living life

this feels like the part right before the movie cuts to black.

[justmyheadspace]

How do I bring back a dead man?

People have no idea how much it sucks to be in this club when you had such a loving father. It's been 4 years, and I don't know what he looks like anymore. I don't remember how he smells, I don't remember his voice, and I don't remember how he acts.

My teacher joked about it. I didn't like that one bit. I laughed at it, exaggerated my hurt for it, and shrugged it off. But that stupid joke that came out of his mouth was so hurtful; he has no idea what sting that left in my dying heart. He should've known better. Just because I'm a joyful girl doesn't mean that you can just throw whatever bullcrap you want at me, and expect me to take it with giggles.

I can't believe I still haven't moved on. I thought I already did, it's been a month or two since I cried about him. And when I think about it, it doesn't hurt as much as it used to. I saw his old friend's recent post today. He was congratulating his daughter for an academic award, and I suddenly spiralled back down from where I had just come from. I hated the photo so much. It was so sweet and soft; he and his daughter were hugging each other. It made me angry because I haven't been hugged in a long time, so long that I don't even know what it feels like anymore. I want his hug and no one else's, so I'll forever wonder what a hug feels like.

[justmyheadspace]

People loved right, don't question love.

[justmyheadspace]

I Will Never Call You Mom

I can't wrap my mind around the cruelty of your heart. I can put you up against the worst people in history because you were practically murdering me every time I healed throughout my entire life. You killed every version I had of me, and now I'm as heartless as you.

I had a future. I was kind. I was smart. I had choices.

You kept dragging me down with you because you were afraid to be alone with your own mistakes and regrets.

I will never call you "mom."

You will always be my mother. A title on my birth certificate. A role in my school's documents. But you will never be my mom.

I never call for you when I'm hurt. I don't cry out to you when I'm confused and overwhelmed. I have never and never will call for you.

You are not my mom. I have no mom.

You couldn't even stand up as a father when dad died. You lost your husband, but I lost my dad, too. I blame everything on your mom for not loving you right, for the way she forgot about you and favoured your brother instead. You should've broken the cycle; you already know how it feels to have a hateful mother.

I hope you know that you're going to regret everything you're doing to me, because when dad was here, my biggest dream used to be to become a doctor; now it's to move out of this house and away from you.

I am not your child, you are not my mom.

[justmyheadspace]

Teacher

I need to get this off my chest because this teacher truly has a deep rooted hatred for me. I transferred schools 7 months go for my last year in high school, and I’m quite loud I’ll admit but I don’t think it’s that bad that I should be inapplicable to graduate because of it.

I’m not rude, I try to be polite as best as I can, but I’m just very energetic around my friends. And I know for a fact that the boys in my class are 10x worse than me by liveliness, and I don’t think that’s bad; we’re a small class and we feel at home with each other.

Our class has been the biggest trouble this school year so far, we’ve been at the guidance office more than I can count and it was always for different things. And yes, I am always included. Genuinely though, it’s almost always because of roughhousing with my friends.

So the guidance counsellor—this teacher.

I think she thinks that I’m the reason why this lovely, good, raised by this school children and classroom, is acting like this because of me. I’m thinking that sometimes too, but I’m not that bonded with my friends so I can’t say that for sure.

Her hatred for me must be so deeply rooted within her bloody soul to the point I’m certain that she prays for my downfall. She glares at me every single day, not look or glance, a full on glare. Her eyes are wide like she’s reprimanding me for existing and her brows are furrowed.

We had a recollection yesterday and we had to walk all the way from school to the destination for a good one hour because it was a way to “reflect.” We had one partner for half the trip then you have to be by yourself after (no talking, just reflecting). Obviously, our legs hurt and we were all just leaning against each other. And I don’t think you can reflect well when vehicles are going past you on your left and the dirty river water scent was flowing to your right.

When we got to our destination, she was reprimanding us that we weren’t “reflecting” and some students were bothering other students and caused them to “not reflect.” She said that while looking at me dead in the eyes with that same glare she always looks at me with. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. She wanted me to know that whatever she was saying was for me. And I wasn’t even included in the walk for the last 5 minutes because I had to ride with the nurse since I had a fever.

But, of course, with her precious other students who were raised by the school, the “transition people,” the ones who snitched every time something happened and had the whole class involved so everyone doesn’t graduate but them, she was so sweet and lovely—smiling, gentle, caring, mother-like. Oh, but not me, not the transferee. She wants me out of this school.

