Sick

I've never been good enough, no matter how much I tried, I was never good enough, which is why after time I just started to not care. Imagine having to scrape pills out of your mothers mouth because she over dosed when you were 12, and everyone said that I had to take care of mum, I had to help her in every way, and I did, I know I did because everyone said I did, they still say it 'you used to always help her,' what made me stop? Maybe it was the numerous other suicide attempts that took plays in the following years, I specifically remember when she took off in 2008, sent everyone suicide messages, I remember everyone was flipping shit, they were crying, stressing, and I was there, trying not to let it bother me and continue washing the dishes like mum would have wanted. It was all a lie, no matter what I did to help her, it wouldn't make a difference, she still went down the dark road, so how was I supposed to feel, I felt like I wasn't good enough, like I have failed her.

What made things worse for me was when I came down with depression, I had to focus on myself to make me happy, its so hard to be happy when you feel like you're failing the person you love. She is sitting down stairs now, chatting away to her friends for support and sympathy while I'm up her alone in tears, I have no one to talk to about this, I'm messaging Dean now, but how am I supposed to tell the person I love so much that at times it is hard for me to have the will to live, its not his fault, its no ones fault, its not my fault, I'm just fucked, and theres nothing anyone can do for me, I can't see my fucking psychologist because she will give me some fucking burnt red tree ash or some hippie crap. I've been dealing with it great, but she just brings me down, I can't stay mentally healthy while I'm with her, we are no good for each other, tonight I put a blade to my skin, I just burst out in tears, there is so much hope for me, others would have made the cut, I'm still sane.

Damaged Petals

I'd like to tell Dean everything, about Isaac, about mum, I don't know how he'd react, might be too much for him, might make him understand a few things, he might not care, he'll probably just act how he usually does, I worry too much about how people will react to things rather then actually doing it and then facing the reaction unprepared. The other night when mum threatened me with a knife, it wasn't even the worst welcome home I've had, It's stupid that I can't even find the courage to tell a heap of random people I have never met. When I was twelve Isaac attempted suicide, I was the one that found him in a puddle of his own blood on the bathroom floor with knife cuts all across his arm, that was a nice welcome home. To top that, later that year coming home with Isaac, mum was nowhere to be found, finally we went in her room to find her face down on her bed with empty pill boxes next to her, we managed to get her on the floor and while Isaac called the ambulance I had to stick my fingers down her mouth to make her vomit up the pills and scrape them out of her mouth, fucking great welcome home for a twelve year old. My childhood hasn't been the easiest nor has it been the hardest, crying myself to sleep most nights, trying to forget everything, praying to god that one day it will all stop, it's finally stopped now, but things are still not good. How can I be expected to be normal after going through that, and mum has the nerve to tell me that I've had a great life, that I've had Christmases and presents all the time, well if you make a cake with all the right ingredients it's a good cake, but if you throw a knife and some pills in that cake it's gonna turn out pretty damn bad. It's understandable, when Tupac said not to blame the rose that grew from concrete for it's damaged petals, it's not exactly easy to turn out good when you've been through so much bad.

Overdose on love

Argh! Why must things be so difficult. I love him, I haven't told him but I find it hard to say, and then I think if i say it then it might become to easy to say and then it'll just be overused and lose meaning. I'm happy when I am with him, and it seams as though I become nasty when we are apart, I have felt snappy, short tempered and at times impatient with people, people mainly meaning my family, ie. mum and my younger brother. I think it would be best for me to probably stop staying at his place every night, all this week I have slept there with him and it's been great, I love it and I love being with him, but if it has come to a point where I am like this without him and I have pretty much become dependent on him for my happiness then it is time to slow down. I think I just need to spend some time at home, as much as I hate being here, I need to be able to function normally without him, not that I want to be without him, it's just that there will be times when I can't be with him and I need to know that I can be alright during those times. Argh listening to Angus and Julia Stone just makes me want to be with him even more.

An old friend messaged me yesterday, it was great to hear from him, I haven't seen him in months, I saw him a few times at his work early this year and every time I ran into him I had different coloured hair which he found fascinating. Lets say his name is N. I first found N on the GYC, we talked heaps and he was a really awesome guy. He was the first gay guy I met, he reminded me so much of one of my best friends Gavin, his attire, jeans and converses, and his personality, like when he messaged me he asked me to take over Guatemala with him and it reminded me of their likeness. Well yea he's a great guy and was very helpful and insightful, he was the first person I could confide in to help me accept who I am. So N messaged me yesterday and told me he was having a 'what does this all mean' situation that he needed help with, I told him I will do my best to help but he never told me the situation yet asked for an answer. I don't know if he wanted me to guess or assume the situation but I don't know, I feel a strong vibe coming from him and I think he may be having some problems and he needs someone to help him through.

