"Life is too short to wake up with regrets.
So love the people that treat you right, forget the ones that don't and believe that everything happens for a reason.
If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said it would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it."
-- Ginny Marko <3
You always said that everything happens for a reason. I've been looking for that reason for the past 2 days and I cannot find one that is good enough to explain why you were taken off this earth. I guess God needed 3 of his angels back. I know you're up there looking down on all of us, smiling, like always. You were and still are the most beautiful person, inside and out. You changed so many people's lives without even realizing it. We weren't extremely close but does this ever hurt. I breakdown everytime I think about you. Life isn't fair, and I don't understand why the good people die young. Your in our hearts, our minds, and our souls. You may be gone but you will never be forgotten. <3 Rip Ginny, Brad and Chris
The stress of trying to live up to parents, siblings, and media expectations can be a lot for someone to handle. So when there are situations thrown into the mix, it can in turn suffocate you. This is how I feel almost everyday. I feel as though I will never amount to the expectation of my mother. When she herself was my age the expectations of her were very high, and with that in mind I would have thought that she would have been easier on me. Unfortunately, that was not the case. My father wasn’t in my life much and just recently I have given him the opportunity to return and take his place as my father. Unfortunately I don’t think that he has the ability to step up to the plate. I know everyone has their problems and whether they voice them aloud is their decision. This past week it feels as though I have went to hell and back again. I received a phone call Sunday morning from my sister. I was then told that my cousin’s son was not my cousin at all. When in reality he was really my brother. She admitted that my dad was the father of her son, and while I was mortified at the thought, I was also extremely hurt. This was only the beginning of my worries. Late Monday night, I received a call from my cousin and explained to me that my father was threatening to commit suicide. Of course I rushed to his house to try to talk him out of it. While i was mad at him, and as I told him later, that no matter how much I wanted to hate him I just possibly couldn’t. No one, not myself, my mom, or God could change the fact that he was still my dad. We talked for a few hours, and while we talked I just felt more hurt. He told me that there was no point in living because no one would care. Unfortunately this thought would stick with me for a while. On Wednesday night I got a call from my mom. She explained to me that she was putting my dog down, because he had been having seizures all day. As much as I understood why she had to do this, what I didn’t and still don’t understand is the fact that she decided to make the appointment for the next morning. At 10am. When she knew I worked at 9am and that it was not possible to switch shifts this late. After all this happened in just 4 short days my mind, and body, physical and mental just felt drained. I felt empty. That nothing matter. As a result of this I needed to do something to make me feel alive. Regrettably I made a bad decision. I dragged the glass across my wrist. Now this isn’t something I do often per se, but when the going gets tough it feels as though it’s the only thing I can do. I don’t know why I do it, it could be the pain/pleasure, seeing the blood that courses through my veins, it could be for some deeper rooted meaning, or it could be a cry for help that I just can’t voice. It could be all of the reasons.
Who really knows? Cause I don't.
I have just came to realize some amazing things. After reading many stories and looking at pictures that people have posted on this site, it's occured to me how amazing all the survivors really are. I mean I know I can't speak for everyone on here but speaking for myself, I think it's incredible how well we can put on a face of courage. I mean terrible things have happened to us and we have the ability to put on a strong face and continue with our lives. Sometimes this can be a bad thing I mean we somehow sometime need to face and deal with what has happened but we have the incredible strength to continue to live and be happy even if it's just for a while. I know that probably a lot of people wake up some mornings and don't want to get out of bed, but in the end we put on a strong face and prove to people that we can deal with this and we can continue on living. Sometimes this can only go on for so long, this well mask if you will can only last for a while until in the end we have to talk about what happened or just cry our eyes out. Lots of people have someone they can turn to, but there are many out there who don't have anyone and this site has helped tremendously in that way. Before I could talk to anyone seriously about what happened to me without just brushing it off and telling the person to forget about it, there was always PWP. There is always someone on this site willing to listen and in many cases can even help you in one way or another. The support that you can find on PWP is just amazing, not only are there supporters but there are also other survivors. You can even find a survivor with a story similar to yours and its quite possibly that in one way you can help them or they can help you.
Anyways thanks for reading about my little rant. Just amazes me how much support there is out there for people who need some.
Another poem that just popped randomly in my head during math. enjoy.
Don't try to understand my mind,
It is truly one of a kind.
Sometimes theres happiness and sometimes fear
Mostly anger when those thoughts come near.
You cant describe it, there are no words
that you could think of of have heard.
All i really want is for someone to save me
And help me change back to who I used to be.
