Statistics.

When I say I'm fine, nine out of ten times I'm using my definition and not the one in the dictionary.

fine, fi·ne/fīn/, /ˈfēnā/

Adjective:	Of high quality.
Noun:	Very small particles found in mining, milling, etc. A sum of money exacted as a penalty by a court of law or other authority. French brandy of high quality made from distilled wine rather than from pomace. (in musical directions) The place where a piece of music finishes (when this is not at the end of the score but at the end of an earlier...
Adverb:	In a satisfactory or pleasing manner; very well: "“And how's the job?” “Oh, fine.”".
Verb:	Clarify (beer or wine) by causing the precipitation of sediment during production. Punish (someone) by making them pay a sum of money, typically as a penalty for breaking the law.

My definition
Fine
1. I've had worse days.
2. I've hurt more.
3. Life has sucked more.
4. Well, this could be worse.
5. It's alright, not like I actually (lie) care or anything so, it will do.
6. I've thought more about suicide, and it has been worse.
7. Tomorrow seems sort of within reach.
- No, I am not okay, but I will tell you that I am fine if any of the reasons above apply since you can't be bothered to actually care if I am fine by the dictionary definition and not by mine.

I would love to say that I'm fine and have someone turn to me and tell me that it's all bullshit and as me what is really wrong.
To me, fine is saying that it's alright since I haven't killed myself or cut today, though I've thought about it. Fine is saying that I can't really care how it will affect me because it will make someone else happy and that's okay.
I say I'm fine when I'm depressed.
I say I'm fine when I'm about to cry.
I say I'm fine in hope someone will tell me to try again. No one has.

Today, I'm fine. I haven't cut yet, so that's good. Truthfully, I've been in a horrible mood all day. School sucked, I'm so tired and I haven't been sleeping at all recently. I think I'm back to where I was at the end of last year. I won't explain, though I'm sure that none of you will understand. When I got home everything sucked that much more. It doesn't bother me that my mom had me raking leaves, what bothered me is that I do it all by myself even though everyone else is home, they just choose to occupy themselves with something completely stupid. My sister said she was sick. Well, I've been sick for two weeks and I still get up every morning and kick myself through the day and halfway through the night. I just don't want to hear it anymore.
It's not like my mom cared either. She just stayed in the back yard waving the leaf blower around like a fool. If she had been out front she would have asked me again about college, and what my plan is, probably hoping that I would have changed my mind. I haven't. I want to go to art school and that just pisses her off to no end. Well, too fucking bad. I get horrible grades in school now, what makes you think college will be any different if I go to a "real" college.
Fuck her. She knows I have issues and she chooses to do nothing about them. She sees that I don't eat but she just pokes me in the stomach looking to see if she can feel my ribs yet. Will it take me starving myself half to death for her to do something about it finally?
I try to love her and it just doesn't work.
It's all "oh, woe is me," with her. She says she is depressed, but she doesn't know what depression is.
She doesn't know what it feels like to not have the drive to do anything.
She doesn't know what it feels like to love music and love drawing but not want to do anything with it at a particular moment because of depression.
She doesn't know what it's like to have been beaten by your ex and only told one person about it.
She doesn't know what it's like to hear the song that was played while you were being beaten on the radio and expected not to react.
She doesn't know what a real panic attack is like.
She doesn't know what the relief feels like when you cut nice and deep into your skin.
She doesn't know what a schizophrenic hallucination is like, how bad it can get.
She doesn't know what it's like to not remember the last time your own mother said that she was proud of you.
She doesn't know what it's like to be invisible.
And she doesn't know that she has driven me into depression.

So yeah, I'm fine.

