Your souls are connected, sure-- but that doesn't mean it's meant to be in this life.

I don't remember writing that post omg.

This is why I've been SEVEN WHOLE DAYZ without booze ✌🏻 your bitch got faaaaaat man.



ANYWAY


You don't miss him. You miss the memories.

You miss the love story that wasn't real, and you miss feeling like you had someone.

But even if you were with him, you'd feel alone. Even if you were with him, those memories wouldn't be anymore tangible; they'd still be memories.

If you were with him you'd be doing nothing and going no where. You'd be angry and sad and hurt.
Which you already are but at least it's YOURSELF who's making you angry and sad and hurt... not someone else.

You want different things. He's boring and dramatic, stupid, and has no control. He makes you feel guilty for everything and has zero interests other than like... watching hockey here and there.

He's a child and will always be a child, and isn't that the main reason you decided to leave? Because you don't want children? Why the fuck would you go back to one?

Duh.

Trust me, it's better this way. Loneliness sucks, but you're gonna have it regardless, and his company is not worth having.

Silly girl, trying to convince yourself that things might be different after a year... you're hilarious.

Look at how far you've come!! You're almost solid again! Not faded in the distance; a soul without a name. I can see you.

There are all these signs telling you about the abundance destined for you. You've got stars shooting for you and clovers sprouting four leaves; you had a swarm of lady bugs last week, and a flock of robins this week.

Fuck, even the spooky, "spin-the-wheel" toy at Shoppers landed on "your luck has changed for the better"
Mom got, "no one can help you now" LOL

So don't fight it. Let what's coming come. Breathe. Be present. Breathe. Be calm. Breathe. And just... be.

♥︎,

 Mint.

Hi there,

I'm looking for cocaine, love (or death- preferably death), and lipo; can I get any hookups?

Thanks doll 💋


I'm screamin' Wilson.

*kisses*

I might buy a car todaaaaaaaaaaay!

And there's one view on my video LOL but now that it's out there, I'm getting kinda settled with the idea. You know like when you go into a lake and it's FREEZING and you're breathing in out out all heavy like "FUCK THIS SHIT COLD", but then you slowly get used to it, and get comfortable? You know that feel? That's how I'm feeling about it, so that's cooooool.

I finished my mom's painting finally the other day too. It's sick because it's GIANT.

I have nothing else to say reallyyyyy

Good morningz I guess! 😽💕

♥︎,

Mint.

AHHH

SO

I'VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING A SINGER.

LIKE THAT'S ALL I'VE EVER WANTED TO BE EVER.

BUT
I'VE ALWAYS BEEN SCARED
BECAUSE I HATE ME

BUT TODAY
I DRANK (STILL COUNTS)
AND I SANG
AND RECORDED
ONCE OR TWICE TO FIGURE OUT WHICH SONG I WANTED TO UPLOAD AND BOOM

IT'S THERE

THE INTERNET CAN SEE IT

MY COVER.

YAYO BY LANA

I'M NERVOUS LMAO

I HATE PUTTING MYSELF OUT THERE.

BUT I SHOULD LEARN TO.

WAH.

Anger and Sadness

I'm sad today because I've been trying to get a handful of small tattoos for months now.

I usually get Sundays/Mondays or Sundays/Wednesdays off at work; and the parlour I go to is closed Sunday/Monday.

Shit's been busy, shit's been happening, but today, July 5th (the day I left Etown last year), everything was set.

I got my body all fresh and clean, I got an outfit that made me look NOT like a "super white girl", I looked through 100 types of font and typed each word into each chosen font (three words).

I went through the possibilities, discussed it, rearranged it using my graphic design software, phoned the parlour to see if they'd be able to take me (anxiety filled)... LIKE SHIT WAS PREPARED.

My mom (my ride), was finally ready and we get goin'.

This is already risky; Asking my mom for anything is risky because she's more insane than I am (she's lived longer).

Everything was alright though... like I could deal with it.

But then she needed to shower. I went out to smoke. Apparently she was banging and yelling for me because she forgot her razor and mine was on the counter (she didn't know)... so when she got out she was straight cranky.

She was already cranky because she spent a gazillion hours making phone calls about some pub shit and it had set the scene.

When we pulled out of the driveway shit got worse because our neighbours moved her garbage cans (she leaves them in front of our house so they don't park in front of it- it bothers her I guess).

So yeah... that happened. She was pissed. Driving like a maniac. I'm scared as fuck. Makes her more angry because I "don't trust her". Yet I've been in just a FEW car accidents.... damn.

Anyway. I ask her (before she even left the driveway actually) if we could stop, and go home. Because this isn't fun. I don't want to get ink injected into me for life with a cranky ass motherfucker, ya feel? Like those are bad vibes.

So I'm beggin' and beggin' and beggin' and she finally turns around and it's the scariest 5 mins of my life.

Fuck, I'm so sad and angry. I've waited sooooo fucking long.
I prepped today sooooo fucking hard.
I was soooo fucking excited.

I was also supposed to hang out with my ex-sorority friend A tonight, and she cancelled for like the third week in a row.

Everyone makes plans with me (they text first) and then something clears in their mind and they cancel or just don't text me... or reply.

I'm so lonely.

I wish I didn't pass out last week. I wish I got those pills. I wish I was fucking gone.

- Mint.

Gilded Guns

Here it is

I'm drunk
I'm drunk
I'm drunk

I made a sugar baby profile like a week or so ago.
I had sex with a dude close to my age for a hunnit and a pack of smokes.
I met a speed freak daddy that I'm in love with who doesn't want to love me and it's sad.
I tried to kill myself on Sunday but I passed out before I could finish ordering the pills.
I realized I'm bad at being alone lol
My big brother was supposed to babysit me while mom was gone... he lasted a total of two day; he's my dad, I swear to god...

Today was shit, and I wanted to kill myself more than before.
But by the end of work something changed and I didn't hate everything so much, so I'm still here.

I just remade my sugar baby account after deleting it half a week ago.

I realized this:

"I don't give a damn about life
I can have hopes and dreams but it doesn't mean I want to wake up tomorrow

Nothing means anything to me"

So judge me
Judge me, I beg you.

Because the only reason I'm doing things is so I don't kill my goddamn self.
Anything I'm doing, it's so I don't kill myself.
There are moments where I don't get why I'm still going, what am I going for?

Legit.

So please, I know what I do isn't like... cool or fun or whatever the fuck.
It's just stuff to distract myself from the fact that death goddamn exists.
Give me a goddamn break.
Nothing matters.

Nothing is real.

Wanna read my finally finished poem? I finished it yesterday? Was it yesterday? idk...

I'll post it.
I want a gun tattoo because of it.

I held a gun earlier this week. I wanted to ask speed daddy how much, but I didn't. He wiped my fingerprints clean.
It's definitely heavier than I thought; I had to force myself not to shove that barrel in my fucking mouth; had to take the second best barrel option...

- Mint.

I got drunk again today because of a lot of things but my alcoholic/meth head brother is coming to stay with mom and I tonight... the one who owes me 3 grand? The one who is soooooo amazing because he works for a fake ass rehab center?

Yeah... Him.

I'm drunk. For a lot of reasons. One because I wanna see if this mother fucker can catch someone who's not fucking stupid. Someone who has the IQ of over 120. Can you catch me, bro?

Tomorrow I have a trial shift at the coffee place; 10 am-2 pm. I'm nervous... so I'll zonk myself out like before because my brother will be here when I leave... I won't be able to grab a shot.

But drugs mannnn; I love it.

I came back to this city to figure out who I am... turns out that I'm the same goddamn girl I thought I was; that's kinda cool... kinda good news.

If I can handle this job it'll be ace; I'll get money. Get a car, get rid of debt... be able to be on my own; be able to buy booze on my own... go to AB on my own...

I wanna go to AB so fucking bad. There are so many jobs at the moment over there...

I hate living with/near my family. I feel so controlled, you know??

J has a three bedroom apartment... my eye is on it to be honest. I need escape; but I need a whole shit ton, you know?

- Mint

I'm drunk.

I don't think I got the job that I was praying for...

I got a job at a coffee shop though... if I want it.

But I have to commit to working there until December... but I'm not good at commitment, now am I?

I went to the doctors yesterday to refill my prescription.

He was mean because I used the wrong name for one of my medications. Apparently "lexapro" doesn't exist. It DOES exist buuuuuut apparently not in his world. He was Russian or some shit... always cutting me off.

I wanted to stab that mother fucker with a goddamn popsicle stick; my eyes welled up...

My mom took over and told him what she knows of my sob story. He quieted right the fuck up.

I guess I'm stable until I'm not...

