Wednesday, July 28, 2010


I thought I knew you, my sweetest cyanide
I thought I had you believe in nothing
I thought I knew you, my teenage suicide
I thought I had you believe in nothing

RazorBladeKisses is one of my favourite bands. The fact that they're beautiful Gothic Lolitas make them even better. Their dark, haunting lyrics make them perfect to me. Their music is one of my sweet addictions. So is cutting. Which I've done a lot more of recently. And I got blood on my white nightdress last night. My mom hasn't found out yet. I can't get it off. Last night, when I found out there was blood on it, I freaked out and decided I had to cover my wounds with makeup. I knew that would be a bad idea, but I was desperate because I could not let her see how badly I was doing. So. I had to put a lot of foundation on my wounds. And it hurt so badly. Putting makeup on open wounds. Really fucking smart. If I didn't have an infection before, I probably do now. And I did it again this morning. And I didn't even need to show her my arms. What a waste of suffering.

Back onto the topic of addiction, I have another new one. A song. Strawberry Gashes by Jack Off Jill.

Watch me lose her
It's almost like losing myself
Give her my soul
And let them take somebody else
Get away from me
Watch me fault her
You're living like a disaster
She said, "Kill me faster"
With strawberry gashes all over, all over me

It's about a girl whose friend is a cutter. The girl cares a lot for her friend, and tries to get her to stop. She doesn't, and kills herself. This causes the girl to start cutting herself, too. The excerpt I put in was from the ending, which is why she says the strawberry gashes are all over herself. I love that song. I love Jessicka for creating it.

I've gotten into two physical fights in the past twenty-four hours. My anger and depression issues have gotten worse in the past week. I've been cutting for no reason, just because I feel like it. Not even because I want the pain, I just want to cut because... I don't know why. I just do. I get paranoid often, but I love it because it makes me capable of nothing but sitting in the darkness of my room listening to depressing music and cutting myself. I know how emo that makes me sound, but I don't care.

Oh, and I dyed my hair this past Saturday too. It's the darkest black you can get. It looks nice. When I dress up in full-out Kuro Lolita and put on some liquid eyeliner and red lipliner, I look like a gothic doll. Maybe one of those Living Dead Dolls. But better. I know, it's strange for a self-hater to compliment herself like that, but it's true. I guess I do have some self-confidence. It must be the Remeron.

I'm going to be just like Alice... only with a darker personality. I'm going to find Wonderland, I'll get through the looking glass. And I will never have to come back to this world again. I will be free. Because not only am I obsessed with Alice, but I believe Wonderland and the looking glass world to be real. Every fiction novel has a hint of truth to it. Dodgson may not have known these places existed when he wrote about them, but they are. I just have to find them.

Last night I cried for the first time in what feels like ages. Putting aside the brief moments of intense emotion, I've been completely apathetic. I think my best friend hates me because sometimes I ignore her completely and sometimes I snap at her. And my parents get pissed off at me every time I stop speaking. I think I do this when I'm feeling something, but I'm not sure what. Some sort of mixture of anger, sadness, and something else. I don't know. But it happens frequently.

My current goal is to lose 30 pounds by mid-November. Yes, that's giving me a long time. I could explain the reasons why, but it's boring. I never feel like eating, anyway. When I'm apathetic, I just don't care if I eat or not. And then during those bouts of anger and/or despair, all I want to do is lock myself in my room and cut and drink the blood and smile because of the lovely, beautiful pain. Except I don't drink my own blood. Not very often anyway. Only sometimes. I did it more when I was a child.

I think you're all crazy here
I think you're all crazy here
You should be locked away, my dear

Don't take me, don't take me home

Saturday, July 17, 2010

broken girl

Back from my vacation. Had a wonderful time. The concert was lovely. It hurt, but it was still by far the most fun I had in those two weeks. I was in the first row and people were suffocating me and pressing against me and hurting me but I loved it. And they played most of my favourite songs of theirs. And it was literally the first time I screamed since I was a child...

