A Personal Diary That No One Will Read

I lost myself a few years ago. I wonder if I left part of her here. Stay a while and find out. 

[mala-smierc]

July 1st, 2019

I met a boy who seems too good to be true.

How do I stop being so afraid?

[mala-smierc]

Feb. 13, 2019

Showering with someone - and I don’t mean shower sex - just simply showering with someone else and feeling their body under the water, lathering soap on their skin and combing my fingers through their hair is probably one of my top five favourite things to do. 

Ah, it must be that time of year.

[mala-smierc]

Jan. 31, 2019.

Why do I feel like I don’t deserve to get better?

I’m never going to make it. 

[mala-smierc]

Jan. 29th, 2019. Part 2.

How does one overcome the feeling that everyone is lying to her. 

People tell me that when I’m feeling bad, to go to others. Seek out my friends to get them to help me out. 

But that’s not their job. I shouldn’t have to. 

I can’t get over feeling like the only reason people give me compliments is because they want to shut me up, already. 

“maybe Amy will stop being such a fucking downer if we tell her that her art is good. Hopefully she’ll believe us and start smiling again”

I see right through you. 

[mala-smierc]

Jan. 29th, 2019.

It’s 01/29/2019. The same numbers, just swapped around. Fascinating.

But let’s dive right into today’s rant. 

I don’t know how to trust people. No - I don’t know how to trust myself. No - I trust both myself and other people, but I don’t trust intentions. 

No, I don’t trust anything at all. 

How do you know when to believe someone? When they’re telling the truth? But what if it isn’t true? How can you check? But what if it’s true for them, so they’re telling the truth, but it’s a lie to you, so you know they’re lying? But they think they’re telling the truth? 

What’s true for one person may be a lie to another. So who do you believe? Life is so incredibly complicated and vast with all kinds of different emotions and ways to express them...and ways to hide them. 

The root of my problem begins with believing a lie. But at the time it was a truth.  “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen” or some variation. And I believed it. How could I not? I had known this person for a bit, and they usually hated everyone single human they met. But not me. 

Then, months later, they cheated. But I was so naive. They fessed up to the act, and because of their ability to admit the truth of their actions, I believe them, and fell more in love. Because, hey, they told me the truth, never mind the fact they cheated. 

No, I was not, and probably never was, the most beautiful thing they had seen. 

2 months later: I’m seeing the funniest guy in high school. He confesses to me that he’s incredibly excited to have this chance because I was the one everyone wanted to be with in high school (apparently. I was too lost in my head and my sadness to notice). He wanted to make me happier. He wanted to help. 

He broke up with me a month into our relationship because I was “too sad for him” and he “wasn’t ready for the commitment it would take to date a mentally ill girl”. 

I didn’t realize being sad about being mistreated in a previous relationship meant I was now Mentally Ill. Capitals. 

Is it me? Am I the problem? 

Everyone tells me that Cheating Boy had his own problems, obviously. Nothing I could have done would have prevented him from cheating. It was not my fault

Same with Mental Boy. (haha). He has his own issues, it was not my fault. 

Or was it? 

As I grow up, I learn things about humans. They’re mean, and deceitful, manipulative and crude. I want so badly to go back to a childhood innocence of thinking people are good, and they won’t lie. But I have no personal experience to the contrary. Everyone lies. Especially to me. 

I don’t know how to explain that because of these things, I just don’t believe anyone anymore. I can’t believe anyone because of the fact they’re capable of lying. Even if they don’t, just the fact I know they can sends me into a spiral of anxiety about how do I know when they’re lying vs. telling the truth. I can’t just “trust you” because every person who has told me to do that in the past has been untrustworthy in the end. 

It’s not you, it’s me. And that's root of the problem #2. 

[mala-smierc]

Interesting Issues: #1

I see every person, every life as a story. Everyone is living in their own book that they’re writing themselves and everyone is a main character to their own life/story. 

When you watch inspiring films, or read inspiring novels, I’d assume most people would picture themselves as the main character and thus fantasize and day dream about what if THEY were in that position rather than the lead. 

Like I’m sure most people would sit and watch Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse and daydream about being a Miles Morales-like character in their own alternate universe and being the hero etc. 

I cannot. I see Into the Spiderverse and think “man, it would be cool to be Miles, but in this story (life) I am more like his roommate, just a supporting role, in the background. Nothing special ever happens to me, I don't get the most screen time, it’s not about me.”

In. my. own. life.

I make my mom teas all the time. When I’m getting one ready for myself, I’ll make her one too and bring it right to her. It’s the least I can do, and I enjoy doing it.