I got a referral for a psychiatrist though, FINALLY. I've been waiting a year, ever since I was taken away and promised health; I paid $3000 for nothing....

So maybe I can finally get some ativan; I want some goddamn ativan man.

I sent BB some long, drunk messages earlier this week.

This morning he told me that I was a bad girlfriend and that's why he cheated on me. He said that I'm no good. He said he's happy I'm gone because now he has a real chance at happiness.


What do you do when the only real reason you continue to breathe is gone? What do you do when you tell that person you're going away for good and they don't even try to get you to talk to someone?

You don't. Just faaaaaaaade away Mint. Just faaaaaaaade...

- Mint

13 Reasons Why

I mean... it was only a matter of time before I wrote about this, so here we go. This post will probably contain spoilers just so you're warned.

"13 Reasons Why"... fuck.

All I knew about this show was one line of description:

It's about a girl who commits suicide and leaves cassette tapes explaining why.

Which is what it's all about really.

The writing for this show is terrible. I almost didn't continue watching after the first episode because it was so bad... but I'm a curious cat and now I've been killed.

It probably wasn't a very good idea to watch it since I've been feeling extremely suicidal again lately. To the point where I've been making plans/coming up with ideas.

Anyway...

Even though the show's script was filled with things that would be unlikely said/done, there was so much in there that was just too real. Uncomfortably real.

I was happy with the fact that they showed how stupid it is when people only seem to care once the damage has been done. How a lot of people "act" sorrowful when someone dies, even though they never appreciated the person when the person was actually there.

It reminds me of November 2013 when this girl I knew "accidentally" drove over a cliff and died; I saw her a few days before. We were supposed to go to our hometown together for the long weekend but I didn't because I had to work the day she wanted to go.

I wasn't friends with this girl. I never even talked to her at all growing up. She was one or two years younger than me but she rode my bus in elementary so I knew of her existence.

We only started talking BRIEFLY when I saw her on campus in my new town. I didn't know anyone else had moved here so that was our thing in common.

She'd come into the store I worked at every so often, by herself, and we'd talk for a little bit until I had to get back to work. I knew she felt kinda isolated like how I did. How she was feeling herself grow apart from her high school friends, and how it's hard to get close to new people.

Now, I'm not saying she killed herself. It was icy that weekend and I'm not her ghost, I wasn't there. BUT! What pissed me off was FB after her death. So many people posted about how much they loved her and missed her. So PUBLIC. So empty feeling...
I knew these people weren't giving her the love they said they were providing. I heard it from the horse's mouth!!

"The people around us are the type who post 'Happy Birthday' on everyone's walls,
But forget to ask if they have any plans for their big day.

They're the type of people who write their condolences following the appropriate

R
I
P

But don't bother bringing flowers to the grave."

I wrote that on November 12th, 2013.

That girl's death has always really angered me. I don't know many people who've died (just my Gran, Nono, and Grand dad- all in the span of two months when I was 7), but this one really pissed me the fuck off.

Anyway...

What was I saying?

Oh right, I'm happy that I'm not the only one who is maddened by people "keeping face", you know?

I also liked how in this show it showed the different ways people can view a suicide. Some people don't give a shit, some people say it's attention-seeking, some say it's the person's fault for killing them selves, some take the blame for the death, some are pissed off that the person killed themselves, etc.

Some people have said they don't support the show because it "glorifies" suicide. And to that I say, "go to hell". Suicide is suicide no matter what. Glorification of anything is based on the individual's values. It's up to the viewer to glorify something or not. AND, if all you have to say about this show is that it's bad because it glorifies something tragic, then you are absolutely fucked and missing literally all the points. You should go fucking try again at life and then get back to me.

The thing about mental health is this: you don't know unless you've experienced it.
And, even if you HAVE experienced it, you still don't know how others have experienced it; you can only understand where they're coming from a little more. So who are you to judge whether this show was over-dramatic or unrealistic or anything? Who are you to say that Hannah didn't display the signs she "should" have been displaying??

It's exactly like scientific criteria when it comes to diagnosis. If you don't check everything off, you're not sick enough. I know that it's hard to measure mental pain, but goddamnit, we're not all that stupid and cold to need PHYSICAL evidence to determine whether a girl has been deemed worthy enough to kill herself in the bathtub... are we?

*sigh*

Anyway...

It started getting hard for me to watch once I got to the first episode addressing Jessica's party.

Rape is something I can't handle, like at all. Just because it's such a confusing topic for me.

What is rape? Where are the lines? When are they really crossed?

It's a question that (in my opinion) is very complicated.

Now, before you start judging me in your head, I'm not saying that anyone who says they were raped are wrong. I'm not saying that your opinion of "what rape is" is wrong either. I'm not saying anyone is wrong. I'm merely asking questions just because it's something I wonder about a lot a lot.

Like, I understand the big things like, no means no; and you don't need to say "no" specifically, to not give consent; and that you shouldn't fuck someone who's too drunk to make an actual conscious decision.

But like, what if you're the girl and you're pretty drunk; not passed out obvi, but just like... people know you're past the point of good decisions. Say you've been talking to a guy, ALL night; not suddenly, but all night, and you've actually talked to him before even though you guys have never hung out.
He's just as drunk as you are. He kissed you a few times throughout the night, you let him squeeze your ass.
You two go back to his place, he says to come cuddle with him. You say, "Okay but I don't want to have sex." You've actually told him this all day, before you even met up with him.
He cuddles you and kisses you and you let it happen because you don't want to be impolite. You kiss back because that's what you're supposed to do... right?
He keeps kissing you and takes off your shirt and you sit up and say softly, "I said that I don't want to fuck you."
He keeps kissing your shoulders and eventually you just let it happen because now your stuck at his place, and maybe you led him on because you didn't say "no" to the kisses before, because you let him squeeze your ass. You think, maybe it's rude to not let him have sex with you now?

What about this "not taking advantage" thing though? Is it "taking advantage" if you're both at equal levels of inebriation?

Is it rape because you didn't stop it, even though you think you could've? Is it rape because they should've known you were too drunk? That they were too drunk?

Or what about if you can't remember a situation starting because you were so drunk? What if you only remember a guy pounding into you for a flash of a second, and you wonder how you got there and you wonder how this started happening... is that rape? You don't remember ever asking for this guy to smash you, but you don't remember saying no either... Hell, you don't even remember going into his bedroom with him.

Or what if you were at someone's house for your boyfriend's birthday party with people you both don't know and you're 95% sure you were drugged by said strangers because you only had one drink but were completely wasted and because they kept pressuring you to drink said drink.
And because, eventually, at the end of the night, you had no idea where you were.
What if you laid down next to someone who was very drunk while your boyfriend waited for you in the car because you needed to get the purse that you thought you left inside when actually the purse was beside you, in the car the entire time.
What if you thought you were at home with your boyfriend on the couch so you kissed the person laying there. And they you kissed back. And you realized that it wasn't your boyfriend. But then things started happening and your brain for some reason wouldn't send the signals to stop it, even though you wanted it to stop. Is that rape?

Is this all your fault? Because you made stupid decisions that put yourself into bad situations??

What if your boyfriend sticks his dick in you after you told him "no" and tried pushing him away? Is that rape? Because there's been times where you say "no" and push him away, but eventually you're into it and actually have a good time. Are you sending mixed signals? Is that your fault, or is that rape?

Or your boyfriend gets on top of you and starts trying to fuck you but it hurts because you're not turned on, and you don't want it, but he tells you that it's "okay" because he'll "go slow". If that rape? Because you gave up fighting and just let it happen you know...
One time he even got mad and got off of you because you "weren't getting wet anyway"... is it rape if they don't finish? Is it rape if it's your boyfriend?

Tell me, because I have no idea. It seems that one could do so much to have avoided these situations:

You could've not gotten so drunk, you could've been firmer with your "no"s, you could've not just "let it happen", you could've tried harder to make your brain send those signals, or maybe you could've kept a closer eye on your drink...

Is this your fault? Did you let this happen?
Are you okay? Have you been raped?

Is it only rape if you call it rape?

Btw, I'm 100% not putting blame anywhere NEAR the victim, okay? I'm still just asking about where the lines are.

Anyway...

Jessica's rape scene bothered me. But HANNAH'S? With that one I eventually had to close my eyes and turn down the volume.
You can see the exact moment where she dissociates from her body. That look on her face... that look where she just seems like a lifeless corpse... that was too real for me. That was too haunting.

After that, I thought the last couple episodes would be fine. NOTHING, could bother me more than that. NOTHING.

Except... I didn't think that they'd show her suicide... I didn't think it would seem so real.

I've only really tried attempting suicide twice.

There's been times where I've sat down, READY to attempt, but just... didn't? I guess?
There's been times where I've cut myself praying to god that it'd be enough to kill myself.

