If you ever feel like you're nothing, you are perfect to me

Today was the memorial.  It was absolutely beautiful, Father Gavin is my hero in all things Catholic and wonderful.  There was a great turnout, though I was very sad to see that NO TK staff came.  VERY upset that one of Ariel's favorite BHSs wouldn't come because she "had a concert that started at 6:30."  I haven't liked that bitch since our freshman year of high school, I didn't like that bitch when she had to listen to me pee, and I certainly don't like that bitch now.  I feel like that's the only thing Ariel would be really upset about.  The rest of it though...she was definitely there, in the room with us.  Yelling at us for crying, doing cartwheels...singing her favorite songs with me, making my voice strong when it shook.  This whole week was emotional hell, so much stress and anxiety and on the brink of despair...thank God for the TK community.  I don't credit all of my strength to the "new" post-TK Julie, I credit the majority of it to my amazing support network.  I couldn't get by without them.  It was also a giant help and comfort to have Peter (GBF) by my side, once again playing piano and singing with me.  PB+J reunited :)
I'm exhausted, so I'm going to post something I wrote that was read at the service.  God bless you all, I love you.

When someone we love leaves us in the way that Ariel did, we have many questions. One of the most common questions is, what could I have done to prevent this? Could I have loved her better?
The response to that question is that a suicide has nothing to do with love. It has to do with pain.
Talking about suicide and love is like comparing apples to oranges. When a person takes her life, she is making a statement, and that statement is that the pain in her life had become intolerable, and she could no longer tolerate the pain. She ran out of steam. The pain reached such a level that the only way out was to end her life.
Love is incapable of piercing and healing the pain that engulfed Ariel’s soul. She could not conceive of another answer. Suicide was the only way to escape her pain. The pain from mental illness is so powerful that it has the ability to distort reality, and suicide makes all the sense in the world.
Human love can enhance the happiness and peace of the soul, but it is impossible to heal a soul or create happiness where there is none. We can only hope to enhance the happiness and peace of those around us, those of us who survive. To enhance each other’s lives so that we may not just see the light, but can bask in its warmth and love.

A song for a heart so big, God wouldn't let it live

I'm still too...I don't know...to write what's in my head.  So here's some pictures.

This is one of the more...special...kudos that I received from Ariel.

At the Jason Mraz/Christina Perri concert

 Museum of Science and Industry

what is ok

"To the General Public: 
As I’m sure you all know, I’ve been struggling for a while. I’ve been in and out of treatment for almost a year now. Many of you probably thought I was doing better. I can’t say that treatment didn’t help me. It changed me a lot, in the way I am and the way I think. I am so grateful for all the support and chances you guys have given me. Unfortunately, no one could save me. I didn’t want to live, and that’s how it is. Don’t be sad, be happy that I am finally happy. I promise I will do whatever I can to haunt all of your asses. 
Mad peace and love,
Ariel"

this is not ok.  i am not ok.  i will not BE ok.

Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional(ly unstable).

You know how they say you can hide from everyone but yourself?  Ugh.  I hate admitting when anyone but myself is right.  I fucked up hardcore last night, and I didn't do too much better tonight.  I had myself convinced that I was numb to it.  Then tonight, literally seconds after laughing with my mom, I closed my door to get ready for bed and out of nowhere, BOOM, open the floodgates.

You know what REALLY sucks, and I'm REALLY baffled about it?
I don't care about letting myself down; I'm used to that.  I don't care about letting anyone else down.  I care about letting my therapist down.  I know he says that that's not the case...but when all of the stupid shit I did over the past few days hit me, and I realized how much I would have to admit to, that's when I started crying.  We made a connection, months ago, regarding transference and my therapist and my father.  Because my therapist gives me the attention/acceptance/understanding that I never got from my father, I have transferred almost all other emotions/expectations onto Mark.  I DID, however, get PLENTY of lessons on consequences and disappointment growing up, so maybe that's what I'm expecting?
I feel like therapists should be able to tell their colleagues or family or friends or whoever those people talk to about their success stories; especially my therapist, who deserves to tell nothing BUT success stories.  I let myself believe, now and then, that I would be one of them.  And then I just mess everything up, and I know I'm not going back to square one, but I have to go back farther than the last time I stumbled.  I'm supposed to be good at things!  If I'm not good at something, why would I do it?  UGH.  I don't mean for that to sound completely defeated/given up...but it's a thought that's running through my mind.  Ugh crying again.  WHO AM I I DON'T CRY WHAT THE FUCK.

