:'(

I'm so tempted to drink a whole bottle of wine and then some. I'm already overmedicating myself with xanax so my anxiety doesn't get the best of me, but it's just not working, nothing can numb the sadness in my heart. It physically hurts to be heartbroken, my God, I so do hate this feeling. I knew it was coming, I knew he would never love me. I miss him so much, yet I hate him for the suffering he will never have to experience in leaving and losing me. The last time this happened, many years ago, I was ready to die. That man took so much away from me, I don't know how I even survived without actually going through with killing myself. I'm not even close to how I was then, but I do feel like a part of me has died inside, ready to end it all. I cannot eat, I cannot sleep. I've lost 6 pounds in an entire week and I don't fucking care. Good, at least I'll be skinny out of this agony. But I can't function, I can't work or go to school, I just want to sleep but my thoughts are preventing me from doing so. Everytime I dream, I dream of him and it doesn't help. Then I wake up and a burst of fear and a desperate desire takes over me. I just want him to come back to me, even though again, it would probably mean he will still never love me. It's a toxic feeling. He and I have exchanged letters over the whole ordeal recently, which has been somewhat theraputic, but it doesn't help when I make myself read them over and over again analyzing every little thing. There was more I wanted to ask that I didn't think about at the time, but I know it's best not to ask at all anymore and leave it be. I wonder if there is another woman he's already interested in that played a part in this whole breakup. I wonder if she is already fucking him. I know that sounds sick..it fills me with absolute disgust. I know he said I was more than enough, but I wasn't, I couldn't keep his feelings for me alive. I don't even know if he has any real feelings for me now, attraction-wise. The bit where he continously professed his deep care for me and that he loves me, but not in the way I love him, really confuses me. It's driving me crazy because I keep thinking over and over what does that exactly mean. It's just hard for me to understand how a real romantic feelings couldn't evolve into a unity of feelings/deep or never-ending love throughout the entire time we were together. We spent almost every moment together. Ohhhh...I don't want to type anymore. I'll just take a dose of sleeping pills, cry myself to sleep and be like Scarlett O'Hara..I'll think about it tomorrow. Because that undoubtly will happen.

And the Winner Is..

I just woke up from a terrible dream. Correction: a terrible reality. I have finally determined one of the worst feelings in the world is not simply sadness, but abandonment. You know those moments that you are in-between sleep and awake and a slip of reality seeps through? In a matter of seconds, your dream begins to alter and is forced to reconcile with the truth. "You will never see his face again (his face appears), you will never laugh and smile with him again (you laugh together), he will never hold you again (cuddling as two perfect lovers would).." Panic, panic, panic. And then I wake up. The dream is over, the rush is over, and there I am laying in bed, eyes wide open, in complete despair. The nightmare is living and breathing and it's here now standing in my room, in my consciencous mind. This is so overwhelming to bear. I have no tears left in me to shed but a few soft drops seem to trickle down anyways. I am the product of abandonment, of rejection. Tossed aside. I am nothing.