But there has only been two times when I've done things with the sole purpose of ending my life.

The first one was when I took 6-7 Ativan with a two-six of straight Sambuca. I also took a handful of my anti-anxiety meds (venlafaxine, 150 mg) because idk, I just wanted all the pills ever made to be in my system. But then BB found me (not knowing how many pills I took, not knowing about the AMOUNT of Samba in my system) and brought me to bed.

The second one was last May. And that was the most real one. Because it was a decision made sober, and it was the closest I've ever gotten to death it felt.

Stuff happened and I thought. I stopped for a minute and thought. I weighed out the options. Then I took a deep breath and was like, "Okay. This is it. Today, I kill myself."

The reason the tub scene in the show triggered me so much was because it was exactly what I did in May.

I cleaned up some shit, I put on some old clothes I didn't care about, I filled the tub, I looked in the mirror at myself, making sure that it was the right decision...

The only difference was that I didn't have a new box of razor blades. I had an old razor head that I broke apart to get to one of the teeny tiny blades. That's probably why I'm still here honestly. Because, even though I was using a small blade, even though it was dull as fuck... those cuts were big, and I lost a lot of blood. The water was fucking black.

Anyway...

Since that attempt, things have been different. It's weird waking up the next morning after an attempt like that. It's weirder going outside the apartment for the first time after.
The amount of emptiness you feel is astounding.
I remember it so clearly.

I had to go drop off the keys at Le Chateau because I was fired for not going to work... because I was trying to kill myself lol
It was such a sunny day.
BB was driving because I was really not present, I swear to god.
I was wearing black baggy pants, and a navy blue button up to cover my arms. It was like +20 degrees Celsius btw... yet I felt no warmth.

We were driving and BB was trying to make me smile. He was playing "Hotel California", a favourite of ours. He put down the windows and opened the sun roof. He wiggle-danced away and sang out of tune... trying to make me smile.

I was curled up in my seat; hugging my knees; peeking out the window at the world in front of me.

The world was still going on. How could this be? I was so confused. So broken. So fucking empty...

Did you know I had to clean up my own blood from the bathroom? I mean... no one else should've had to but still... it's a weird sensation.

I haven't taken a bath since then. And bath tubs make me uneasy, I don't trust myself around them.

I can't watch tv shows with too much blood anymore, I can't watch someone be cut open.

Even when I cut myself now a days, I get triggered by the blood. I start to panic and start to feel dizzy. I start dissociating... it's fucking weird.

So when Hannah was sat in the tub. My heart started pounding.
I lived that moment. The moment just before you begin... there's so much built up inside of you... you're going to do this... this is the exact spot where you're going to die.

And then she cut the first time.

So fucking deep. Length-wise like you're supposed to do.
She winced in pain and the blood poured out rushed to the surface, pouring out.
But she didn't stop.
She cut again beside it.
Just as deep.

That's where I turned it off.
I just couldn't watch myself in that fucking bath tub.
It was too painful.
I felt like I was there.
I felt everything I felt last year...


The show is poorly written; yes.
But it does provide education.

Which is terrible, because no one should have to be educated about suicide.
The world shouldn't be how it is.

No one should know how to fucking kill themselves. Because no one should want to kill themselves.
No one should know what it's liked to be raped. Because no one should be raped.
These things shouldn't fucking exist and it hurts my heart so goddamn much.

I am scarred from myself. I am triggered from the show.

I've never seen such real scenes before... I wish I didn't.

I wish I didn't watch this show.
It wasn't good for me.

It just wasn't.

- Mint.

I just wanted to say that I think I'm getting over BB.

I think about him way less often, and only when I'm really sad do I feel like I "need" him. But even then, I know it's not him I need because he sucks lol he's not who I build him up to be.

So yeah, just an update.

- Mint.

Dial 1-800-Cyanide line.

Hi!

This is a three part post:

PART 1

I'm still here!

I've found that when I'm alone, my depression skyrockets. But if I'm with someone, it's muted.

That being said, this week has been better.

However, the past few mornings, a collections company has been harassing my mom in regards to a situation I put myself in aboutttttt, 3 years ago.

That one time I was delivering drugs to the stupid guy I gave my virginity to. That one time I parked just a tad too quick and scratched his car a little bit. LOL

THIS IS WHAT THE MATTER IS REGARDING.

I SCRATCHED A DUDE'S CAR LIGHTLY, AND THEN GAVE HIM FREE DRUGS. AND HE HAS THE NERVE TO CALL THE INSURANCE COMPANY ON ME?

So stupid...

Anyway, every time they call it ruins my day. It ignites the fiery pit of anxiety that I have in my stomach, and it doesn't burn out for hours. Their calls make me want to go to my room and slit my throat. I have to actively tell myself not to. I just want to escape so fucking badly...

I haven't felt this trapped in a long time.

PART 2

I'm feeling rather conflicted lately.
I'm doing things and thinking things and creating things that I'm really liking.
I'm listening to music I'm digging. I'm talking and acting in a way I'm enjoying.

But I feel bad because I feel like I'm projecting a person I'm not? Like, I'm feeling as if I'm acting fake, while at the same time I feel so me. Like more me than I've ever been.
How is that possible?
I feel like a wannabe lmao but I'm not "wanting-to-be" anything.

Here, I'll give you an example...

As I'm working on my art, I've been listening to hip hop/rap/and like, idk, "chill trap"? This is different because I normally only listen to indie, like: Oh Wonder, Vance Joy, and Lana Del Rey.

The vibe I'm working with is like really relaxed, summer hazed beats. Like... you're driving around LA and the sun is just starting to fall and the city is flipping from day to night mindset... and it's a Friday and you have plans to go out to a dope club and you're low-key excited. And there's good smells of BBQ in the air. And you're driving the cheapest, shittiest, red convertible you could get your hands on, your hair is swirling around like it's under water and there are gold highlights sparkling within it. You're listening to the radio and all the good songs are playing. You feel a tinge of nostalgia but it's in the background, and it's not making you feel sad. You're balanced, you're grounded. You feel all euphoric and free and everything's right in the world.

That's what I'm trying to produce in my art; I'm trying to recreate the sun flare that's in the image I just described.

Examples of the feel would be found in 1 800 Suicide (Gravediggaz), Xxplosive (Dr. Dre), and Alfa Romero (AG & Ray West).

Anyway, long story short, I'm obsessed with this feeling. Like... obSESSED. I want to bathe in these waves, I want to smoke the colours they bleed, I want BE the beat.

But I stand back and I'm like, Mint! You are literally the whitest girl in the world. Last year you didn't even know what a "whip" was. You had to ask what "the trap" was. LOL LIKE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I'M SAYING?

I feel dumb but I can't help it... it's oozing out of every pore on my body. I'm wearing Adidas with tights and long shirts as dresses, men's oversized button-ups and black baseball caps.

Hobo-hoe: 90s grunge meets a Parisian hooker from the 60s.

**I tried to make a mood board explaining it**

I just wish that I knew whether or not this is like... a part of me, or something I've just picked up and am trying to morph into; an unstable self-image is a symptom of BPD, so it's hard to tell what's real and what's not when it comes to my definition of who I feel I am.

Ugh, I don't even know how to explain what I'm trying to explain.

I want to live within the movie of Spring Breakers. That's the closest to anything I can think of right now; a gangsta sweetheart. LANA DEL REY. Fuck, I wish I could explain it...

PART 3

My creativity is coming out in fragments; not in like a bad way. It's just I get little snippets in my head of what I want to create but it's undeveloped and I sometimes get stuck. Or I have a grand idea and don't know how to execute it. But I'm working on it, and I think that's pretty cool.

Everything's coming together and I'm forming a brand within my head and it's weird.

For example, my poems have been fragments, not fully formed. I'll have like two lines, and that's it. Because of this, I can do a lot with it if you think about it.

I can take this one line and develop it into lyrics of a song, or grow it into a fully formed poem. Or, I could take the one-liner and put it on a shirt, with an image I painted behind it. Or, I could take the idea within the fragment, and translate it into an image. The image could be abstract, to express the feeling within the line. Or it could express the sound the line would have as a song. Do you get what I'm saying?

I'm getting fragments in the forms of feelings, words, colours, and sounds.

I really enjoy it, but sometimes it's overwhelming because you just end up in a sea of emotions. Half the time I feel high because of the colours blending in my brain; like I'm in a dream somewhere else.

My goal is to take these feelings and make something tangible out of them; so others can feel it too, you know? I guess that's what art is in a nutshell lol

My notebooks, sketch books, iPad/iPhone notes, desktop and mind are all filled with these tiny pieces. It's like someone took a dozen puzzles and dumped all the pieces into one big pile. It's my job to sort through them and put them back together, without knowing what any of the puzzles are supposed to look like. It's exhausting!!