FUCK!

Oh and of course I waited too long to get my meds refilled, so unless my pharmacy or my elusive psychiatrist can pull off a miracle, I'll be even more fucked up AND going through withdrawal symptoms!  f.m.l.

Yeah you're fucked alright

I'm so fucking mad at myself.  Fuck.

Child, the lord won't mind

I've been listening to Spring Awakening again pretty non-stop.  After my journey through treatment, this one song reaches to me.  I used to skip this song every time, but now I can sing with it (with incredible passion I might add), and I do so, very loudly and expressively.  In my car.  Yup.  The lyrics seem fitting considering Thanksgiving is coming up.

The Dark I Know Well -- Spring Awakening (not all the lyrics)

There is a part I can't tell, about the dark I know well

So I leave, wantin' just to hide
Knowin' deep inside, you are comin' to me

You say all you want is just a kiss good night
Then you hold me and you whisper, "Child, the lord won't mind.
It's just you and me, child you're a beauty."

I don't scream, though I know it's wrong
I just play along
I lie there and breathe, lie there and breathe

I wanna be strong, I want the world to find out
That you're dreamin' on me
Me and my "beauty"

It's very hard to take a compliment, when someone calls me pretty or beautiful, because for so long those words brought up the memories of people saying that to me while abusing me.
My head is cloudy now...I'm gonna go to sleep.

Lucky to have been where I have been

I don't have too much to post about today.  Wednesdays are my days off, so I spent the day relaxing and crocheting.  I made a winter ear-warmer and a toy for my cats.  Who's cool?  THIS girl.  I have tomorrow off too, and since I'm in good spirits, I will make myself start on my room.  I have to wash everything I have because even though there are clean clothes everywhere, they have either touched the floor or other clothes that are dirty or have been on the floor.  Reminds me of how mad the BHSs would get at TK at meals because I'd have to keep getting new silverwear every time one touched the tray.  But then I'D get mad at THEM because they'd make me go get ONE carrot or something stupid because I had ONE left that I wouldn't eat because it touched the tray.  Ah fond memories.  Speaking of TK, one of my coworkers recognized my tattoo and told me she was there (on Oak) a few years ago.  Kinda cool :)

Anyways.  The thought that I want to get out there (and make sense of) is this.  I always have some level of relapse once I start feeling too "good."  I start being healthy, and once I acknowledge that, some subconscious part of my brain freaks out and drags me down.  THIS time, I'm acknowledging THAT thought.  Because right now, I'm feeling pretty great.  Even writing that was hard, because my brain immediately wanted to stop me from jinxing myself.  But I don't think I am...I think I set myself up for consistent self-fulfilling prophecies.  Because relapse and sickness are what I know.  I haven't known what healthy feels like since I was maybe 13?  Food is going better, I'm powering through nightmares and I haven't had a flashback in a few days, and though I'm freaking out about Thanksgiving, I'm being rational and taking steps to do everything I can to preserve my recovery.  I even invited a good friend from TK over for the day of chaos, because I know I will need support and distractions, and she's awesome, and we can support each other through the meal part.  And maybe she would play Star Wars Monopoly with me and my cousins?  Man, EVERY year for the past 6 years I end up spending half the evening explaining to Paddy why building a house on Alderaan is a bad idea.  ...Yeah, it would definitely help to have a girl friend my age there!  I still sometimes feel like I'm too young for everyone else.  Maybe it's because no one wanted to be around me and my huge inappropriate drunken mouth throwing everyone under the bus left and right...maybe this year will be different.

That was a long sidetrack.  Long story short, I'm feeling really great.  I'm letting myself enjoy my life, because hey, it's actually a pretty okay life!  I'm going to try my hardest to not let negativity in.  Even now, sick brain is whispering you're NOT okay...you're just covering up how much you're hurting...  Shut up!

It's time to make the life I want for myself! [insert 80s movie freeze-frame fist-pump ending]