Archives for : December2004

Rain Rain go Away

I get depressed easily.. maybe It’s because I take everything in so seriously.. yeah I’m a joker.. I cut up and act like a fool.. I’m not a serious kind of person.. by no means… but when something hurtful or degrading.. or negative happens to me.. I hold on to it.. forever.. I don’t forget anything.. hardly… I horde hurtful feelings inside all the time…If someone said that my belt didn’t match my pants… Oh it would just tear me all to pieces and I would never forgive that person for hurting my feelings.. of course I can still be friends with the people who hurt me… Yeah.. I can still work with them.. even love them.. but I hold that hurt… and I don’t let it go.. I don’t know why.. Maybe… because… It’s a familar feeling.. and that by holding it in it doesn’t hurt as bad the next time? Well If I knew I wouldn’t do it.. I guess… Anyway my Dr put me on zoloft.. which is an antidepressant.. (hehe.. I thought it was for stress… *shrugs*) I haven’t felt the need to cry… or the want to cry for 3 weeks now.. but today.. just as soon as I was alone in my car.. tears just kept pouring out… I couldn’t stop them.. I could hardly see to drive.. and they continued all night.. I’ve just felt so down I’ve just been covering up all of the stuff for 3 weeks.. and they all hit today… I hurt so bad… it’s like I’m hiding behind this smile and joke….. and I can’t get anyone to understand how I feel… People think my reasoning for being upset is stupid.. but… it’s real to me.. it hurts me.. it makes me feel alone in my pain… I feel lost inside my own skin… I feel alone in my own world… I feel desperate to stop hurting…

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I called my granny today.. I usually call her on the weekends.. because that’s when I have time to talk.. and she likes to talk.. She said my biological father called her today looking for me.. saying he had tried to call me and couldn’t get anyone to answer.. I wonder what number he called.. I’ve had the same number for 7 years.. and in the past 8 I can only remember 1 time he’s called.. he had the wrong number then. He told my granny he was buying a house in oregon and was going to sell the house he had here in Tennessee.. that he wanted Har and I to have our inheiritance or whatever.. so I don’t know if he’s dying .. or if he thinks that by calling and saying something about free money will get me to call him back… I do want to call him.. but I don’t want him to think it’s because of greed… I never wanted anything material.. I’ve never been like that.. I’m happy with the things I have gotten on my own.. more so than the things I’ve been given.. I’m independent.. and I don’t like to take what is not rightfully mine… surely he can see that.. I only wanted to know him.. and to know the other side of me.. the part of me that I knew I belonged to.. but wasn’t accepted into.. I have a whole half of myself that I have no idea about.. and now at 28 I’m afraid that may never be possible.. most of the family I’ve met on that side I’ve met at thier funeral.. so it doesn’t do me much good to… as the most important roles on that side are gone already… I don’t know… it makes me feel so lost sometimes.. like I have a big space.. like part of me I know.. and I can embrace.. and then you wonder to the other part of me.. and fall into blankness that swallows you whole without you even knowing.. and you go on day to day not thinking of this dark spot on yourself.. but it’s allways there.. you can’t connect fully to your own.. until you know that half…….. even Harley has a half he doesn’t know of… and so forth.. sometimes when I’m alone here.. I think about my grandmother .. Cleo.. and wonder if she knew I was hers.. when I lived beside her.. and played in her yard.. and used her phone.. I wonder if she knew she was my half…. I look at her pictures and crave her guidance…her grandmotherly love…. her moreso than my father… I wanted her acceptance … She left me before I knew she was part of my other part… I wonder if I am like her in ways… if she would have found making cookies with me fun… or laughed at my antics … If I would have been in the way there too… her dark skin… black hair…. beautiful blue eyes… I wonder if she knew that when she lived beside me.. and saw me playing in the yard next to hers.. that I needed her to save me.. if she could see that man…. through the windows… on the porch.. I wonder if she cared… I was her granddaughter…… and she.. my grandma.. I can’t help but love her.. even tho I have no idea who she was.. I might have not even liked her.. but I missed that chance.. of knowing.. my other part..