The number one thing on the list of "Top Thirty Things You Need to Stop Doing to Yourself"
Stop spending time with the wrong people. – Life is too short to spend time with people who suck the happiness out of you. If someone wants you in their life, they’ll make room for you. You shouldn’t have to fight for a spot. Never, ever insist yourself to someone who continuously overlooks your worth. And remember, it’s not the people that stand by your side when you’re at your best, but the ones who stand beside you when you’re at your worst that are your true friends.
Coach tells everyone who isn’t a Senior to walk out and stand in the hall of the locker while us Seniors stay. The few of us stand in a circle and automatically start shaking hands and giving hugs like we were saying good bye forever. In a way we were. Never again will we able to look at the other sidelines through the crimson bars of our face masks as one team. One family.
Tears flowed tonight from everyone. Not a single Senior didn’t feel the bond we share and how tonight would be the last time we walked out from the locker room and onto the field as a team. I’m damn proud to have been a part of this crazy ass family.
I find myself in this position often for either emotion. It’s hard sometimes to determine whether you’re being too sensitive when in fact, you know what the other person or persons intentions are. Then there are the times where you might not see…
My friends. Mean more to me than the average person. I cherish them even when it seems like I don’t. I’m not one to speak up about the way I feel so don’t expect much. This brings us to the reason why I have the friends I have. They’re very understanding and caring. Or at least that was my perception of them.
I know I can be a flake and leave you guys hanging, but there’s no way in hell I do it just to do it. I don’t leave my friends hanging just because I placed them on the bottom of my priority list. I don’t even have one. And if I did there would be nothing I would enjoy more than to hangout with who were my favorite people. A lot of times I make up excuses of why I can’t hangout when in reality I have no money. Even when I’m certain my friends would spot me it effects a persons self esteem when in teh past few hangouts everyone has had money but you. That feeling just doesn’t sit well with me. So I lie. There you happy? I lie when I can’t hangout. Most of the time it’s because I don’t have money and the other times its because I legitimately not able to make it.
This past weekend I made the wrong choices, but never in my mind did I just decide to ditch out on anyone. But the sad reality of it is that I did just that. But never for a bs reason.
I love my friends, because I always felt comfortable being around them. But when you’re depressed you nitpick at every detail. And when the color of your skin becomes the butt of jokes in your circle of friends. It makes you question them.
I know this may sound like a bunch of bs and whiny talk. But sometimes when you’ve had enough, you’ve had enough.
If the concept of 'feelings for someone' was personified.....
He, lets say his name was Dave, would be the rudest asshole you’d ever meet. Dave would mooch off of your thoughts and invade every minute of your daily life. Dave would put doubt and hope into your head and you’ll be sucked into a cloudy confusion. Dave would come and go as he pleases, and at random times. Dave will suck the life out of you and can even make you feel despair. Dave can live with you quietly, but will never go away.
I wish I didn’t over think things so much. I wish things could be more simple then me having to guess how things are going to end up like. Only time will tell, I’m going to have to be patient and wait to see if it goes good or bad.
I know when I write shit I get literal and shit to get my point across, but sometimes you got to talk in a language no one can ignore. I like to write poems. Fuck yeah I do. How else is a guy like me suppose to vent? Here we go.
Fuck love, liking, and complicated crushes
you’s and me’s get together and make a bunch of us’s
We can like each other but only in secrets
foggy feelings unshared, crazy accidents
Foe friendly, friendly foe, love to me, love unknown
small feelings infect the mind, love coaster here we go
you get hurt, i get hurt, kiss your bruises,
keep the scars, pain, both end up losers.
I dont know? I do know. We both know. I give up. If you’re too scared then this isnt for you.
I want a late night adventure. I want someone to call me up and say, “I’m outside. Let’s go do something!” I want to go out late at night in my pj’s and my hair a mess. Maybe drive around. Go to a park and just swing on the swings. Maybe sit in the grass and watch the stars or maybe go to a 24 hour food place and pig out. I just want a late night adventure with people I like to be around. No drama. Nothing but good vibes and good company.
So I’m laying here in bed and of course a long train of thought begins. And NO I’m not talking about those kinds of thoughts, lol. Orientation is a few hours away and I’m probably going to pull an all-nighter, given that I am a dumbass. I’m kind of excited to go. It’s that feeling of seeing the UB fam, but ultimately seeing all the fresh new faces. That feeling that makes you think, ” Damn. That was me 3 years ago.”. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember seeing Ni and Catherine for the first time. And Davy getting on my nerves those first few days. lol. I remember the bus ride to camp and how much I dreaded being on the bus with a bunch of strangers. Gabe was the only “friend” I had. I sat next to Isauwni and I remember being to scared to adjust my seating position because he looked like a really mean black guy. haha he surprisingly turned out to be the nicest black guys you would ever meet. I remember getting of and setting foot out into the sun. I remember setting foot into the cabin and the smell. That smelly smell…that smells…smelly. It smelled like camp alright. I remember the boat ride with Ni and Catherine and Gabe. I remember Ni’s crazy obsession with Chris Meyers. Yes, even in the past…Ni was obsessing over some black guy. I remember loving the freedom of camp. I remember hangign out with the black kids because Gabe ditched me for Catherine. I remember camp ending and the ride back and how the ride back, on a long trip, feels shorter than the ride there.