I'm not sure what inspired this exactly. I guess it's just my constant feeling of lonliness. It doesn't matter if I'm with people I always feel alone in some way. Maybe you can relate maybe you can't. There are two poems I guess but they both have the same topic : Alone. enjoy.
Alone is the wind that flows through the trees.
Alone is the water that runs through the seas.
Alone is the feeling that runs through my mind.
Alone is the despair that I seem to find.
You left me alone
all by myself
I gave you my heart
but you wanted someone else.
The damage has been done
I can feel it inside
I try to run away
but there's nowhere to hide.
All alone I sit and cry
wishing to God he would just let me die.
If he won't help me out
Ill just have to do it myself.
Random thoughts that kind of got pushed together I guess. enjoy.
I wish I may,
I wish I might.
taken by my will,
and I will commit.
On and on the days go by,
and these drugs still keep me high,
will they ever make me numb?
It doesnt matter if you think its dumb.
This is the only way,
that I can escape,
this is my true form,
my real shape.
But this is the end,
my time is near,
and ill leave numb,
and with no fear.
Another poem typed thing I just wrote. enjoy <3.
I drag the blade across my skin
I feel the pull and the blood begins to fall
I cant stop myself because Ive been taken over
The pain has been released
but this is only a temporary solution
to whats killing me deep inside
Until Im taken over again
I curl up and cry myself to sleep
not wanting to think about anything
just the feeling of being numb.
Well I've decided that I'm pretty stupid and I probably won't remember anything that I did tonight. I'm really struggling with what happened, mixed with whats going on in my life now. Sometimes I feel I just need to feel...well numb. I just don't want to feel anything. I decided tonight that I would feel numb. I took 4 T3's and 2 muscle relaxants and I can't feel much right now. I know that cutting is stupid and I used to do it sometimes to feel a release I guess. Well I took my scissors and pulled it across my skin a few times. Seeing the blood just makes me realize Im still alive and it releases my pain. Like I said I will probably wake up in the morning and wonder what the hell I did to myself but I felt like I needed to vent and tell someone, or just write it down even if no one reads this I know I got my feelings out.
This is a poem I guess that I wrote a little while ago. It was just how I feel sometimes. I hope you like it. enjoy <3.
I need you to save me from myself,
save me from this emptiness I feel inside,
when will i feel whole again?
All I feel is the darkness take hold of me again,
its calling out for me,
and I just want to fill this lonliness.
Self destructive ways,
each and every day,
but in the end I wont be okay.
My story starts 8 years ago. I was 10 years old, young, innocent and full of life. Unfortunately this was taken from me by someone I trusted. My grandmother's husband who I was close to took advantage of this trust. He mollested me for 3 years in my grandmother's house. I felt like I couldn't trust anyone nor could I tell them. I was alone. I started rebelling against my parents and they thought it was because I had become a teenager. If only that was the reason. He died from lung cancer when I was 13. Going to his funeral was horrible I wanted to scream my lungs out and tell everyone who was crying for him what he had done to me. The only reason I cried was because no one knew what had happened. I didn't tell anyone for 5 years after the initial act. After I had turned 15 I told my best friend. My worst dreams were made a reality. She didn't believe me. I cried myself to sleep almost every night after that. I finally told her everything that had happened and after I broke down crying, she believed me. I was still hurt that my best friend of 8 years hadn't believed me when I first told her. The only reason why I hadn't told my parents or my grandmother were for the same hurtful reason. The possibility that they wouldn't believe me. In my head I knew they would and that I wouldn't make such a horrible thing up, but a voice in the back of my head was telling me not to. It wasn't until I was 17 that I accidently told my mom. We got in a huge fight and I ended up screaming it at her. Unfortunately she just looked at me and told me I was lying for attention. At that very moment I thought I was going to die. My absolute worst fear in the world was my reality. I ran out of the house with tears running down my face as I ran straight to my best friends house. She asked me what happened and I told her. I knew I had to call my grandma before my mom did. It was my responsibility to tell her. Over the phone I cried until I actually told her. Again my heart was shattered as she was told that the love of her life did this to her own granddaughter. After that horrible phone call my grandma and I got in arguments about the fact that it was my decision what I would tell her about what happened. We didn't talk for almost 10 months after that. I had moved out of my mother's house because I was heart broken. She realized later that I wasn't lying and after talking to my sister who confirmed that it was the truth my mom begged me to come back home. I told her that I was staying at my best friend's because she didn't realize how badly she hurt me. I stayed at my best friend's for two months. I finally went back home.
To this day I'm still heart broken that she hadn't believed me.