BUT, it's a project. And I'm really enjoying the progression I've been making with it. I can feel my mind thinking differently. I can feel my creativity taking over, finally being able to breathe deep, meaningful breaths.

So weird how one can be so sad, but so mellow at the same time.

- Mint.

Please don't think less of me.

These past (almost) two weeks I've been busy frantically creating.

I decided I want a life where I'm my own boss or some shit? I can't remember, I've just been making crap with the hopes of selling it.

Anyway, I think it was all just a mini manic phase because yesterday, for seemingly no reason at all, I fell into a huuuuge fucking pit of despair.

I feel so fucking numb it's annoying.

I hate BB. I hate that I met him so that my mind can think about him; and I hate how he can manipulate me without even being fucking present. I hate the feeling of happiness because it's always followed with disappointment, embarrassment, loneliness, resentment, and all the negative emotions that I really don't need to list.

The one thing he was good at though was grounding me.

When I was with him, I never binged and rarely did I ever slip up and self-harm.

When I was with him I made sure I was human, I made sure I looked after myself, I made sure to go outside of my comfort zone.

All of that is shit without him.

I'm angry because I'm fucking fat. Because my mother is a goddamn fucking Italian wind-sign who has no structure.

I feel so... out of control.

Which is weird and petty of me to say because I have a really easy life, and I'm really lucky to have such a caring and understanding mother, but FUCK.

BB is an earth sign and he's grounded as fuck. Instead of snacking all day like my mother, he would have actual MEALS. So that meant there was no snack food. OR, if there was, he would make it last and he would make sure I didn't fucking devour it all.

He was always there, and would sit me down and have these talks with me when I was getting too sad, or if I was getting worked up and angry he would just hold me until I calmed down.

Here, I'm on my fucking own. I have no one I can talk to without feeling like I'm an annoying self-centred brat who only cares about themselves. I feel stupid saying the same things over and over, knowing full well what I need to do to fix my problems, but also at the same time, knowing I don't have the ability/strength to fix them.

BB is a jerk and I fucking hate him, but at least I wasn't fat, and at least I had a reason not to cut when I was with him.

Yes, cut. Last night I found out that the reason I was only able to make stupid tiny kitty-cat scratches was because I was using an incredibly dull blade. I found this out when I found a new blade and tried it the fuck out. It makes me feel a little better... which I know is stupid; but when one self-harms and ends up with tiny "nothings", one feels pathetic and weak.

But nowwwwwww, I'm back in business. Which is bad, because I'm numb, and when you're numb and don't care about anything, it makes it hard to stop.

I just kept going and going (cutting really puts you in a trance), but then I'd pull out of it and get scared of myself because all I could smell was blood after awhile, and I have to be careful not to get too crazy. I can't just hack away anywhere; I need to be careful with placement.

I still haven't cut too, too deep though; just deep enough now where the blood takes awhile to fill up the opening, you know?

A stupid thing I did though was make 10 tiny cuts on my wrist; like, on the sides of it.

I don't really know why, I think I did it because I was trigger happy in a sense, I just wanted to go ham. I really did.

BUT, it was dumb because now I have to hide them.

Another reason as to why I'm unhappy living with my mother is because I've gotta stay alive.

I would never want my mom to be the one to find me dead. I wouldn't want to be "under her care" (so to speak) at the time of me killing myself. It's quite annoying really.

At least with BB it was obviously his fault for pushing me over the edge. That doesn't sound nice but I mean it's true in a sense. Last May was because I found out that everything was a lie and that I was exactly all the bad things I always thought I was, and that BB was only using me, and that I'm an unlovable piece of shit. So why stay present when you find out that the person you love more than ANYTHING in this whole entire fucking WORLD, is cheating on you and doesn't give a fuck? Well, if you're me, the answer is, "suicide".

Like, there's an actual "reason" for it. As opposed to me being here, seemingly not having a care in the fucking world, you know? Why the fuck would I want to kill myself while living here? Other than  the classic, stereo-typical answers from outside by-standers such as: selfish, self-centred, attention-seeking, idiot.

There's no reason. So if I were to die, it'd need to be an accident that I openly took, or I'd have to not be living under this roof.

It's stupid, I'm stupid, I know.

ANYWAY, long story short:

I'm fat, I'm self-harming, I'm numb, I'm sad, I'm past the manic phase, I'm lonely, I'm dreaming of suicide, I hate BB, and I hate myself.

xxx

💕 kisses! 💕

✌🏻✌🏻

- Mint.

I need advice from a caterpillar.

Yesterday wasn't good, like at all. And today isn't any better.

My mother still won't talk to me.

BB still won't talk to me.

Everyone is too busy with their lives to talk to me.

And I really need to talk to someone.

Last night I had a scary violent dream involving BB and oddly enough, my dad? BB was getting mad at me and throwing my stuff around like he used to do in the apartment. He was yelling and I was telling him to leave but he wouldn't. My dad would pop up every now and then wanting to intervene but I kept pushing him away.

Eventually BB was trying to break down a door just out of anger, but my dad popped up again and was like CRAZY mad. Like scary crazy mad, and he ripped the fucking WALL in half??? And he was like spitting and had crazy eyes and was like, "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT? IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?!" to BB and both BB and I were like whaaaaaat the fuck.

I don't know it was weird. And then there was a scary part that kept repeating itself where this little girl would walk to this door that was on the floor (led to a basement), spin in a circle while putting on ballet flats and then turn into a fairy while saying, "I'm ____ of the fae" (I can't remember her name). But the last time she did it she was like fighting with herself. She was like, "I'm ____ of the fae... No, I'M ____ of the fae. Nooo, I'm ____ of the faeeeEeeEeEEEee..."

She was spinning and spinning and laughing manically, unable to put on her shoes. It reminded me of when I experienced psychosis in the bathtub last May. It's scared me so much I woke up.

I was so afraid all last night that I'd end up hurting myself. I painted and drew and wrote until I was completely exhausted. I even put on a meditation to help me get to sleep... but I felt afraid in my forest and kept hiding behind trees like a child who hides behind their mother.

Anyway, when I awoke from the dream I was like, kay I need to not be by myself, I'm too scared to be by myself.

So I do what I normally do when I have a bad dream whilst at my mother's, I go sleep in her bed.

Normally I stand at the door and call to her until she wakes up, because if I just go in she wakes up and sees a person there and freaks the fuck out.

So I call and call and she's not answering. I don't hear my dog in there either so I'm like, huh maybe she's sleeping on the couch? So I go to the living room, calling her and she's not there. I start to get worried and go to her room again calling with more haste and honestly, just a bit frantic.

I end up just barging in and she wakes up and asks if I had a bad dream and I start bawling and hyperventilating because I thought she left because she was mad at me.

What the fuck Mint? Like, why would that even be a thing. In this moment I realized that I may or may not have some abandonment issues lol and also that I really need some fucking attention.

I woke up this morning and mom's already up and still won't talk to me. I'll say something, and she ignores me completely. Won't even look at me.

My mood just keeps getting lower and lower today. I feel like I've messed my entire life up and no one likes me and I'm annoying and needy and embarrassing and no one's proud of me and no one wants to even know me. I wish I didn't exist.

Mom left about an hour ago I guess. I started crying because I knew that I was going to end up cutting. I couldn't fight it any longer.

I tried to fight it. I really did. I almost phoned my mom because I was afraid of myself. But whatever. I was close to suicidal, but I didn't cut to kill. So it's all okay.

I feel better now. Calmer... numb. Empty, yeah, but at least I'm numb.

I don't know who I am or what I need. It's very annoying.

You know, BB and I had our problems but he definitely grounded me. I never binged while with him, cut only like 3 times in 3 years, hardly had bad dreams... I wish it could work. I know it can't but I can still wish it did.

"You!" said the Caterpillar contemptuously, "Who are you?"

- Mint.

You are my yellow paint.

I hate everything.

SO, I went out last night.

It was supposed to be PERFECT. I spent ALL DAY getting ready. ALL. DAY.

I wore a super hot outfit, I learnt how to do the smoky goddamn eye, I bought tequila, I made sure to NOT drink too early, I wore heals, I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT.

I WAS GONNA GET THE D.

Long story short, I did not get the d...

I got the d as in "drunk-ass-fuck-mother-fucker-who-forgot-that-you're-not-supposed-to-mix-liquor-with-your-medication-and-that-it's-a-definite-no-go-when-you-have-no-cocaine-in-your-system-to-balance-it-out-and-no-food-either". I got that kind of d times 10.

