i don’t want to think about it

i’m having trouble keeping my eyes open, but hey. at least i can drown my thoughts out with high quality television. or books. or youtube. or anything. anything to make it stop. because when you hit the pause button, how come it all comes to a stop, and the thoughts in my head start to pick up, and suddenly i’m falling off a cliff so watch me drop

              drop

                             drop.

because i don’t want to think about all the things in this world i don’t know. about the emptiness thrumming in my bones, or about how no matter how much i accomplish i still feel like i’m 11 years old, not sure who i am, and drowning in my own lack of self control, and god. could someone please just call me beautiful?

and i’m having trouble keeping my eyes open, but that’s all right. i mean, i’m pretty sure it’s normal.

and it’s all healthy, teenager stuff. you just need to learn to let go, let go, let go. jump off the ledge, and feel your hair whip in the wind, feel your mind start to bend. and just… just try to forget about it. because it’s not going away any time soon.


Wow, reading and editing poems I wrote ages ago is… a trip. It’s weird–how everything has changed and yet still stayed the same all at the same time. It sounds dumb, but I miss even feeling like this.

i am normal

i am normal. for one goddamn moment. not the pile of skin and bones i have come to call home. i am just a teenager. please tell me that i am just a teenager because i don’t want to be alone. 

i am normal. and you can’t tell me otherwise, because anger is a wall of fire i will build around myself to keep everything else out because i’ve been through enough. 

so i am normal. so i am fine. so i am pretty, and perfect, and all right, and look at me with my blog, and my good grades, and my lovely social life.

look at me. look at me straight in the fucking eye and tell me any of this mattered. tell me it was worth it.

i mean, go ahead. try.

nothing you say is gonna make me believe it.


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the slumber party

trigger warning: self-harm. need to talk? crisis lines are here.

let’s make up secret languages, and i’ll bury my head in your shoulder trying to cut out the world from existence. self-harm thoughts and little wounds, but it’s all right. i keep band-aids on me at all times.

let’s stay up late or watch tv or get lost in the forest. and when you’re not looking, i’ll sneak out back and let the panic crush my skull, because i can’t handle this. all right? but it’s okay. i don’t want you to know.

and i’ll fall apart without you. because i love you, which means i don’t even know who i am without you. which means i’ll crumble the very second i start to doubt you. 

and you know, when i was a kid, i used to keep the broken things. odd socks, and shattered mugs, and containers without lids. tuck them in drawers in my room, and tell them they were worthy. because maybe, if i could surround something with the same love i wished i could give myself, it would fix me.

i remember, how i used to feel so empty. like a hollowed-out seashell, left behind as some souvenir for another shattered reality. and to be honest, some days, i still feel that way.


This seriously isn’t about anyone in particular–it’s mostly just about something I do in general. When I meet a person who makes me feel loved or accepted, I guess I latch onto them really easily, because of how terrified I am of them leaving. Also, that story about me as a kid is true–I really did used to do that. 

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december 1st 2019 (spoken word)


“La Llamada de Ile” used according to license, from the amazing https://patrickdearteaga.com/
“Tornado Siren II Sound” by Delilah on http://soundbible.com/ (http://soundbible.com/1937-Tornado-Siren-II.html)
“Night Rain In Russian City Sound” by Alexander Tram on http://soundbible.com/ (http://soundbible.com/2059-Night-Rain-In-Russian-City.html)
All sounds have been lightly edited/adjusted for volume by me.

Read the text of this poem here.

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social media and an update on my life

so, hi there! how are you doing? are you functioning? i’m kind of functioning maybe? of late, i’ve been actually trying to, you know, take care of myself, which is honestly a little bit of a foreign concept. i’ve been recording videos for the youtube channel a lot, and yes, i am doing the thing where because youtube is new in my life i’m deciding to throw myself at the thing with all my might. which then leads to me burning myself out. and that really sucks.

