You just start writing

I never know what to say. I've never known what to say. I've always been quiet. I've never stood up for myself. Writing is something that releases me. It is silent and it is words that no-one can take away from me. I just start writing.

In my room sits notebooks upon notebooks where random pages are filled with random thoughts. Sometimes everything just flows out of me and more often than not—they don't. That's the reasoning behind my absence on my blog here. I don't know what to say sometimes. But tonight I feel like I have so much to say.

Like I said, I've never been good at letting people know how I feel or what's going on in my head. For as long as I can remember I always shoved everything inside of me. I have been bottling up everything for so long that I don't know how to stop. Lately it has been becoming a problem.

This past week was a tough week to get through. It seemed like everything was falling apart. All of the plans that I had depended on crumbled and the people who I counted on to help me didn't follow through. I found it harder to heal myself this time around. It got to the point where I'd stash toilet paper rolls under my nightstand because I'd be a sobbing, emotional wreck at night. I'd get only 3-4 hours of sleep because of it.

A no-one knew.

And what was I supposed to say to them? It's not fair of me to pass on my problems to someone else. I agree to a point that you always have to talk to people about your problems—heck I want to be a therapist myself—but what happens when you just don't know where to start? What happens when you realize that this problem that just came up to the surface has been haunting you for the longest time? What happens when you figure out that your problem is something that can't be fixed alone? And what happens when being alone is all you've got?

I just don't know what to do.

I keep finding myself going back to the saying "It would be so much easier if...." but right after, I realize that that "if"can't happen. Because I'm living in the consequences of that "if". That "if" is "what if I didn't run away from home?" I know that I wouldn't be in a safe environment, but I wouldn't have to be so alone like I am now. I'd have some sort of security.

My guidance counselors are trying to explain all of these financial resources to me and how I have to fill out different forms along with my taxes to apply for things that I might qualify for. All of this stuff just flies right over my head and at the end of it all, I'm sitting crying in my room because I don't know what's going on. I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do! I don't have any clue what they are all talking about! What forms? How do I do taxes? What are taxes even? And then all of a sudden I figure out that I have to pay for college all by myself. I was qualified as independent a couple months after I turned seventeen. I currently have forty eight cents in my bank account and oh yeah, I'm unemployed. So someone please tell me how in the absolute fuck am I going to do this? How am I going to do any of this?

I know all I say is "it makes you stronger" but when you're pretty damn close to rock bottom, you don't have much strength left.

The sad part is, is that I'm not even done yet. The list of problems that I have goes on for a while. I don't have the energy to keep it going anymore.

So there you go. I started writing and now I'm done for a while. I didn't spell check anything and I didn't even read through this once. I'm going to go to bed now and if you wanted to know....yeah, I'm doing great.

Because that's what I always say.

-Nessa