Relapse.

Begin of blog song: Dream; Imagine Dragons.

I've been on a bender these last few days and picked up on an old habit. A habit that no one even knew that I had to begin with. So, when I slipped back into ways, (sleeping longer, stumbling over words and sentences, sitting quietly with a slightly not there smile, tripping over my own feet), nobody noticed. Not, in the ways that I needed them to. They asked me if I weren't feeling well, and accepted, "I'm just tired" as an answer.
It all started when my brother died, the nights have always been the worst for me, because of the night terrors I get when I am able to get some sleep. But I quickly realized, that the images and thoughts and voices don't disappear in the mornings either.
University is stressful, my stepdad is facing deportation, my grandmother needs surgery and it started, how it always starts. I just wanted to get some fucking sleep. I was so tired of not being able to stop the dreams, of never feelings rested, of always being on. 
So, I took two. Only two... at first. But then, the morning came, and the voices and images, well, they were still there, so I took one more, and the day went on, and I took another, and another, and as many as I could to just stop it all and not feel any of it. Not the loneliness, not the anger, the helplessness, the fear.
I was so scared, and last night, somebody finally noticed that something was wrong, that I was more than just tired. Somebody finally took the time to listen to my story, finally cared in ways that I crave to be cared for.
No, the itch isn't gone, and the pills taunt me from their new hiding place buried beneath the crap in my nightside table.
I don't think anyone ever stops being an addict, but I do think that it's possible to gain control over your addiction. A few years ago I wouldn't have been the one to admitting that I need help, I would have ignored anyone who told me that I deserved better, that I am better.
I'm going to be twenty next month, I want to believe.
I want to believe, and I am so thankful that I have someone like her to let me know that remind me, that it is okay to believe.

End of blog song: My Hero; Paramore (cover).

* On the road to recovery, in the presence of relapse and the quest for control, please remember to never use others as a substance replacement. Don't make another person your new poison, it's not fair to them, and it's not fair to you. Sometimes life happens and people have to go away, don't make their absence be the reason for another relapse. You deserve better. We all do.

update & changes.

begin of blog song: I'm on Fire; AWOLNATION

Hello, friends, and how are you today?

Let's jump right into it, shall we? As you notice, I have deleted my previous blog post (Anne of Green Gables review), no that's not because I've given up already, but because I'm changing domains. I have a tumblr and another blog dedicated specifically towards my book reviews and future career. I figured this way I could continue to keep this blog personal, and keep my future well organized.

Onto more personal issues. I've been silent for awhile, more than awhile. I'd apologize, but I'm not sure if that'd be worth anything. I've been busy, very busy. I've been in the middle of transferring to a university closer to home (I know, don't say a word), and I am glad(?) to say that I've been accepted. So, come April, I can no longer call Sudbury Ontario home, it's back to Toronto, Scarborough for me.

I don't have many updates to make (I guess I haven't been that busy... unless depression and mental illness counts (I'm going to say that they do)), so I guess I'll be signing off here.

See you in a few months or whatever, I'll let you know how everything plays out.

- peace out girl scouts, goodnight cowboys, rest well inbetweeners and keep fighting non-conformers. 

end of blog song: Help I'm Alive; Metric

Daily Blues

begin of blog song: Black Flies: Ben Howard ft. Daughter

Mental illness sucks the most because it makes even the simplest of tasks seem like an unbeatable boss on a game that is constantly on hard even. Even a one hit KO isn't satisfactory because you'll feel like, "well, if it was so easy, how come it took me so hard to do?"

For once, I wish that I didn't have to carry my illnesses with me into every battle I fight.

It's taking me three hours to complete a task that shouldn't have even taken me one. I feel less than inadequate.

Stream of Consciousness, Get to Know Your (Not so) Local Crazy Person.

Begin of blog song: Renegade; Paramore.

Hi, you already know me, so I'm not going to bother with an introduction. If you've been with me from the very beginning, you'd know that although I have my clear days, I am far from being mentally stable.

I'm trying my best to live with my mental ailments and to make it out in as many pieces that I can scrape together (because I doubt that making it out whole is an option for me).

I am not always succeeding.

I don't want to die, but I don't want to continue living the life that I am. A big thing for me while "dealing" (and that word is in quotations because I am using it in the loosest of sense) with my mental illnesses (because there's never just one), is being able to be in control (of anything really, I don't care what).

