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littlemissinvisble

It's a bubbly life ^~^

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February 2017

Wave after wave. 

I feel like wave after wave of anxiety is washing over me lately. I’ve had to lie so much. I feel half alive, but mostly dead. I hate it so fucking much. I hate doing it, but I keep doing it. If I don’t do it I can’t see him and I am attached to him…

I feel like I’m screaming into the void, but it doesn’t even matter because the thing is nobody gives a shit about me. Nobody cares.  I have no real friends at this point in my life. Things just keep getting worse and worse…I haven’t had my period this month. I could potentially be pregnant so that’s fucking fantastic. That would just be the fucking cherry on the sundae wouldn’t it. I’m sixteen I can’t be pregnant. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. If I am, my life is gonna be like 20 times worse. My parents are gonna dislike me more, I’ll have to do it all on my own whether that’s an abortion or keeping it. All I know is I better not be. I hope it’s just late I mean that happens sometimes when you get fucked.

I have been continually down and did the responsible thing and asked to be put back on antidepressants, but I was ignored. Thanks a lot mom.

Just fuck my life.

Everything is too much.

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You have to get drunk to love me. 

Cigarette lovers 

Breathe in toxins 

each other 

Methanol 

Turkish royals  
Beer bottles  

Captain Morgan shots 

Cold, sober for just a second 

Intoxicated, blurry hands

Don’t stand so close to me 
Sometimes it’s so easy 

He has to get drunk to love me

Has to get high to sleep 

Has to smoke to be in the same room

There’s more I need 

Still I keep coming back to you 

Wouldn’t you think it’s amazing 

Isn’t it so damn amazing 
I wish I could do this everyday

You whispered 

I love it when you smile 

You stroked my hair 

I love you 

You said again and again 

Sigh

I am once again at a standstill in my mental and emotional state. Constance has yet to respond to the note I wrote her asking her to consider seriously putting me back on antidepressants. I’m sick of being down and sad all the time for no reason other than I am. I’ve been like a ghost going through my days. Putting in the minimum effort to keep living. Barely eating or drinking anything. Oh did I mention I relapsed? Well I did. I thought that if I didn’t feel like shit all the time for no reason other than my brain being messed up then maybe I could have a fighting chance. Constance won’t even give me that chance.

How can you do that to your own child? They’ve been depressed since 5th grade and you’re just going to let them continue suffering. How fucked up can you get? Thanks for nothing. I don’t know why I got so hopeful for nothing. I’ve lost track of how many times she’s continually let me down. Fuck my life.

Another thing, someone close to me recently got mad at me and asked me a question.

“Why would you do that to your beautiful body?”

My physical image was damaged, that’s all they cared about. The conversation got more and more shallow as it continued on. I’m disappointed in myself, but to make it all about ruining my “beauty” to quote. How stupid. I apologized anyways. I said I’m sorry, I know how it feels to be intimate with someone who self harms. I dated someone who did and it made me feel like complete shit when they did it. I promised said person/significant other/ thing that I would not cut myself again. It doesn’t feel so good when you’re with someone and they keep hurting themselves and you’re not even a good enough reason for them to stop. Your love isn’t good enough. Of course being the cutter and also the person trying to stop the cutter, I see both perspectives. Self harm isn’t ever something to say that it’s ok, but once you get dragged into it…well it’s hard to get out of it. You just keep getting stressed and anxious and have no release other than your wrist, your leg, your stomach etc. Or at least it seems impossible like there isn’t any other way. There is though.  You find a reason not to…and most of the times it has to be for yourself. To feel better and to break the cycle. You can’t stop hurting yourself for someone else…it’s silly and if something happens between the two of you. Well you’re back at square one.