Slave to the Mouse

Wow, it's been quite a while since I've updated this thing, but here goes. I really need to get something off my chest. It might not seem much to you but it's something deeply personal to me (and I very likely will delete this soon out of regret), but I want to say it. I have a feeling it has been something that has been bothersome to many others, as well as my friends for some time, and that's Disney. This might seem outrageously stupid, but it is important. We all know I talk constantly over the subject. So much where I get on my own nerves sometimes. Truthfully, I've been doing so as if crippled leaning on a crutch; it's my safety net. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a Disney artist. And some of the best memories I've ever had were with my family at Walt Disney World. Back then I was so inspired to go for my dreams. I drew and attempted to animate my own Disney characters. I worked in the stores as a teenager. Soon after there was the Walt Disney World College Program. That experience had a huge profound effect on my life. I very quickly had to adjust to becoming an adult by being on my own. I had my first real love there. I made some amazing friendships and dealt with some very real serious situations. And while there, it was probably the first time I had to deal with some of the toughest issues within myself and grow as a person. Maybe once I got there, something within me changed. Somewhere in that time, I think I might have lost my passion. Part of me in some way doesn't think I'll ever get to that point of becoming a Disney artist. Honestly, I don't know if I really want to anymore. The feeling is not the same. I don't know if I've outgrown my desires or it's a matter of self-confidence. Being an artist alone is extremely hard. To even be considered in the Walt Disney Feature Animation department, you have to be the best of the best. You need at least an art degree from an art institute under your belt and even then there's no guarantee. That costs quite a lot of money. As I said before, I don't even know if I want to try anymore. Why invest so much time and money into something you halfway believe in? Quite frankly, these past few years I've appreciated the fine arts more. I enjoy studying iconic painters, illustrators, photographers, etc. I love painting different types of conceptual art. That's a pretty far cry from once drawing Disney characters. But what do I do with that? The idea of being a struggling artist terrifies me. I want to do it, I want my own gallery. It's something I've been interested in for a while. I just don't know if it's as realistic as I want it to be when it comes to supporting myself for the rest of my life. Should I really get a fine arts degree then? These are all questions in my mind I've been dealing with for years and something I've been trying to figure out. Meanwhile, I've been painting a bullshit canvas of lost dreams and putting on a show for everyone. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate Disney. I just don't love it as much as I once did. I watch my dvds, I look at the art, and it makes me sad. When I take trips with my family to Walt Disney World, sure I have fun and I do love it there, but it still makes me sad. I've been in denial for so long sometimes I just refuse to accept it. So I play it up. I talk about it a lot, as if I'm the biggest fan ever. I cling onto it because as I said before, it's all I know. I want some of that motivation, that passion back to being a great Disney artist. I want some of those happy memories to continue giving me that necessary drive. Sometimes I feel like if I invest myself so much into it, it will. But as I've been learning, feelings can't be forced. You just have to let it happen and not worry so damn much about it. It may no longer be a huge part of my life as it once was, but I should have been honest with others and myself. We all know I'm a sensitive girl and this has been an extremely sensitive subject only because I've been hiding it for so long. It's not my religion. It's not my whole world. Everything can't be revolved around Disney as I've led myself and others to believe. It's just not real. And if any of you feel obligated to put me at a stopping point on the subject, please do. I will talk about it if I must (because it will turn up once in a while), but I do respect the wishes of others more. And the reason why I say that is because before recently, I have heard this before. And instead of doing something about it, I was too proud and didn't respect someone else's wishes. That severed my relationship with that person and pushed them away. It's just not worth it. I don't want to lose the person I care about now, and I dont want to lose any more people in general all because of Disney. This could've been talked out and the damage would have been avoided. For that I feel responsible. Maybe it's best this remain a family thing, you know? And if you think I am trying to change myself for another person, you're wrong. I started changing a long time ago. I just want and need to do the right thing because I care.

Two Different Types of Oak Trees

Let's talk about New Orleans, shall we? I miss it. Quite a lot. Do I put it on a pedistal along with the people I know there? Yes. It seems like forever ago I made my first trip there, and for different reasons, but I can honestly say it was never a forgettable experience. For some reason the city has always appealed to me in a way Saint Louis hasn't. Saint Louis is relatively older than New Orleans, but history is celebrated there, in restoration of a once glorified old south. There is something about the atmosphere that breathes art within this town, in all aspects, musically and visually. A trait that has vanished or never was where I am now. There are so many different elements between the two cities. Saint Louis has it's strength in likings as well. And I'm afraid if ever I left the STL once again, I would miss it. Quite a lot. There really is no place like home. The idea of never coming back breaks my heart. I was born here, I will die here. It's as simple as that. The city itself may not support an artist of my kind, but it does reminise of familiar surroundings, and is a great comfort. I'll miss the forests. The hills. The little things. My family ties here and the growth of my life will never be replaced, no matter where my I am meant to be. I used to hate this place. An immaturity on my part and an excessive need to escape. This place used to represent a bubble, a cage. I want to see the world. Be able to be free and drive anywhere I please. I am a dreamer, and always will be. I've matured to understand it isn't as simple as that. Hard work and responsibilty come with determination. I have a feeling in my soul that I am meant for somewhere else at this point in my life, and I need the funds to support that.

