Sunday, March 27, 2022

 hellurrrrr~~


I finally got diagnosed with bpd on thursday.

been waiting for that for years. feel nothing.


I feel the same way I felt when I started self harming. like I’m not good enough to call it self harm.


it def became “good enough” though.


anyway, that’s the point. why am I suddenly thinking I’m not good enough or sick enough to have a thing that I’ve been told I’ve had for about 6 years now??


I felt stupid following bpd subreddits because I wasn’t diagnosed. but now I feel stupid for following because I don’t think I’m bad enough.


when I know I am. like it’s so conflicting.


yes. I can hold most of my impulses in. YES. SURE. OKAY. but it doesn’t mean that I don’t feel every fucking thing. and that I don’t want to hack my arm off over someone just acting a little bit different towards me. or that I don’t want to rip my stomach open to rid myself of the emptiness. or that I don’t want to bash my head against the wall and scream until my vocal chords explode.


it all hurts. or it feels like nothing. I feel the chaos building all the time. it’s scary because I know I’m about to implode.

not EXPLODE, because I’ve learnt how to stop the extreme impulses.


which means I’m not sick enough.

I’m just needy and pathetic and immature.


I HATE MYSELF

I LITERALLY KNOW I’M BEING SO CONFLICTING TO MYSELF 😭😭😭 LIKE WHY CANT I JUST BE???????


everything hurts and my mind keeps saying, “I want to go home.”

but I am home? if this isn’t home wtf am I wanting??


my brother isn’t doing well again.

found out he uses intravenously on my birthday back in august 🥲 who tf injects meth. who taught him that?? why did this happen to him?


he was also homeless for a bit and had people after him (maybe idk maybe it was paranoia).


he sought help and started school to be a mechanic. he was doing well. then this week I found out through mom he’s gone mia again. using again. doesn’t care again.


all of this hurts so much. I have my own problems that are making it hard for me to deal too but whenever shit like this is happening with my brother I fall to pieces.


idk what to do.

I just feel pain. I drink so I can numb. I’m lost.

Sunday, January 13, 2019

OH HEYYYYYYYY

Omg I'm on my old laptop.

I REPEAT: I am ON my OLD LAPTOP.

Now, it's hooked up to the tv since the backlight is still broken, BUT I can see all my old shit which is craaaaazy!

What happened with the whole "I'm gonna get a new laptop omg blahblahblah" thing was that, APPARENTLY one can only buy a 15-inch Macbook Pro for like $3500 now. Because the 15-inch is only made with one operating system or whatever the correct terminology is.

Basically, it's super expensive because it has the super duper computer attached to it as opposed to the 13-inch which has the basic bitch computer model that I need.

"Why didn't you just get a 13-inch?" you might ask.

"UMMMMMMM.... !!!?!??!?!" I might say.

BECAUSE I NEED SPACE. I am an ARTIST and I need a big ass fucking screen, alright?

"Why didn't you just get a PC?" you say?!?

"UMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!//!?!?!??!?!?!??!?!1111"

Anyway... once I found out that I had to save more for the one I wanted or get one I didn't want I decided to go back home to mull it over. You know, take a minute with the ol' thinker-tank, noodle bank, feel?

I thought with my ol' thinker-tank, noodle bank for a couple of days. I budgeted my money to see how much longer I'd have to save in order to get the two extra inches that this bitch, rightfully deserves.

The results were not pretty. I'd have to save like all the way until April!! Meaning, I'd DENY myself fun purchases for an entire THIRD of the year. 2019. The year that I've decided is super important for some reason (more on that later).

Now, I don't know about you but not having fun for an entire third of a very important year does not sound ideal at all.

I mean girl, I've got an absolute shit ton of things I want ranging from a haircut, to a vape, to a reiki course (yaaaas bi'ch), to a tattoo, to a fucking nintendo switch (animal crossing is coming out soon and you know ya girl gotta get it).

AND THENNNN! B is coming to visit me for a week in May and I need savings for thaaaaat OBVIOUSLY. Duh.

No dice; can't wait.

So I was like, "Aight. MAYBE, I can live with a 13-inch."

