What I Learned When I was Drinking

So, last night I had the unfortunate yet fortunate pleasure of experiencing drunkenness. I do regret it to an extent, but only because it upsets James. Otherwise, it really helped. Now, before you jump to conclusions, I wasn't drunk off my booty, as some people say. No, I was just drunk. I don't really remember the whole night, but I do remember bits and pieces. Here's what I learned:
I learned why I shouldn't drink around boys! Thankfully, the only boy around was my puppy. But I realized that emotions can get mingled easily, even more so with the addition of brandy, wine, and Busch Light. (I rejected the super-strong smelling moonshine, so I'm not that dumb.) Let's just say I said some things to a friend of mine that I wouldn't normally say..
Another great example of what I learned is that when you're drinking because you're depressed, you tend to drink more than you think you will. Fortunately for me, I realized what was going on and I stopped drinking so much. I'd been cutting once to twice a day since the beginning of the week, (which probably won't help my anemia..), and it wasn't a good idea for Alea to secretly bring over the alcohol without my knowledge, but once Alea starts something, she'll finish it. Trust me.
Finally, I figured out that a klutz, me, should not drink a lot and then try to carry my puppy to the bed...It doesn't work well..

The Best That I Can Be

So I went to a disabled camp for a week, because obviously, I'm disabled. Once there, I met this really, REALLY preppy-looking older teenager. I thought Good God, please don't make me be with a prep! But after meeting Katie, camp got a whole new meaning. I actually had fun singing at the talent show and dancing with my counterpart Ryan/Brenda. After I got back from camp, I wrote her a song. That was four years ago, so I totally lost it...Oops. So I wrote her a new one, and I'm going to sing it at camp this year, when the talent show comes back up. Enjoy, and please edit... I appreciate the suggestions. :)

I'm looking at the phone and it's saying your name
And I'm scared to answer it now because my mind is filled with shame
Just today's sins could disappoint you again and again
But as I cry you say you'll be there at the end
Of the race, when I'm ready to come home
You say this whole time, I haven't been alone
I wish I could take back yesterday
And all of those irreversible mistakes
But since that's not a possible request
I'll just have to say this I guess

I don't know why you let me call you friend
I don't know why you stayed with me then
Through all the tears, the fears, the lies
And all the times I tried to die
And I know you want the best for me
You'll do anything to help me be
The best that I can be

And I don't know why I chose these words
I can't think of a better way to word
What's been on my mind ever since we met
That week in June at the camp
At the end of it all, you were the hope
That things could be different, I could know
Someone cared, would call just to say hi
And hear the funniest stories in life
Who'd want to kidnap me for food
(Shopping might be included)

The day I lose a hold of life
Is the day I hold on with all my might
I'm gonna try to not worry about my plight
As long as I can see the light
Stay with me now, don't leave my sight
And we'll be friends through the long night

I Hate Everything About You

I hate how you say you're a part of the family, but you're never home to be a part of the family
I hate how you always tell me to calm down when I'm not worked up
I hate how you use every excuse known to man to get out of helping your 'family'
I hate how it works
I hate how you pretend like I'm the one who hurts you, and you didn't do anything wrong
I hate how people believe it
I hate how you can look me in the eyes and say you wish I was never born
I hate that it bothers me
I hate how you can see my arms but not look at the visible wounds
I hate how you think I'm a show that you can share to all your friends
I hate how I do it right back to you
I hate how you use sports as an excuse for missing family things
I hate how you get away with it
I hate how you can make fun of me on my birthday
But forget it even is my birthday
I hate how you cry when you don't get your way
I hate that they feel sorry for you
I hate how you can disrespect us and use us all the time
I hate how we let you
I hate how you don't care if you make us look bad
But when we make you look bad, all Hell breaks loose
I hate how I can't hit you
I hate you

Bought Cheap

I stumble in the darkness of the unlit room

I try to find peace within myself, but I guess it's just too soon

The tortured screams of the dead

Cry to me, Help, they beg

I cannot help what I cannot see

I can hear them though, hear their pleas

I want to help, I know what it's like

To want to give in, give up on life

To take the poison willingly

Suddenly, there's a strange noise

I realize with a start it's a little girl's voice

Begging for another chance

A shot at life, to love and dance

She was taken too young of age

To want to leave, no, she was made

She watched her mother die

Her father cry

Something no child should have to see

Before she should have, she knew me

Death came early for the girl with braids

And I regret taking her soul and leaving her with him

The Father Of Lies bought her cheap

I don't drive a hard bargain, unfortunately

Now I suffer within my mind

Left here with my voices to die

I guess I deserve my fate

After all the lives I take

Murderer, killer, bloodthirsty man

That's what they call the damned

Me

Drowning

Biting my lip, I look in your eyes

You see the fire in them die

You know you can't do this to me

Yet you have to, don't I see?

