Remember When You Were Picked For Teams As A Child,and There Was Always That Last Child Who Would Be

Remember when you were picked for teams as a child, and there was always that last child who would be staring at the floor knowing they were going to be last?

That child knew the pain that came from humiliation and loneliness better than they ever should have. Remember that child who spent every lunch time alone in a bathroom stall, or completely changing who they were, to feel accepted into any group they could find?

That child grew up thinking it was normal to be whispered about all day, normal to be pushed into lockers, and normal for people to never be able to love them, and accept them for the way they were.

That child spent the rest of their life trying to heal others, trying to give them love.

And all it did, was leave them empty.

That child was me, and still is. I am now the adult with a broken heart, the adult unsure of finding someone who will love them again. When you have lived your entire life being told you are not good enough, you start to believe it. When you are always that friend willing to go above and beyond for your friend’s happiness, yet they could not care less about you when you are down, you start to believe that’s normal. That child was me, that child will always be me, and I will always have a heart too big for those that don’t deserve it.

Shingeki no Utattemita [ 1 2 3 4 ]

Why my kids will not go to school.

Today In drama class my friends, teacher and I were talking about kids and how many we wanted and what we wanted to name then. I then told my teacher that I was not going to put my kids in school. My friend asked “do you plan on homeschooling them and I replied back with “no” this continued to confuse my friends but my teacher nodded and asked me what I meant by saying that my kids were not going to go to school so I explained to them what I meant. 

I told them that there were way to many things to explore and discover out in the world then be stuck in a classroom for six hours learning things that they will forget after a booklet of papers stapled together to determine their fate at the end of the term was written on and passed in never to be seen again. 

I told them that my children were going to travel the world and learn things that they would never read sitting at a desk or hear listening to a teacher talk at the front of a classroom for an hour. 

My friend then asked “Well what about reading and writing?” 

I told her that yes I would obviously teach them how to read and write and count money and add and subtract and how to tell time. 

They will learn their directions by reading a compass and navigating by the stars that they have looked up at every night and not just said “Oh those are pretty.” They will call them by their names and know what star burns the brightest of them all. They will learn to count money not only in Canadian coins but in other currencies also. How many times have we been taught that in math class?

They will be taught to write about their adventures they take and the people they meet and they will learn to read books about the wilderness and they will read about the different cultures before we stop at our destinations. 

“They won’t have any friends!” One of my friends exclaimed.

Yes, they will…

They will have more friends than any of the kids at school can count because they will have friends all around the world. 

“They won’t get to see them!” 

Just because you don’t see your friends doesn’t mean you don’t have them. 

“Well what about the government?” 

What about them?

“It’s the law that your children have to go to school.” 

They are learning, they are learning more than they will ever learn cooped up in a classroom of 30 kids with one teacher who is barley able to keep everyone quiet let alone be able to have one on one time with their students. 

“What if people tell you your a bad parent?” 

there will always be people judging people in the world. While they sit there judging me their kids are sitting in a classroom for six hours, 7 days a week. 10 months a year for 12 years…

I will be spending time traveling and teaching my kids the true meaning of living.

Happiness. 

my depression is cured

Favorite color

Everyone have a favorite color. My mother is purple, my father is navy, my brother is blue, and my sister is yellow.

Mine’s a bit unusual. Weird even. It’s not white or blue, not green or red, not brown or grey. Some say that it’s not even a color.

The color of my parents’ eyes when they see me. The color of the voices that haunt me in my dreams. The color of the ink I used to write my bio. The color of my grades. The color of my 7 year-old self's eyes if they could see me now.

The color of failure. My favorite color. Disappointment.

What is depression like

Depression is like an uninvited guest at a dinner party you didn’t want to be at anyways.

It is disruptive and loud and takes all of the attention away from everything else.

It pushes you around and brings up events from years ago that you would rather have forgotten about.

It is frustrating and annoying to everyone else, but all you can do is ignore it. Hope it goes away. Maybe even pretend it’s not there for a while.

But you can’t do that forever.

Depression is like a crashing wave while you’re still in the water.

You weren’t prepared for it. It came out of no where and now that’s all you can see.

Your mouth is still open and you swallow it down. You choke. You begin to drown.

It is terrifying.

Depression is like being on anesthetic but you’re still awake.

You can’t feel anything. You can’t move for hours. Days. Weeks…

It takes over your whole body and for a while you don’t really care

All you are is tired.

But you’re not allowed to sleep. You just lie awake, unable to do anything but watch in horror as everything you know and love falls apart.

Depression is like a million alarms going off at once.

It is a warning. It’s all you can hear but nobody seems to notice, they’re used to it by now.

The noise consumes you. It eats you alive. You beg for it to stop, but it never does.

Until one day you can’t fight it anymore.

You sink. Like an anchor, you sink to the bottom and you don’t make your way back up again.

You feel as if you can never recover. You feel like an empty shell of the person you used to be.

You are left more broken then ever before, the kind of broken that isn’t quite fixable.

And it’s all because of depression.