I want to die. And yet at the same time, I don't. haha, I feel so weird right now. Everything feels so funny... And you know what? I'm fucking sick of writing this. I want to keep my problems to myself. Nobody needs to know what's going on in my life. Nobody fucking cares. I seem like some self-centered bitch (which, when I think about it, I am) who just wants attention. I used to be so afraid of what other people thought of me. Now I don't give a shit (though sometimes my social anxiety kicks in again and makes me care, but that's a lot less often since I've been on medication). The weirdest thing is that I actually relied on this blog to make me feel... not better, but I don't know the word for it. When in reality, I end up feeling worse later for letting my problems out to the world. I've found that people suffering from depression live very isolated lives (obviously). They don't share much with anyone. I've been sharing too much. I'm depressed. I might as well be fucking good at it and fit the image of psychotic depression perfectly. Then I'd finally have a talent. And I'll be the best fucking depressed girl on the face of this planet.

If I'm going down
Then I'm going down good
If I'm going down
Then I'm going down clean

If I'm going down
Then I'm going down the prettiest broken girl that you've ever seen.

Friday, July 9, 2010

manipulate me if you can

My dad brought a laptop, so I was able to get on after all...

I'm practically glowing with happiness right now because today I went to the Chinatown in Calgary... No, not a big deal. But, there was an Asian entertainment store where I got two music DVDs, hide and X Japan. And then in some other store I bought a Death Note. Haha, so pathetic... And on the second floor... there was a store... (lots of pauses)... where I bought a pair of black socks with black lace and ribbons at the top. They're beautiful, and when I saw them I thought they would be perfect for lolita. Then I went to the store across from that one, and I saw lolita dresses! I was so shocked and happy at the same time, and the store owner saw me looking at them and helped me choose two (they were on sale for half price, brand name dresses for $80 each, so awesome) and she said a few things about lolita and explained how to make my own petticoat... So I bought a beautiful black dress with bows and lace and ruffles, and a another beautiful black dress with white lace trim. I was so happy, but there were two or three other dresses there that I wanted, haha... Maybe I'll convince my parents to let me go back... no, I don't think so... oh well... I'm still happy.

Yeah, so most of my trip has been good. Only one bad day so far, where I had a mental breakdown in the middle of a dinosaur museum in Drumheller. I climbed the Rocky Mountains, saw a dinner theatre about piano (which was hilarious), met my family, bought a lot of clothing (five dresses, a blouse, and some accessories), saw the parade for the opening of the Stampede (I was dying in the heat though) and at the parade saw a country lolita (not participating, though), and I have bad memory and can't remember anything else... Tomorrow I'm going to an antique mall, Sunday I'm going to the Stampede (hopefully for the whole day, but at least in the evening for the Grandstand Show), and I don't know after that. Oh, I saw the Body Works exhibit at the Science Centre... And I've been burning off most of the calories I consume. On Wednesday and Thursday I'll be staying at a hotel in Edmonton, hopefully I'll find a parasol there.

I also met my niece, who is about three months old... her name is Felicity. I used to hate babies, I thought they were creepy and extremely ugly. Recently, I've started to like them more... My family is really kind, polite, considerate, and talkative, which makes me feel so awkward around them, but I've tried so hard to sound normal. But I've been wearing Goth/GothLoli/CasualLoli clothing everyday so they already think I'm weird. Though I got a lot of compliments on my prince-style Gothic Lolita outfit. And today I smudged black eyeliner around my eyes so I look really tired and put a little bit of red lipliner around them so I look like I haven't slept in weeks. I've tried this makeup before, but never in public.

So, I've been wearing a lot of dresses lately, and though I always wear stockings, I'm more used to loose-fitting jeans, so I've been noticing the shape of my legs a bit more. And I've decided I don't mind my calves, but I hate everything above the knee. I hate my entire arms, I hate my stomach, and I hate my face... I think losing thirty pounds will be a start. And I'll go from there... Since I'm so obsessed with the lolita fashion, I've noticed that (obviously) fat girls look terrible in it, healthy weight girls look okay, underweight girls look beautiful, and severely underweight girls don't look so good, though it's probably just because the clothing isn't made to fit stick thin girls. Otherwise, they'd look fabulous... So I'm not setting a goal, I'm just going to lose weight until I'm happy.

