Indigo_Rain's reply history at Help.com

I have to say: I’ve gone through a lot of those things.

Maybe not in the same way: I have not raised kids and it was my best friend that killed herself, not my boyfriend, but I’ve gone through the rest of it.

I’m 15 years old. Trust me, I understand the horror. And I understand that no one understands, that its worse then anything, that when you shut your eyes sometimes you flicker back to it, I know that sometimes people will grab your arm or your wrist or where ever he bruised you and you flinch without meaning to.

Take a deep breath. It’s all in your past. You have to keep thinking that. The cutting, for instance, that’s the present. That’s pain that’s /now/, not an old wound (that never seems old)B But everything else: time heals all wounds.

[quote SpazzySpizzy]thats beautiful.reminds me of myself.[/quote]

*ducks head humbly* thank you very much! I’m glad you liked it.

Ok. Take a deep breath. Everything right now probably seems like nothings working. Focus only on a beach or something calming. Then try to take action.

First of all, did you try professional help? It sounds a bit like depression is what’s getting to you, and that’s not your fault: it means that the chemicals in your brain are messing you up. A few pills (they’re not as bad as they sound) and you’ll be up on your feet in no time.

But if right now you just wanna talk, you came to the right place. I’m more than willing to talk to you about anything you’re feeling, and I promise I will do my best not to let you down.

Being suicidal can also be because of environmental stimuli that are getting you down. Anything going on?

Founding Friendships, maybe? (says the non-creative person.)

Be patient with my lame attempts at helping you, yeah?

True Beginnings
Lasting Connections
Friend Ship

…and with that /extremely/ lame one, I depart with out further making a mockery of myself. *vanish*. Lol, I hope I might have helped at least narrow down what you Don’t want.

Ah, if it isn’t snar.

Course I remember you, silly. I mean, I should, right? So you remember meh? *doubts it*

Anyway, los writing skillz are still topnotch, you know that, right?

Then stop trying that way. Whatever doesn’t work, don’t do it. Obviously if girls aren’t working out for you, why not guys? Seriously, I mean it. If something isn’t letting you live right, its some part of you saying “this isn’t me, sorry.” I know I like art cause its the one thing that can get me happy. I know I like dance cause afterward, I glow. I like activity because I think “this is me, I am real” instead of fading.

So maybe you’re not supposed to be introverted, maybe you plan too much. Be interesting: don’t let yourself get bored, ever. Be spontaneous, be new. Comb your hair to the left, ride a bike with no hands, curl your dog’s hair. Something new.

*coughs self-consciously* Same here *cough*.

ANYWAY.

Yeah, treading grey stinks, don’t it? You fake smiles and play with your friends and wonder why everyone thinks everything’s ok with you. You try to like people, you try to feel excited, elated, even embarrassed. You get to the point where you can’t even understand the emotions anymore because your heart seems to have currently removed itself from your chest, thanks very much and it won’t be back forever. You are passive about everything, anything, because it doesn’t mean much to you anymore. things you enjoyed are…things you used to like. The world spins and you just kind of sit spinning on it, playing your role to perfection and waiting for someone or something to wake you up.

Doesn’t work, mi ami. The question I ask is “what do you wake up for in the morning?” because everyone needs something to get them out of bed. Not just for school, but for other things. Because you really want (whatever) or you’re going to see (whoever) and therefore you can manage to move your body without the weight of the world casting weariness over you.

Find something. Dance, art, anything. Live it, love it.

*cough* I disagree *cough*.

Writing-wise um OHMIGAWD how the heck do you get the words to listen to you like that but I’m afraid I kinda wanna argue the point, just a bit. I feel like being a Nagging Nellie, it would appear.

Negative thinking is usually more of a pessimistic view of the world then one that brings on any of the seven deadly sins. In fact, it would appear the opposite, considering that someone with /truly/ negative feelings wouldn’t assume they could even get a girl in bed, much less talk to them. A true pessimist actually is quite the debby-downer and doesn’t really do all that much. The feelings of lust, ect. are a biological response to stimuli and therefore unavoidable unless by medical intervention. Actually, part of the defining quality of “life” is “an organism that responds to changes in its environment”.