also, i’m doing my own poetry performance in my town, so the youtube channel is kind of a performance mechanism. so far, most of the poems i’ve uploaded there are ones i’m going to read. i try to edit one poem a day–i have them all written and stuff, and i’ve got a rough sketch of the order they’ll be in, but i still need to figure out the rest. so yeah. not sure if the regular posting thing is going to be somewhat sustainable after july ends, but we’ll see what happens. 🙂

i’ve been trying to stop punching myself as hard as i can. i recently read the book girl in peices by kathleen glasgow, which is about a 17-year-old girl who self-harms. she describes self-harm as a kind of escape mechanism, a way of numbing the pain. that’s what self-harm is for me, too. whenever everything feels like it’s falling apart, or i feel overwhelmed or out of control… that’s the first place i go. it’s been a lot better now that i’m making an active effort to get on top of my overeating and self-harm, and i have an app called calm harm that i highly recommend for anyone who struggles with self-harm. anyway, but this afternoon, i cracked.  i was in a fight, and it was getting too much for me and the person disapproved a lot of one of my decisions. and the feelings just sort of kept rising. so i ended up going into the office in my house and closing the door and punching my thighs until i felt better. and… it does feel better, afterward. that doesn’t mean it’s a healthy coping mechanism, and in no way am i endorsing self-harm. but afterward, it feels empty, and that…. that feeling is addictive. especially for someone who is constantly in her feelings. and i know if i was more able to talk about it with ease, i could work through it a lot faster, which is something i’m trying my hardest to do. but talking about my weaknesses is hard, especially when i just changed therapists, so i don’t entirely really trust the new person i’m talking to, and i’m still not sure whether we’re a good match or not. my old therapist was always willing to let me steer our conversations, because she knew that i worked best when i was managing myself and mostly i just needed her to listen to my emotional vomit and interject and help iron out my mind a bit. but this new therapist seems like she’s more trying to control the conversation and plan things out and plot my life into neat boxes, which is probably because she was trained to work with teenagers, and because i’m mature for my age, and it usually gets people really surprised. which kind of drives me mental. it gets exhausting after a while, always being the anomaly. the different one. anyway, it’s not necessarily a bad thing… but it is difficult. and i was starting to form a bond with my first therapist, and now i basically can’t talk to her again. which really hurts. i don’t know how to handle things being gone from my life. and what i really mean by that is, i don’t know how to handle change. i don’t know how to handle feeling like other people control me, partially because in a quiet way… i feel out of control constantly. out of control because of society, out of control because of the universe, out of control because of self-harm and overeating and insecurity and depersonalization and negative self-talk and intrusive thoughts and anxiety. it’s enough when it’s just all of that internal out-of-control-ness. but when that feeling surrounds me outside, too, when i feel like someone else defines me more than i define me. i fall apart. sometimes out loud, sometimes inside.

good non-depressing things that have happened to me this week
  • a week ago i gave myself a pixie cut on impulse. literally on impulse. i had thought about it all morning and i was set on doing it by the time i got home around 1p.m.. i panicked at first, and i was super worried i wouldn’t look feminine and people would judge me for it and many panic attacks were had over it. now i just love it, because my hair is short and goddamn it long hair is irritating and i didn’t even realize how irritating it was until this moment OH MY GOD. also, short hair makes me feel really badass and confident, and it kind of helps me feel less anxious.
  • i have decided that i want a tattoo in the long-term future and i’m proud of myself for this decision because my parents hate tattoos and because disagreeing with people and doing things without anyone’s validation is really hard for me.
  • today i went swimming and walking on my own, which is something i haven’t done in a long time (walking) and have also never done (swimming). i know, i know. up until now, i kind of just assumed that if you wanted to go to the beach you couldn’t do it without another person.
  • i’m lowkey thinking about taking martial arts classes or trying to teach myself over the summer or sometime in september, because i want to not feel helpless of like i’m at the whims of other people, and i feel like that might help me feel more in control of my own body, which might maybe ease the intrusive thoughts. like i can defend against the monsters in my head too, somehow. like i said above, i feel controlled a lot, and i hate that feeling, and i want to do as many things as possible to fight that if it’s at all possible.

so there you go. that’s my mind in a nutshell right now, and i feel a little better now i’ve gotten all of that out. have a complimentary youtube video. this poem was super popular in february, so ENJOY IT UNIVERSE. i might repost the edited, good-as-new version later. ❤


my wattpad can be viewed here,  my tumblr can be viewed here, and my youtube channel can be viewed here. the poems that i posted today can be read here and here, and the poems i posted last friday can be read here, here, here, here, and here. if you need to talk to anyone about any of the things discussed in this post, view this masterlist of international hotlines here. i know this is hard to remember, and i know it doesn’t always feel like this, but having mental illness does not make you weak, crazy, ugly, wrong, worthless, or incapable of love. it makes you strong. ❤