I HAD A FULL FUCKING BACHELOR PARTY BUYING ME DRINKS AND INVITING ME TO THEIR AFTER PARTY. Goddamnit.

This all happened because of fucking love. Fuck love. I hate love. Love fucked me up.

If I hadn't fallen in love do you know where I could BE right now?

I can't get him out of my fucking head. Nothing is better than him. Nobody is funnier, sweeter, cuter, comfier... than him.

I start drinking and all I want is to drink more and more and more until I pass the fuck out so I can escape the thought of him, even though he's always in my fucking dreams too.

The other day he said he had a dream that we had sex together in this bed that was in the middle of the ocean.

The other day he told me about how Morgan Freeman's daughter has the same name as me, and I said my name is still better than hers, and he said, "it sure is".

The other day he called me "hun".

NOW, he won't talk to me at all. At all.

I've had Noah Cyrus', "Make me (cry)" stuck in my head for three days straight.

I don't get it.

I think I'm fine and then a stupid incident like this happens and I'm all in pieces again. I think I'm fine and then suddenly I'm actively trying to find a way to "accidentally" kill myself; because I don't give a shit. I don't give a shit about any fucking thing.

With him gone, I've totally reverted back to who I was before, except worse. Because NOW, I know what it's like to have him. NOW, I know what he's put me through. NOW, I know what it's like to have love, and to have lost love.

I hate him. I hate him. I fucking hate him.

"You're in my veins, you fuck."

Love is the worst thing in the world. I wish I could forget that it exists. But at the same time I'm conflicted with the fact that it's the only thing worth living for. Like, nothing is better than having somebody by your side. Nothing is better than living with your best friend. Than waking up to hugs and kisses, than being held when you cry, than having someone tell you it's all right when you wake up from a bad dream... THIS is a bad dream. I know it'll pass (this feeling that is), I know it'll "get better". But looking at my track record, it's hard to imagine anything getting "better".

Not only because my life sucks, but because I crave destruction.

Whenever I feel myself getting better, it makes me sad and makes me feel like I'm boring and unoriginal and petty. How does that make sense? It doesn't.

Yesterday I watched this video that talked about an experiment that A.E. Fisher conducted with puppies. Basically revealing the fact that mental uncertainty plays a huge role within attachment, and love as a whole.

It's not healthy, it's not how it should be, but it's how it is. Puppies shown only love, or only hate, didn't love the researchers as much as the puppies who were unsure as to what they were going to receive at any given moment.

People don't fall in love with abusive people. That's just not how it works. It's always a relationship that's really good and really bad at the same time that makes people come back, even when they know they shouldn't. I think that that's why it's harder for people to get over these types of relationships. It's an addiction to some weird concoction of painful bliss.

Ugh... I hate myself.

But I hate BB more.
I hate that I love the stupid fuck.

. . .

Wellbutrin + Cipralex.

Okay so I think I'm going to have to come off of my pills...

I've been on Wellbutrin for a year now and loveeeeeee it. It made me lose a SHIT TON of weight, it gives me energy, and makes it easier to get out of a depression period.

However, it's always given me mad anxiety and it's been getting progressively worse; like paranoia, and jumping at the slightest of sounds. It's also the culprit of the dissociation stuff, and makes me dizzy constantly.

What I didn't notice though was that it's also making me fucking old. OLD!!!

I thought it was stress wearing my face down but yesterday I was like, "Wait, ALL my skin is feeling loose and thin and saggy and OMG WTF."

So I googled it and yeah, antidepressants can make you look SEVEN YEARS OLDER. For someone who is extremely concerned about being 23, looking 30 IS NOT VERY HELPFUL WITH THE WHOLE, "NOT WANTING TO KILL MYSELF" DILEMMA I FACE ON THE DAILY.

Since Wellbutrin is used as a way to quit smoking I can kindaaaaa see how it could make your face look like it's smoked a pack a day for 30 years. It travels the same way nicotine travels and it has the same effects.

I don't want to go into the science of it because I'd have to google it all over again to get the right terms, but just know, it's legit.

THE WORST PART though is that I can't find anything ANYWHERE saying whether or not my skin will go back to normal after quitting these mother fuckers.

I'm afraid to quit them because I know I'll gain weight, and I reallllllllly don't want to gain weight AND have the face of a 30 year old, nuh-uh.

Another reason for needing to quit Wellbutrin is that the anxiety (like I said) is becoming out of control. I went to the doctor's last Tuesday though, and he gave me Cipralex to take the edge off (which it's definitely doing), BUUUUT I googled it and it makes a lot of people gain weight. Also, the withdrawal symptoms for SSRIs are super harsh apparently, and with some people they can last YEARS.

I don't want that either, nuh-uh nuh-uh.

I'm freaking outtttttt. I'd like to have my head back to normal, but I don't want weight gain, and I'm afraid that I've fucked up my skin forever. Does anyone know anything about this? I know the skin thing is a pretty rare side effect but pah-leaseeeee share any intel you have!

♥︎,

Mint.

To be, or not to be.

Sometimes being given time to reflect is a very bad thing.

In my case, it leads to overthinking. Overthinking to the point where my mind is running a track. The same thoughts, over and over. But! After a lap is completed, the track shrinks into a slightly tighter circle, so it takes less time to run. It keeps shrinking smaller and smaller and smaller until I'm just spinning the fuck around on my toes. I pass out, and when I wake up the track is back to normal size. I get up and start running again...

This has been my way of thinking since high school at least. This is why I never do anything. I never know what I actually think about anything, my opinion changes daily. I argue everything so well on each side that I can never make a decision.

I hate it. I don't know what to do with my life. I don't know how to make money. I'm afraid to do anything and everything and people scare me and I'm afraid to exist and I'd like to dissipate please and thank you.

Also, I think I'm over wanting to work in fashion, and I think I'm over wanting to move to Vancouver. The only thing I like about Vancouver is the ocean. That's literally it.

And what would I do in fashion anyway? Well like there's a shit ton of options but I mean, the fashion industry as a whole is very superficial. YES, there is a small, smalllll niche you could get into where you'd work with people who understand it as an art and appreciate it in that style as well. But mostly you're going to be with cocky motherfuckers who come up with random aesthetic ideas because it's "trendy". I'd be working with people who live off of networking, people who backstab, people who only care about names (I'm terrible with names), and all that good shit. I'm not feeling it.

I'd really like to write a book. B wants to write a children's book and I'd love to be a part of it. Her and I are great at working together, bouncing ideas off of each other and shit.

But on top of that I'd really like to get my poetry published. Which is like, RIDICULOUS to talk about. I mean, poetry is a hard thing to live off of.

I could put it all together in a book, but I was also thinking of different ways to present it such as the way I did with the "Breathe Deeply // Breathe deep" post I did there. Mix photography with it, print it out on posters. Make the poetry part of an art exhibit, put it in paintings.

Again, hard to live off of, but I'm thinking here.

If I were to actually want creative writing and fine/graphic arts to be my livelihood, I'd need to go to school. Like most definitely. Because, I'd need connections, I'd need to immerse myself in it entirely, I'd need my mind to expand and be one with the universe.

Which I think I could do, the mind thing that is. Because I can feel my brain understanding things on an abstract level. Like it's understanding things without explanation, and explaining things to me without explanation too... you know?

Anyway... the problem with school is that:

1. I'd have to get in. Meaning make a portfolio, and beat a gazillion other way better people who are applying for the same thing.
2. I'd actually have to ATTEND school. Meaning, getting over a lot of crippling anxiety.
3. I'd have to wait ANOTHER FUCKING YEAR TO FUCKING DO ANYTHING BECAUSE I MISSED THE DEADLINE TO START IN SEPTEMBER OBVIOUSLY.

I guess in the meantime I could just try to get my shit together. Start taking photos, start painting more, make sure I write daily, make mini projects, learn about graphic design...

Ugh why couldn't I just have wanted to be a dental hygienist or some shit like that... It'd be so much easier!!

- Mint.

Breathe deeply // Breathe deep

B O O M.

J is a romantic rolla coasta, he don't do anything he's suppos'ta.

Oh another thing I want to mention was that the other day mom and I went and did the EXACT same hike that I did with my old roomie 3 years ago.

You know, the hike that inspired THIS gorgeous post.

I just reread it and it still makes me laugh really hard; I'm hilarious.

Anyway, we pull up to this fucking BITCH of a mountain, get out and hike up the first little bitch of a mountain required to get to the ACTUAL fucking bitch of a mountain.

I swear to god I was having war flashbacks. I've never been so afraid of a rock before.

This time around though, it wasn't +99 degree celsius, which was the first positive of it all!

However, this is February, and this is Canada. So there's this thing called ICE.