Not Daddy's Girl

I've been independent for a lot of my life. Since I was four, really. I mean, I couldn't cook on my own or anything, that's just too impressive for me. No, I was just never the favorite and had to independently teach me how to grow up with very little parental influence.
My mom was a firefighter and worked a lot.
My dad died when I was six.
They were divorced since I was about four.
He "ran away," as my mom put it, to Arizona.
Unfortunately, my mother can be such a bitch about my father sometimes, and how she talks about him. Just tonight we were at a party at my lieutenant's house and she started talking about the multiple times she has been called a lesbian.
My father was no angel. At all. He cheated on my mom, which is why they got divorced, then ran away to Arizona to be closer to his mom, my Oma. That would have been okay if I had maybe gotten to see him more. I didn't and I have very few and far between memories of him. They're all really great memories, too, and I really wish that my mom would let me keep those as innocent and as untainted as possible.
She likes to share her survival stories a lot, the "oh woe is me" type of stories. This story in particular involved her telling everyone about how once my dad was in Arizona, he played it off as if my mom was a lesbian and that's why he cheated.
He got a new girlfriend, Ms. Angie, as I called her.
He cheated on her. No one found out about that one until his funeral when the girl he was cheating on her with tried to leave a note in his open casket.
The worst memory I have is kissing his cold cheek.
My mother is ruining everything by telling me all of this. I don't want to look at his memories as if he was a bad guy.
At least he would tell me he was proud of me if he was still here.

Other-Worldly Bullshit

Since I was young I remember thinking that everyone had mind-reading powers except me. Everyone could read my mind and everyone was in on the plan not to tell me that they could read my mind. There were times when I'd freak out and start crying.
There was this other time that I remember crying because the world was just so big, and I was just a small part of it.
I think somewhere around there would be when the paranoia all started up, when I was young. I hadn't thought too much about it until just recently. I have been trying so desperately to figure out what is wrong with me. My childhood came to mind, and yet until today I never connected the two stories to my more recent problems. Also, when I was younger I remember being petrified of being home alone at night, a feeling that has yet to go away. And still currently I can't walk by windows if it is dark on the other side of the glass without having something close to a panic attack.
Speaking of panic attacks, I had been so excited that they were over. Now I don't know what to do with myself. Last year, at the very end of the year when everything started to come together, better yet, fall apart, I would get three to seven of them a day.
I had one last night.
I had one this morning.
I'm terrified. I don't want to fall back into the hell I was in last year. I'm just starting to make amends with life. Suicide wasn't such a strong thought anymore, though it was still there, but now it's coming back. All of it is coming back.
I'm starting to think that I really need help.
Can't tell my mom, yet. Oh, no, that would be a very bad idea. I will have to wait until I'm 18 to do anything about it. One and a half years today, actually, and I will get the help that I need. In secret, of course. My mom already thinks I'm stupid, verbally telling me on somewhere close to a daily basis, I don't need her knowing that I'm crazy, too.

Needs A Spark

I no longer interest myself.
There had been, not too long ago either I might add, a short standing pact that I had going. My idea was to party and smoke and drink all I wanted, to have fun. Eventually when I was somewhere around thirty-seven I would just kill myself. That edited itself to when I was bored with my life I'd just kill myself.
I am bored with life.
Don't get me wrong, I love where I am right now. I love being a firefighter, my boyfriend is great and endlessly entertaining, but I'm so bored. Maybe that's just how I feel at the moment. Something exciting should happen, though I swear if my pager goes off right now I will be pissed because I'm home alone and won't be able to make it to the station in time.
I don't even know what to say anymore.

Night Fucks Day

Oh how I hate these days that are such roller coasters.
Reality and "dreamland" is starting to blur as a sort of definite state of mind. My whole life seems to be turning into a fiction novel and no one is bothering to take a second and read past the cover. School is such an annoying fly in my ear that I can't be bothered to pay attention. I can't believe they won't let me graduate early. Senior will suck immensely at this rate.
I'm a complete loner this year it's not even funny. I can't understand how the hell I managed getting a boyfriend, a great one at that, but I did.
These problems are just horrid and the people causing them, even more so. They all fuck with my head so hard that I'm completely dizzy from all of it. Sick of it all. Just nauseous.
In a year it won't matter.
In a year it won't matter.
Two thirds of it anyways.

