Inner darkness - reflection

18:03
Sometimes I go for walks, take a slightly longer route or trail off when I'm finished with the main point of leaving the house to begin with. I take those times to think. I think often and hard, usually lost in my train of thought. My thoughts are often 'dark'; morbid, deranged, twisted, may I go on? It's almost rare when I think of happy, sunny, 'over the rainbow' peppy. I was 11 when the thoughts first started. I thought it was normal and shrugged it off like no big deal. It was because of those thoughts, my eyes were open to the fact no one liked me. They tolerated me enough to create that illusion. I was different, I shared some hobbies and interests as the 'norms' but not enough to take me out of the 'weirdo' class.

At age 12, the harder I tried to fit in the more I was alienated. I played alone, talked to myself; I was my only real friend. What started as a test became a way of self-destruction. I wanted to know which of my friends actually had the decency to care about me like how I cared for all of them. I banged my forehead on the table, over and over, waiting, looking for their reactions. I was only stopped twice because THEY didn't want to attract any attention from the teachers that doubled as lunch room monitors. They failed. I figured there was no place for me anymore. I lost all my real friends when I moved to West Allis and here, no one gave a damn about me. I would aim lower on the table, the edge, and silently bang in the same spot over and over. I would wrap my arms around my head, as if I was resting my head on the table, to hide the banging. I guess they knew what I was doing but didn't bother stopping me. There would be times I'd use the plastic fork and scratch, hard, down my left forearm over and over. When asked what I was doing, I'd say that my arm was itchy and it felt good (it actually did u_u) - it was a lie, rather or not they believed me is still unknown. My more obvious fits of rage was seen when I'd continiously stab the foam lunch tray with my fork. I'd start off slow, get a rush, and get faster and faster. When there wasn't much of a tray left, I was out of breath, it was almost orgasmic for me.

Ages 13-15 was when sex was becoming a pretty big deal at my middle schools. Almost all the girls were talking about it, others were thinking about how romantic their first times would be or how great their last encounter was. My dark thoughts sent me to a different direction. I had more of an interest to toy with people at that point. It was a bite or be bitten world and I was tired of being my grade's rubber ball. What I couldn't seem to escape from was the fact I was still getting bitten and it was taking a toll on me. My friends, peers, and teachers thought I was stupid and a waste of time, so allowing the darkness within me take control was probably the best idea I ever had at that time. I didn't swear, I was an absolute good girl. I was 14, I had enough of people, and had no patience for pretty much everyone - not like I shown it; blowing my cover was something I didn't want to do at that time.

There was this girl, someone who I knew disliked me and my gawd, I hated her, but she was dating my best friend and was always around. One day, my then best friend and I were walking home and she caught up with us and asked if she could walk home. I said, "No." She asked why not and I kept answering that I just wanted to walk home with my best friend today. He tried to insist that she walk with us and I could feel my blood boiling and said it wasn't going to happen. When asked why for the upteenth time, I screamed, "Because I fucking hate you, you're a stupid bitch!" I'm not really sure who was more stunned but I believe it was actually me. I felt awesome! I didn't regret hurting her feelings - she did a great share of that the year before. I guess I was the reason they broke up but it wasn't because of that, I guess she suspected that he had a crush on me or something like that - hell should I know?

It was after that when I let the darkness be shown. My outlets were art, I drew and wrote fantasies of what my darkness enjoyed. Writing about murder, torture, violent rape, I think I was pretty much gone at that point. Everyone was inferrior to me. They were nothing but rabid ratcoons that needed to be shot. 14 years old and hated people to that extent - sad huh? My personal style went from pathetic poor girl to Goth or dark artist as I liked to call it. mini skirts, tight tops that shown off my small devoloping chest, knee high boots, did nothing to my shoulder length brown hair. I still couldn't fight back, I was afraid of what would happen if I did, but I didn't show emotion. I went from carefree to careless. My 'I don't give a fuck' attitude did somewhat get me in trouble, but mostly with teachers since most were just as inferrior in my eyes as the dumbasses I went to class with.

The backlash of my darkness was the painful twinge of suicidal thoughts that still plagued me. I was still a nice girl, despite all that. I was into self-destruction again, not including the failed or half assed suicide attempts that my friends didn't really give a damn about, only stopping me when people would look our way, not like it surprised me. My destruction of choice was alcohol. I would try to drink the pain away with wine coolers and Mike's Hard Lemonade. Let me be the first to admit, it doesn't work. I am also a light weight and harder stuff burns like fuck going down my throat. I was never into drugs. I understand why people do it sometimes, but it wasn't for me. My thoughts were getting darker, my care for human life was pretty much dead at that point, and I wanted people to suffer. What I didn't really count on was my best friend was basically a sociopath and had me wrapped around his finger, basically since we started to become friends at age 8/9 (I was older than most of my class mates).