I want you guys to read my short story before revision week when it gets edited :)

Introductory note: The formatting always gets screwed up on WordPress whenever I upload it sooooo…I guess I’ll just roll with it! Enjoy and let me know what you think. My creative writing teacher said to dumb down the main character and not have her have mental issues, but I think it enhances the story. He said make it about an imperfect girl becoming a little more perfect. I didn’t tell him I wouldn’t change it. I hope that when he reads it he will get how it all fits together. 
Chapter 1: If it’s destroying you, is that love?

A girl came out of an old house on the streetway. Illuminated by the
streetlights, she walked cautiously and at a fast pace away from the house. Only to come to the top of the street. She waited pacing back and forth.
A worn jeep rolled up to the unpromising street way. She walked across the
main road with urgence. The man in the driver’s seat disappeared from view for a few seconds and the door was opened tentatively. The girl hesitated, but she got in. Bruises were barely conceivable on her forearms and legs. Cigarette smoke swirled around inside the jeep, this was her escape.
He looked at her as he drove.
“Are you sick?” he said.
“Am I sick?” She looked out the window.
“Sick or maybe delusional, why would you think I would be asleep?”
“I don’t know, sometimes nobody’s…”
“Well, I’m always.” He placed his hand over hers.
“I’m…scared.”
“Your arm–”
“Fuck off…” She shifted away from him
“Charlotte…” His hands gripped the steering wheel. He bit his lip.
Charlotte turned her head and shivered nervously looking over her shoulder.
Two beaming headlights trail behind them. Following. Smoke encompassed her; it’s hard to breathe. Yet it wraps around her like a warm linen. The cityscape rose up in the distance.The streets were empty and illuminated as the jeep pulled into the city, out of place.
The jeep pulled up to a wilting hotel in decay. Cars filled the parking lot. The
man got out of the car, worn out black converse tapping on the pavement. He walked around the back of the jeep and stopped for a minute in front of the girls door. He tentatively opened it up and roughly grabbed her wrist, much more harshly than necessary. He tugs her out of the jeep like a small rag doll. She tumbles to the ground, but doesn’t fall. He holds her up carefully, steadying. She swayed back and forth slowly she looked up into his eyes.

“I want to feel something.” She ran her hand over his cheek.
“Or maybe you want to feel nothing.”
“You don’t know anything–”
“What makes you think you know something? You don’t know anything.
You’re fucking sixteen, Charlotte.” He yanked her wrist.
“What…”
“You’re naive if you think people actually care about you–”
“They care more than you ever–”
“Shut up.”
“I–”
“Grow up.” He looked at the ground.
***
About a week later, she laid on his bed with minimal clothing on,
shivering underneath the thin blanket. The big t.v. was static in the background and she did not care to pay it any attention. She was more concerned about where he had gone. She sat curled up in a ball looking down at her hands. They shook violently, tears began streaming down her cheeks.

The door creaked open.
“Hey.”
“Hey Ace,” she looked up at him.
“Do you want a drink?”
“What’ve you got?”
“Liquor, coolers.”
“Ok,” she was visibly shivering.
He left the room and returned a short time later a blue drink in his
hand. She looked blankly at the glass as he sat down next to her on the bed. He
looked at her expectant, she sat completely still.

He inhaled sharply.
“Have you ever had a drink before?”
“Not an alcoholic one.”
“Well I meant…”
“Is this ok?”
“It’s 15% it’s some pussy ass alcohol compared to what I
usually drink.” He strokes her back.
She took a big drink and almost immediately started coughing.
“Damn that burns..”
“Oh sweetheart we have a ways to go with you.”

Maybe two hours later the drink kicked in Charlotte fell lazily on top of
him. He smiled and held the small girl. He kissed her forehead and pushed her blonde hair out of her face.
“What have I done?”
Chapter 2: Broken

“Yes mom.” Charlotte poured the cup of essential oils down the drain.
“I drank it all.”

Charlotte walked up the steps to her room. She locked the door behind
her and lit a candle to mask the scent of her Turkish royal cigarettes. It had been a gift from Ace. He had told Charlotte he didn’t like it when his girl didn’t have what she needed. She smiled down at the cigarettes. The anxiety went away.

