Bad Thoughts; Bad Teachers and Bad Outcomes.

Guiz, dis post iz relly scarry nd itz da ferst tym ive cum out bout wot happenz in mi hed so im sorrie if it herts ur fealings. I jus got 2 da point were i waz reedii 2 share. so plz b respektfull and understande dat this aint me n e more and I am not dis wai N E more. fanks.

 I'd always been a bit of a cyberchondriac (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyberchondria) - look, even diagnosing my diagnosing issue. Anyway, in 2011 (year 11), one of my teachers started emphasising my lack of empathy. So one day I asked her if she thought I was a Socio-path and she responded with what defines a sociopath and said after that 'yes, you quite possibly could be.' This lead to me taking internet test after internet test to 'see what mental illness you have' or 'which personality disorder do you have' and I never really got high results in the sociopathy range but I did in the borderline and the narcissistic areas. I spent a while contemplating my likelihood of having this and my lack of ability to do anything about it but then I got over it and went back to thinking I was normal.

So in 2012 after a few events where I almost got expelled from school, I fell pretty deeply. I don't think anyone really noticed it but it was hell. For the first few weeks after nearly getting kicked out, my life was hell. I lost the last bit of enjoyment I found in school and I just lost a general excitement for life. Not only this, but my grades came tumbling down and my anger for the world and for the people who had put me in the situation I was in accelerated (I kind of put myself in the situation but it was taken way out of proportion and expulsion should have never been on the cards). I can't say I have the right to blame my teacher because I'm pretty sure it was inevitable to happen and sooner or later, something was ought to set me off sooner or later.

Anyway, after all that went down, I went through a really, really bad anger problem. Anything set me off and I literally got to the stage where I considered killing people. I visualised their murder and I imagined their faces as I took away all they have. I always said back then, that if I ever got to the point where I was going to kill myself, I would have absolutely no hesitations taking a group of people with me. I also used to think that if Australia had American gun laws, I probably would have been the culprit of a harsh and disgusting massacre, had I not loved myself too much either. So  yeah, I got to this new stage where I was genuinely convinced I was a sociopath and instead of trying to get over it, I embraced it. I used to ask people all these sly questions like 'how would you kill someone without getting away with it?' and 'how would you kill yourself?'  - I hated everyone

Maybe I convinced myself of this because I'd cyber-diagnosed myself with sociopathy or maybe I genuinely did hate every one. I invented this thing called the hate list and it was basically a ranking of everyone I hated, a top, a bottom and the inbetween. The only person not on it was my dad. 

People have no idea of what was in my mind. I've gotten to the point where I have to teach myself techniques to stop thinking bad thoughts. Back then, it was everyday and every night. Now, it only comes to me sometimes when I'm trying to sleep. It's horrible. I see people trying to rape me, I see me killing people, I visualise torturing people and I watch myself laugh at this. And I can't get this out of my head. Back then, it was debilitating, infact, it still is. When I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep and an image of me with a knife in my hand, hacking away at someone pops in my head. It takes everything inside of me to get my mind off this thought. I try focussing on my breathing, I try thinking of what I'm doing tomorrow or what I did that day. In the end, sometimes it takes getting up, turning the lights on and watching a video on youtube or something to get it off my mind. 

In the past 6 months, I started getting alot closer to someone. She listens to my late night rants and sometimes I send her excerpts of my blog posts for her to read. I started telling her that I'm not like other people. I don't think like other people and she just kept trying to tell me that I'm more normal than I think and more normal than someone who has had my life should be. I don't think so. I don't think it's normal for people to have those thoughts in their mind. 

I got over my 'phase' - if that's what you can call it.

I don't want to kill anyone, I feel sorry for people - sometimes, maybe

The awful visualisations in my head are recurring less and less and I don't really have that much of an anger issue anymore. 

I'm sorting my shit out. One step at a time, or one less day dream at a time. 

It's hard and honestly, I didn't actually comprehend how hard or how big of a deal it was until literally now, writing this post. 

Seriously, if anyone else has these thoughts and doesn't want them, please email me. I have something to tell you just between us. It helped me and it can help you too for just $29.95 a month.

I'm kidding, I will share my knowledge for free.

xoxo gossip god.

Tribute videos and facebook status'

All you have to do is search 'Rest In Peace' on YouTube to see the hundreds, if not thousands of tribute videos to young people who have passed away.
Whether it be a 14 girl who just killed herself because she was being bullied her whole life, or a 17 year old boy murdered for being black. A ten year old boy who died of leukaemia or a 16 year old girl stabbed on a bus.
I've seen the aftermath of death, who hasn't? I've watched as a whole school completely collapses as one of the students dies. I've watched year 8's have to learn how to go on without their bestfriend. 14 year olds. I've seen countless Facebook status', instagram photos and YouTube videos posted to try and keep this girls memory alive. But the question is, does it really have it's desired effect? or more so, is the desired effect even the moral one?

