I lay there, on the edge of someone else's bed and in a room that's not my own, loneliness wrapped around me like a blanket. A blanket that no matter how much I snuggled into, I could find no warmth in. Fighting off dreams that vear off into possible nightmares. It's hard not to fall back asleep, though. It seems that the real nightmares are in the place I see when my eyes are wide open. For the past few weeks, if not months, or possibly even over a year now, I would let myself fall into such a coma. In a place where I, nor nothing else, exists. This time it's different however, I want to fight. I want to open my eyes and be glad to have done so. Yet every time I open my eyes, Reality is there, inches from my face, staring back straight into the depths of my eyes with no trace of compassion.


I haven't been going to class. It's been over two months now, I think. Yet, every morning, I wake up early (in time to get to class, of course). I get ready. Have a quick breakfast, if time allows. Get in my Jeep. Get on 820 heading north towards campus. I then exit Silver Creek. Head west. Trough sharp curved roads sorrounded by trees. I park at "Camp Joy" park. I then do one of two things: I either get off and contemplate what the hell I'm doing, or if I'm still tired, I remain in my Jeep and sleep for a bit. After a few hours of having done so, I get back in my Jeep and go back about my regular business. As if nothing has happened. As if what was supposed to be done, was done. I go home. Get something to eat. Go to work. Then do whatever it is I do after work, depending on the day. Probably something with the youth. You know, lead. Guide. Direct. All the things that I lack.
Recently, though. I haven't even been going to the park. My friend Robyn, which you all may have heard off in previous blogs, has kindly allowed me to go hang out or sleep in her apartment. I mostly sleep. The moment I can, I leave. I care for her. I don't know why. She doesn't want to care for me. I know I deserve to be treated better. But then again, maybe I don't. I had what felt like a hundred dreams as I lay in her bed today. She laid "next to me", but what really seemed like the complete opposite side of the room. As if I was some stranger lying in that bed with her, not a friend she's known for years. The dreams had little sense. I kept kissing her. Then I'd realize that it couldn't be real and I'd wake up. But then we'd kiss after I'd wake up, only to realize I hadn't really woken up. And so on and so forth for a bit. In a couple of these odd scenarios she would be a little girl who would rapidly change into the girl she is now. Then I'd wake up. I also got upset and walked out of the office building and into the street where I flicked my cigarette in the direction I had come from. I was through with her crap. So, I lit another cigarette only for it to turn to ashes as quickly as it was lit. I'd try litting one after another, only for the same results to come about. I was frustrated with my cigarettes. Then I'd wake up. I was with my dad and he wanted to watch a movie. I got in my Jeep and drove by the Stock Yards here in Fort Worth. A white and brown bull in a pen was making a big fuss as I drove by. He busted out and chased my Jeep. It somehow caught up with my Jeep and went in front of me to face me. I tried to either back up or drive around it. Somehow I just couldn't. It rammed my Jeep. Then I'd wake up. At one point or another I got tired of all these dreams, forced myself awake. And left. This time it was real. I came home and slept until it was time to go to work. I slept an empty, dark, and dreamless sleep.


I'm not happy with the way things are now. Not that it takes a Freud to figure that out.


I don't know what to do. I'm not looking for help this go around. I'll listen to any thoughts, but this time I've realized this a far deeper hole than I thought I was in. No one seems to grasp my situation. Not clearly anyway. The few that do are as lost about it as I am.
My dad's feeling guilty about how he's been spending his money. My mom brought to his attention that we know of all the vacations he takes with the other woman and his family. He tried to deny it for a second. My mom told him to not even try it. So he's sending my mom and me to the Bass Hall to watch the Nutcracker. I'm excited. He's also wanting to send me on vacation to London. Just me. I fear if he does that, I may not want to return. I'm crazy and desperate enough to do it, too. All I'd have to do, is keep lying about the son they think they have. Keep pretending that I'm something to be proud of... just long enough to get on that plane. Just long enough to find a way out.
I'm such a wretched being... I hate lying to my mom. Even to my ill-mannered father. But I just don't know what to do... I don't know.


Maybe I'm just far more broken inside than I ever realized.

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Change of plans

If you can call it that.
My mom had her surgery last friday. She had an oblation on her liver. For those who have no earthly idea what's going on, which should be the vast majority of you, if not all of you, here's the skivvy:
Firstly this isn't something I share with many people, and this is an understatement. I'm not ashamed, or prideful, or anything like that. I'm just not the type to be all open to my troubles or my family's troubles with everyone. In most cases, the only place where I actually DO share anything personal is on a blog of some sort. Recently, I have been a nutang devotee, of course, though. But I just hate for people to start pitying me or trying to talk to me about stuff. Secondly, if I was open about all my troubles people would think that I was some sort of person that loves to be negative. The truth is that things are just rough with me and have been for a while now. I neither need pity nor misjudgements. So this is what's going on with my mom.
She was diagnosed with a tumor the summer before my junior year in high school, four years ago. After the operation it was found to be malignant. Since then things have gone horribly awry. Me and my mom have changed an unnatural amount since then. Here in Fort Worth there is only two cousins that have their own families. My dad lives in Minesotta. My brother then lived in Mexico with his family and the rest of ours. So it was just me and my mom. At first our church was there for us 24/7. This is when I realized just how much of a part of our church we were. But since then, my mom has, after MUCH chemo and treatments, gotten rid of the cancer. Then it's come back. And left. And come back. This last time the doctor told us that this probably wouldn't be something that would ever get better. This will just become part of routine until then. She's at level 4D. The most advanced. It's started in the colon, and now is in the liver. She's gone bald once, she's had a collapsed lung, she's gone through the emergency room because of a clog in her lung, she's vomitted left and right, she's been fine, she's been horrible, she's gone through hell. All the while she had two jobs. One is as a middle school cafeteria lady, where she has to do hard labor despite her condition because her manager thinks it would be unfair to everyone else. The manager gives my mom hell and tells her that she's using her problems as excuses. The other job that she had up until a year ago when the place shut down was at an arcade inside the mall.
She's done alot. She's gone through alot...

I don't have pictures up here yet just because I haven't had time to figure all this out yet, but if you'd like to see a picture of her you can go to my "dreaded" myspace. www.myspace.com/elessar257

So, she had her surgery.

And I spin on ice again.

I can't leave her. And I can't stay. I die either way.

I often go to my friends with problems because I often wonder if I'm not seeing all sides of something, or I fear I may be turning insane.
But I'm not mistaken. I'm screwed. There's no way I can turn. Not only am I screwed, everyone else is screwed as well. I've lost me. And I can't find my strength anymore. Things get foggier every day.
I feel like Bilbo in the Mirkwood Forest. He roams around in the pitch black, grasping at whatever he can, at random he'd see light in a distance. He would draw nearer and hear some sort of feast or banquet. But each time he'd get through the clearing, everything would go dark. As if nothing was ever there. No light, no laughter, no warmth. Was it in his mind? he wondered.

So, I'm lost. Maybe I should just stop searching. Maybe it's like that time I lost my mom at the mall. We spent three hours looking for each other. We were pissed when we found each other. It's not a big mall. Somehow we managed to keep missing each other because we were both walking around the whole mall. Maybe if I just sit tight long enough...

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