A knock on the door. Charlotte slid the box of camels under her blanket.
“Are you going to school today?”
“No, I’m not up to it.”
“Charlotte there are things called truancy laws–”
“I know.”
“You’ve missed so many days…”
“I haven’t missed anything important and my grades are good, what’s the
problem?”
“You can’t hide from life forever.”
“You’re such a fucking pushover you let me.”
“I’m trying my best.”
The woman backed out of the room and shut the door. Charlotte blankly stared
at the ceiling. She slowly drifted off into a much needed nap. She didn’t see the pack of camels fall onto the floor of her room.
***
Charlotte’s mom entered the room. She quietly put the laundry basket
on the bed. There were pop bottles and energy drinks in every corner of the room. The room smelt like a vanilla candle and something else. She couldn’t quite place what it was, but it made the room feel stuffy. An object was crouched under a pile of papers with red ink all over them. She moved the papers and underneath was a memory box. She opened it cautiously. Inside there were birthday cards, concert tickets, necklaces, photos. One stack of pictures stood out. A stack of family photos which had been carefully, elaborately altered. Her face had been scratched out, cut out, or scribbled over with the same red ink all over the papers that had been covering the box.

The door creaked open.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“What have you been doing in your room…”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Only by blood.”

Charlotte’s mom looked at her daughter and then down at the
memory box.

“What is this..?”
“You should know, you gave it to me…”
“I did?”
“I don’t know why I thought you would remember.”
“Charlotte, let me fix this-”
“You don’t break something and put it back together…”
“Charlotte-”
“I’m not a little girl anymore, maybe you would know that if you were actually around.”

***
Ace looked down at the phone in his hand, nothing. Not a single notification.
Their last conversation Charlotte had been too drunk to comprehend anything he said to her. He glanced at a picture of her smiling, bright blue eyes. She was fragile looking, he rugged and sturdy. One of their more cheerful days together. He had been hesitant to take the picture. It could be used as evidence against him. It was their only picture together.
Charlotte had practically disappeared from existence after the night she slept
over at this place. He wondered if he had done something or if she didn’t want to see him anymore. His mind was running rampant.
His phone dinged.
“Hey Ace.”
“Hey.”
“We need to talk.”
“Are you sure you’re not just using that as an excuse to see me?” He smiled
smugly at his phone.
“No, it’s serious.”

He carefully typed his next words.
“What happened?”
“She found the cigarettes.”
“Does she know where you got them from?”
“No, I lied about it.”
“Thank god.”

Chapter 3: Touch has a memory

“I don’t like it when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry-”
“When you’re in a relationship you don’t keep things from each other.”
“Ace-”
“It’s rude as all hell.”

Ace got up and walked out of the room to give Charlotte some space. Charlotte
rubbed her arm. He had left a red mark on it, but it was nothing compared to the rest of her body. Her back was another story.

***
Music blared and was only amplified off of the walls of the bathroom. The
mirror had long since fogged over. Charlotte sat in the shower and let the scorching water wash over her. It stung, but it hurt far less than anything else had in the past few months.

There was a knock on the door, but it was ignored. Charlotte sat still in the
shower her head down with tears falling down her face.

Another knock.
“Charlotte, you’ve been in there over an hour.”
“I can’t get clean.”
“What are you talking about…”
“I keep trying..but I can’t…”
“Charlotte, open the door.”
“No…”

Charlotte’s mom unlocked the door using the key to find her daughter sitting in
the shower. Her back was covered with cuts and bruises. She rushed over to her. She turned off the water and tried to reach for her daughter.

Charlotte screamed.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Charlotte, who did this to you…”
“Nobody…”
“Somebody had to have given you those…”

Charlotte got up and grabbed a towel. She stormed out of the bathroom and up
to her room. Charlotte’s mother sat on the bathroom floor. Water dripped from her hair and clothes. She didn’t move for several minutes.