Want to know some things that don't go well together? Mint and hikes. Mint and ice. Mint and mountains. Mountains and ice. Hikes and ice. Mint going up an icy fucking mountain.

Why did I let my mother bring me here? WHY, PRAY TELL DID I THINK THIS WOULD BE FINE???

In all honesty though, it wasn't that bad hahaha still steep as FUCK, and really scary to walk up due to all the slippery ice, but not that bad.

We even found out that there's a SERVICE ROAD one could walk up/down. Said service road is at a lovely NORMAL PERSON angle, and had literally ZERO ice on it. Why did no one fucking tell me about this beautiful fact???? HMMM?????

But yes, all in all, not a traumatizing experience. I'm sorry for the disappointment hahaha


I just got home from a walk with mom actually. It was waaaay worse than the mountain. It was flat ground, but alllllllllll ice. It was like a curling rink or some shit. It was a terrible hour.

The worst part was that at the beginning of the walk I got all dizzy and dissociative again! LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS? THIS IS VERY ANNOYING.

One should not be tripping when one is sober. It's not fair or fun. I think I'm going to the walk-in clinic on Tuesday to get checked out. Maybe I'm dying, that'd be cool. Maybe I'll get some fun pills, that'd be cooler honestly. When did I fall in love with pills? I have no idea.

It's around 6:00pm now and I've been paying attention to my moods throughout the day. And I gotta say it's fucked.

I wake up, depressed. Get coffee, feeling good. Find out Lana released an album and feels GREAT. Goes for short walk with mom, gets INSANELY depressed again (close to last night kinda low). Gets home, reads old post, feels happy again. Writes this post, feels melancholy.

Is it normal to have a roller coaster of emotions? Like a fast loop-di-loop one?

My head is still really spacey from earlier, and I'm exhausted from the episode as well. *sigh* I'm so hopeless and pathetic.

Now I'm depressed again.

- Mint.

It's enough to be young and in love, don't worry baby.

I'm sorry for last night.

That was stupid. I'm not going to hurt myself. I don't know why I did that. I'm an idiot.

And I feel like I've been writing way too much which is weird because I was searching forever for words it seemed, and now I just can't shut up!

I'm very idealistic of suicide yes, but I don't think I'm going to do anything. I mean, THANK GOD I'm here because LANA DEL REY RELEASED A NEW SINGLE AND I AM LIVINGGGGGG

Literally so happy right now lol she is my everything. I wish I was her, she's so cool. All I listen to is Lana really; she's queen. I'm sure you knew that lol the amount of times I've quoted her songs in posts or made the titles her lyrics is a lot. I mean the titles of the two posts from last night are both from "Hundred Dollar Bill".

ANYWAY,  she released this single called "Love", how ironic. I love it, even more ironic.

I love the promotional poster for it the best though. It's GORGEOUS.

I hope this means she's got an album coming. I'm not very on top of things when it comes to artists and release dates and shit.

On another note, I keep writing lyrics. It's really weird, because I've never written any lyrics before in my LIFE. I might share the newest ones on here again or tumblr, idk yet. I also want to make a jazzy cover of "Extra" by 2 Chainz LOL DON'T ASK ME WHY, I have no idea, I'm the whitest kid on the block; It's just that I've been having BB's rap music on my mind. Which is weird too because he hardly ever listens to rap anymore; he's more of an old rock kind of guy now.

I also wrote a sassy set of lyrics last night apparently. Like, at 2 in the morning. I didn't remember it until I opened the notes app on my iPad. It's an angry set of lyrics LOL and classic drunk Mint too, meaning, I used the word "y'all"... a lot... 😓

I never use the word "y'all" so I don't know why the fuck it comes out when I drink. I also sometimes slip into an English accent when intoxicated. I don't know who I am apparently.

♥︎,

Mint.

You turn my mood from black to blue.

I wrote this an hour ago... I don't know if this is how I feel but I'm posting it for journal reasons:

"I feel like a doll that people were trying to prop up and I kept swaying... side, to side... but now whoever was trying gave up... and I'm just lying here with concrete on my cheek and knots in my hair... missing a shoe perhaps?

I want to die.
I wish I wasn't here.
There's no point.
I'm useless and a nuisance and I can't do anything to get out of this hole I've dug. I've got so many issues now... I can't even PRETEND to be normal. I can't ever PRETEND to be happy. I can't fake a fucking smile.

I don't want to be here. I want to die.

This is why I stayed with BB even though I knew we shouldn't stay together. He gave me purpose to breathe; even if we were in a bad spot, at least we were in it together.

Before BB I wanted to die; after BB I want to die.

With BB I wanted to die... LESS.

It's not fair to him for me to go back though. He deserves someone who wants the same things as he does. I already wasted so much of his time. I feel so bad.

I wish I wanted what he wanted. I really do. I wish I never left in July... who knows where we'd be? I wish I could talk about that period of time with him... there's so many things I can't talk about because of judgement or because it's too heavy for peoples' ears.

Why were we both so manic those last couple of months? I think back and my brain gets scared and stops me. The thoughts that manage to seep through are crazy and don't seem real. Everything was too vivid but such a short memory, a flash.

I don't even want to write about it, it'd get too long, it'd hurt too much.

Just know, that right here in this moment, I've already cut a little bit. I found a dull box cutter and made just a few cat scratches on my upper thigh, well 18 to be exact.

Just know that at some point I'm going to get something sharper, and I'm going to cut a lot deeper like I used to.

I don't want to feel things right now, it's too much. I'm going to mask everything with physical pain. I'm going to go until I'm numb like I used to be... nice and numb... I shouldn't have opened up the way I did. I'm a fucking idiot.

"Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody..."

I know people my age will be tell me to grow the fuck up. Once you turn 22, people don't care about self-harm the same way. Younger than 22, it's all tragic and people say, "OMG come talk to me!! I love you!" but after that point, people literally have asked me what the fuck am I doing even THINKING about it. Like, am I stupid? Grow the fuck up, it's time to be an adult.
They look down on me and stop talking to me; they leave me in the dust it feels... but I don't blame them. It's not their fault that I find everything too hard. Not their fault that they couldn't pep up a weak contestant... because they ended up stopping for a mentally unstable piece of shit to CARRY, drag at their side... I'd run too bitch.

I was told that I didn't die in that bathtub because last year because I secretly wanted to live; meaning it was all for attention or that I'm too weak/stupid/pathetic to go through with suicide...

Do you know how shameful that is? I wish I had just kept my stupid fucking mouth shut. I wish I had kept wearing sweats in the summer and kept my stupid fucking smile on my face... because once I took it off, I couldn't seem to find where the fuck I left it.

I want to talk to BB but I know he's no relief. No one is relief. Everyone has lives... I used to have a life. Now I have nothing. I'm so stuck. I don't need help, I just need a shit ton of pills, please.

Booze makes me sleepy and sad; I want drugs goddamn it.

I wish I was prettier and better at sex... because then I'd have at least stupid boys around me, or I could sell myself, and have stories for youtube or something. I'm ugly though and BB told me I was bad at sex back in June of 2014, so I stopped trying because I didn't know what to do...

But in my defence, I had only done it a handful of times whilst incredibly drunk. BB is my first and only sober fuck...

I'm so embarrassing... I wish I had died already. Making it past 19 was definitely a mistake on my part, I gotta say...

I can't even manage to send B her fucking Christmas present, and it's almost 2 complete months into the calendar year...

I'm sorry B if you're reading this, I really am!!! I had the best intentions. I shouldn't have told you about it if I couldn't manage to send the damn fucking thing...

Ps. I just wanna say that I hate when people say it's selfish; suicide that is... I mean it's the person's life. They should be able to control their own waking hours? Yes, it affects those around them, but only because of how society has built up death. Death in all honesty isn't a big deal... I think it's selfish to make someone continue a life they can't move forward in... idk that's my thoughts..."

Since writing that, BB texted me. He texted me 2 days after the original breakup asking what I had of his, then 2 days after that replied to me with "K", and then today, texted with an actual mini conversation about sending me my things...

I broke the dull part of the blade off and hid it under my mattress until I can stuff it into an empty garbage bag. I cut a little more and goddamn is that shit addictive... I feel like I felt back in uni... a little bit deeper, a little deeper, no not good enough...

I'm drunk also, maybe I should note that... I started drinking at aroundddd 4:30? Now as I finish proof-reading this all it's midnight, 12:01. It only takes me one drink to get drunk with my medication though, so keep that in mind...

I still stand by everything I said though. I feel a little better, I mean I was crying when I wrote that stuff originally, now I'm not; but I still agree with the fact that I wish I was dead.

Oh life...

Nuthin's more gorgeous than a hundred dolla bill...

Nothing is the same anymore and I hate it.

