hiya.

well hey. sorry i didn't blog yesterday, and i apologize in advance for the awful grammar and stuff but i'm kinda too lazy to correct it and i'm on my laptop so there's no auto correct. right now i'm watching a movie called Fingerprints. it's an awesome movie. yesterday i was tanning and i'm working on a tantoo of a dragonfly.and yesterday i got a sunburn on my back, stomach, shoulders, and a little bit on my face. AND GUESS WHAT. I'M SINGLE FINALLY. god. my boyfriend used to lie to me all the time by saying "i broke my ankle." or anything having to do with breaking a bone. it was so annoying. i broke up with him and he went off on me and called me a whore. "I don't think even Janelle is as big of a whore as you are have a hell hole life" his words. and Janelle is my EX best friend. i gave up on her because at first, she got a boyfriend that is her ex's brother, and she asked out a dude named Michael while still dating him. she cheated on him about 6 times. and another reason is that when I was dating Carson, the guy who called me a whore, she thought it would be a good idea to kiss him. and another reason is that before me and Carson broke up, she started dating him, thinking i wouldn't find out. but my best friend Brianna told me that Janelle told her not to tell me, but she did anyways because she's a good friend, unlike Janelle. in fifth grade, is when i met Janelle. she came to our school at the beginning of the year and we immediately became best friends. she wasn't ever trying to get every guys attention, we just lived life to the fullest, and i honestly miss those days. whenever i think about them i want to cry. i miss the old Janelle. i wish she didn't change... i admit, i changed too, but not much. i used to not care what other people thought, and now that's all i depend on. the thoughts of judgmental douche bags who don't know what the hell they are saying and how what they say affects us. they don't know what else we have to deal with or how we deal with all of it put together. some of us cut because it makes us feel better or it just makes us feel alive. most of us don't cut because we want to die. its because we want to feel alive, and see the blood come out from our skin. it's relief of all that other crap that's going on. and you guys who have the same problem know what i mean. and you know what? most of the things people say seem like i'm not affected by them but i really am. the sky is your limit, but the galaxy is ours. i love you guys:) this was a really random post, but ya know. i guess it's helpful :)

When you go into the ER, one of the first things they ask you to do is rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, and from there they decide which drugs to use and how quickly to use them. I'd been asked this question hundreds of times over the years, and I remember once early on when I couldn't get my breath and it felt like my chest was of fire, flames licking the inside of my ribs fighting for a way to burn out of my body, my parents took me to the ER. The nurse asked me about the pain, and I couldn't even speak, so I held up nine fingers.


Later, after they'd given me something, the nurse came in and she was kind of stroking my head while she took my blood pressure and said, "you know how I know you're a fighter? You called a ten a nine."


But that wasn't quite right. I called it a nine because I was saving my ten. And here it was, the great and terrible ten, slamming me again and again as I lay still and alone in my bed staring at the ceiling, the waves tossing me against rocks then pulling me back out to sea so they can launch me again into the jagged face of a cliff, leaving me floating face up on the water, undrowned.