My old sketch book has a 13-inch cross-diameter so I was like pretending that it was a laptop, comparing it to my old laptop (fun fact I've only had two laptops in my entire life and they were both 15-inch); I wasn't vibin' with it :/

I ask some of my friends their opinion on the matter; both guys, both with 13-inchers (LUL- damn).

BOTH OPINIONS WERE USELESS. They both think 15-inches is way too big, and they like the teeny tiny.

I mean, I guess asking them was one of those tests to see what you personally really want to do, you know? Where you ask someone something and if they say what you wanted you're happy but if they don't you suddenly realize the answer you wanted to hear? You know?

Then my noodle bank thank-tank had a think that IMO was a good thought: repair your fucking laptop.

DA-DUUUUUUUUN!!!!!

Like woah man, genius.

Now, I'm not too sure if you guys know what happened to my OG, or if you CARE about what happened, or if anyone other than B is even reading this, but imma recap for you. Back in 2014 (August I believe), BB and I were play wrestling on the bed with the laptop sitting there helplessly. BB is winning, I r struggle, and water gets knocked onto my LITERAL, BABY (the laptop, the laptop is my baby).

Baby doesn't not like that, baby's eyes won't open. Mint is furious. BB says he'll fix it.

SPOILER ALERT:

BB DID NOT FIX THE BABY.

I bring the laptop to a repair store to figure out what's wrong with it, turns out the backlight is just burnt out. That's why the actual computer turns on, and the screen does not. Seems like a cheap fix! Just chaaaange teh lightbulb, duhhhh.

Nope, WRONG BITCH.

It's $700 for that, and in 2015 (when I got it diagnosed) laptops were like, what $1500? So November/December 2015 Mint was like, "I should just try to save and buy a new one" lmao that poor, poor, unsuspecting idiot...

ANYWAY, fast-forward to now (when I low-key have my shit together avec actual DOLLARZ SAVED), I'm like, "OMG BITCH JUST FIX THE LAPTOP, YOU KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT, YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT'LL COST, VOILA! FIX IT, BOOM LAPTOP THAT IS RIGHT SIZE, BOOM SAVINGZ FOR ALL THE THINGS YOU WANNA BUY".

So this is kind of the stage we're at because I'm still thinking on it to be honest.

I got a cord that puts my laptop's screen on the tv screen because I wanted to see how slow the laptop is before making the decision to fix it or not (it's a 2011 model).

If the laptop seems full of enough life to warrant putting money into fixing it, then I'll do it, because fun fact, Apple scared the hell out of me by saying that if one thing goes wrong with the new MacBooks, you need to replace the ENTIRE thing. Why? Because they're making them in one giant piece now as opposed to parts. This could just be a sleekness of design or some shit but I see it as a way to encourage paying monthly insurance on a goddamn laptop, and if you DON'T pay the fucking insurance, then you gotta spend another GAZILLION dollars for a new one.

Fucking ridiculous. I'm that person who's super against warranties and insurance and shit. I don't know if I totally UNDERSTAND the USE for them but from what I have gathered, it's bullshit LOL

Like say someone crashes into your car and doesn't have insurance to cover it. Are they gonna pay it out of pocket? HELL NO, DO THEY LOOK LIKE A FUCKING LAW ABIDING CITIZEN TO YOU? THEY HAVE NO FUCKING INSURANCE!!!

And like with warranties there are so many little "fine print moments" that whenever you need to use the warranty, the thing you need it for isn't included.

PLUS, I don't know if you KNOW this or not but IIIIII am a broke ass fucking bitch who doesn't have TIMEEEEE or MONEYZZZZZ for your dumbass, cultish fucking scams APPLE.

My moto is just like... "don't break it". I told the guy at Best Buy this and he was like "Ya okay but like... you broke your last one."

...
...
...
.......
!!!!!?!?!?!#??!#@"!#JK$@HJ@HJ$G@E!!!!#!#*!@#^&!@

So ya, that's where we are on the whole "laptop situation" lol

I also had another think where I remembered T4 season is comin' up and I might get a refund! I might not though, that'd be just my luck lol BUT, if I DO get a good one, I could put that into getting the new 15-inch if I'm still dreaming of it; or I could bend and get the 13-inch... who knows? Not me obviously.

