Mindless Chatter

I came to my parent's for the weekend because I desperately didn't want to be alone. Well my brother ignores me, my dad is sleeping, my mom is at the casino and my sister went out with her friends. I should have just stayed home. My bed is so much more comfortable.

I spent the last few hours cooped up in my sister's room re-reading Perks of Being a Wallflower. It was just sitting there on her desk and I had nothing better to do with my time. It's a great book, but I think it makes me think too much.

Before my sister left for the night I asked her if she was going out to party. She kind of just laughed at me and I replied on how I had no life and I came here for company and was getting none. My best friend is out living the college life, and Michael is out of town. Other than them, I have no one and that's the sad truth. Marisa tried to say I had other friends but I just shrugged her off. Please, someone tell me where all my "friends" are. Actually, tell me who they are.

Sometimes I wonder why I've never really had many friends. I'm a likable person and generally people like being around me. Yet nothing with me sticks. Or I guess, no one. Sometimes I think about mine and Erin's life and I panic thinking about how it's going to work. How it even does. I think for a long time I was okay being isolated, so to speak. Since I was 15 I've had a boyfriend and really, my life pretty much revolved around them. They made me not alone. Michael and I are so much different. I don't see him every day or talk to him every second. I'm not one person with him. We are two individuals in a relationship. Which honestly, is a lot healthier than anything I've ever been in, but at the same time, it's lonelier too.

I'm rambling. I ramble when I hurt. When I'm scared. When I'm feeling too many things and I don't have control on what I'm about to say, and certainly not what I'm about to think. There is this void in me that's inescapable, and really, only matters to me.

I keep thinking about the conversation I had last night. It angers me when I'm not one to get angry. I'm frustrated with all these misconceptions and no understanding. Of being stranded on an island of my emotions  and everyone sending life boats to the side of the shore I can't reach.

I often think about my role as a mother. Of how badly I don't want to fail. Of how someone who is as broken as me could have possibly created what I did. I'm terrified and not at the same time.

It's an uncomfortable thing for me to say that I need you. Especially knowing I can't count on you. I think that might be the worst of it. I can't turn to no one.

The first time I attempted suicide was because I felt like a failure and I couldn't handle it. The second time I was overwhelmed and didn't want to continue living and being so alone. Thoughts will always cross my mind, but it's comforting to know how really in control I am of my actions.

I have so much faith in me. Really. Even now.