***
“Charlotte, I don’t know who gave those to you, but I swear to god you’re not
seeing them again.”
“You don’t have any control over who I choose to hang out with.”
“Charlotte, they’re hurting you–”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“What is there to understand?”
“I–”
“No, you’re miserable crying in the shower…”

Charlotte said nothing more but simply nodded her head. There was no point
in this conversation continuing.

Charlotte’s mom left the room and walked down the stairs. She didn’t hear the
ding Charlotte’s phone made or the sound of the cool night air moving into Charlotte’s room. She didn’t pay enough attention to hear the sound of Charlotte removing the window screen or the sound of Charlotte sliding out and down onto ground level.
Chapter 4: Anything and Everything in moderation

Ace and Charlotte laid in his bed and he held her close. He kissed her
forehead. A familiar scene for the both of them. There was comfort in it, but also tension. A sort of caution between the both of them.

He pulled her on top of him.
“If you learn anything from me it will be this; anything and everything in
moderation.”

Charlotte said nothing, but inhaled peacefully. She felt him shift underneath
her. She thought nothing of this, he was most likely uncomfortable. Then it happened, he hit her.

“What did I say?”
“Anything and everything in moderation.” She shook.
“Good girl, I’ve done a lot of things in my life, but never enough to get
hooked.”

He got up and started to put his clothes on for the day. She followed suit
hastily and found her clothes scattered around his room from the night before. She laced up her converse and threw a hoodie over herself. Not really bothering to present herself, it was just another day. Charlotte did not want to anger Ace any further than she already had.

***
Ace and Charlotte drove around looking for somewhere to eat. Ace
spotted a Perkins. It wasn’t too risky to eat there and they could pull it off.

He turned the music down.
“Ok, you’re gonna be my little sister.”
“I think I can pull it off.”
“Or we can just say you’re eighteen you look the part.”
“At most I can pull off ten,” She laughed.
“You’re gonna make me feel worse than I already do.”

They smiled at each other. He pulled into the parking lot and parked the
jeep. It was very crowded with many college students. His eyes darted back and forth. Charlotte got out of the jeep. They walked in together keeping a distance between each other.

They were escorted to a booth and sat across from each other. Charlotte looked
down at her phone. There were several messages from her mother. She quickly slid it back into the pocket of her hoodie. Several minutes later they got a to go box and were on the road. Ace had bought her a slice of French silk pie.
***
Charlotte sat in the passenger seat of his jeep a few blocks away from her
work. It was at least ten minutes before her shift started. She was in no rush to go to work earlier than necessary.

“You’ll forget about me when you meet someone more appropriate
someone your own age.”
“No Ace I would never–”
“Charlotte when it comes to settling down and having someone’s children even
though you say you don’t want any–”
“Age doesn’t bother me Ace.”
“It wouldn’t be till next spring when you graduate I can’t–”
“You didn’t care about that before–”
“Look sweetheart I just wanted you–”

Charlotte grabbed her things and got out of the jeep slamming the door behind
her. She walked off tears streaming down her face.

“Charlotte,” he banged his hands against the steering wheel.

She whipped around and threw the piece of pie on the ground. There was not a
doubt that this was over, it was done. At least for now.
***

Charlotte’s mom pushed the door of Charlotte’s room open. Her entire body
was shaking with anger, but there was only disappointment in her eyes.