While I was walking to the house I'm staying at today, I started singing Miss Lucy Had Some Leeches in a dramatic voice. My family was way behind me (I walk fast) so they didn't hear me, and people in cars saw my lips moving and probably thought I was singing along to my iPod, but it was actually turned off. And I got enough stares because of my dress and stockings anyway (mostly from little girls, but also random adults), so that was amusing. I love peoples' expressions when they see me. Mostly positive from adults (at least in lolita, not goth), mostly negative from youth...

So I don't know when my next post will be, but it's not like anybody cares anyway. I write this blog for my own amusement and well-being, anyway. I have two selves: the one I show to the public because of my social anxiety, and the one I'm able to express freely. Here, I can be myself. So that's why I write this...

Friday, July 2, 2010

let me in your dream

I'm so proud of myself right now!! My parents left to drop off our dog at my uncle's place, so I spent the time looking for something to cut with, since they found and took everything I had. First I tried to break a glass, but I couldn't smash it against the floor because my brother is still here, so I tried it outside, but the ground is too soft. So I gave up on that idea and went to look for pencil sharpeners I could take the razors out of. I started by scouring all of the middle floor, but couldn't find anything (though I did get a screw driver so I could take out the razor) but a mechanical one, which I had no idea how to take apart. I looked in the basement, nothing, I looked in my parents' room and found the calligraphy pen I used to cut with. I took that, and continued my search because it wasn't good enough. (Yeah, this is turning into a story, haha) I took the mechanical sharpener, and tried to get the razor out. I used multiple screw drivers, but the fucking thing wouldn't move. After spending over an hour trying to get it out, I was extremely pissed off and tried cutting myself with the calligraphy pen. Like I suspected, not good enough. I bled, but it dried instantly. So I looked back in the place where I found the mechanical one, and lo and behold, there was a double pencil sharpener. I removed both razors, and despite the fact that they're old and rusty, knew I could use them. I washed them off just in case they might give me an infection (I think I have one already, anyway), and hid everything in different places so my mom can't find all of them. I know I'm stupid not to find the thing I was looking for instantly, but it was fun, and I'm so happy now that I don't even need to cut.

So anyway, I'm going to Calgary tomorrow... I have two books to read on the plane, because it's two hours to Toronto, then four more to Calgary. The Looking Glass Wars and Goth Girl Rising (which I refused to read a few months ago because I couldn't find what I believe is the prequel, but it's not sold here so I just decided to buy it)... And I deleted all of Marilyn Manson's music from my iPod because I fucking despise him now... Before, I couldn't decide whether to love or hate him. Now I'm absolutely certain that it's hate. I hate everything he does, everything he represents. His music is good, but I don't care. He's not worth listening to. And one of his girlfriends got an abortion (his child) which pissed me off even more... And his song Get Your Gunn, I absolutely despise the lyrics. He talks about cutting as if everyone who does it is fucking emo, and is basically saying how stupid pro-life is. Well, not exactly, he's insulting the hypocritical ones who take away life when they say they promote it, but still.

But I digress... I couldn't do my fast because of my parents, but it's alright because I'm so happy right now and I know I can get my revenge on them very soon. My breakfast in Calgary will simply consist of tea and nothing else, and I'm sure I can have small servings for lunch and dinner, since my parents are used to me complaining about how I'm never hungry enough to finish things...

And I've recently fell in love with the Gothic Lolita band RazorBladeKisses. They only have one album, but their music is dark and enchanting, they look so amazing, and their lyrics aren't the best, but still good. And their video for Ballerina is simply lovely... Or maybe it's just that they're lovely... Whatever. I'm still rambling...

So I have to stay on Remeron for now, but that's alright because I will fucking show them, prove to them that I am not depressed, and they will regret ignoring me. My psychiatrist said that I might stay in a hospital (a good one, outside of my city) for a month or so to get re-evaluated since I'm absolutely certain that I'm not depressed, but we'll see later. I'm not certain, actually. Just maybe 85% sure. If I have a mood disorder, it's not a serious one. Maybe dysthymia or cyclothymia.

And I have to go now, so that's all the pointless things I'll be rambling about today. I don't think I'll be posting again until I'm back in two weeks, and I haven't read anyone's blogs in about a week so I'll have a lot of catching up to do. Haha, talk about being a self-centered bitch.