Is New Orleans that place? It's hard to say now. My first move was within a short time frame, ending in disaster. The imperfections in my poor heart led me astray to another situation, another person, that I wanted to invest in but unsuccessfully struggled with. I was completely lost to the sole reason why I wanted to be there in the first place. I proceeded to fall down a long, dark hole of self-destruction. And so I returned home, tarnished of what could of been to the start of a new beginning. An ultimate failure. There are times I regret such hard times, but I know better to see it definitely gave me a wake up call to previous years of self-pity and desire. I am glad by it, but ashamed by it. And so the wounds were mended and the path started anew, and here I am, in the same status of financial debt as before, without the emotionally tormented debt and broken heart. I am relatively happier than ever before. I have grown old in the sense of making better decisions and seeing things for what they are. I understand life a little bit better, almost too much. Yet, my heart still longs to finish what I started, in New Orleans, for a new life. So many years have passed, I am often afraid that phase in my life has ended. I don't need to be there, that much. As an artist, I feel that it brings so much inspiration and opportunities, more so than here. Saint Louis is a business town, and at some point there is going to be a wall unable to climb. The last time I was in New Orleans, I felt as if it were goodbye, a gut feeling to my disliking. I only gather it had might have meant I no longer had the same dreams I once had. And I left (due to my unfortunate company), on a bad note. I have not made peace with this. I wonder if being unsure comes from the death of believing this one day will be successful. This also applies to my aspiring career choice and being able to maintain a stable lifestyle. I am becoming, well, practical, I think. Although I am often told I am not practical. Maybe cynicism comes into play. Another factor is my friendship ties to New Orleans. I find more comfort in the connections I possess there than those I have met most of my life. The people are different. I do not know how, they just are. My connections are often put to a hold everytime I leave, so no, maybe I do not know them all too well. But I value them no less. I just hope I remain faithful in their hearts. This matters in a potential move. Anywhere I go, I want a support system. I want to know people. Moving somewhere without a single person to call on or confide in, does not sit well with me. Being alone isn't even good for a Libra! In all seriousness, it isn't even good for a Maria.

The situation I am in now financially prolonges the ability to move to the next point. And because it's so, I have given up. I may never go back. I may never be a great Disney artist. I may never get into a school there, or any other I wish to proceed. I lack faith although I firmly believe in the concept of it. That's rather hypocritical. It's hard to put God in control, when I ALWAYS want to be in control. I am afraid by doing so, I will end up somewhere else. But wouldn't that prove a better result? I obviously do not know the answers I seek to the course of my life. It's these insecurities that get the best of me.

The Mean Sandman

I'm tired. I'm always tired. Nowadays, I sleep whenever I get the chance, which lately, has been all the time. Yet, I crave sleep. And when I sleep, I'm not really sleeping. I toss and turn, my back and neck hurt, and often I will wake up with a terrible pelvic pain relating to my illness. And no, pain pills do not work. I usually have to wait it out, and that can take several days, or even weeks. I sometimes take a muscle relaxant, which seems to do the trick, but I never can go back to bed. These past few months I've had a great nervous anxiety. Now, I've dealt with anxiety all my life, and this is nothing in comparison to what I've experienced before, but it keeps me from ever truly resting my body, or my mind. I am extremely afraid of my fears turning into reality, and this becomes more bothersome when I lie awake in bed. Often, when I finally do drift off, I have the most terrifying dreams feeding off these worries, and I wake up more anxious than before. Most of my dreams consist of me fighting off some evil harming myself or loved ones. Another reoccuring dream is trying to talk to my friends. I often become ignored as if invisible or uninteresting. Most recently, I am crying or screaming (as I said before, not in waking life). I have several dream books, but it takes no genius to know this is all about lacking or taking control, as well as living out my frustrations. When I would take sleeping pills for my insomnia, I would never dream at all (or at least, not that I remember). I soon became addicted, gained weight, and would be incredibly groggy or have tremors. It feels pretty good to no longer have a reliance, but sometimes I'm just plain exhausted. My chest feels overwhelmed with anxiousness over the few hours I get throughout the night. I try to sleep during the day as an excuse to avoid current reality. I know this isn't exactly healthy, but it's become such an awful habit of mine. There have been many times throughout my life I have been late, lost a job, or haven't done any homework due to these fears and desire for eternal slumber. And then the fallout contributes even more to the problem. I'm not entirely sure how to break the cycle, it's just something I've always done. Movies or books give some temporary comfort. I don't drink anymore, so drinking myself to sleep is not an option. I really am at a lost for recovery, so I'm hoping by expressing my feelings through here, I can give myself some relief to my concerns.

The Beginning

There has been some debate in my head whether to open a window into my personal life. See, I want to talk about it but I'd rather not talk about it. As you can see, I've decided to talk about it. For now. There have been many things weighing heavily on my mind, and unfortunately I've fallen into the trend of speaking of it through blogging, rather than finding insight from others in real life. Truth is, there aren't many others. And often, I find it a burden to discuss some of these things, especially when it comes back to haunt me. This may be the case starting this little world. Probably. I don't appreciate an unworthy or disliking to my personality or opinions, and when feelings in confidence are involved, it damn well hurts and causes me to retract. Delete. Erase any record of ever speaking it. Hoping you'll forget. Not that anything I say is upright offensive, it's just me, Maria. And maybe we can never truly say we know someone. I'd like the keep some thoughts and secrets to the very grave. I'm sorry, you'll just never know. I'm already giving you my trust in this. So all in all, please by the utmost kind. I really am a sensitive gal, and overall, a happy go lucky sweetheart. I'm just like any other person, needing to vent.