I can't tell if it's due to literally NOTHING happening in my life, or due to the fact that I actually miss the past.

I know shit is different regardless, but I'm just wondering how much it's actually affecting me...

I don't know.

If I could go back two and a half years I would. Even though I was sad and thought that everything sucked, I was happy and much more vibrant back then. I had friends, I went out, I bought shit...

I'm literally stuck here doing NOTHING and no one will fucking hire me and I don't know what to do to get out of this anxious rut since all that I've been surrounded by for the past year almost is ISOLATION...

It's so sad when your 53 year old mom has a 200% more energetic social life than you when you're "only" 23. 23... ugh, I'd rather be dead.

I didn't think I'd make it out of my teens. But then I turned 20 and had an awesome year. Like an AMAZING year. But then nothing really happened. Like ENOUGH happened for me to feel okay, but I didn't get to live the two best years of my life... and now I'm here.

The city I live in is owned by people the age of 19-21, so I feel older than I should.

I wish I could die.

I wish I wasn't afraid of everything. I used to be afraid of NOTHING. I worked at it, but I eventually had no fear within me...

I wish I had a release.

I don't know... I've been officially single for almost a week. BB and I ended it on like melancholic terms. It fizzled out. And because it fizzled, I feel like it's real. Because our relationship is nothing even close to fizzle... so yeah.

I was lonely while with him long-distance, so I figured that it was a sign that we should take advantage of the numbness and disperse now.

But, feeling the way I do right now, if I could get remotely close to feeling how I used to by being in a boring fucking relationship, I would.

Now that's when you know that death is a better option...

I've been having fantasies of self-harm lately too. I miss when I could release emotions through slices in my skin. It was calmer, and fuzzier, and I don't know... no one would know that I did it, IF I did it. What would it matter to anyone? Another line on an already ruined canvas...

 Just thoughts.

- Mint.

You didn't feel loved, love.

I wrote some lyrics apparently. It started as a poem and then I ended up with this a couple hours later...

Kinda made up, kinda not? There's a lot of cute little nods in there to my time spent with BB in the city, I think that's why I like it.

"Brava! Brava!"

I'll post something normal I swear, it's just that I keep getting distracted with other topics!

Goodnight, sweet dreams! 💋

- Mint.

Baby, don't hurt me.

I am shook.

LOOOL

But seriously though, let's begin:


If you know me in real life you probably know I have a slight addiction to youtube. I'm not "deep" into it, but I am subscribed to a lot of 1 million plus content creators and watch it like every day.

Due to the fact that I've been watching some channels religiously since 2009, I've watched a lot of people grow up in a way.

Specifically, youtube's first family, the Shaytards.

For those of you who don't know, "Shaytards" is a vlog channel that Shay Carl Butler started back in October of 2008. Originally, Shay stated that the channel was to do whatever he wanted with, as opposed to his first channel, "shaycarl" which was meant for sketch comedy. In the beginning, Shay posted videos that he recorded while working as a radio DJ, videos regarding his diet, and other random snippets from his life. But on March 5th 2009, he began a project where he committed to blogging everyday, the last year of his 20s.

Within this year we got to know the whole family; Shay, Colette (then named Katilette or mommytard), and their three kids: Gavin (sontard), Avia (princesstard), and Emmi (babytard). The extended family is also online, but don't really need to be discussed right now.

Fast forward almost 8 years of vlogging and here we are.

Shay lost over 100 pounds, ran multiple marathons; the family moved to California, back to Idaho, back to California, and back to Idaho; created a company with some internet friends, sold the company to Disney for like $500 million; had another son, Brock (rocktard) and then another son after that, Daxton (brotard); lost their dog Malachi, got a new dog, Zeke, found another dog, Blondie; made a documentary; released music videos; wrote a book; made a clothing company; bought a fucking mountain; created their dream home; etc. etc. etc!

Growing up lonely, this was my family. They made me laugh, they made me cry, and they encouraged me to keep going.

Shay and Colette were my picture of true love. The story was that Shay first saw Colette perform in a play, and the moment he saw her he told the friend that he was with that he was going to marry her. AND HE PURSUED HER AND MARRIED HER AND THEY WENT THROUGH TOUGH TIMES TOGETHER AND RAISED ADORABLE KIDS AND IT WAS BEAUTIFUL.

On June 20th, 2016 Shay opened up about his struggle with alcoholism on his and Colette's podcast, "When The Kids Go To Sleep". This was a big deal because him and his family are all Mormon, meaning they're supposed to abstain from drinking. It's also a big deal because when a person vlogs, people begin to feel like they knowwwww them. So finding something like that out makes people feel betrayed.

Personally, I suspected it. I've been watching since like May 2009 and was like, there is NO way this dude didn't go to all these parties where everyone is TRASHED and just like, somehow magically end up with a very red face and a volume 3 notches higher than normal. No way.

But I still appreciated him and Colette opening up about it, and showing vulnerability on the web. Especially since I have some family members that fight with substance/alcohol abuse. The further the vlogs progressed, the more real they seemed to become. More human.

BUT WHAT HAS RECENTLY COME TO LIGHT IS DIFFERENT. MUCH DIFFERENT.

Apparently, Shay Carl is a dirty little cheater. And I mean dirty.

I won't go into details because it's been written about/talked about like a million times already. But basically, this adult cam girl named Aria Nina tweeted screen caps of some extremely sexual DMs that she received from Shay (which are now deleted). This happen on SUNDAY aka two fucking days from Valentine's day.

This was the most helpful video I found regarding the matter, and unlike other articles/videos regarded the matter, it actually includes the screen caps Aria had posted on twitter, and damn I was not expecting to read what I read.

The one part that made me laugh was when he said that she'd be riding/straddling his beard LOOOL LIKE EWWWWW GRODYYYYYY, BEARDTARD SICK MANNNNN.

Aria apparently has videos of him beating it too which is a very disturbing image, I must admit.

After all these allegations Shay posted a letter onto twitter saying that he's been struggling the past three months and had started drinking again. He said his main focus right now is rehab and that he'll be staying away from the internet (obviously).

This scandal broke my heart. I mean, I know how shitty I felt when I found/read the messages of BB cheating on me. It makes you feel mad, sad, hurt, uncomfortable, betrayed, lost, confused, hopeless, all the bad feelings pretty much. But that's just ME reading it, and it only affecting ME.

Imagine having your husband outed to like, the WORLD. Everyone can read what he said. Everyone  knows that your husband has been sneaking around your back, in PLAIN. SIGHT.

If you stay with him, everyone's going to call you an idiot and maybe even look down on you for it.

What do you do? You have a family together; 5 impressionable children. And you know that everyone at their school is going to know what happened. Fuck, even the parents are going to know. Can you imagine? Right before the fucking DAY OF LOVE. That's gotta hurt.

Shay was my father figure I feel (my own personal dad is dumb and non-existent), and to find out that your dad acted like that is a really gross feeling. He's supposed to be good, wholesome, clean, and more importantly, a good influence. If he's just as gross and nasty as the rest of the fuckboys out there, what is a girl supposed to do?

I thought that BB did what he did because he was a bad person. Well not a bad person, but like, BB was a sociopath, so he treated me bad with no remorse.

But if father of the year, Shay Carl, ends up cheating via the internet just like everyone else, where's my faith in humanity?

WHAT. IS. LOVE?

My heart hurts. I feel like everything's a lie.

I already have low self-esteem, and have been cheated on multiple times by the one person who's ever shown any interest in me. If even picture-perfect relationships end up like this, what are the chances that I could ever end up happy and trusting ever again?

Yes I know that the internet is only a WINDOW into people's lives, no matter how much they show. I know that "picture-perfect" is just that, but it doesn't change my feelings on what has happened.

My heart hurts, that's the simple truth.

What is time?

I have so many things to write about so I guess I'll just start with what fucked my mind over completely today.

Time is an extremely interesting topic to me and it always has been. I mean, that's what I named my blog after. It's only "thyme" as in the herb because it was a joke in the sense that this was an eating disorder blog.

Personally, I believe that time doesn't exist, but recently I found that I had forgotten why I believe that. I knew it had something to do with the fact that matter can't be created or destroyed. But if it were that simple, then time would still exist, it would just be circular instead of linear.

I remember already pondering the existence of time intently a few years ago and eventually coming to an understanding of a belief; but somewhere along the line I lost it, so I decided I'd simply google it and my reasoning would come back to me... this was not the case.

What was the case however, was a mind fuck of an event that took me two hours to absorb and share with other people who probably didn't want their morning cluttered with my stupid theories.

I was just sitting there, minding my own business when I decided to google "Is time linear?".