This is the only road left to take

The only decision you can make

To keep us together, if only as friends

You promise this won't be the end

But I can see you're lying

Desperately trying to keep me from crying

But you're too good at honesty

Too bad, I guess, for me

You'll always love me, but not just yet

There's a few goals, you say, you haven't met

So you leave

I watch you walk away in tears

Hoping you'll come back here

After you disappear from sight

I walk towards my ending plight

Towards the water's breaking waves

Towards my only known fate

I take a breath

The storm's due today, I thought

As I prepared to drop

To the depths of the dark sea

Will he wonder what became of me?

When they pull my body from the water's edge,

Will he drop on his knees and beg

For me to come back to life?

Or will he just accept I died?

When they perform their autopsy

Will they see the marks on me?

The scars, the bites, the open wounds

Will they wonder why I left so soon?

Maybe they'll think it was an accident

Once the water fills my lungs

I cling to life, I want to hold on

The salt makes it hard to see

Oh God! Please don't let me leave!

As the world gets black and dark

I say sorry to the people I hurt

To the man walking away

On the sidewalk just today

To the friend who never saw

The pain in my eyes, not at all

I wish you would have noticed..

Relapse

I think this is the point in time where most people would turn themselves in. But I'm enjoying my old self too much. The addiction is so refreshing. Maybe this is what it's like for alcoholics and druggies to get a sip of booze or a hit of weed. I don't know. I'm not addicted to either. Yes, I've experienced both, but I don't crave them the way I crave my blade. They're just things I do for fun, for a good time with my friends. But the blade, oh that blade.

Now that it's the day after my birthday and I've used up at least half a roll of toilet paper to wipe up the blood, I should regret it. But I don't. I can't bring myself to apologize for my actions. My repentance has worn out, just like when people wear out their welcome once they start to judge me.

It's been quite a long time since I've had a relapse quite like this. Usually it's a few cuts; a little bloody, but not much. This time, though, I surprised myself. I didn't know I could do that to myself completely calm and sober at the same time.

Both my legs have cuts, welts, scars. It might get worse, it might get better. I can't say for sure. I don't want to know right now. I'm gonna go with the flow. The only promise I'm going to make is that I won't die.

Dancing With My Death

"Ba-bump..ba-bump.."
My pulse can be felt so clearly through my torn-up leg. Though I'm wearing my knee-highs and jeans, I feel like people all of a sudden acquired X-Ray vision. It's probably just me. I'm just paranoid because I broke my promise. Again. I could've sworn those freshmen just looked at the cuts hidden beneath my clothes! Stupid freshmen. How did they know? Do they see the pain in my eyes? Did my bandages bleed through again? How did they find out?!
Grabbing my pajamas, I turn the door handle, ready for my shower. Then I stop, remembering that tomorrow is my birthday; I should give myself a present. After all, no one will be able to notice. I'm practically invisible at school.
I turn and dig through my jewelry box for my blade under Shiloh's watchful eyes. Thank god he's a dog, or I'd be screwed! I grab my blade; Oh, how I've missed you!
In the shower, I decide to shave my legs, knowing full well that once I leave the bathroom, I'll be unable to shave for a couple of weeks, depending on the pain.
I dry off and sit in the chair next to the counter. Taking a deep breath, I make the first cut. God, I feel better already. Of course, one cut turns into many cuts. Soon, the whole side of my calf is covered in my blood.
The rush of adrenaline in my body is exhilarating; turning the toilet paper a bloody red. I know I should try to staunch the fluid, my life support, but my arms refuse to move, not that I'm refusing their resistance much anyway. So my leg bleeds. And bleeds. And bleeds. And I like it...
It's like the weed. And the overdoses. I know I shouldn't, but I don't care. My body doesn't care. It wants more bloodshed, more pain. My eyes are actually entertained at by watching the life flow out of me. Strange as that sounds, it's true. I feel relaxed when my leg goes red, when I feel weak and faint. It makes me feel high. It makes me believe I'm beautiful, that I can do anything, be anyone I want to be. When you look like me, that's a rare feeling. So I cherish every moment I have dancing with my death. I try to get it more often. My drug, my alcohol, my cigarette, when they aren't handy. Which is a lot of the time, mind you. But, back to my point, I broke my promise again. For the billionth time. So I'm not making it again.