You see, I have generalized anxiety, clinical depression, depersonalization/derealization disorder (DDPD), paranoia, and mania that often stems into impulsive decision-making or a mild form of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). So, as you can see, whenever I'm having an "episode", control is something that I don't have, not in the slightest.

I don't trust, nor do I like doctors so after my first couple of visits to a psych clinic (where I went after being diagnosed and considered 'at risk' and then was nearly committed) where I was "scared straight" and spoke with a small woman with a very thick undecipherable (for me at least) accent and then handed prescription medication (which I slightly abused, sorry mum), I haven't been back, and I'm obviously now off my meds (and have been for quite some time-- about three years to be approximate). Was coming off of my meds the smartest decision to make? Probably not, but like I said, control, it's a big thing for me and I'll get it any way that I can even if that means mixing meds that shouldn't be mixed and showing up to class high... or simply not showing up to class at all. I can't deal with "professionals" and sterile offices (or cluttered ones), I can't deal with talking to a stranger about all of my deepest darkest thoughts, I can't deal with prescription drugs.

I also can't deal with having to 'use my brain', now hold on a second and let me explain. I'm in university now, about a fourth of the way through my second year. Multitasking is my bitch, simply because most of the time I can't focus on just one thing (after awhile it'll get too noisy in my head and usually ends up with me having an "episode"). If I'm reading a book (I love to read), I'm also listening to music and (usually) having a side conversation (either with a friend or myself). If I'm watching a movie/tv show, I'm also reading a book or playing a game. Multitasking, I can do it, I actually have to do it, to help me stay "sane". So yeah, I use my brain a lot, all of the time, I'm not an idiot (well I sort of am but that's not the point this time). What I mean is, although I can crank out a B+ essay the night before it's due (though there is usually a lot of screaming, throwing things, and crying involved... it's part of the creative process, trust me), I cannot force myself to read a 500+ paged novel. I can't do it.

You see, currently I have a problem that has me bursting into tears and doing everything in my power to not deal with. I have to read Wacousta (the 500+ paged book referenced above), and usually reading isn't a big deal (as stated above, I love reading), however, when I'm eight and a half pages into a book and have no idea what the fuck I've just read, there's a problem, when I have to write both a response and a quiz on a book that I physically cannot read, that is a huge fucking problem.

I've read Twilight, okay? So, there's no way in fuck that I can't deal with reading bad literature, I've been a teenaged girl for most of my life now, I can do it, I have done it. But this book isn't just bad, it's boring, it's terrible, and currently it is my biggest road block and hugest trigger.

I can't allow myself to do anything while I "read" it because then I'd stop reading it entirely, and I can't just suck it up and focus on the book because then I end up reciting the words in my skull but getting lost in my head and not paying attention at all. The pressure placed on myself to read this book (even though I have more than a week to do it and that's all that I have to do at the moment) is making things (to put it lightly,) difficult for me.

Not being able to do something, not being in control, well it's bad. I feel like a failure, I feel worthless, like I can never do anything right, and like I don't belong. I can't do this, and I cannot deal with not being able to do this. I know that this is just a basic part of life, there are always going to be things that I don't want to do but that I've just gotta suck it up and get it done anyways. Logically, I know this, but when trying to complete a task makes you want to kill yourself? It's better to just take control and not do it, it's easier and easy is just about all that I can deal with. I can't deal with stress, not in a healthy way at least. If I weren't at my mum's I'd probably just get buzzed and wander the neighbourhood at twelve in the morning blasting music in my headphones until things quiet down a bit and I don't feel as self-destructive anymore. But I am at my mum's house and anyways, I'm trying not to develop an alcohol dependency (I can see myself going down that road fast), so that's out of the question.

I don't know what to do, and I don't know how to cope with not knowing how to read this fucking book. I never wanted this, I never wanted to go to university in the first place. I mean sure, I have a "life plan" and I know what to tell people when they ask me what I want to do after post-secondary, but I never wanted any of this, and this is exactly why. I don't like feeling stupid or like I can't do something, or like my entire future is dependent on some stupid ass book that I give zero fucks about. I just wanted to work a minimum wage job (preferably at a bookstore or coffee shop) and eventually save up enough money to over time acquire a few small things like a quaint one bedroom apartment (with washing included/on sight preferably if not then one close enough to my mum's that I could just do my laundry there), a small pet to help cope with everything, and maybe even a car if I'm lucky. I seriously don't think that I'm asking for a lot, I feel like that's doable and yeah I'll need help from my mum to deal with some of the payments on shit but for the most part, I can deal with that. I want that, when I go to bed at night that is the life that I fantasize about (minus the help from mum, but you can't have it all). I don't want to be a rich/successful editor that owns some upscale apartment in downtown Toronto, I don't fucking want a university degree that cost a lot more than it's fucking worth and will end me up exactly where I want to be only with a fuck ton of debt and feeling like a failure because I couldn't manage to get a job in the career that I "chose", or worse ending up in that career and having to live that life that I never wanted to begin with.