I ended up on this thread from reddit, where the question was the following:

I recently read a theory suggesting that linear time does not exist, that the notion of linear time is nothing more than our minds way of condensing information. But how would we ever prove this? This theory suggested that everything that has occurred, is occurring, and will occur is in fact happening simultaneously and we see it happening in linear form simply to perceive it. I figured if this was true, it is because at the moment of the Big Bang an infinite amount of energy was released, and using Einstein's Theory of Relativity, an infinite amount of energy would mean an infinite amount of mass, space and time; resulting in time both existing and not existing, which would then mean time could not be linear, but at the same time appearing to be. So my question is; am I understanding this correctly, and how would we ever prove this theory?

Now, I'm not that smart. I could only make it through grade 11 physics and didn't even try to attempt physics in grade 12. This is because I'm not very good with abstract thought. I'm a big picture person and I think it gets in the way of understanding technical shit like physics. I start thinking about this stuff and it's like all the secrets of the universe are surging through my bones. My mind races a thousand miles a minute because it's like "OH! SO THAT EXPLAINS THIS AND THIS AND THAT AND SO THEN THAT MEANS THIS AND WITH THAT AND THIS TOGETHER-" you get what I'm saying? After big "eureka moments" like these, I'm usually out of it for the rest of the day hahaha I'll sometimes get a headache, or feel dizzy or nauseous (talk about a wild ride).

So what I'm saying is, take this post and what is written in it with a grain of salt. Because I could be making 0 logical sense here. Alright, so here we go...

Reading that person's paragraph, I disagree with the fact that the universe has an infinite amount of energy. I think back in uni I remember learning in astronomy class that the Big Bang happened, supplying the universe with a certain amount of energy. The universe is ever expanding, yes, but it's not because of "infinite" energy. It's because the universe is becoming less dense. It's like, you've got a ball of dough which you roll out. You're not get more dough, it's just getting thinner and thinner, ie. less dense.

But I do agree with the realization that everything exists and doesn't exist at the same time; because mass can neither be created or destroyed so just as you recycle, the item exists before it's created and also doesn't exist at all.

How can we relate this to time? I mean, I remember yesterday, and don't know what will happen tomorrow. Yes, it kinda makes sense with the whole "recycling" theory that yesterday, today, and tomorrow all exist before it happens and in a sense, doesn't exist at all. But that's such a broad explanation. Why do we see remnants of people from centuries ago? It's absolutely CLEAR that they once existed, and now they don't.

Okay, so let's dive a little deeper here. Most of what we perceive in the world is due to the brain interpreting waves. Light waves, sound waves, electromagnetic waves... frequencies of all sorts. So since we are perceiving time, let's examine the waves it would consist of.

The best example I could come up with that shows everything happening at once even though we perceive it differently is how we observe lightening.

Lightening strikes. The light waves reach our eyes, our brain turns those waves into electric currents. The currents travel all throughout the brain and we eventually understand that we have just seen lightening. BUT!!!!! Only after all that happens do the sound waves make it to our ears, to our brain, to our conscious understanding.

We know with the help of science, that the sound of thunder really did occur at the same time as the light appearing. It just took longer to perceive the sound than the light due to the different wavelengths both light and sound hold.

So, maybe the past is just waves that have been perceived sooner than waves of the future, even though everything has happened at the same time; resulting in us creating a linear sequence of events, aka: time.

So if we're just perceiving one event consisting of different wavelengths, it could explain why we find such patterns in our lives. For example, meeting the same type of people over and over, having passions/questions/themes that keep popping up here and there our entire lives. BUT a wavelength has a beginning and an end, so we haven't made 100% sense here yet.

I already said that I agree that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. So with that notion, time cannot be created or destroyed, meaning it's infinite. If time is linear, then what's an infinite line? A circle. Right? a triangle has 3 lines, a square has four, hexagon-six, a circle-one.

In perception views, this could explain déjà vu, reincarnation, why the sun and moon rise and fall, all the other cycles we witness on earth (water cycle, seasons), the patterns and constant themes within our own lives...

But I'm saying that time is a product of consciousness: constructed. It can't be manipulated because it only exists structurally in our minds.

If it were to be manipulated, we could take this moment and put it there, and throw tomorrow right out the window. That's obvious right? The only thing we can do is "live in the moment". C'est la vie. It is what it is.

So now note this: when we look into deep space, we're actually looking into the past. We know this because the universe is ever expanding (as I mentioned above); so the further we look, the more into the past we are. This is also proven with the fact that using just the naked eye, we can see stars in the sky that are actually dead. They are no more.

We can use a telescope and watch the birth of a star that is now non-existent. Like, if we looked far enough, we could see the birth of the universe. Actually SEE the Big Bang.

Crazy, right?

So stop for a minute and absorb what I just wrote. We can literally see the past happening, in the present moment. We can watch the actual MOMENT of something that happened millions of years ago, without the use of film or something that captures moments (like taking a video and watching it later sort of thing).

If we can watch the past, who says we can't watch the future?? We just don't know how to do it yet, and when we figure it out, shit's going to hit the fan, I swear it.

But again, I just separated past, present, and future into different things. But what I'm actually saying here is: everything is happening at the exact same time; we just simply can't perceive it all at once. It can't be swallowed in one bite, but it's still one singular sandwich.

Existence is each person individually recalling a little bit of one GIANT moment. We live our lives inspecting one small hair on the head of said giant moment.

Another way to explain it is we're all in a MASSIVE art gallery together. We all enter at different doors and when we do walk in, all the art was present before we came in and after we will leave (coming and going being life). Each painting and sculpture would represent an event or something like that. There will be wings of the gallery that we'll miss or never reach, and there will be details of each artwork that we might not have noticed. Person A sees picture 1 when they first come in. But person X might see picture 1 somewhere in the middle of their journey. Get it?

Another, way to explain it is that time is one HUMONGOUS painting. Like, bigger than you could ever imagine. And we're all on it. Life would just be us experiencing different parts of it. Everyone would end up seeing different things, some people would see the same parts when they walk beside each other.

I don't know, my favourite explanation is the art gallery one. Time doesn't exist because it's all already present.

If anyone has read this far, I'd be super interested in hearing your thoughts! Like I said, the concept of time is something I've always been fascinated with. And everyone always has a different opinion! Time to physics is like religion to humanity I feel, so many different beliefs and theories.

Maybe I should share some of my other weirdly abstract thoughts and beliefs? Let me know! Science is overwhelming but it's kinda fun because even though we think we've figured something out, it can always be disproven. Nothing is known if you think about it. Nothing is real.

Anywaaaaay, sorry for the long post! Sorry if it's stupid, makes no sense, or is boring!! If you really do actually know about science, please don't chew me up and spit me out! I'm always so afraid to share an opinion on stuff like this... 😳😳

♥︎,

Mint.

I want to be part of something.

The worst part about being lonely in this current day and age is that most people who are alone IRL aren't alone online.

Loners find their community, their group, and their people online! So that, even though they may be lonely in real life, they have people who love and support them via the internet.

But with me, I feel too afraid to even reach out through a screen. I'm wearing a mask yet I feel too exposed.

I think maybe because everyone has become so passionate about their own opinions and causes. Everything is right, and everything is wrong and if you wander down the wrong street and you're from the wrong circle, you're going to know it. You're going to be beat out so quickly, so forcefully, you're going to be sorry you ever even thought your thought.

Now I know not everyone is like this. Obviously.

But with my head as sick as it is, and my feelings so used to being hurt, I stay away.

I used to be in a community during 2011/2012. But I feel detached now.

A) Because I stopped participating

B) Because my thoughts and priorities have changed; my life no longer revolves completely around food and the scale. Yes, food is still something I struggle with, something that keeps me up at night on bad days; but it's not in control of my mind.

Now the themes of this blog seem to be centered around: my everyday struggles, questions about the world, and self-discovery.

I like sharing my story for myself and for others to read. I want people to learn while I learn, to not do the same mistakes, and to know that they're not alone. I like sharing positivity when I have it, silly stories about inner dialogues, poems on occasion, and epiphanies/mini essays.

I like sharing those things, but I also like reading others' musings. I like readings poems and thoughts and essays and dialogues and epiphanies just as much as I enjoy writing them.

So here is my plan. I've made a tumblr that is going to be linked to this blog. Let it be noted that tumblr will only be used for short text posts, and reblogging pictures/quotes/other posts the I enjoy; I will still be writing all these long winded thoughts here!

I'm going to work on making posts more regularly (at least once a week I'm thinking), and start trying to find similar blogs to follow/become friends with.

So, hopefully this works, and hopefully it's fun...

I'm sick of being so lonely!! TALK TO MEEEEEE! I won't bite I swear!

♥︎,

Mint.