She held up a bottle of Charlotte’s pills.
“Why was this in the trash?”
“I don’t need them.”
“Charlotte, you need them to stabilize you…”
“You don’t know me or anything about me.”
“I know that I expect you to make the right decisions.”
“I…”
“If you say you can’t I will…”
“I won’t say I can’t it’s a matter of want.”
“It’s up to you to make decisions.”
“I know that…”
“Then you know it’s up to you to stop making all the negative ones.”
“You say that like it’s so fucking easy.”
“Because I believe you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Charlotte, life isn’t out to get you.”
“Then why do I and everybody I love settle for less?”
“I think…people are afraid to expect more for themselves.”
“Mom…”
“You haven’t called me that…”

Charlotte’s mom wrapped Charlotte in a hug. Charlotte didn’t fight it, but
collapsed in her mother’s arms. For the first time in a few months they just sat together. There was no screaming, no storming out of the room, no pushing away. Just a warm heartfelt embrace, mother and child.

“Can I really change?”
“That’s up to you.”

Something pretty great happened 

I reached out to my siblings in hopes that they would talk to Connie about putting me back on antidepressants because she in unreasonable and doesn’t listen to me. I was scared to even reach out to them, but it was necessary…

The thing is brothers doctor said usually with mental issues you can prescribe similar medicine to siblings. So herego my older brother has depression and I can be put on whatever he is taking. I don’t know if it will work, but a month trial should tell. I look forward with hope, because it’s up to me to start doing what’s best for me even if it takes negotiating with the lady who gave birth to me. 

Counseling has never helped because I have no solid reason to be depressed. I just am for no reason, it also turns out the more kids you have the more likeliehood to have mental illness. I have eight brothers and two sisters. That explain it for you all?

Hopefully, I will not have to rely on music, on people, on trivial things to keep me happy. There is only so much edgy music I can listen to, to help lol. Hopefully I won’t have to focus as hard on it and I will just live my life like a somewhat normal human being. I know this is really overly optimistic, but my hopes are really up there. For my future..I could actually make it past 12th grade…as dark as it is I never saw myself graduating high school. I could have more overall motivation to make it through all of this…

Coincidently it turns out the medicine he takes Wellbutrin also helps ease people out of smoking habits so it’s like a double win! 🙂 

Thank you brother. I love you so much. 

-littlemissinvisible 

I have it all planned…

It would be around midnight..a clear night with all the stars out..it’s cold and smells like cigarettes. 

I’ve said all my goodbyes, nobody did anything significant enough to stop what’s about about to happen…a song is playing as I drink the isopropyl…

How Far we’ve come by matchbox 20 because it’s important to me…I hope I gave enough closure as to why I’m about to do what I’m about to do. I would probably be smoking…my throat would burn..I’d probably be coughing loudly..so all of it would have to happen away from anybody who could stop me. 

I want to look decent when I die…so I would probably be dressed up nicely so when they found my body…I don’t know, but I would look good. I’m selfish.

My body would probably be covered in cuts from myself because that’s how it is rn..it’s covered from head to toe in little cuts. 

My playlist would be as follows: 

-how Far we’ve come by matchbox 20 

-Find a way by safetysuit 

-last song ever by secondhand serenade 

-you and me by lifehouse 

-going to california by Led Zeppelin 

-Your guardian angel by red jumpsuit apparatus 

-Ticking bomb by Aloe Blacc

It would be at nighttime because no one would be up. Everytime I have tried to kill myself it was in the middle of the night because that way no one can stop me. No one can respond to the long loving messages I have left them as my last goodbye. It’s improper that, that is their last message from me. Me explaining how I am weak and unable to handle anything anymore. How nothing has any meaning anymore…how it’s all so pointless. How there’s only one person I care about and it doesn’t matter because spoiler alert I pushed them away too. Find someone better, find someone stronger. There isn’t anybody able to handle me. I’m a self destructive mess and the whole world would be better off if I finally exploded. 

People would be sad for awhile. Then it would be fine. Forgotten just like every other person who’s taken their own life. 

Strawberry. 

