i'm ashamed. i'm the disgrace of the family and everyone will think even less of me than before; i'm the disappointment of the year. i'm writing this now because i'm afraid i won't remember it tomorrow or the day after. i'm writing this because i need to learn from my mistakes, and by those, i shall remember.
i'm stupid. how am i still in my right mind and yet not quite in my body. half the things i'm doing, i'm seeing in third person. half the things i'm thinking are not thoughts going through my head; they're beeing transfered into some word converter-from thought to hands of this girl that is not me-and then there onto the screen, i read it back; misspelled and gramatically incorrect, i try to type this and get it all off of my chest simultaneously. i remind the future self-the sober self reading this-i'm not in my right mind right now.
for the entire month, i've been under such extreme pressure, so much caused by the evil voice in my head, telling me to do everything right, to be perfect, and control those things which i, as a person, cannot. this entire time, the point of my yearned success was a result of my fear. i was so scared that my parents would be disappointed if i didn't pull my grade up and be as good as my sister. everything i do is because i want to be as good as her. i can no longer deny it.
ash always gets drunk. ash does what she shouldn't and yet all she recieves is unconditional love. i thought it wouldn't matter; i thought it would make things better. i did not give into peer pressure. i asked for it. so it is now, while in my high state, do i accept full responsibility. i wanted drugs; i'd heard so many good things. i shall not blame society for hearing it from the grape vine. i heard only hours ago, drugs are bad from my father. but i wanted to learn first hand. it makes one feel good, supposedly. i wanted to feel more than good. i wanted to feel the best in my life. and i did.
everything's been freeing. i asked for pot brownies. i don't wanna tell mom and dad. i walked into the house, convinced that i was passable. but i can hear mom and dad discussing it; "why would she do it?"
i wanted an escape. for so long, i've been pressuring myself because i didn't wanna fail my class; i wished i had made that layup that i missed; i wanted to be perfect. i couldn't help it. i failed. but i wanted to help myself cope the artificial way; the way that doesn't hurt.
coming from a high and possibly drunken mind-it does hurt. you don't feel it at first; it feels great. you think you're on top of everything; nothing can possibly be unattainable as your grasp reaches the stars, pulling them out and collecting them. you become so perfect, you shine. you're almost godly. you're amazing and nothing can bring you down.
but it doesn't last. all good things come to an end. if only they lasted longer.
 the_forgotten_thought · Sun Dec 20, 2009 @ 08:36am · 1 Comments |