Maybe I'd feel differently and less stressed/panicky/suicidal over the whole university thing if I could actually afford the whole university thing, but let's be real, I can't and I'd rather cut out the middle-man and impending failure/disappointment, I'd rather not spend my life working forever paying off debts that I can't afford as well as paying to live a life that I wanted but now cannot afford (even more than earlier assumed) due to the fact that I have to pay for something that I never even wanted in the first place, and that's the worst part isn't it? I don't want this, I never did, and I can't do anything about this, because I can't break my mum's heart and disappoint my entire family. So, I'm going to suck it up and try real hard not to kill myself and somehow manage to force myself through reading this fucking five hundred plus paged book (because I will) and then, in a few weeks I'm going to do it all over again, and each time I complete a task I'm going to be forced to do another, and I'm going to be back on a downward spiral (because I always am).

End of blog song: You Could Be Happy; Snow Patrol.

The Skeleton Twins.

Hardly ever does a movie resonate with me this strongly. I went into it expected a comedy and ended it with tears. No, not from laughing so hard, (though there were a few laughs) but from the sheer raw emotions found in the script and the actors portrayal. This movie definitely held no punches. 

As you all know, suicide has played and always will play a crucial role in my life, may that be through past successes or future attempts. A huge theme of the movie was revolved around suicide, which made it slightly difficult to sit through, but not once did I feel the urge to turn off my computer or find something else to watch. The movie didn't handle the subject with kid gloves, but it also wasn't used as a tool to turn it into a tear jerker. It somehow managed to take a serious subject and make it a little less crushing without taking away from it or being disrespectful.

A lot of movies/books that I have seen/read on the subject of suicide have all done so wonderfully, so no, this isn't an original concept, this isn't a new spin on an old tale, but never the less something about it was definitely refreshing in ways that only one other story has been for me (Far From You by Courtney Summers, a YA novel about a young girl dealing with her father's suicide).

The self-destructive paths that the two main characters were idly wandering down was, as morbid as it sounds, entertaining. Their desire to sweep their issues under the metaphorical and overused rug was something that I feel if not all, then many people could relate to. Yet, through a ten-year gap, through the carnage and destroyed lives, they have managed not to necessarily save each other, but to give each other a little more time on the clock to learn to save themselves, and really, isn't that all that any of us really want?

- Peace Out Girl Scouts, Goodnight Cowboys, and To All of You in Between, Rest Well.

Triggers.

Instead of finishing the bottle, I out ran my demons. They'll catch up with me eventualluy, just hopefully not tonight.

All Settled In.

Begin of blog song: Cherry Wine; Hozier

So, I'm officially settled into my new apartment. There were, of course, a few hiccups along the way. The place is pet-friendly, but that doesn't mean that the carpet is. So, this morning, at around six when I could no longer handle the smell of piss under my nose, I googled homemade carpet cleaners and got on hands and knees to scrub down. It's only a temporary fix until I can make it to the shop to buy real carpet cleaner (I can't afford to have it professionally done) but so far so good. I can't smell the piss over the vinegar and soap, so I'm not complaining.

- Peace out girl scouts!

End of blog song: Fall in Love; Popcaan.

Some of Us Have to Grow Up Sometimes.

Begin of blog song: Holland; Ghost Face

So, I move out in a week. That means I need to start making adult preparations. My mum doesn't want me working during school, but I'm not a fan of pinching pennies and I'm only going to be getting the bare minimum to pay rent and buy groceries and have a bit of spending money left over. I'm a homebody but that doesn't mean that I don't end up spending a fuck-load of money on useless shit by the end of the month. So, having a part-time job and a little extra money would stop me from going stir-crazy and leave me with a little more breathing room and a hell of a lot less anxiety at the end of the month. That being said, if nowhere hires me (which probably will be the result as being black in Canada is similar to being black in America and nobody wants you unless you're the whitest black possible) it won't be the end of the world and I'll still get by just fine.
I guess the thing is, I rather have a job that I can eventually quit if things get to be too much than not even be presented with the option. So, wish me luck on my job hunt, I figure that if I start applying now by the time I make it back to Sudbury I'd at least have some interviews lined up, or something. Worst case scenario I go to my university's employment centre and get a job in the great hall or some shit.

