Last September I wasn’t able to join my school’s volleyball team because of my back pain. My school is small, and truthfully, there are only about 5 of us that really know how to play volleyball. My coach kept on telling me that they needed me.

It wasn’t untill late October that my chiropractor allowed me to join my team. My coach allowed me to play games and I didn’t have to show up to practices because we wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to hurt my back more.

It was the game that decided whether or not we were going to make it to cities. My team somehow freaked out, we all got pretty angry at how we were losing cause we knew we could win. Louise got in my way and my frustration build up inside me and i bursted out “LOUISE. YOU HAVE TO MOVE” and there you go, she was pissed.

I realized that what I said was mean and I felt really bad about it. I said sorry to her three times. Once right after the incident, one on msn messenger, and once again face to face at school. She’d been ignoring me whenever i tried to confront her at school. Finally when I did she snapped back telling me how she didn’t like that I didn’t play all season and now I just came on the team and took over like I was “all that”.

I talked to my coach (also my school counsellor) about the situation. I told her I wanted to make an apology to the team. I wanted to quit, I honestly didn’t feel like I belonged there anymore. I had been playing volleyball and friends with the girls for four years, and the hate that was on the court was taken into our friendships.

We had a team talk. My coach apologized for not playing her role as a coach in helping us unite as a team during our last game and I apologized for my actions and words to the team. I understand that they are all angry at the fact that I got to play and didn’t have to practice, but my coach told the team that they wouldn’t have made it this far in the season without me.

My coach asked “anyone have any more comments they would like to make to any of us?” My friend Sam raised her hand. Sam had a serious knee injury from the season before and was back to playing volleyball after her knee surgery in the summer, so she also knew how painful physical pain can be. She told me that she thought I was too pessimistic. That I shouldn’t be so mad about my back pain and should try to be more positive.

And you know what, I agree, yes I shoud be more positive, but something about what she said still hurts me six months later. All I wanted is for someone to just get it. I thought Sam could since she had her surgery and still to this day experiences a bit of pain. I want someone to understand how chronic pain messes with your body and mind. But on the other hand, I don’t want people to know how it’s like because I don’t want them to suffer through the pain I have been through.

This article http://www.sfu.ca/aq/features/pain_without_end.html is one my teacher found and gave it to me to read. Finally someone understands. This article articulates exactly how I feel and how chronic pain has impacted me. As the article states, the pain has impacted my immune system, hormonal interactions, organs, and cognitive (mental) function. That’s reality.

So give that article a read. It’s scary that one in five people suffer from chronic pain. If you’re one of them, remember, don’t give up. Not every treatment out there is going to help you. Keep going.

I have had over 10 different types of treatment (physio, masage, laser, chiro, ect.) and in total over 175 appointments in the past 2.5 years. It was been exhausting and it still keeps on going. Just never give up!

i’m morbidly infatuated with the way i feel my skin snag… rip…

tear.

the blood off the knife tastes almost sour, but it’s sweet at the same time.

my phone is going off with concern

i see the flashing of conversations

but i ignore it all

they weren’t there in the first place, won’t be there now.

nobody is ever there when i need them

i cut because i feel this indescribable amount of hate towards myself.

the blood is reassuring

the pain is calming, it reminds me that i feel something other than emotions

it brings me back down to earth

every time i cut a little deeper, feel a little more.

no friend is ever 100% there when you need them

no one is good enough

but the knife is

it’s wherever you put it, wherever you want it to be

whenever you want it to be

i hate myself. i hate myself. i hate myself.

i’m a selfish cunt.

i’m a bitch.

i’m a whore.

my friends are nice out of sympathy.

everyone hates me.

i’m a bad friend.

i hate myself i hate myself i hate myself.

those words vanish and the blade snags and tears my skin,

breaking up those bonds, breaking up those thoughts.

it’s a correlation.

it works.

this is part 2.

my hand is shaking my hands are cold and sweaty. thoughts race and i am slow to catch up. i’m more exhausted than i should be. i feel heavy and every step is like lifting 1,000 bricks just to put them back down and lift them up again, on repeat.

i feel like falling. i just want to collapse. without the drugs i feel incomplete, i feel empty. i just want to stop and melt into the ground. step on me, spit on me, run over me, use me, build me, break me. just know that i’m there.

i’m low.

i’m low because i feel like shit.

i’m low because i’m not high.

my hand is still shaking, my hands still cold and sweaty. i’m still fighting not to grind or clench.

i fight not to turn around and face temptation in the form of vapor.

don’t grind, don’t clench.

my tongue is numb.

again, i’m biting it.

don’t grind, don’t clench.

i close my eyes and imagine i fall back.

i imagine the high.

i take myself back to spring break, back to the relapse, back to the chair… shaking, sweating, biting, chewing…

raw.

pain.

step one, step two. one step at a time. just move forward. i have no destination. the only thing reminding me that this is all real is seeing my breath escape from my mouth as i exhale.

i hold my breath.

and i open my mouth and exhale – just a little.

i watch the warm foggy air almost fight within itself to escape.

and i felt that in a way… i was that warm foggy air, fighting to escape myself just to vanish.

