A broken nose...

Quick little post mid-day before lunch. It hurts to feel like a nuisance, like a bother, when you only want to help. I am just trying to clean a room, to help things become productive. And I am told to go away. I want to start a girls lacrosse team, and I feel like such an annoyance. But now that I am writing this out, I realize what good training this is. I have to learn the world is very unsupported and for the majority doesn't give a shit about my ideas or my problems. So I must in turn be strong enough to keep trying, keep working to my goal. I cannot give up until I have my nose broken by the door repeatedly getting slammed on my face. Just keep on truckin'.

Internal Nihility

It is early Saturday Morning. I feel empty. A void where a conscience use to reside, nothingness where a heart used to harbor. It is the occurrence of one's soul being removed through the eyes. A moment so often fictional, captured in film by slowing everything around to people. You see the girl you would gladly die for walk past you. Sad, this sounds like an obsession. Devotion must be somewhat...I cannot scribe it correctly. Anyways, I look her straight in the eyes. Why neither of us could say hi, I still do not know. For me, all I could see was her eyes. The entire stadium sincerely vanished.

10 minutes late everything feels cold. Empty. It doesn't make sense. Like that horrible 80's song says, "Owner of a lonely heart, better than a broken heart". Why do I focus on these destructive emotions? This a clear example of heart over mind. I just can't get it out. Can't shake. It just sits there like a tumor. So much to write and rant, and yet who reads this? Line by line? Who are you? Why read my rants of self misery? Why do you care?

Bipolar lesson #1: people with bipolar develop suicidal thoughts when life is at its best.

This is insanity. I can't feel like you. I get accepted to my #1 college, I have two loving parents, great friends, and a future. But I want to die. Or be unconscious. Is there something missing? What is it inside that makes being awake so painful? Is it simply a broken heart magnified to devastating proportions? And if so, who will ever love me without being afraid? I mean, a true relationship were my girlfriend knows who I really am. If you knew me, how could you love me? With all my insecurities and horrible... I can't. Worn out. Hope lost. All from a 17 year old starting his life. How can I keep going on like this? Wishing every day for the easier path.

Bipolar lesson #2: in a twisted, despicable, sick world perspective, you want a terminal illness or a life-ending accident.

Crying to yourself. Sufjan Stevens, sing me to sleep. Who am I? It is cold. What is it that I want? I want to be held. To be held by a girl who knows how wrong my head is and still loves. She accepts my random times of insecurity and thinks I am strong. Please hold me tonight. I just need you to hold me without pitying me. I know this is an unhealthy way to life. But I know no other way.

...from a girl called "Kill"

It's 36 degrees already, and it's September. Had a crazy dream about a girl I met online. Driving in my neighborhood and stopped at this party late at night in my brother's 1960 Chevy Impala. When I got out, I walked around. She got in, unlocked the door, and started the car. I got in, and we drove to some Subway. Very strange.

Song of the day is "Green Day - Blood, Sex and Booze". I am beginning to ponder why I even started this blog. Who will ever devote any time to reading what I have written. Well, I guess I'll write with the intention of it not being entertaining. Feel like hell. Maybe I'll write more later.

Full tank of gas and no wheels

Man, I feel like shit. I haven't been to school in weeks. It all seems so strange and pointless. It doesn't matter how hard I try, I still can't function like those around me. In many ways I don't want to, I guess I just envy the simple stability people take for granted. I am really going to enjoy this blog. It will ever be shared with people? I don't know. I plan to speak what is directly on my mind, which isn't always decent nor is it considerate of people's feelings. I try my best to treat everyone with respect, but my God people make me sick sometimes. They also break my heart. I guess I'll throw it out there. Hell, it's not like she'll ever read it.

There is a girl named Emily. I could not have more respect for a girl. She is so smart and funny. If you met her, you'd like her, even if you didn't know why. We're just close friends. I told her how I felt. We don't talk on the IM, email, or even talk on the phone. We write hand-written letters back and forth. She is the most amazing person. She has always been there for me, and I hope I have done the same for her. For over 2 years, letters back and forth without a problem. I wrote two letters to her; I mean these were strips of my soul in an envelope. And no response. For almost a month. But alas, the twist. She forgot to include the "west" portion in my address. So while I had thought I had lost a friend, the post office didn't know if the letter went to West or East Uintah. Life is like that I suppose.

Time carries on. Wasting another day trying to get busy work done remotely. My head just won't slow don't for things like psychology or economic worksheets. I cannot focus. Maybe it's the Depakote I take, which my doctor so timely told me that "it has been known to knock off 40 IQ points". How can I describe this frustration? Imagine having so many places to go during the day. Your car is in working condition, and has a full tank of gas. Keys are in the ignition, you know what you have to do, where you have to go. But the car has no tires, no wheels. So you sit there. You can try pushing the car, but you can see how far that will get you. Somedays, you have wheels but no brakes. But days like these, you have no wheels.

I spend too much time in front of the computer. But I think it's because it is the only device which matches my emotional state. If I am manic, I have 10 different applications running with 30+ windows. When I am depressed I just stare at the screen, and it patiently waits. It does not judge productivity. I hate the cave I am in. I wish I had a tablet with wi-fi, so I could just go wherever and blog. Time to go bowling. Yes, bowling is a physical education credit at CHS.

Inaugural Post

Well, here I begin. My first post in my blog. To those who don't know me, we'll keep it that way. I'll just state that I am diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I have a warped sense of reality, and now everyone can enjoy the insanity which is my mind. I am a 17-year-old male. I am depressed right now. I hope not to turn this into a complete bitch fest. Yes, there will be profanity. Hell, I can't think. Not going to blog when there isn't anything to blog about. Good night.

Weak, heavy, and dead.

Dead. Heavy and dead. Like that calm moment while you’re drowning and you finally quit fighting the water coming into your lungs. Weak, heavy, and dead.

Insomnia has come again, the monster I cannot escape. So tired and as always the sleep I yearn for will not come. I have two tests tomorrow. I am fucked. I haven’t studied for psychology, or economics. My eyes are watering….sleep. Sweet, sweet unconsciousness. Why don’t you visit me? I feel like shit. Tired, lonely, and plain old shit. I never expected my senior year to go completely smooth, but to already feel like this. I love a girl who a) is too busy for guys and b) couldn’t give a rat’s ass how I feel about her. I can’t work.