I would like to think I’m quite the positive thinker. I beleive all humans are essentially good, ect. I’m like a walking playbook for “things will get better spend this time just thanking the universe for what you have”, but I’m still /human/. I experience rage, hurt, greed as much as any other person. I don’t like it about myself, but since our evolution, our minds have been taught to fight for our self and our kin first. No amount of positive thinking can switch off negative emotions, I’m sorry. Plus negative feelings often /negate/ things from happening: instead of thinking “well I’ll sleep with her and things will be fine” a negative thinker supposes “if I sleep with her she’ll hate me and we won’t ever be friends again and I’ll catch an STD and then The World Will End.”

…yeah. So. Just saying. I think positive thinking is good, but not every evil is the spawn of man’s viewpoint on the world.

Oh look *cough* a distracting speck of distraction that makes it impossible to see how late I’ve answered this post. Oooooh, speeeeck…

On the other hand, I know /exactly/ what you are going through. I don’t mean mydogdiedhewasmybestfriend I know (which, btw, is true as well BUT) but I mean the same thing happened to me, minus like a few details.

My best friend and I were like twins that had been accidentally born to different families. She was tall and blonde and sweet and I was short and rough, we were two halves of the same whole. She showed me magic and faeries and love. She showed me how a bush could be a home, how dreams made up the sky, how light filled everyone’s heart if you looked close enough. She taught me to love animals, to love my family, to love the rain and the sun equally, to live in the moment and to always give my heart and soul into everything I did. I would like to think I taught her something as well, but to be honest, I don’t think I did. There was nothing I could teach her, that wonderful girl. While I was wrapped up in gymnastics and ice skating and dancing and cheer leading, she was reading books and drawing the most amazing pictures. I still have yet to see her equal in the arts. She taught me the art of words, mostly, and I still thank her daily. She and I, believing in magic and the supernatural, both cut our palms and exchanged blood, knowing that it was the only way for us to be true blood sisters. If one of us was sad, the other cried. If one of us was happy, the other would laugh. We were not only inseparable, our souls themselves intertwined.

Which brings us to the sad portion of this story.

I don’t know. I don’t know why, I don’t think I’ll ever know. I was in 4th grade, seriously, I couldn’t even /spell/ suicide, much less think about it, thank you very much.

I didn’t ever read the note either. It’s still in a box with all of her favorite books, with all of our memories locked up inside. The keys to the lock are on my wrist, in case I ever want to rub up against her again. But I rub up against her all the time - every time I breathe, I think of her.

Its because of her I’m sweet, I’m a writer, I’m superstitious. And while the pain fades, she never does.

Oh.

My.

GAWD.

I’m so happy for you *jump and squeal jump and squeal* where are you going to live where are you going to school how long and OHMEHGOODNESS

Oh, sorry, Hi, I’m indy, remember me? naw, s’ok, I barely remember myself.

on the other hand, sucks about deh parents. Sill adults they had to ruin your moment D:

Awww D:

Sometimes life really deals lemons, doesn’t it? But don’t let your parents get you down.

In a semi-related note, I wanted to be a vet for the longest (I mean LONGEST) time, building my high school carrier under that idea. But one morning I woke up and realized that I liked helping /people/ so much more. At first I couldn’t even tell myself that, and most definitely not my parents. They would freak, I thought. I could hear their voices in my head going “but what about everything you worked for?” or “don’t throw everything away for one stupid thing” or worse - they would just look at me with their “I can’t even beleive you just said that, I’m so disappointed I’m not even going to grace you with a comment on how disappointed I am” look.

And I was already dueling with myself - I was safe as a vet, plus I knew which colleges I wanted into, what I should work for, the grades the extracurriculars. I had it down to an art. And I love animals, and I love helping. I get joy out of inspecting the ligaments in a chicken wing (the vegetarian sheepishly acknowledges)
my life is set out for me in the way I planned it to be. And suddenly, I decide I’m going to be a shrink? Just like that? No plan, no future, nothing.