I've come to notice one certainty in death. You seem the make a hell of a lot of new friends once you're dead. Everyone and their dog claims to have been your best friend and some people find any excuse and claim to have had some form of connection to you. Honestly; I know I did when T.K died. I didn't purposely go out of my way to gain attention from people who would give it, nor did I intentionally exaggerate my relationship with her for any purpose. But I mean, I coached her for a year, I was as close as a year 7 can be to a year 10 which isn't close at all.

I hope, I really do hope, that when people post shit on Facebook and social networks of the like, that they are really doing it out of respect and there is no hidden motive to do it for the attention or for the 'likes' - but sometimes, I just know that it's gone way past the stage of respect.
There comes a time when you have to move on. Posting a status everyday doesn't help anybody, but when the sister of the victim does it, it's causing nothing but harm. I know this sounds rude, but I'm getting a little sick of seeing, what looks like, a dead person's own sister 'milk' her death for the attention. I may be wrong, but I just honestly don't see the point in posting shit about dead people. yes, I'm guilty of this but I've grown up and realised it's pointless.

Cool. watching videos on YouTube of pictures of dead people is really respectful. And listening to depressing music is really fucking healing. Reading status' about how much someone misses someone dead is really productive and seeing pictures posted of this young girl who has passed on Instagram is really fucking inspiring.

I don't know why people, especially people really close to the dead person, see necessity or purpose in publicising their loss. I don't actually see what their is to achieve by writing 'R.I.P sissy! Missing you everyday, life is harder than ever without you baby girl' as their status because it's not like this person can click the 'like' button.

All I know is that when I die, if people I hated and people who hated me even dare to think it's acceptable to come to my funeral, update a status, post a photo of us two that they probably photo shopped, I will haunt the fuck out of them because that shit ain't okay!
JUST KIDDING! I CAN'T HAUNT THEM BECAUSE I'M DEAD AND DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS BEING POSTED ON THE INTERNET LIKE THE REST OF THE FUCKING DEAD PEOPLE!

like, shit nigger! People really need to work their shit out.

homesick

I recently moved out of home.
two weeks ago, today, infact!
Before I left, I was telling people that I was moving 4 hours away and all they kept saying was 'how brave I was' - and all I kept thinking was; 'It's not brave?'

Now I know exactly what they meant.
It was a pretty quick decision. I mean, I was always looking into moving out after school but once I started looking into it, I kind of realised that I would never be able to afford it.
So about 3 and a half weeks ago, I decided to apply for Nursing in Albury-Wodonga, that same day I was accepted and two days later I was up here looking for accomodation. Three days later, my lease application got accepted and within a week, I was in my new apartment. So I never really got much of a chance to think about what it's going to be like and what will happen.

I sort of had this theory that I'd move here, instantly make friends and I'd love it. But the reality is quite the opposite. I didn't know anyone when I came, and I still don't. I know it's only been 2 weeks, but you would think I would at least be in that stage of 'potential friends' with someone by now.

I always just told myself that I am really good with change and I will adapt easy. And honestly, I have adapted alot easier than the majority of people in my situation would have. My whole life has changed basically. I have a new job, a new house, a new town and a whole new school too. I know nobody here and it's all completely different from back in Melbourne. And I'm coping. Some times it's hard, really hard. and sometimes I am enjoying myself.

I didn't really know what I was in for when I decided to move, so now I'm here, I really do understand why everyone considered my decision to move as bravery.
It was pretty brave and I'm having to be strong everyday to try and overcome the overwhelming feelings of loneliness and homesickness.

I love my course, I love my house. But sometimes I wonder if I should have considered that I love my friends, my family and my old life even more. There are definitely times where I've regretted the decision to move. It's gotten easier with each passing day though!

The one thing I will never get used to, and thank god for that, is the way people speak here. The constant usage of the, I'm not going to say it's a word because that would offend the english language, but the term 'yous' and how most people say 'everythingk' and 'somethingk' - please learn how to talk properly.

Beaten Women Syndrome and Production lines of Emotional Processes

I know it sounds terrible, but it really bothers me when I read, hear or see people with worse lives than me. 
The reason I say this at this point in time is because I just watched a documentary about the exploitation of children in the USA into commercial sex trade i.e prostitution through pimps - called 'Very Young Girls'

As unbelievable as it may seem, there's lots of my life that I haven't actually posted about. Of course, I didn't have a pimp who sold me on the streets, but there's some things that I will probably never post on this blog. However; in context. I look at peoples' lives in documentaries like 'Bully' and books like 'broken' by Shy Keenan and I just can't help but wish I had experienced more than I have. I think, without sounding a certain way in terms of self pity, it's not hard to notice that there have been plenty of things in my life that no one should have to go through let alone a child. But now I'm over it/not in it any more, I kind of want it back. 