One of my close friends was in hospital this week, he's been a long friend of mine and the news of what happened scared and saddened me. Blake's lung collapsed last Sunday night, I found out last night so I went and saw him today and was with him until he was sent home later in the evening. He was always a tall and slim guy, and the doctor said it usually happens to tall, slim people, but he also said that smoking, especially pot, increases the risk. He hasn't smoked since last weekend and plans to quit all together which I am very proud of, when we were kids, about 6 years ago (its funny how it seams so long ago yet the reality is that I have not traveled to far from my childhood) my mother gave four of my best friends a lecture making them promise not to let me smoke ever, these people were William, Keegan, Jeff and Blake, Blake has been the only one that looked out for me and made sure I never smoked, yes I am not perfect, I did smoke, cigarettes and marijuana, do i regret it, no, was it stupid, yes. My lungs have always been damaged and under-functional from pneumonia from an infant and two years ago, so I knew that smoking was the worst idea for me, but I did it, I wanted to try it, I am foolish and was only driven by the want to try something I knew would be harmful to me. Blake however never allowed me to smoke and wouldn't allow anyone to let me smoke, that's what I call a true friend, even though my foolish self wanted to, he did what he knew was best for me, not what I wanted, and that is what a true friend does. I believe in paying it forward, now that Blake has given up on smoking, I feel the responsibility to look out for my friends health and safety, it's so selfish for me to be treated with such respect and care from a friend if I don't deal the same respect and care back to them. My friend Brown wants to bring some weed to my party and I told him that I'm not going to let him smoke it, I don't want him smoking it in general, I told him he has a problem if he cant go the night without it, yet he says he can do without it he just chooses to do with it, which to me is saying 'I'm dependent on it'. Anyway, Blake being in hospital scared me, I was worried and still am for him, and it has changed my passive attitude towards my friends doing potentially harmful things.

I felt the title was relevant, I feel a sense of overdose on love, I love Dean, I love being with him, I love how helpful and willing strangers can be, I love how strangers can turn into memorable and close friends, I love how close friends really care, I love my friends and I love how I have so many issues right now that play with my love.

Day 27 - Muscle Juice

Its been a long time since I have posted anything on here. I feel really slack to have not attempted to post anything for all the days I have missed, it has been so long I am not one hundred percent sure if I am up to day 27, I think I am as tomorrow will be my four week mark of my journey. I wont spend much time reminiscing on the past week as I really want to talk about what happened today and led to the title.

Muscle juice, it was really funny to hear the term again, except it was used in a different context. My brother came back from Perth this morning, woke me up just to tell me I looked like a freak. For those of you who are unaware, I bleached my hair on Thursday night and now it is white, I will put up a photo at the end. Anyways, I got out of bed around 11, had a shower and went to make breakfast, at this time my younger brother was awake. He is following in my older brothers foot steps in ways, this is unfortunate in some aspects, but the aspect that he was following today is that he likes to work out and compare himself to my older brother. I think it is quite a silly idea to work out at a young age as it will mess with his growth spurts, but it makes him happy so I let him be. As I was making my cup of tea, my brother said he was going to go ask my older brother (okay it is getting quite annoying having to say older and younger brother all the time and I feel that they may get offended if I used their real names so after talking to my younger brother about what name he and my older brother would like to be called, he came up with Jackson for himself and Isaac for my older brother, so that will be their names from now on) if he could have some of his muscle juice, his muscle juice being a protein shake. It was that term that brought back memories from my childhood, it was in ways sad and funny to remember this term.

When I was younger, say pre 12 years old when I couldn't swallow tablets, my brothers and I would have to have this thick, pink, liquid medicine called Bactrim, its a mixture of two anti-biotics blah blah medical facts are not really relevant to the story. The Bactrim is to treat our blood disease, it wasn't to pleasing to swallow, especially when we were kids, so it wasn't really a fun experience to be taking this medicine every day. Mum and dad found this way of convincing us to want to take it, smart arses, they convinced us that it was muscle juice and would help make us strong. All our childhood we would take this stuff thinking that it would make us strong and like superman, it was a fun childhood prank sort of thing. In a way it was a lie, we were not going to become stronger than everyone else because we had muscle juice and they didn't, but it was true, it made us stronger than what we were, it allowed our immune system to function better and so we could live a normal life, rolling in the mud and sharing drinks without fear of getting an infection that would be a bitch and a half to fight off. Just these little insignificant things that allowed us to feel normal, but of course mum still worried like crazy.

Now that I am older I can see the sad side of it all, when Jackson mentioned having some of Isaac's muscle juice, the memories of my own muscle juice came back, and how I would take it thinking I would be superman, better than normal. My level of understanding and comprehension of the world around me allows me to see this sad side, that normal people take their muscle juice to be better than normal, to be superman, and I take my muscle juice just to be close to normal. Now I see that I can never be superman, and it is sad.

iBen