I Feel

I feel somewhat betrayed?

No, that's not the word.

I feel like he's somewhat of a hypocrite?

Yeah, I think that's the word.

I feel

hurt...

and confused.

I feel

unwanted...

and worthless.

I feel somewhat used?

No, that's not the word.

I feel like a toy.

Yeah, I guess that's the word.

Love Drugs Happiness

What do you do when you love someone so much, but their family isn't all that inviting?

To be honest, I'm not sure. Three years, practically three years I spent on the most wonderful guy. He'd do everything and anything for me. To me, you know a guy really loves you when he sacrifices his time, his hobby, his favorite everything... for you. He's willing to do anything, but I mean ANYTHING for you. He'd practically kill someone for you. When you're hurt, they'll shank someone or wipe a tear. They'll hold your face and play with your hair. Anything.

Straight out of high school, after everyone practically hates your guts for telling someone else that her four-some was leaked, you don't really really have many friends. After the drama of having a video on YouTube about you... and people wanting to kill you... and specifying that you're worthless, a cry-baby and that if they ever see you on the street they'll kill you... Yeah, I didn't have many friends out of high school. Everyone was just busy living their own lives.

My mom always taught me since I was little that there was no real thing as a best friend. That everyone used everybody for their own convenience. Throughout high school, I'd rebel; thinking that she was stupid and didn't know anything. Towards the end of high school, I began to realize that she was right. People DID use people. The more I let me guard down and the more I helped people... I realized that I too was used and abused...

So what happens when you only have one friend straight out of high school, who also happens to be your boyfriend? You spend every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day, of every week, of every month, of every year... together. You begin to depend on them. To care for them. To worry for them. To help them. To support them. Basically E) All of the above. He becomes the best friend and ONLY friend you have.

So what happens when you begin to develop feelings for someone else? You begin to think about everything. The good, the great, the bad, the horrible, the amazing, the everything. Though you are still in love with that person with all your might, you begin to think if it's mere dependency.

After finally breaking it off, what happens when your current guy wants me-time? You're alone. You don't have any friends. So, you're pretty much alone. You have no one to hang out with. Sure, you have some friends. Some Facebook friends. But you're pretty much alone. Everyone else has their lives, and their worries, and their own jobs, and classes. Whatever. You're alone. Boo hoo.

So what happens when your ex-boyfriend, now only best friend, stops talking to you? You feel even more alone. You begin to do things like sleep more often... And eventually become depressed.

I had never REALLY known what depression felt like. I always thought it was silly how the commercials stated that it help like you didn't want to get out of bed. But what happens when you wake up one morning and you have this daunting feeling that you don't want to get out of bed and realize it's NOT from sleeping late, it's not from being lazy, etc.? You realize you have depression.

It was this overwhelming feeling. The only feeling I can describe it to is receiving morphine. I had only ever received morphine once in my life and it was when I went to the emergency room because I got Cellulitis (Cellular Inflammation) in my left leg. It was a very horrible feeling and if I wasn't going to die from having bacteria in my blood, or having my leg swell until I need it amputated, I felt as if I was going to die from the morphine. It was this extremely cold fluid that went up my right arm from my IV and into my heart. It felt as if my heart was constricting. I felt dizzy and eventually threw up... But that's what I felt depression was like. It's a horrible feeling where you think thoughts like "The world doesn't need me. I don't make any difference. I think I'll just stay here."

Anyways, my mom thinks it's best I go to work to get my mind off everything. I love work. It helps. (: Helping people is therapeutic to me. No need for anti-depressants. All I have to do is go to work and make someone smile by making their day. If I can't have a perfect day, I'd at least want someone to have one.

There may me spelling or grammar errors, but I could care less. Thanks for reading.

Xoxo

Pain

I personally don't like to be hurt. Often times I question my reason for living if people are just going to hurt me verbally and emotionally... I really don't like when I can't understand someone, or makes sense of what they're saying and I end up being shout at. It hurts. My heart begins to feel constricted and I can't seem to stop crying. Sometimes I wonder what they would do if I left and never came back. Sometimes I wonder what if I went out while it rained and got more sick than I already am now and just... die. They'd be sorry and for the people who actually love me... they'd miss me.

I'm almost done with my pre-requisites and I will be applying to the nursing program this Spring to attend next Fall. Hopefully I make it in. If not, I'm really going to be screwed. I kinda don't want to transfer to a CSU... I want to stay here at home. We'll see what happens. There's my cousin's wedding in a few weeks. I am and am not looking forward to it. :| Also, my mom is getting surgery... She's getting her gallbladder removed. Hopefully everything goes all right, but at the moment.. I could care less.