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WHY is it that sexuality is such a big deal? Why do people have to discriminate? Why is liking the same sex so taboo? To me it’s the same thing if you have red hair as opposed to brown hair. I mean yeah she was clearly really drunk but no matter what it shouldn’t be a big deal.

I have a philosophy. If I haven’t come out to someone yet who’s a friend… it shouldn’t be a big deal. Because if they liked me before, they should like me regardless of some new information. So it’s not the way it “should be” but that’s the way it IS. Honestly I can’t imagine not accepting people of difference.

I’m gonna keep this short.

I think we should all discriminate against those who are straight for a week and see how they like it.
Or rednecks.
I think peoples’ opinion would change if they knew someone who was homosexual or bisexual or of colour, really knew them. I mean it’d be harder if it was someone of colour, but if it was someone who wasn’t straight and they got to know them and THEN they came out… I’m sure their opinions could change.

I personally discriminate against discriminators.

My friend tonight was crying and wanted to die because she felt like she had to hide her sexuality. Now what kind of life is that?

The alcohol certainly was a factor, but preference should never have to be hidden. Ever.

“listen… there is absolutely nothing wrong with you or with being gay. and your friends liked you before they knew, they have no reason not to if you told them. they thought you were kickass before, it shouldn’t knock their thoughts about you. i have a feeling you’re doing something self harming… but know that it’s okay to be gay. and know that you’re loved”

People shouldn’t NOT be considered people because of their preference or opinion.

“I’ve got a soul that cannot sleep at night when something just ain’t right/Blood red but without sight Exploding egos in the night mix like sticks of dynamite red black or white this is my fight/Come on, courage let’s be heard turn feelings into words/American equality has always been sour an attitude i would like to devour/My name is peace this is my hour can i get just a little bit of power?/The power of equality“
                        The Power of Equality – Red Hot Chili Peppers

Drowning,
losing breath.
losing focus.
everything becomes a blur in the magical mirror mirror on the wall,
tell me who is the fairest of them all?
we wish it was us.
we hope it was us.
we know it was us.
but it WAS.
it’s not.

At least, not
anymore.
who we are now reflects who we were.
that mirror mirror on the wall only shows what we want to be.
who we want to be.
where we want to be.
But it’s all just the
same.
just a mirage.
touch the mirror mirror on the wall, go on.
touch it.
Can you feel it?
of course not.

you’re drowning in your self image.
in your consciousness.
In your awareness.
in your hopes
your dreams
your wishes.

You wish you could stay afloat,
don’t you?
Ask the mirror, maybe it’ll give you a floatation device.
go on,
just ask.
the only thing that’ll
listen.
because it doesn’t have a mouth to rebut.

wouldn’t that be great?
nothing to speak back,
tell you otherwise,
tell you you’re wrong,
tell you you’re not who you want to be.

well isn’t that a shame.

mirror mirror on the wall,
who’s the most shameful of them all?

I tried several calls for help online.
Most were ignored. So I tried to be blunt.

“are you there?”
“yeah”
“i’m feeling really down i need someone to talk to”
“sure… haha look at my picture with my boyfriend it’s so cute!”

“heyyy “
“sorry… i don’t feel like talking right now…”
“whats so damn terrible that you have to be depressed? you’re always so damn depressed over nothing, miss rich bitch whos over spoiled”

All I wanted was someone to talk to. My friends know I have a problem controlling my emotions. I can deal with the phone call, maybe she was busy. My best friend wouldn’t help me. Another good friend would rather ask me about her cute boyfriend.

I’m tired of being depressed. I’m tired of finding myself on the floor curled up in my closet bawling my eyes out grippng onto the floor. I’m tired of thinking the same horible untrue thoughts about my self which I end up believing for that time.

It doesn’t take much to be there for someone. I don’t let myself cry long, I give myself 15 minutes maximum and then I’m fully clear within 10 minutes. It’s even shorter if someone’s there.

If someone tells you they’re depressed… write down other stuff to tell them later, and just listen. All it took for me was someone to listen and show they cared.

I don’t think I’m making sense.

The point is if someone is upset, just listen. It’s really not that hard.

kthx.