Most of me hated it, I had almost no will of my own, he'd beat me into silence, had full control of parts of my life. I was defenceless, scared, and willing to please him so he wouldn't hurt me again. Basically it was a sexless sadomasochist relationship from ages 13 to 16. He hated how I was blossoming. He hated that I was starting to have a will of my own, that I disobeyed him often. He tried to use my feelings for him to bind me to him to abuse, it worked for a short period of time, but when I became 15, it was useless. He tried to alienate me from our friends unless he was there to 'watch' me. The only hatred we actually agreed on was my alcohol consuption. He wanted me to be the meek and weak girl I used to be.

I was sorta aware of sadomasochism since maybe age 13, though I may have been 14 then. I only knew of the hardcore stuff, unaware of the other variations of it. That was my dark pleasure, my darkness had to remember that I still innocent in a sense of nature and heart, I had no desire to actually hurt anyone in anyway, but damn did I love thinking about it. At age 16, I was free. I was sick often from other illnesses and I went to a different school. I abandoned most of my friends. Other friends I wound up losing when I realized they were just as fake as the ones I left behind.

Now, as an adult, I love to explore where my darkness will transform me. I am allowing it to take over with a few conditions. I am a humantarian, I eventually grew to like the welfair for people, but that doesn't mean I actually give a fuck about people unless I want to. I also like some brighter colors but mostly have a 'black' attatude. It is dangerous to know what's in my mind. What people see as taboo or forbidden, I find exciting. The love of my life understands me and finds my darkness fitting to his own, thankfully he would never treat me like how my ex best friend did.
19:45

Assume the worst so it's not a surprise when it comes

14:49
Got dressed and pretty much ready to go meet Colette and Jen. My positive anxiety turned negative within the last 10 minutes. Was I bailed on again? No incoming texts. What am I to think? It's not like I had anything else planned for today but it's just the point that getting my hopes up again may have lead to more disappointment. Low expectations of everything and I still get hurt - the fuck? I really should learn to have no expectation - period. No expectations = no heart ache. It's pretty simple for me to go from hyped up to plummeting in self pity in a matter of seconds.
14:54
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17:07
My gosh I had the greatest time with Colette and Jen! It has been 8 years since I've actually hung out with another girl, let alone two, that were actually nice and not out to get me... okay in that sense, I haven't hung out with nice unbackstabbing people EVER (until today). My hyper talk (a quirk of social anxiety that isn't always documented) was on the whole time, which embarassed me because I couldn't get it to stop. All good things were said - so I didn't scare them away with arsenic talk (I was careful not to go that dark on a first meet THIS time *nods*). Colette surprised me with both Saige books. I am so happy, I don't own any GOTY books, though I've loved to own Lindsey's and Lanie's if I can find them. I made sure to look nice, I didn't wear my bangs, I wasn't up for clipping them in - ja, I got lazy. What sucked is that my tremors were kicking up and I tried hard to keep it at bay.
17:19

So it begins

I don't know why I decided to do this. Seems odd to have an online blog for the world to read doesn't it? I don't really mind much. This gives an more in depth into my mind and psyche, where I can be candid and honest without blowing up my facebook wall. I don't have to give a damn about offending anyone because this is my space (haha); but I know not everyone is going to like what I have to say.

Who I am will be splashed around this blog without me having to do an intro. I don't need to say who everyone is, just figure it out as I go along. There will be things I don't think I've told anyone on facebook. It wasn't that it was much of a secret, I just don't like to frighten people away. I know I can't please everyone and it amazes people to know that there are people who don't like me - tough shit on them, huh? I swear, curse, what ever you want to call it. I sometimes censor myself on facebook because of my young fb friends, though I'm sure they've heard worse...

What will be posted will be thoughts and any news I wish to share. I also don't post every day, unless I feel like it. This will be treated like any regular diary except I can actually read what I write. People are allowed to comment or what ever, I don't care. I can't seem to figure out how to change the time stamp, says 8 pm when it's actually after 10. I might as well say when I start and when I finish huh?
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22:45
Tomorrow I'm supposed to be going to meet up with Colette and her girlfriend Jen. I am quite excited and my goodness, nervous. I did warn her ahead of time about how I can be so I wouldn't give the wrong idea. The last thing I want is for someone to think I don't like them or anything - sad how often that is for me because of my social anxiety and natural shyness. Since becoming friends with Colette on facebook and chatting with her, I feel less resentment for people telling me to do Sadie's blog like Inky's. I wasn't jealous of how Colette does Inky's blog, just saddened of how often I used to hear it to the point I stopped blogging for Sadie period - her facebook page was seldomly used, becoming used more since Sadie does have some good friends.

It's 11 pm and it looks like I barely wrote anything. I've deleted sentences that didn't fit and also multitasking. That always seems to makes things take longer than they should. I'm listening to my flash drive music collection or what I call my own private radio station - the music player is always on shuffled so I don't expect anything; like a real music station. 'Do you really want to hurt me' by Culture Club and 'Blurry' by Goo Goo Dolls so far. Now 'Life Starts Now' by Three Days Grace; see how random my music is so far?
23:10