- Peace out Girl Scouts!

End of blog song: Cut the Rope; Charlotte OC.

What do I do?

Begin of blog song: Please don't go; Barcelona

What do you do when your ex is manipulative and emotionally abusive? What do you do when you know that you should go, but you feel like you can't? What do you do when you start making excuses for them and brushing off their behaviour? What do yu do when every time that you try to leave they find ways to pull you back in. What do you do, when someone comes to you asking for advice on an identical situation to your own, but you're too proud to admit that you won't be any help because you're in the exact same sinking ship that they are?

End of blog song: You; Keaton Henson.

uhm uh... hmm

Begin of blog song: Wonderland; Taylor Swift

So, tomorrow I have a meeting with one of my friends to plan my going away/home away from home, house-warming party, and today I have to clean my room. Like, I don't have to clean my room, but I totally do, I keep using the move as an as excuse as to why I don't have to/can't (all of my packed stuff are just laying around with nowhere really to go). Honestly, though, I just want to sleep, the only motivation that I have to actually clean is that I hate leaving things for last minute. Hopefully, my random bout of nausea passes in time for me to actually do something with my day, though.

In other news, I've somehow managed to get one of my friends upset with me, I'm not too concerned though because I technically didn't do anything. Like I asked this friend to stop sending me pictures every time they get a cut/scrape because it's something that I'm just not good dealing with (that's not to say that they can't talk to me when they're feeling hurt or when they've gotten hurt, just don't send me photographic evidence). Anyways, she sent me a snapchat today, of her going bowling and then another of an injury that she's gotten that needed stitches so I sent her back a snap saying "congrats on the game", and a text saying (yet again,) "please stop sending me pictures of your cuts" and somehow that got under her skin but like whatever. I'm not her parent, I don't have to kiss her wounds better.

End of blog song: Bad (rendition); SoMo.

Moving

Begin of blog song: Happy With Me; HolyChild.

So, as you may or may not know, I will officially be moved out of my mum's house on the 31st. I'm excited, looking for furniture, thinking about how I'm going to decorate, once again being in charge of my own grocery shopping. I can't wait! I've been packed since like the beginning of August, I've been looking at beds since before then, but holy fuck, I have just found the world's best bed and I am in love. I'll be the first to admit that the place that I'm moving into is a closet, it's a two bedroom upstairs apartment with hardly enough room to turn around in (luckily for me, my roommate and I are fairly tiny). So, as you know, while dealing with limited space, storage is everything, and I have just found a bed to answer all of my prayers... one catch, it's two hundred dollars out of budget.
(This is seriously the holy grail of single beds) Here's the thing, I know that I can convince my mum to get it for me, all I have to do is save all of my other wants for another day from when I can afford them myself, in all practicality the bed is perfect, not to mention it's a bed that I will be sleeping in for the next three years, a sound investment, but just because it can be done, does it mean that it should be? In the end, I'm sure it'll be best to stick to the budget, but a girl can dream.

- peace out girl scouts (wish me luck on my move!).

End of blog song: Make a Shadow; Meg Myers

obsessions.

begin of blog song: My Own; Whitaker

it's so fucking easy for me to obsess about the small things like a tv show or a crack in the pavement because it hurts a hell of a lot less to have my mind filled with meaningless thoughts and to have all of my energy and emotions steady on one thing than to admit that I'm still hurting, that I'm still broken and I have no fucking clue what I'm doing. God, I haven't felt the need to cry for myself in a long ass time, and I just know that as soon as that first tear drops I won't be able to stop.

end of blog song: Coward; Hayden Calnin

The Story of Death and her Lover.

Begin of blog song: Renegades; X-Ambassadors

& I stood there, an offering to death. I stood there, naked & alone in the dead of night, more vulnerable than I've ever been before. I was calm, & I was ready. This was the end, this was what I've been waiting for. So, she unfurled her heavy midnight wings, wrapped them gently around my soon to be lifeless form. With ice cold hands, she grasped my shoulders firmly. Death leaned in inch by inch and I did not flinch, she pressed her lips against my own and I pulled her closely and let loose a sigh of relief. I was finally free. This is the end, and I am so grateful. I was so grateful that I left without a goodbye. I was so grateful, that I did not see that death began to cry.

