rissy stories

Hey guys, so again, I’m trying something new. This may either turn out good, or really, really awful – just… terrible. And before I even go into detail – I just want to make it clear from the beginning that I’m going to be posting this entry along the lines of reaching out to people who feel the same way as I do sometimes (not for pity). Thank you.

I’ve been writing in two journals (diaries – if you will) for about 4 years now – recording my thoughts and my life as it happens. But lately I’ve been wondering how to incorporate it into my creative writing, and this is what I’ve come up with…

I’m going to attempt to take real, actual sentences that I wrote over the past four years and rearrange them (randomly) into several small-ish free-verse poems. (Basically each line is something I wrote down in my journals over the past 4 years, but they are all randomly placed together to form an attempt at a poem.)

Now, I’m not a poet by any means. It’s not my forte, and frankly, I don’t think I’m very good at it. I’m still caught in that “everything has to rhyme in order for it to sound good” mindset. But I haven’t written any poetry since sophomore year of college, so I figured that it might be time to try it again.

This was also very therapeutic for me – to re-read these journal entries and see how far I’ve come (and also to witness how screwed up my brain actually is/was). And I thought that creatively putting those real crazy thoughts and feelings into poems would be the best way to help me express it all (instead of writing a fiction or nonfiction short story, like I normally would). 

They will be a little crazy and all over the place – but that’s kind of the point of these poems. So, without further ado, here is the first one (don’t worry, it’s not very long):

---

 

I’m all over the place right now,

But bear with me.

I overanalyze things to death,

But I’m currently climbing my way out

With these frayed ropes – I’ll explain the rest.

xxx 

No time to relax.

I want to,

But if I do,

I would get in my head again,

And trust me…

…it can get scary in there.

xxx

My thoughts constantly argue

And I stress over every decision too,

Because I’ve screwed up many times, let me tell you.

xxx

I’ve been drowning in homework,

School’s gonna be a bitch tomorrow,

I don’t have breaks anymore,

And I’m just tired, you know?

xxx 

I need this year to be over (x4),

But the unknown future is scary,

Why do I even bother anymore?

I’m so sick of feeling angry.

xxx

I wish I could think more positively,

But my anxiety gives me this awful theory:

If you don’t always think of the worst possibility,

You won’t try hard enough to keep it from becoming a reality.

xxx

And I’m writing because I need to feel good about something.

I don’t know how else to cope without complaining and crying.

xxx

So, my therapist said that writing helps when I’m down,

Which is great

Because I sometimes have meltdowns on a daily basis –

– When no one is around.

xxx

I try for two seconds, then give up, roll over, and cry.

And once again…I have no idea why.

 xxx

Why can’t I work like everyone else?

Why do I overdo studying and homework

To the point where I destroy my mental and physical health?

 xxx

No matter how much I talk about it – it will never make sense:

xxx 

“I don’t want to keep doing this,”

“I hate this research, these labs, essays, and readings,”

“I can’t concentrate on anything for the life of me,”

“BUT I CAN’T STOP – I have to give everything

Even though I know it’s not worth giving.”

xxx 

I can’t keep doing all this work and still keep my sanity.

I’d rather do nothing with my life, I mean – just look at my family.

They gave everything too,

And they are all “successful,”

But their jobs are painful and stressful.

xxx

I don’t just want a stable career that I’m going to hate,

I don’t want to get married,

Housekeep, have children, and divorce –

But it all feels like my fate.

xxx

I don’t want to see my child grow up to be unhappy like me,

And I don’t want to lose a job I actually love (if I ever find one)

Because of the economy.

xxx 

On that note,

I don’t want to major in Geology,

But if I switch to English, I’ll be different in the family,

And I’ll constantly worry about finding jobs and making money.

 xxx

I want to feel free and to know where I’m going in life.

But I feel like I can do no right.

I wish that I could say I’ve done nothing wrong,

And I wish I could say that I’m strong,

But I’ve also been pushed many times, like everyone else.

And I just can’t feel better by myself.

xxx

I’m constantly torn between being unbearably angry and sad.

You know, when I’m not having anxiety attacks.