I don’t know what I did to be honest, some of our classmates are much worse but she’s targeting me. She handles mental health stuff as well for the students (and she seems so understanding with them but us), being the guidance counsellor and all. She even said it herself, “The people who smile, might be hurting. And the people who don’t, might not be hurting.” So I’m genuinely surprised she’s throwing me with such devotion and determination into the fire with no regard of whether I have my own problems or not. Which I do have. A lot of it.

Cheers, ma’am. You’re guiding students and healing the world.

[justmyheadspace]

Beautiful Boy

I just listened to John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy" and had some realisations. Close your eyes Have no fear The monster's gone He's on the run, and your daddy's here Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Beautiful boy Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Beautiful boy I'm a daughter, but this song really hit hard since I'm still trying to grieve the death of my dad after 4 years. I have severe sleep paralysis and sleep anxiety; I cannot sleep alone, even if the lights are on or someone is sleeping across the room. I need to have someone next to me. We always used to sleep together, but after he died, I was forced to sleep on my own for a while. And for the first 2 years, I slept every day at 7 AM because the voices scared me so much. I'm starting to get used to them; they've dulled ever since my sister and I started sleeping together. The song made me notice that maybe I was getting sleep paralysis because my dad and I never sleep next to each other anymore. The "monsters" were out to get me because my daddy isn't here to make them run away. And I guess that sort of hit the feels because I close my eyes, I'm still scared, and the monster's still there.

[justmyheadspace]

two sides of one coin

—

I don’t see enough people talk about how hard it is to find who you “really are.”

I recently moved to a new school which meant meeting new people and getting a new environment. It wasn’t hard to fit in, at least for me; I’m a really outgoing and friendly person depending on the people surrounding me. For this class in particular, it was easy to get along with them.

I like my class. We have ups and downs, and we’ve had plenty of times where we almost went at each other’s throats but it’s the best class I’ve been in out of all my years at different schools.

Although, my personality changes with them. I try to “adapt” to their humour or vibe, and I end up becoming this completely different person who’s just loud and energetic. Yet when I come home, I’m just a quiet and tired girl.

And I’m struggling to shift between this loud person and the quiet one, because who really am I? I genuinely don’t like it when I’m loud and energetic, it makes me feel uncomfortable—like someone’s controlling my body and I’m watching through a window. I think it’s the way people look at me like I’m someone who goes overboard all the time, and “you should distance yourself from her because she attracts negativity from how she acts.” Even my mum doesn’t let me forget that no man will ever love me if I keep acting like this. It’s not pretty or graceful for a woman to act like me.

And I’ve gotten in trouble a lot of times already in the span of 5 months for being too loud at school. I’m on my last warning before I get a technical suspension, and if I get another one after that, I could potentially not be applicable for graduation. I’m not rude, I don’t think so, but I’m really hyper. I talk fast, I stray from topic to topic, I make a lot of jokes, and I try to be friendly with everyone. But from my past experiences in the guidance office, that doesn’t see to be going well.

And when I’m quiet, people think there’s something wrong, so I’m obligated to go back to my other loud self because they won’t stop prodding until I do.

So… which one am I?

Am I this loud girl who keeps trying to get along with everyone but people just can’t seem to like her or a quiet girl who tries to shower quickly so she can have time to sit on the bathroom floor and cry for an hour?

[justmyheadspace]

Happiness and Money

Whoever said, "Money doesn't buy happiness," is wrong. There are a lot of things I can name that money can buy and make us happy.

If I had enough money, I'd put my sister and myself in a good school.

If I had enough money, I'd put myself in therapy and fix whatever's happening with me.

If I had enough money, I could treat my sick cat.

If I had enough money, I could make my mom love me.

If I had enough money, I could hire my own dad.

If I had enough money, I wouldn't be sitting here and crying out my problems on the internet, because I have no one else to tell them to.

If I just had enough money.

A lot of things could have gone differently if we had enough money, so, yeah, money can buy happiness.

[justmyheadspace]

Life and the Future

It's pretty crazy that a few years ago, I was a little kid who had no idea what life was going to be like. I weirdly always fantasised about those people who were already in college or when they'd mention college life, and now I'm in my last year of high school. I'm scared to fail my entrance exams, and I'd cut my legs off for a scholarship.

I've got everything planned out, if I do pass the schools I want to attend. Most of the money I'll earn (in fact, maybe 90% of it) will go to my family, my sister's education, and my mum.

And to be honest, it's really tough to have no one support you emotionally. I lost my dad a few years back, and my mum isn't the most caring person in the world. I've been patting my own back for a while now. The big achievements I make don't seem so special anymore, and I don't know if that's because I'm going numb or I'm "maturing."

I don't know what I really want, but I'm picturing a pretty sad life in the future. I don't even know if I should get married; it's hard to believe love is real anymore.