Well, long story short, one day while the family was watching t.v together, I twisted in my seat and said simply, “I want to be a psychiatrist.”

They didn’t even flinch. “I thought you wanted to be a vet?” My mom said but I shrugged. “I dunno.” she then copied my shrug. “If that’s what you want.”

Soooo what I’m trying to say (way to take your time getting to the point, Indy) is follow your dreams. Your parents are reasonable creatures, I’m sure. Face them as you would face any adult of equal status. If they’re not happy with it, remind them that it is your decision. Don’t raise your voice. Don’t freak out. Calmly inform them as if you were telling them the time. It’s your life, go live it.

Good Luck.

Stalk him. what a better way to get him to speak to you then by informing him his living room furniture doesn’t quite match the drapes?

In all seriousness, do actually insert yourself into his life. If he’s a band geek, find some band friends and hang out with them. If he’s, I dunno, football king, suddenly develop an interest in touchdowns. Make friends with his friends and pretend not to notice. If anything, raise an eyebrow and be like “I’m sorry, are you stalking me?” Be calm, cool, collected. Make your presence known, and he’ll slowly start to wonder what’s up with that cute girl who’s nice but doesn’t realize he exists.

Be yourself. If you can’t be yourself around him, its no good. If he falls for you, good for you. But if you discover in the process of making friends with his friends that Brian is so much cooler why didn’t you notice him before, then all the better. And as the song goes, make new friends but keep the old.

Good Luck.

Oh my dear heavens, child, your words are like…I can’t describe it but I know it’s /good/. The writer inside of my bubbles up and does a little happy dance like “ohmygawd did you just read that? that was *happy dance of joy*”

On the other hand, once I get past the euphoria you have just allowed me, the poem is actually very distressing. It somehow marks a part of life that all people seem to go through, but at the same time it’s very personal. It makes my head hurt D: (not that my head hurting is an uncommon phenomenon…)

And I’m afraid that happiness comes in many many forms. Not to dispute you, but I’ve experienced happiness through so many things. Reading a book, dancing, walking through the woods, taking a nap, dreaming of July, speaking poetry to see how it sounds, singing, making a snow castle, making a failure at food but eating it anyway, making a fire and keeping it alive, writing, heck even scrubbing bring me ecstasy. Now, this could be because I’m a crazy person and have my odd tendencies, but I find I rather enjoy these moments of solitude, when I can expand my soul as far as I wish, be a princess or the dragon, where my mind sweeps me away and I’m free of responsibility. But then again, I’m a crazy person.

I dunno what I’m trying to say…maybe something deep or maybe something as see-through as “happiness is what you make it” *bats big brown eyes innocently* it’s up to you.

Boys are stupid. Chuck a rock at him. Spill out all your anger, your misery in one day. Give yourself a day or so to think all about him - what could have been what might you have said, ect. Then, Get. Over. Him. Go for a run until it hurts too much to breathe, lose yourself in the confines of a favorite book, make a list of his bad qualities (he always /did/ smell a bit like dog, and come to think of it, his way of laughing gets on your nerves - not that he does laugh. Not a very humorous boy, that one) as soon as you start, you’ll find yourself slowly letting go. Listen to angst music way high (even music you normally wouldn’t delve into) learn that you love nature, dance, laugh, sing, take up needlepoint. You don’t need him.

In the meantime, remember that there’s someone, probably, who is in your situation - except they love you but you aren’t even aware of them. Be kind, smile, laugh, enjoy the world cause you only live once. Time shouldn’t be spent on dumb boys that won’t amount to anything. You were destined to be a star, don’t let him dull your shine.

And shine on. As a way of showing him you’re that much better then him: shine until your heart bursts with joy.

Good Luck.

[quote Sans]Those darn hospitals. You go in a girl and come out an amphibian![/quote]

*darts tongue out* I’d like to think of myself as a newt, yes.

*goes around being newty*