Honestly, thinking back to the whole "if something goes wrong with it you need to replace the whole laptop if you don't have insurance" thing... I would have spent the same amount of money on that new 15-inch laptop as I did to buy the car I'm currently driving... that's fucking nuts lmao really fucking nuts. I don't wanna spend that much, even with a refund cheque.

UGH I KEEP CIRCLE THINKING, THIS IS POINTLESS.

Okay, conclusion time:

I'm not getting a new 15-inch
I'm not getting a used 15-inch (bad juu-juu lmao I just can't, plus people at Best Buy didn't recommend it either for the same reason)
...
I just took out my old sketch book to try the sizing again and NOPE. The size reminds me of this little laptop my mom had way back in like 2007 or some shit; the idea was like one of those "notebook" devices before they were invented... ugh I'm explaining it weird; it doesn't matter, I just don't like it LOOOL I'Z ARTIST.

So I guess we've concluded together that imma fix this lil bitch since I'm not ready for the new models. If I get a year out of it that's all I need to be happy I think. CAUSE LIKE BIG THINGS ARE HAPPENING THIS YEAR. AND SO LIKE, NEXT YEAR, I'LL BE ABLE TO AFFORD THE SUPER EXPENSIVE LAPTOP EASIER SINCE I FEEL MONEY COMING MY WAY WITH A NEW CAREER PATH APPROACHING THIS YEAR.

Final conclusion of conclusion:

It's a good thing I decided to go the way cheaper route because I spent $140 on a vape already, $40 on a journal (I FINALLY finished the jumbo journal I bought in 2012 and needed another with the same paper quality/coil size because apparently- as we've seen with this post- I don't fuck around when it comes to where I write things down LOL), $350 on makeup, $500 on clothes (killer discount made it $200), $200 on groceries/toiletries (I moved downstairs and thus have my own kitchen- woo food control maybe.. hopefully), I'm planning on getting my belly button pierced ASAP ($90?), my reiki course is $300 (t-minus two weeks!), and I'm a call away from a hair appointment.

Also I need to do some work on the car (new expensive brakes or some shit- $500?), I have an addiction to crystals (I really want a $200 piece of moldavite), I need new shoes, and want new bras/underwear.

So like... thank the lord because 2019 is all about awesome purchases and fun adventures.

✌️✌️

♥,

Mint.

Monday, October 29, 2018

luna. 🌙

Update on this bitch.

SHE GOT A BLACK CAT NAMED LUNA.

ARE
YOU
FUCKING
KIDDING
ME?

IT'S BEEN YEARZZZZZ AND SHE'S STILL TAKING EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED!!

LIKE WHAT ISSSSS THIS!?
WHAT IS THE UNIVERSE DOOOOOOING?!?!
WHY IS IT DOING THIS TO MEEEE!?!?!?!?!?!?

I'm so exhausted from yelling about this, my throat is so sore.

To be honest, I'd rather write about this in my journal because it's extremely petty, but SOMEONE FINALLYYYY completed their GIANT journal that they started back in 2012 💁🏼 no big deal. ✌🏻 I need to buy another one sometime this week cause like, I'm a writer, you know lol omg I swear to god if that bitch ever has a book published I'm going to kill myself hahaha

This was just a sudden, "rant" type of post obviously... but in general, I really want to get back into blogging and writing!! When I was rereading my journal over, there was some poetry in it and I was like, crying because it was actually good! I'm sooo hard on myself; I usually don't think that anything I do is like, good good... you know? But my writing is definitely one thing that I truly believe I have talent in. It's a shame that I haven't been writing much these past few years.

Mom told me the other day that she'd buy the Mac I want and I can pay her back for it slowly if it got me back into writing more. I'm so excited!! I can't remember if I ever mentioned it here or not but my old Macbook (my one and only gift from both mom AND dad for graduating high school/turning 18) was ruined in 2014 (3 years later) when BB spilt water all over it. That's one of the main reasons I stopped blogging... well that and because BB a snoopy snoop and would def be like "WUT R U DOIN'; WUT U WRITIN'? DO U H8 ME? R U BITCHIN' 'BOUT ME? LEMME SEEEEEE???"