Brilliant

So I'm watching The Patriot, which is an absolutely great movie. I'm so glad James informed me of it being on. The way the main character avenges his son I just find so genius, something I'd probably do if I ever had a son and he was killed. Very symbolic too, whether or not it was meant to be like that is a complete mystery to me, but I love the toy soldier thing. Like a fallen hero fighting until his last breath or some Hallmark bullshit like that.
Just brilliant.
The only part I really don't agree with is him falling for his late wife's sister. That's just so strange, and wrong. I mean, I wouldn't go falling for my late boyfriend's sister. Well, since she has a fiance, I wouldn't go falling for his mother.
Now that, that is just wrong.

Let's All Kill Our Future With Our Dumb Children!

I find it entirely hilarious when the girls in my school get pregnant. Something is completely wrong with our senior class. I am just so entirely grateful for being a Junior...
Two seniors have gotten pregnant. One was supposedly an accident, the baby was already born, he was two months early and probably the cutest thing you've ever seen. I designed a tattoo for the father, the best tattoo work I've ever done. The other was supposedly planned, which I find utterly hard to believe. This is the new girlfriend of my ex-boyfriend. I was with him for thirteen months and never came close to being pregnant. She has been with him for somewhere around two months. It's hard to believe that he's the father.
My mom is planning on sending my ex's mother a card, congratulating her on being a grandmother. Two teen parents in that family, and he hasn't been in school for the past week. Everyone is speculating that he's in the hospital, probably so run over by anxiety and panic attacks that he needed to be hospitalized.
She wants to name it Margaret Lauren because both of his ex's were crazy.
Rather be crazy than stupid, sweetheart.
Congratulations, you have class.

So Savvy

Something my Chief at the Fire Department mentioned, still rings in my head like some annoying bell. He told me not to think too seriously about it, and I'm not, but it makes like seem just that much more real.
He said that I could go on a call, and never come back.
It's not so much a scary thought, at all. I had thought the exact same thing when first joining the department. Then I thought that if I didn't die trying, then I didn't try hard enough. Now, all I can think about is being burned alive because I fell through a roof. Something about the crackling of the fire burning my flesh haunts me every waking minute.
He told me that people stink when they're burned, that it's a smell you will never forget. I know I plan on joining a bigger, city department when I eventually turn 18 and complete fire one, but that just isn't one of the things I am looking forward to about the job, the smell of burning flesh. I will need to be able to handle it. I will need to be able to handle watching people die, whether they are being burned or jumping from the top floor of a three story building to the harsh ground below, and everything in between. I will need to handle making tough decisions, coming from a call with one less brother or sister.

The two things I love about this job, though, is one, the guys, who immediately accepted me as one of the family.
And two, racing to a call lights and sirens. It's better than any drug.

Spoon. Ing?

I had this random thought, about digging a hole into my arm. Not too sure where in the hell it came from, but it sounds interesting.
I mean, wouldn't it be interesting if your mind could manipulate your body in such a way that it can make your skin so fragile that you could take something so simple as a spoon, and just dig a hole, right in the very center of your forearm?
Just a thought.

Life After Death

So I have this theory, about life after death, hence the title. People believe in reincarnation all over the place for different reasons, having to do with God and such. I have this loose theory about such a topic, relating it all back to science.
Energy is never created or destroyed, right? Aren't we energy?
I got kicked out of my church, there is no God to me, not after the shit I've been through in my life. There just cannot be a higher power, especially not one that contradicts himself with his own rules. (i.e. 7 Deadly Sins: 1 is Wrath. Then the bible talks about God's Wrath. Bullshit.). To me, it's just not logical. But, you can't just die, right? There has to be something more.
We all have souls. In some way, shape, or form, we just do. A soul as in a ball of energy. This ball just occupies a shell. When the shell dies, the energy moves on to something else, maybe even splits apart if it has grown stronger or more abundant somehow. The energy can move to anything, humans, animals, plants, etc.. So why not? It's a decent theory.
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