But if someone ever were to do that for me? Oh heck no, it’s not their job to go out of their way to do nice things for me. No-no. It actually makes me really uncomfortable. I’m just the background character.

It’s not anyone’s responsibility to help me or do things for me. 

But you bet it’s 100% my job to make sure I do little things for everyone so they can have a bit of a brighter day, hopefully.

Someone else is supposed to be the main character in my life, and I am just the supporting role that helps them.  

[mala-smierc]

Dec. 31st. 2018

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Amy. I’m also the artist, Amellune. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I am certain of, myself. 

I can’t pinpoint exactly what my problem is - but I know I have one. I push all my friends away, and constantly bully myself for being a terrible person that no one would even want to be friends with. I feel disconnected, cut off, and unwelcome in this world.

Why?

I couldn’t tell you. 

I’m angry. Always. I’m offended and take things far too personally. My guard is constantly up. I can’t think of one good thing about myself to tell new friends. I can’t even think of one good thing to remind myself when I’m feeling low. I am just riddled with flaws. And I KNOW no one wants to be around that.

But I crave belonging. I crave being loved. I crave being cared about - and cared for. I crave caring for someone, and loving with my whole heart.

I’m not angry, I’m sad. I’m not strong and independent, I’m weak and kidding no one. 

I’m scared. 

I’ve been mistreated and bullied and hated on and stalked and I have been so incredibly silent because I feel like I’m not allowed to complain or be sad or angry about any of it because other people have it so much worse. Or they went through the same things and are fine. Therefore I, too, have to be fine. 

But I’m not. And that mindset has created a monster within me that I can no longer contain. 

I’m setting her free. 

This year, 2019, I am sharing my thoughts, open to the public. I can’t draw them, I’m not good enough. But, I can write.

[mala-smierc]

A cute little poem I wrote in one of my classes:

One day I ran too far away

so that I would not have to stay

you chased me and when I was found

you kept me safe, you kept me sound

[mala-smierc]

I don't have colourful candies

or medications to make me less stressed

During the day I am real

but in the hours at night

I forget how to feel

I have never been diagnosed with a mental illness

but when I think about life

it makes me want to think less

"Death is an adventure!" or so they say

But in all honestly,

I do look forward to finding out one day

It demands to be felt, this little depression

but I try to ignore it

my personal obsession

Because I figure, life is too precious to be so depressed

I'm like a walking paradox,

can't help but feel blessed. 

[mala-smierc]

words of love and words of loss

who knew words came at such a cost?

we all must feel some sort of pain

to make us say what we want to say

a.s.

[mala-smierc]

The Fear

As children of imagination

nothing could scare you

for you lived in your mind

the fear a physical being

like the monsters under your bed

or under your stairs

a fear your mother could cure

with a hug and a kiss

As adults of reality

nothing could scare you

for you lived in today

but the fear became a mental being

the monsters moved from under the bed

to inside our heads

a deafening fear that only death

can cure

a.s.

[mala-smierc]

"My story isn't pleasant, it's not sweet and harmonious like the invented stories; it tastes of folly and bewilderment, or madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves"

- Hermann Hesse, Demian

[mala-smierc]

What is the meaning? Am I a waste?

this life is not our own

a bigger picture that cannot be seen

there is no passion, there is no hope;

This life is not our own

how hard is it to be lost?

with no passion, with no hope

what is my purpose here?

It's hard to be lost

but I don't know where I'm supposed to be

What is my purpose here?

this life does not seem real;

Where am I supposed to be?

I pray I'll find the answer

when this life starts to feel real

and less like a misguided dream;

I pray I'll find the answer to

what is the meaning? and am I a waste?

for acceptance in a misguided dream

is the bigger picture that cannot be seen

a.s.

[mala-smierc]

Poetry

The problem with poetry

is you have to feel something

to write something

so how can I write something beautiful

when I feel

nothing at all

a.s.

[mala-smierc]

Goodbye (a response to "Hello" by Charles Bukowski)

sometimes everything gets too much

and you are alone with your thoughts

feeding off

the interior of your mind

and the inescapable

is washed down with a bottle of liquor --

your last friend, your last lover

sometimes a little light

clears the fog

and a little water

clears the headache

to that old friend, that old lover

it's time to say 

goodbye

and move forward

a.s.

[mala-smierc]

To The Abyss

In the company of shade

of secret and intrigue

laughing ladies

and malicious men

curl tendril fingers

in our direction

In the company of shade

we throw our lives away

to the abyss

In this company

our words are silky and our

laughter

dark

We have nothing to lose

but our sanity

Dance with us

we are now

almost

the black of night

a.s.