So ya, I stopped and would just write in my journal here and there. Also, ALL of my poetry is on that hard drive. I used to have a blog on tumblr where I'd post it all, but then I deleted the blog because someone called me a bigot because I didn't understand why the fuck people were calling Miley Cyrus "racist" for wearing a wig of dreads. So I NEEEED a new Mac so I can put my OLD Mac on it so that I can read my OLD poetry hahaha you see?

I feel really spoilt about having my mom buy me a Mac but like, literally she's technically just a loan, so I'm not that spoilt, right? RIGHT?

I've got to go now, but I'm going to blog about last week, sometime THIS week; mark my words!

P.s. last week I had an identity crisis and almost died from a mystery allergic reaction whilst doing this lovely walk- can we agree yet that I'm not meant to go outside??

Much luuuv~! ♥︎

- Mint.

Friday, September 21, 2018

To Settle

set·tle1
ˈsedl/
verb
verb: settle; 3rd person present: settles; past tense: settled; past participle: settled; gerund or present participle: settling

  • to make calmer or quieter
  • to accept or agree to (something that one considers to be less than satisfactory)


Okay so likeeeeee

COULD YOU TELL ME WHY I WOULD LIKE THAT? WHY THAT SEEMS LIKE A THING I WOULD LIKE TO DO? DOES THIS SEEM TO SUIT ME?

The person who freaked out about being in the same town for a year? The person who tries desperately to ignore the fact that she has worked at the same place for over a year? The person who freaks out when nothing has gone wrong for awhile; who self-sabotages out of doubt and boredom?

The person who NEVER wants kids and NEVER EVERRRR OMGGGGG NEVER wants a house?

The person who’s only two speeds are unmoving/basically dead and tornado of explosion and chaos, you think it’s a good idea to like... yank them out of the sky when they’re in a flurry and “calm them down”? You think it’s a good idea to take someone who’s in sloth mode and slow them down even more? That’s what you think huh?

Well jeez, I must be a fucking idiot.

May 4th, 2018 (I think this is one of the best poems I’ve ever written)

May 4th, 2018:

“I wish we could be the we we were before.
When you were Billy the Kidd and I was your ride or die;
who’d fly like a dove,
high in the sky
with you by my side.

But you lost people
And I lost people
And our powder put us in a lockdown

A chokehold you kept me in but you were the one suffering.
Gasping for breathe,
and voice
because I was all you had left
and you knew I was fading fast
so your grip was claiming to the past

Of what you knew and what we were and what we were
fighting for...
this thing called love.

but it was more than that
it was freedom
it was youth

it was adventure. it was true,
that we lived...

it was colours that we saw
and breathed deeply into our lungs
with nicotine and coco in sweet
puffs.

a feeling of euphoria with every step we took together

fuck; everything was so lush.
rose-coloured glasses that were ripped off our stupid little faces
and smashed right in front of us
with our own two feet...

we walked straight into it
the night we met in that bar

when you took me and we played pool
when I sang that song in the car

young and beautiful...
I wasn’t less, I wasn’t more

we watched the sunrise and I felt infinite
you kissed me; made me soar

sore
for many a reason
hurts, unspeakable truths

the siren’s song I sing

but with that kiss, that touch, that smile...
eternal sunshine is what you bring.

your soul of souls is the mate to mine,
but in this life we’re forecasted cloud.

And I sit here longing for the you you no longer are.
mourning the death of a man who still breathes
who’s soul shifted the universe in a way I couldn’t keep up with.

you held me so tightly; a force only spoken in myth.

cold hands; a death grip you used on my heart.

I still feel the kitchen floor underneath me.

I still feel your pin

But why is the you holding me now, not the man I loved then?”

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

"I have a lion heart mixed with winds of twins;
my soul was never meant to know peace and quiet."

Saturday, October 21, 2017

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.

Friday, October 13, 2017

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.

Friday, July 7, 2017

*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.

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

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.

Thursday, June 29, 2017

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.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

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

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

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

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

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.

Friday, April 14, 2017

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.

Friday, April 7, 2017

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.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

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.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

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.