End of blog song: Someone New; Banks.

5 and Counting.

Begin fo blog song: Heartbeat x Car Radio; Childish Gambino / Twenty One Pilots

"I don't know. I don't know anything. All I know is that I want my body to be covered in ink. I want to drown in it. I want them to be able to read the story on my skin. The story of a that I tried to live."

One Day.

Begin of blog song: Every Other Freckle; Alt-J

I want to die, but that's not right either. If I really wanted to die, I would. I want to cause enough pain and damage to my body that it's irreversible, until what I'm feeling is finally justifiable. I want to tear away at my chest with my nails, claw away at my ribs and rip out my heart until all that is left for me to do is to sink my decaying fingers into its beating pulses. I want to locate the hurt and make a physical manifestation of it. I want everyone to have a visual representation of what it's like living in my skin. I want to write, "fragile, handle with care" on my being and then fling myself down a winding set of stairs. I want my bones to break and shatter, I want to make sense of my pain in a way that I can comfortably justify and everyone else can readily identify. I want to love myself one day.

End of blog song: Good For You; Selena Gomes ft. A$AP Rocky.

Dreaming.

Begin of blog song: Terms and Conditions; Chet Faker.

I dreamt about you for the first time in forever. I don't want to go into detail about it, but I wasn't prepared. Crazy how someone can completely shatter your heart and you can still see the good in them, still see recognize the parts of them that you fell in love with even when they refuse to show it to you as willingly or as often as they once have. Even if they still manage to do things every day to further break your heart, but you refuse to leave because once in a blue moon they show you the person they use to be. They show you the person that use to be in love with you too.

End of blog song: 90210; Blackbear ft. G-Eazy.

Pub Night.

Begin of blog song: Jim Morrison; Jon Bellion

So, as you know, I'm back in action. As you also know, I didn't post anything yesterday, and for once, I actually have a pretty good reason as to why that is. Yesterday, I decided that I wouldn't post anything until the evening, that way I'd actually have something to post, but instead of staying in all night like I planned, my friend, M, talked me into going out with her to a pub. We drank, a lot, I drank slightly more than a lot if I'm being completely honest. Now, usually I can hold my liquor like a champ, but I also usually don't drink on a completely empty stomach, mix my drinks, or drink things that taste like they've been made in a sugar factory. As a result of breaking all of my usual rules, I ended up being "white girl wasted". There was a lot of vomit (sorry TTC), a lot of pouting and nearly crying, and even more laughing at stupid shit and having to pee what felt like every five seconds. To make things worse, I also drunkenly texted my ex (my ex and I are actually on pretty good terms, so my texting her at all isn't really a weird thing.., me texting her that I love her? Yeah, that was weird as shit). By the time I got home, I was hardly able to pull myself together enough to brush my teeth, take off my vomit covered jeans (ew), throw my bra somewhere and collapse into bed. Thank god M was nice enough to actually make sure that I made it into bed and completed all of those tasks.

Today, was a lot more mild thank goodness, I woke up at around seven (not hungover thank god), cleaned my room, watched Teen Wolf, and now I'm making myself dinner (pasta!). Even though I had a lot of fun last night, I don't think I'll be doing that again, or at the very least if I do I'll make sure that I do it a lot wiser.

Remember kids, learn from my mistakes, "beer before liquor never sicker, liquor before beer you're in the clear"!

-Peace out girl scouts.

End of blog song: Someday; The Strokes.

Update.

Begin of blog song: Ship To Wreck; Florence + The Machine.

Hey, there. So, it's definitely been awhile, hasn't it? In my previous post I mentioned that there would be pictures along with this update, however, I'm currently on my period and so pictures are sure as fuck not going to happen. Let's begin.