I hate that you don’t want to be friends anymore. I hate that I pushed you away from me. That I made you not care anymore. I hate that the last goodbye you gave me was while I was at work. I hate that it’s all so unemotional. I hate that you probably won’t even bother to read this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I could probably write that a hundred times and you wouldn’t believe me, but even if you don’t I mean it. I went down a dark path of stupid decisions because I wanted to get away from all the crap happening in my life. I hate that I wasn’t a good friend to you, when that’s what you deserved. I wasn’t there for you and now you’re gone. I hate that I never bothered to talk to you about your problems and it was always about me. I hate that I was selfish and even now I’m being selfish because I just can’t let go. You’re probably a lot happier without me and all my negativity. You’re probably fine. While I’m not. I hate that because of it all I stopped caring about anything and everything lost its meaning to me. Nothing matters without you and I don’t know why, people say that when you care about the other persons happiness more it’s love then. That doesn’t matter because you won’t even talk to me anymore and it’s killing me inside. None of my tangents and stupidity was worth it in the end. We’ve had so many good times together and it all feels like it was a waste because now we can’t have anymore. There’s so much I just want to scream at you, but I can’t. Closure? I get none. 

Here’s the thing

I feel more and more alone than ever before in my short 16 years of this dreaded life. Basically my only friend who I felt comfortable talking to about my personal issues and all of that jazz is leaving. So that’s a thing. I feel awful for loathing him a little bit for leaving me behind in  my desolate suburban boring life. I like having a friend to just talk to about all my problems and stuff because I can’t talk to a counselor or anything like that. For me personally it’s just associated with bad memories. A sort of reaction to me trying to end my own life rather than a cautionary action when it was clear I was not mentally or emotionally  doing well.

It’s difficult, but it’s not like I want to die or anything like that just a little bit down I guess and totally, utterly, completely lonely as all hell man. Vitamin water is kind of gross and you think it’d be good but it’s not that good little did you know. Random thought. My brain is a mess rn if I am being honest. I have rampant thoughts running all through my mind right now. I’m just trying to get everything back together and get my grades back up there again.

I’m trying to keep writing my story, but the characters are at a standstill right now I have the resolution and everything in my head . It’s just realistically making the main character come to this resolution at this point. I have to keep bringing my creative writing teacher the pages. That’s all he ever seems to say, “Bring me pages.”

He intimidates me just a little bit, he expects things from me when I am nothing special I don’t have a gift for dialogue. I just have a way of my characters projecting every single little thing that I wanted to say in my life, but never did because I’m not good at talking. I can write out what I want to say with ease, but actually talking. That’s extremely difficult.

I feel like I missed the lecture where we all learned how to make new friends and all that jazz with ease. One thing it’s not like I have zero friends so you know don’t be thinking oh my lawd this girl is a loser. Even though I would agree with that statement. Loser ln. loserville population me and some of the people I’ve dated. Oops.

Feels bad man. Excuse me while I go figure out this whole life thing.

-Littlemissinvisible.

 

I will miss him a boat ton

One of my friends is leaving for the navy tomorrow and I messed up you guys. I didn’t get to see him one last time, I even got him a card and everything. This is the same guy who cheated on me a year ago when I was in tenth grade. Here’s the thing though I learned something really important and that is that people do change for the better he is living, breathing proof that it can happen.

A year ago he hurt me badly. We were dating, but not really because his alcohol and cigarettes were more important to him than me which really hurt me. He also had been seeing his ex again behind my back and cheating on me with her. When I found out it burnt really bad but I forgave him. Then he did it again.

He wasn’t that great of a person at that time. He was going through a lot of stuff and so was I. It was the cliche case of right person wrong time rather than right place wrong time. This year I recently started talking to him again and apologized for being an emo dipshit when he dated me lol. He too apologized to me sincerely a matter of days ago. It was real. He’s quit smoking and drinking all together. He’s really sobered up.

If he can turn his life around then it feels like I can too. I can also learn from all of this and kick addiction right in the balls. It’s going to be ok. Everything will get better and he just reassured me that it would, that it will only keep getting better. It’s only up from here. I really am going to miss him so much though.

-littlemissinvisble.

 

 

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