so amy winehouse has died, just one month after having to cancel a ‘come-back’ tour as she was booed off stage in..serbia? for appearing too drunk.

death is not a play thing and you should never disrespect the lives lost, however, i can’t believe that it was of natural causes considering her past and her age of only 27 years.

just a shame. drugs kill

sometimes i want to put the blame on someone else. it feels easier that way. it’s easier to say that the mistakes they made were what made me into what i became. sometimes it’s easier to deny the truth. it’s easier to deny the fact that i messed up, i ruined everything,

but at the end of they day I fixed everything again. i sorted my shit out, i fixed my life back up. i stopped turning tables. i made the best out of a worst situation.

you can’t blame me.

when i get to work on coursework and i’m on a roll and doing really well, i start to feel really uncomfortable.

it’s because it reminds me somehow of the times i used to take ‘study drugs’ in order to get my work done in high school, it reminds me of how i felt and how it effected my performance.

it really bothers me because i feel so uncomfortable when really i should just be proud of myself for doing well. but for some reason i feel guilty, i feel like i’m doing something wrong, and like i shouldn’t be this way.

maybe if i slacked off more i’d feel better?

i just don’t understand my brain sometimes…

a picture of something you hate

time for bed. people are downstairs watching pulp fiction. its to the part where the girl overdoses on heroin and i’m just not comfortable watching it anymore.

overdosing was new and interesting before you did drugs. it was unknown and interesting when you did drugs. after doing drugs, not so much any of those things anymore. just pathetic. drugs in general are pathetic to me. nevermind the people who actually do them.

“one day i will be fully recovered for forever. i will never again turn to Ed.” April 18th, 2009. written by me.

i don’t know where to start, and i don’t know what i really want to say this with blog-post.

i guess i just thought i was in a bubble, and nobody could burst my bubble. i’ve been in this bubble for a while now as well.

my parents were worried when i moved to London. drugs everywhere.. apparently. for a full year i didn’t see anything, apart from when i went “home” to dallas. after all it was the heroin capital of the united states for a while.. still is?

don’t think i’m an idiot, obviously there’s drugs in London, probably a whole lot to be honest. but i tried. i tried my hardest to stay away from them. druggies are like magnets, where there is one there is a million. and i know how easily i could be lured into that.

i was a bit naive, i did ignore some signs. i did ignore words that came from his mouth. i ignored it all.

leaving station court and london metropolitan university may have been the best thing i have ever done for myself. i’m genuinely happy, i enjoy going to my classes, and i learn from my coursework. i know this makes me sound like the biggest dork in the world, but i don’t care. i go to school to learn. so i can then get a good job that pays. live a good life, and be healthy.

i’ve lost good friends to drugs. they chose the drug over me. granted i chose drugs over my friends for a period of time as well, but that’s not the point. the point is that i thought i had lost someone who i cared for. someone who always was honest with me, someone who cared. and when that person confronted me and told me how it was.. i was elated. FINALLY, someone who isn’t an idiot. someone who won’t give in. someone who said NO.

i’ve started to censor my blog posts because of the people who read them might get ‘offended’, but i’m past that. i don’t give a fuck if you’re offended anymore. if your stupid enough to snort that shit, then you’re probably too stupid to realize this is me telling you to stop.

i will not surround myself with negative energy. i’m in too much of a good place to be around it. i won’t be around that shit anymore, it’s not me.

i wish things could be different, but it’s not my place to say, so things will stay the same. you could be such good people, but instead your flushing it down the drain. it’s such a shame.

she walked down the lit hallway. like an angel. those thin legs. small arms. tiny waist. i envied her. i knew that one day, i wanted to be that. i wanted to be skinny. i wanted people to envy me. i wanted to be as light as air. i wanted it so badly.

i don’t remember where or when my eating disorder started, or how for that matter. all i know is that one night i was sat on my carpet on my bathroom floor, crying. numb from all the pills. yet starving. headache. heart pounding. scared for life. regretting everything.

i was a zombie. and i finally woke up.

when i looked at myself in the mirror all i could do was cry. i hated everything i saw. i wanted out. i wanted to be somebody else, in somebody else’s body. i didn’t want to deal with the situation i had put myself into. i didn’t wanna stop, but at the same time i wanted it all to end.

pulling myself off the carpet, wiping my tears, and walking down the stairs was the turning point. i chose.

i sat there. trembling. tears pouring like a waterfall. scared for my life.

i couldn’t bear it. the two people who made me, i had to tell them how i was ruining it for myself.

“i’m sick” was all i could manage to spit out. my parents were confused and my tears weren’t helping.

that night will never leave me. those words exchanged, those feelings. i will carry it with me for the rest of my life. good or bad? i don’t know. but it makes me, me. i’ve got mixed feelings, and probably always will. the trick is to learn to live with it. leave it be. keep your head up and keep walking.

i’ve just realized what i’ve learned to love a lot in the last couple of years. after all the pills, drugs, throwing up.. sleep wasn’t really on the schedule. everything i did fucked with my sleeping patterns, some nights i’d lay awake for hours in pain, others i just give up and not even try. then there was the occasional night’s sleep where i woke up in the morning still just as tired as i was when i went to sleep. i now love sleeping. i love sleeping in. i love crawling into bed. i love laying in bed. i just love it in general, and the way i see it… i’m catching up on all the lost hours over the years of destructiveness.

it’s taken me a long time to realize the difference. i used to need drugs. yeah i thought i did, but my life is fine without them. i then wanted them. i wanted the drugs so bad. i wanted that high. i wanted to feel good again. but after a while i then again realized i didn’t want or need them. i thought i needed you. i needed the happiness and the good feelings you brought me. just like another fucking drug. every day i’ve thought to myself about how you’ve always put me last. your needs come first. your family, granted that’s pretty obvious. your friends. everything. your shit comes before me. and after feeling so helpless and unloved so many times it’s got me thinking. i mean nothing. you would replace me in a heartbeat. you treat me like im dirt sometimes. i know im not always easy to deal with, but some things don’t need to be said or done, and it’s to the point where i can deal with things on my own. i have people who love me. i don’t need you. i don’t need your approval. i don’t need you to love me. cause even when you won’t be there for me.. they will. i’ll still be standing on my own two feet. i hope that scares you, because it should. if you even value me just the slightest bit you’d realize what you will be loosing.