I think I feel this way because I wish I had something to justify the way I feel now. What I mean by that, is that sometimes I feel like because I have made it through everything and I have a pretty good life right now, I don't really have a right to complain or a right to feel sad.

Not only do I wish my life was still terrible and/or I could go back to 2007 emotions because I want justification of my feelings, but I also miss that life. The only way I can think of explaining it is the 'beaten woman syndrome' - When woman who are beaten by their husbands/boyfriends still go back to them despite the abuse. I don't know why woman want to go back and I don't know why I want to either. I know it's a ridiculous thing to say, because I seem to have what so many people are looking for; which is a good present life. 

I can't pinpoint why I miss the feelings of depression, why I miss the self harm and suicide idealisations/attempts or why I crave the emotions I experienced back when it was really bad. I feel like the way people treat us on the journey from our most critical, sensitive time as the wounds are fresh and we're just starting our pursuit of happiness to the point where we actually achieve a sense of contentment is similar to that of a production line (and yes, I mean the type in a factory). It's almost as though, once you get to the stage of the journey that I am now seen to be at, no one really cares anymore. In the beginning, when people first meet you at your lowest point, they're there for you, always wanting to help you and talk through your problems with you. Then; once you're happy/'fixed'/better, they leave, going on to the next person/product. But it's like they're not there when the person/product becomes faulty. I know that sounds stupid. Comparing the road to happiness through the support of others to a production line, but in 'long story-short terms', all I'm saying is that people don't care about you once you recover. 

Maybe I wish my life had been worse, or was currently worse because I want the feeling of being loved and cared about by people back. I don't entirely think it can be classified as 'sympathy seeking' but rather missing the treatment people gave me when they knew how awful my life was and how messed up I was from it. Or maybe I just wish my life had been worse, or was currently worse because I'm fucked in the head. 

I look at these children and these teenagers and these women who have their lives spread all over a documentary book/TV show/website and I know their lives are so much worse than mine, whether it be currently or previously and I find it hard to not be repressed back into the feelings of wanting to go back to the critical points in life, where I had to deal with wanting to die everyday and wondering when I can get my next hit or my next experience. 

It's almost like we wan't what we don't have. I'm happy, I want sad. I was sad, I wanted happy. 

Worst Rollercoaster Ever

I'm not usually one to complain; just kidding, I complain all the time but it feels like the past few months have been a mixture of hell and happiness. I usually despise people who, only one month into the year, make a prediction on how the rest of the year is going to be according to how good or bad January has been. However; right now, it's all I seem to be doing. Ever since leaving school, I've been riding one of the most intense and crazy emotional roller coasters possible.
Honestly, even just sitting here trying to work out how to write it makes me emotional because it has been one of the most overwhelming periods of time in a very very long time.

So I finished school about mid November, 2 weeks after turning 18 and getting my drivers license. Quickly left for schoolies in Bali. It was seriously amazing. One of the top ten experiences in my life. Shortly after returning, we received our ATARs, which to put simply, was truly a horrible experience. On Christmas Eve, the car I had been driving was suddenly taken away from me because my older step sister needed a car and as the car was her mums, it was given to her. Then, I went camping over NYE and it was incredible. So much fun, words cannot describe it. After coming home from that and just have a couple of weeks to hang out and see friends, drive up to Sydney with my dad and back, life was looking up. In the meantime, I had found a place in Bundoora to move into, as La Trobe was the university I was sure I was going to get into because the course I had chosen was 10 points under my ATAR. I had also arranged a transfer with work.
Then, uni preferences came out and I got into Deakin which is in Burwood. So I no longer had a place to live or a job to move to.
So, all this happened. This continuance of something going wrong and then me having to make a back up plan and then that going wrong to. In addition to all this, I don't know if anyone has experienced it but having your license, a social life and no car is possibly one of the hardest, most emotionally frustrating things in the world.

Anyway, about two weeks ago, I got kicked out of home because of my rude as fuck step mum always getting her way. Tonight was the first night I had spent with them for my older step brothers birthday since being kicked out. My step brother also got his car today, which he paid for with inheritance (where as I had to work for my money for my car and the only reason I don't have one is because no one is around to help me find one and everyone I've looked at has been awful) and his dad picked the car out for him. Ontop of this, he has had his license for a month less than me, failed 4 times and since having his license, already swerved the car onto the other side of the road on a freeway and crashed a car.
So that really set me off tonight as everybody was 'wow-ing' over his new car and how perfect it was and my step sister driving off in the car that I deserved.

There is so much more to the story but I think this is adequate for now

I don't really know what to say. Sorry I've been slack with posting, it's just been a really intense few months. I just wanted to fill errybody in. So whatever.