if you're here. . . . cool. :)

Anyway, since we're gonna be doing a class blog for English, and it'll show my blog there, a lot of people (actually everyone in that class) doesn't know me. So, a bit about myself.

-My name's Rebecca.
-I'm 19.
-Otep, Sleeping With Sirens, Anti-Flag and All Time Low are my favorite bands, but I listen to everything from Taylor Swift to Marilyn Manson.
- I like tattoos & I have two; one on my collarbone & one on my wrist.
-Psych Major.
-I really like studying serial killers.
-The museum of death is one of my favorite places.
- I want to write a book someday.
- My grandma used to be in the Mongols, a biker gang. Badass runs in the family. I'm no exception.
- I do my own hair, and sometimes other peoples too. (I'm currently repairing it, that's why it looks like shit.)
- Puns are my favorite.
- I speak in memes far more than I should.
- Spiderman > every other superhero.
- I think Aquaman is cool.
- Cheesy pickup lines are the way to my heart; the cheesier the better.
- I drive a slugbug named Winston.
- I drink too much Dr. Pepper.
- I have insomnia.
- I'm a shit texter unless I want to talk to you.
- Half my texts are fucked up by autocorrect.

Here's me & a giant dildo Rachel and I thought was funny in Deja Vu. :]