Welcome to Wonderland

     I want to go somewhere no one will find me, and I will never return from. My own personal sanctuary from this hell I’m living in.  I’ve had so many dreams and goals.  I’ve worked my butt off every second, and the work still fails me.  They’ve all all turned to dust because of life.  Life sucks.  Happiness is just an illusion created by the ringmasters of the universe that toy with us because they have nothing better to do.  That’s all this is.  An intense nightmare that will be over before we ultimately learn why we are here in the first place.  It is all a maze that we can’t escape from because there is only one exit.  That’s the exit branded with “weak” “quitter”.  Who wants to leave this hell on earth with memories of those stamped on their file?  Maybe I’m speaking in tongues, but all those metaphors and internal meanings about life and death and conformity seem like they weren’t good for anything.  I am in school to learn.  But I’m tested every single day and have to complete bogus assignments about stuff I don’t care about and won’t need.  Is this life?  Oh, right, you have to give a little to get a little?  Okay, let’s say I finish high school?  I go into college probably.  That’s four more years of torture, unless I want to go into another school?  Hey, why not med or law school, right?  After these 7 or 9 or however many years are wasted doing more stuff and stressing and pulling out my hair and not sleeping until I pass out or get dizzy, I go to work.  Work.  That doesn’t sound like life.  Okay, so I should fit life into the space between 9 and 5?  Well 8 of those hours are supposed to be sleep.  Don’t worry, there’s a route for everyone they say.  Okay, I skip the college because it’s not like I didn’t develop a mental illness from the stress I put on myself to be perfect in high school.  Now I can go into an uncertain job field working longer hours for less pay.  That sounds a whole lot like life.  Because life isn’t “live, laugh, love”.  It’s “work, work, work, cry, die”.  On my death bed I will be saying “don’t work yourself so hard.  It’s not worth anything if you don’t love what you do.”.  As if everyone can get into a job they like doing, if they’re even good at it.  Because I would love to be an actress, but unfortunately Santa didn’t give me that.  

     You know what this sounds like, a whole lot of complaining.  This is true.  Because it is.  I am just tired really.  I am tired of living.  And life doesn’t freaking stop so this is my break.  I can’t go and enjoy life because I know I have to be back working in five minutes.  It’s like this all the time.  I have to take time from sleeping just to try and work off my anger and sadness, and mostly pain.  I feel pain.  Not really for myself.  I feel pain for my family.  They live with a hermit that hides in the cave all day.  When I come out I will bite off the hand that feeds me and snap when they say “Good morning”.  I feel sadness because I can’t be their little girl anymore.  I can’t talk to the ants on the sidewalk and bring home injured animals to mom.  I can’t ask for them to tuck me in at night, because I’m up way longer than they are.  I can’t ask them to watch me to grow up because they only get in the way (at least that’s what I’m always telling them).  Most of all, they’re growing older.  I want this to be over before they are.  I know they aren’t around forever and I know when I’m out of school I won’t be living with them and they will get “empty nest syndrome” or whatever.  Then I’ll be the adult that does my own grocery shopping and visits for holidays, but I won’t see them.  I don’t see them much now, but I really wish I could make it worth it.  What’s wrong when I don’t have enough time to spend with my family?  What’s happened?

     I’m depressed.  Maybe that wasn’t obvious, but I want to die.  I want to drop out of school and change my name.  I want to dye my hair pink and get tattoos.  I want to just be a teenager.  I haven’t been able to do enough reckless things, I’m so tired of being the responsible one.  I want to be a kid again.  Things were so simple then.  I want to do that again. My natural intelligence has reached it’s limit and I am now only succeeding in school because of favoritism and working throughout the night on a regular day’s homework and studying.  What’s happened to me?  Where did the little blonde girl who didn’t brush her hair until you had to cut it out and talk to the bushes and trees and think she could communicate with animals go?  The one who felt bad for a pencil if she didn’t use it as much as the others, and caught a kickball in the stomach?  Even the one that was put in a straight jacket?  The one who knew who she was and what she wanted.  The one that could make it happen.  The one that really didn’t care.  

     I just don’t understand… what happened to the magical universe that existed when I was a kid?

It’s Time to Stop Thinking and Just Live

     I’m so nervous and particular about everything I do.  Because I don’t think playing chicken and skipping class is smart or practical or going to be useful later in life.  Sometimes, I get really depressed.  Aggravated.  Confused.  Because I’m really just growing older and older.  It’s like being a middle-aged woman stuck in a teenager’s body.  Sure, I have so many opportunities, but how am I going to run into the truly great ones when I’m cramped up studying inside all day?  I’m not.. so maybe I should just let loose and party every once in awhile.  I’ll still try hard and do my homework, but I’m not gonna ace every test..  I shouldn’t have to kill myself to do well.  I can make mistakes in life, and it will all be okay.  I’ll be happier and healthier, and well… more alive.