Well tomorrow we start that cycle all over again. But this time I have more priceless friends to share it with. See you all at Orientation.
Don’t take this personal, but if you all want to complain about us guys and then turn around and do the same shit to us, then stfu about your heartache bullshit. No one cares. If you want honest loving guys, then don’t say we’re rare, because we aren’t. You ladies are either ‘too picky’ or blind OR both. And again stfu. And don’t go around talking about “looks aren’t important” or ” beauty is on the inside” because you damn well know that’s the first, and for some, the only thing you like about us guys. Appearance is everything to you ladies. And don’t get me wrong. It can be the same for a lot of us guys, but you ladies manage to get away with it. Why? I don’t know.
p.s. Can one of you lovely ladies explain the concept ‘being too scared to commit’? Thanks.
Fuck being a teenager. Fuck loving the people that don’t give a shit about you. Fuck staying up at night thinking about someone that doesn’t care about you. Fuck being led on. Fuck crying over someone that broke your heart. Fuck the friends that leave you once they find a boyfriend/girlfriend. Fuck parents that have a go at you for everything that you do. Fuck the people that have too high expectations of you. Fuck the people that think you’re capable of nothing. Fuck sitting at home feeling lonely. Fuck feeling like there is no one that loves you. Fuck seeing the people that you love change and leave you behind. Fuck the people that don’t appreciate you. Fuck growing up.
Void? What does void even mean? I’m going to ball park it and guess it is some type of empty black hole of zero worth where matter once existed. Well Ever since last week one has carved its home into my heart? Mind? I don’t know. What is fact is this feeling of emptiness that I put onto myself. Oh no this isn’t your average teen depression story. This is worse and it spreads it’s ugly arms through the sensitive tangles of time. Back when my AP Statistics teacher was just ayoung lady.
So how did this story come about? Just like any other.
I sat in class flustered at the thought of 6 consecutive FRQ’s. The practice exam stared back at me maliciously with my pencil attached to my arm. My face evolving from a stoic mask, to a contorted rage. My teacher, with her average voice, strides to the right of my seat and peeps over my head to evaluate my progress. She notices my lengthy despair and asks what’s wrong. Me, being the dumbass, says-the-wrong-things-at-the-wrong-time type of guy, deflects her soft spoken question with this:
"Mrs. Uppendahl. I want to kill myself."
Her worn smile twisted into a half-cringe and I realized I hit a nerve. Her eyes adopted a pink shade and I could feel her fighting long lost tears back. She whispered, barely audible ” Can I talk to you in the hall, please?”. I could feel eyes shift towards us. We walked into the quiet hall and she shut the door. Was I in trouble? What did I do wrong?
"I’m sorry. It was just a joke. I’ll focus."
"Is everything ok Reggie?"
The seriousness in her voice didn’t fit her character. This made the feeling of uneasiness easy to take root into my stomach. Or maybe it was the trace of depression that her question had unearthed.
"Yeah, why?" My answer was automated. As if to lure the curious minds away from the path to my disheartened mind. The question was familiar, but never had it been asked by an authoritarian figure. It was a shot in the dark at my subconscious and she nearly hit her mark. My face remained unaffected.
"You know, my brother, when we were kids your age, hung himself. It was the most depressing and saddest moment on many peoples lives, including my own."
Damn. The uneasiness was snatched away, but in its place was the ugly head of guilt.
The convo went on like this for a few short minutes, and, as always, my unrighteous mind escaped discovery.
But, its the aftermath that hurts the most. For days I’ve been in a reclusive state of nothingness. A void striving to be introduced to anything. It looms over my head every moment of the day. And yet, somehow I manage to escape capture. And at the same time, I long for the day of capture. The day somebody can look past my facade and realized there’s a scared little boy screaming to be found. Waiting for this game of hide-and-seek to be over. Years he’s been alone on his island of thoughts and misleading gestures. Years he’s endured mental rape and misfortune. Years he’s attempted to decipher the code of love and happiness, only to be presented with a new puzzle at each turn. Years he’s been hiding away in his box of smiles and laughter, but he’s tired of waiting to be found. Year’s depression has become a household name, but never, ever, would he have imagined it would rear it’s ugly head with a new mask on.
So I was sitting on my bed facebooking and listening to “Gravity- John Mayer” When my little brother, G-Rick (5yrs), walks in and sits next to me. Keep in mind he just got done crying, because I wouldn’t let him go outside alone. And when I say crying I mean CRYING. He gave up on the park idea and just sat by me.
G: “What r you doing?”
Me: “Sigh. Nothing.”
Me: “What do you want?”
Me: ” Wanna know something?”
Me:” Love stinks. it doesn’t exist when you’re a teenager.”
*I pretty much assumed he wouldn’t understand anything I said.