Name: Drew
Age: 19
Date: 08.08.15

University update:
1. dyed the back of my hair bright pink and the front bright blue.
2. moved into dorms.
3. met my roommates (there were five of us in an apartment like setting, I shared my room with one other girl, let's call her O).
4. came out to my roommates (I'm out to just about everyone at this point, my room in my mum's house has like two pride flags in it. If someone doesn't know that I'm gay it's because they're not paying attention, not because I'm still in the closet. It always gets better).
5. had a major freak out over having to go through the anniversary of my brother's death without my family's support (that never really gets easier, sorry).
6. met E and the rest of the gang.
6.5 developed a major crush on E.
7. dyed my hair dark purple.
8. Halloween; got drunk off my ass and danced all night with E.
9. permed my hair for the last time.
10. got into an argument with O (realized just how much I hated having to share intimate space with another person... there were a lot of arguments).
11. bleached my hair and dyed it lilac, decided that I am not going to perm my hair anymore.
12. got tattoo number three with E for my birthday (we did not get anything matching, I only have a matching tattoo with one person, and that's my sister... yes, that sister.)
13. got over my infatuation with E when I realized that although there was something between us, neither of us were willing to make the first move
14. my sister gave birth for the second time.
15. decided to live off of campus for my second year with E (dorms are, a fun experience but you have to keep in mind that a lot of people are living away from home and experiencing their freedom for the first time ever)
16. survived my first set of exams, found a place to live for my second year throughout, moved back to my mum's house for the time being.

Summer update:
1. got two new tattoos (making a grand total of five).
2. actually got a summer job.
3. lost my summer job (not my fault, it was babysitting, the mother had quit her job.) and was unable to find a replacement job.
4. shaved half of my head (the sides and the back).
5. took a pole dancing class. (I'm not even close to being sort of sexy).
6. decided that I am not longer going to colour or flat iron my hair (finally going to have a healthy hair journey)
7. went to my third ever annual pride event with K that just so happened to be a pool party (there was lots of alcohol, and lots of dancing, I even took a dip in the pool).
8. E came to visit (then I went to visit her).
9. had my first club experience with K (the worst parts were the sober parts).
10. played a drinking game on the beach.
11. looked for jobs, turned down jobs.
12. hung out with O (on more than one occasion, it was fun).
13. spent more money than I own (learned about the downside to owning a credit card... it's okay, I'm in the green now).
14. obsessed over the fact that I'm moving out at the end of the month. (I'm still obsessing over this, let's be honest.)
15. my ex-girlfriend (yeah, the one from high school, it's complicated... not really, I'm still in love with her, she's not in love with me, she's my kryptonite) decided to leave and then re-enter my life again on multiple occasions. (On this particular occasion she told me I'm beautiful and that she misses me... yes, I'm perfectly aware how unhealthy and emotionally manipulative this all is, I'm trying my best to deal with it.)
16. found a temporary job that won't make me want to kill myself. (hopefully).
17. my mother left to go to Jamaica to attend a funeral.

I'm sure that I did a lot more than that, especially since this was/is my first legal summer in Toronto, but it's 1 in the afternoon and my cramps are kicking my ass, (the KC's have never left), forgive me for not being thorough enough. I'm not perfect, my life is always going to come with a slew of ups and downs, but I am trying to become someone who I won't always hate. I still live with my mental illnesses, I still keep things from the people that I love/care about, I'm still mean and cruel and broken, I still feel like I'm drowning sometimes, but I try not to let that get to me as much these days.

-Peace out girl scouts.

End of blog song: Eyes to the Sky; Jon Bellion

Who knew? Not me, that's who!

Begin of blog song: House of Gold- Twenty One Pilots

I actually thought that I deleted this thing. I can't believe it's still here.

So, I'm back... sort of, I don't know, that's sort of the theme of my life these days; "I don't know". It's fitting, I guess. My first action of being back involved me going through every post ever made on this blog, editing it, and then commenting where I saw fit. One thing is for sure, I am equal parts funny, annoying, angsty, and embarrassing.

I reckon I'm going to get back into the swing of things, see how long I can stay consistent with it all. Tomorrow I'll be posting a life update (pictures and all), a lot has changed.

I want to put it out there that I'm not continuing this blog for the views, I'm doing it because although some parts were painful to look back on, I'm glad that I had something to look at. I live on through my words, it's going to be one hell of a trip when I look back on this site in another three to four years and see how much I've grown and changed.

I've come a long way, and although a lot of things have stayed the same, a lot of things have changed as well, and mostly for the better.

So, I'll see y'all tomorrow. To those of you who have stuck with me, or those of you who will eventually find me in the future, or heck even to future me, thank you. Thanks for carrying on with me.

End of blog song: Not Today- Twenty One Pilots