It’s not so difficult to understand when my thought process is like this:

xxx 

Do I switch to English?

Take the “easy way out” because I don’t have the mind of a scientist?

Or do I go with the more stable career choice,

And go on feeling like I don’t have a voice?

xxx 

I’m tired of worrying so much,

It’s making my stomach sick.

I’m underweight as it is,

I’d rather stress-eat than constantly hear questions like:

“Are you anorexic?”

xxx 

I barely made it to the end of the year without a psychotic break,

I have so much work to do, I’m confused, and I haven’t slept,

Which is taking its toll as of late.

xxx 

I have enormous bags under my eyes,

I constantly cry,

And when asked how I am –

– I always lie.

 xxx

I’m sick of dreading each day.

They keep getting harder and harder,

And I’m terrified.

xxx

I wish I could function like a normal human being in society,

And not be pushed by persistent comments like:

“Your best is not enough” –

What right do you have to tell me?

xxx

I don’t think I’ve ever been this busy before in my entire life.

I get stressed easily,

I take on work by the plenty,

And breaks are a rarity.

xxx 

And don’t even get me started on softball:

‘This is just a game,”

“But it’s also my life,”

“Should I quit?”

“Or should I not?”

DEAR GOD – Make. It. Stop.

xxx

I had a great career, but it feels like it’s ending…

…So, why can’t I stop arguing?

xxx 

“I hate the back-stabbing teammates,”

“But I love the thrill,”

“I hate always fighting with my parents,”

“But I love playing on the field.”

xxx 

“I have no time to do homework or sleep,”

“But hitting relieves stress,”

“I always worry about how Coach views me,”

“But I’m important and I impress.”

xxx 

“I constantly feel pressure to perform,”

“But I love feeling in shape,”

“I hate dealing with the weather – extremely cold or too warm,”

“But I love conquering those teams I hate.”

xxx 

In the end, I quit.

The cons weighed more than the pros.

It relieved the anxiety I’ve always had over this sport,

And once I took that first step,

I was able to take more.

xxx

But that doesn’t mean I don’t somewhat regret my decision.

xxx

I miss people cheering my name,

Hitting something as hard as I can,

Feeling proud of myself for making it this far in the game,

Being apart of a team,

Fantasizing about playing,

…Hell – I miss Everything. About. The. Game.

xxx

And I’m not sure huge changes like this do me any good,

But I had to do it –

– I wanted a foreseeable future,

And if I kept killing myself over this game…

…I wouldn’t have made much headway.

xxx 

I didn’t want to feel like this was the only thing that defined me.

xxx

And even though this turned out okay,

Every big decision I try to make goes this way,

And the process is agonizing and not okay.

And why should my love and social lives be any different?

xxx

I’ve been told to:

“Be more friendly and become an actress of happiness,”

I’m sorry, but I don’t even know what that meant.

xxx

My therapist also wants to change my personality

So I stop feeling so lonely.

Well unfortunately, I’m just not that lucky.

xxx

No one actually wants to be around me because of how I am.

An anxiety-ridden, depressed, pathetic, crybaby

Who can’t stand up for herself and always says:

“I can’t do this, I can’t.”

xxx

Well, I know it’s frustrating for you,

But baby trust me,

It’s frustrating for me too.

xxx

As soon as anxiety is done taking me for a spin,

Depression makes me numb until I feel stressed again.

I truly don’t know which is worse,

And it certainly makes me feel like a curse.

xxx

I’m constantly terrified of falling back into the darkness,

But I’ll sometimes wonder

If I’m holding onto these frayed ropes too strongly.

Maybe the only way for me to escape is to give into the sickness

Instead of fighting it daily.

xxx

…But then the sun always comes out again,

And I can see the light at tunnel’s end.

I’ll pull my way out of the pits of hell

On those frayed ropes that never unravel.

xxx 

I’ll look back on the experience and wonder

How I ever felt that far under.

But what I never seem to realize

Is that this process will never die.

xxx 

It will be a lifelong process of holding onto fraying ropes,

Hanging on, and trying to never give up hope.

 xxx

And now it’s all on paper for me to see.

You can now read me like an open book.

Literally.