:/

TO GO, OR NOT TO GO...

PROS:

• My cousin invited me to be one of her bridesmaids.
• I get to see my family.
• I haven't been to a family party in a long time.
• My nino offered to help me, but I don't need to take the offer.
• I have some money saved up. So, money isn't the problem.

CONS:

• People are "talking", that my nino is going to buy my plane ticket.
• I don't want to have anything rude said or down to me.
• I don't want to be a victim of theft, again.
• I don't really get along with some people and neither does my mom.
• I don't have a dress and need to find one.
• I need to figure of my passport stuff.

To be continued...

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New Year, New Beginnings

Hello again. As some of you may know, I am not new to blogger/blogspot/blogosphere... I have used this form of blogging before. Judging from the views I have, some people have read my blog. I thank them for this and encourage them to continue doing so. I deleted my blogs because I have been receiving several hate mail lately, but I guess I will start up again since this is a new year.

I am very enthusiastic about continuing my education at Golden West College this spring semester. Although I am still a full-time student like last semester, I have difficult courses to tackle and conquer this time. These difficulties will be essential to reach my goals. I am determined to do my best, study my brains fried and almost die in the process of being able to get that Associate's Degree in Nursing.

These were not always my plans. I had not originally wanted to follow the medical path. Throughout high school, I wanted to be an actress; not on television, not in movies, but on the stage. (Did I use that semi-colon right? I am being a little self-conscious because my English professor may read this. Haha!) On the stage, it was my home. The stage is where I felt most comfortable. I felt free, and alive. Actually it is more of an adrenaline rush if anything. At the high school I attended (Segerstrom Fundamental High School), we were only allowed two performing days due to budget cuts. (This I learned was the answer to most of the reasons why we did not have what other high schools did.) This was also the reason why the first day was opening night, and the second was closing night. Those years in drama, theatre, show choir, and choir... They were probably the best years of my life.

Other significant memories I hold dear to me are my days in my science and english classes. I had always been in honors classes. Science courses: Biology Honors, Chemistry Honors, A.P. Environmental Science, and Human Anatomy and Physiology. English Courses: English 1/2 Honors, English 3/4 Honors, A.P Language and Composition... And well, I took regular English my fourth year, which I later believed to be the biggest mistake of my life. Although my senior English teacher was trying her hardest, I sincerely believe that she hated me. Most of the students in that class were Honors and A.P. students. Our level of learning was more high than the teacher anticipated. We would always be correcting her and respond well developed answers.

For example, Macbeth was a breeze. I LOVE Shakespeare. :) We did extensive reading and analyzing in my previous honors classes. Anyways, for some reason or other she would never call on me. Perhaps because she thought Danielle (my friend) and I were "know-it-alls", but that was not my intention at all. I enjoyed analyzing. I do admit though... I did not like her probably as much as she did not like me. The reason why there were so many students with a higher level of... learning-ability? was because not all of us desired to take more than a few A.P. courses. This was so we would not be overwhelmed with work. Instead of A.P. Literature, most of the students took A.P. Government and Economics.

Yup. In the end, I passed with an A. Actually, I graduated with straight A's. My parents were proud. I did not know this until a month or so after when my final grades were mailed. My dad hugged me tightly and told me he was proud of me. I felt a surge of joy and it felt phenomenal to hear those words from my dad. I felt accepted and acknowledged for my hard work. He then showed me the grades I received. A's and O's. :)

It was actually in my senior anatomy class that I realized theatre was not going to get me anywhere in life, but anatomy could. My anatomy teacher was Mr. Pfeifer. I hope I spelled his name right. He was by far one of the best teachers I have ever had. I had the highest grade in all his classes and managed to maintain my grade by one simple task -- listening. Most people thought he was annoying, and laughed at his own jokes. I actually found the man to be exciting to listen to, and the knowledge and wisdom oozed out of him everywhere. Sorry for that picture, but he is amazing. I would listen to his voice and would listen to everything he said. There is a difference. I actually paid attention. The best advice he ever gave the class was "The best year of your life will be the year you are seventeen. Not eighteen. Not twenty-one. Seventeen. Remember, seventeen." Most people laughed, ignored him, or objected to this statement, but I listened, processed this advice, and learned. I actually do believe the best year of my life was indeed, when I was seventeen.

Sorry to end so abruptly, but I am getting sleepy. My eyes are closely and although I am perfectly able to type with my eyes closed... My mind is beginning to wander. Also, I do have to get up early in the morning. So, leave a comment if you would like and ask me a question if you desire. Thank you for reading.

Good night,
Sara