stitched and scarred

i am so over this! i hav run my self ragged trying to escape from my past. by no means am i at all ashamed of anything i have been through. i am very proud of the scars i bear, very happy tragedy has not stripped me of joy, but i am tired, so tired. i hav lost some hope in ever being soundly happy. and even now, when things are good, im pretty sure something will come to rock it all. call me pessimistic but i try not to expect too much from this world or from the people in this world. im probably actually an optimist, masquerading as realist because life has me pessimistic...

i am constantly trying to please everybody. my brothers failed so now im destined to succeed. im daddy's lil girl but he worries me to death. if something happens to him, ill never forgive myself. i bend over backwards to make him proud. i am my mother's pride and joy. she can have whatever she likes. do not assume im spoiled, i bust my ass for everything i have. the weight is unbearable but i seem to be unbreakable...an odd combination im straining under the pressure only to flex my strength, the strength i never knew i had. i wake up some days staring at the walls after having stared at the inside of my eyelids and realize i might have never been to sleep...

i went this morning to a plastic surgeon to have a scar removed from my lip. and it seems like as soon as you think youve healed, youre ripped apart, to pieces again. there is medicine for every ailment, surgery for any flaw, and therapy for peace of mind. but nothing can heal pride and no one can change the past. trust, once lost is lost forever. people, once scarred are scarred forever.

crying. she rubbed my back and told me these (tears) are the prayers we cnt find the words for...if thats true, ive written a book. if it was written in blood, i'd have volumes. i am sick and tired of being sick and tired. no more blood, please, no more blood. no more tears, im begging, no more tears.

i told him i like to fly by the seat of my pants, carefree, spontaneous. only because planning never works. expectations always fail. tomorrow isnt promised i live for the moments, the moments become your life. ask aleesa, we've had more fun when we came in expecting nothing, receiving everything.

i want to be whole. and im not exactly sure if thats even the right word for what im feeling. this is one of those times when i feel like a plastic bag in the wind. blown about looking for something to get a hold of, something to hold on to me.

(sad face)

-this blog is becoming extremely depressing...sorry. im ok. im just feeling alot of things at once.