2022?!?!

HUZZAH! 

I have better news.

I managed to quit my job that I fucking hate! 

And I'm moving to Texas in April!

WHAT???? I swear to god I'm not lying. Things are actually this good. And I have a lot of mobility and strength in my ankle back. It's not perfect but I can walk.

My sisters are however, still fighting. The rift is open and it is vast.

2021.

 Welcome to 2020 2.0!

No. I did not manage to get married.

No. I did not manage to move to Texas.

No. I did not manage to quit my job that I fucking hate. 

Yes. I managed to get Covid-19, from my irresponsible parents.

Yes. I managed to be one of the 10% of women aged 20-30 who ended up suffering from Parosmia post-covid. It is plagueing my ability to eat or even smell myself.

Yes. I managed to avoid the dentist long enough again to need another tooth ripped out of my mouth, but this time it's in my smile.

Yes. I managed to fall down the stairs and break my ankle severely in three spots. I'm still learning to walk again.

Yes. My last family Christmas in Canada was ruined by my narcisst eldest sister over some fucking pancakes. But hey, at least she's exposed to the rest of the family for what she is now. Something I've had to deal with since I was a child. 

Dear me sometime next year when I update this... please... for the love of god please... have better news. 

I don't write poetry or write at all in general anymore but I'm leaving this below.

_________

The veil.

The veil came down. 
Now everyone can see her through the eyes I wore as a child. The eyes worn out, rolled back in my head in disgust and irritation from the years and years of being told to "give her the benefit of the doubt", to "put myself in her shoes".
Her shoes? What about my shoes?
She forcefully strapped those shoes onto me as a child to dictate and manipulate me, and those meant to protect me. 
"I raised you" she says, and I hear "I restricted you".
"I helped you" she argues, and I know she means "I managed you".
"I lead you" she brags, and I can only remember it being more like "I governed you".
But the veil came down before my tired eyes early on. As if one day I found a crack in the carefully crafted walls that she built with her blueprints of deceit, and my feet, no longer little, but still covered in velcro shoes, meant for the child that she decided needed discipline, kicked and kicked until I made a hole big enough for just me. 
And I took those shoes off at the exit....
The shoes now worn by her little daughter. Hand-me-downs that will train her to be compliant and to fear questioning.
To fear making decisions. To fear the woman who showers her in false affirmations of support laced in restraint.
Lies disguised as love.
Attention disguised as Affection.
Gifts and trips that are nothing but bargaining chips.
I can only hope that her eyes grow tired and weary of the false reality, masterfully patterned around her.
I can only hope she finds the weak spots in the walls and bulldozes them down.
I can only hope that she rips that veil with the power she's given from those meant to protect her, the ones who can see clearly now and will do anything to give her the same sight.
The ones who will help her take off those shoes and leave them to never be worn again.

2020.

Hello from the worst year in my 27 years of existence.

It's not that terrible for me specifically, but we're in a global pandemic, and a human rights crisis. What this means for me, however is that I now work from home like a slob and I can avoid the logistics of moving my entire life to the US.

And you know I love procrastination!

That being said, it's actually likely more so avoidance behaviour and if it wasn't obvious years ago, I also very likely have ADHD. Too bad it takes effort to go see a psychologist!

I have another cat (since 2017 actually), I play a lot of video games and I'm kind of just coasting. I'd dare say, as much as this strange time is setting me back mentally, this is allll I've ever dreamed of.

2020 is strange. I don't really mind.

I mean, once I get past that dreadful feeling of impending doom lingering in the background.

Also I'm better about my fiance's gender thing now. It still feels like something that will go away in a few years, but I'm too indifferent to care now.

Also the whole famjam knows I'm a big ol lesbian now. The only person who cares is my father, as we assumed he would. Everyone else doesn't give a shit. It's cool to have that off my shoulders.

Until next year maybe.

Willow.

Also I lost Willow in September.

2019.

I am not okay.

I am mean.

I'm a mean girl.

But also my partner is mean.

I don't even know how to write this.

I can't deal with all this "I'm nonbinary" shit from her.. It's fucking stupid and feels 100% like a special snowflake thing to be popular online. I don't believe for a second that in ten years she'll still see herself as "non-gendered".

Today has been hard.

Lately has been hard.

We have rings for each other but right now I don't even know if I want to give it to her.

I'll be on a trip with her in like 5 days, and I'll just have to deal with my weird, deep rooted anger.

I don't think this is the person I want to marry.

I'll check back in a year probably.

Hopefully happy.

2018.

I feel like it's necessary to check back in here every once in a while.

Things are good.

I use the word good because they're not excellent, but they're not bad.

Just good.


I'm still happily in love. That's going very well for me. We still have issues regarding marriage and relocating.


-----------

I never finished this but I need to post it.

2017.

Since my last post, I've graduated a Visual Merchandising college program, got a job with an incredible company and moved to a different city (officially next weekend). I've also become the decently famous cosplayer I've wanted to be since I was 13. Additionally, I lost my best friend to a man-baby who she claims to love. Luckily I gained another best friend from it all. And an amazing roommate. Though I'll be on my own soon. Oh and in 2014, I was forced out of the closet by my sister.

I've grown up a lot...

I have fears.

I talked about falling in love with her, you know who I mean. I wrote about her in 2013. We're still in love. Only things are hard... I'm comfortable here with this life. Things are good for me. Things are not good for her. All she wants is for me to move 1,500 miles from home to be with her.

I'd be miserable.

Also, shit is going down in the US... basically dictatorship levels of shit...

I've been living in a state of limbo, that exists in deep waters with a high, fast moving tide... there's been a lot of swaying. Nausea. Anxiety.

Also I almost couldn't recover this account and I freaked out.. this weird blog is actually really important to me. I look back at it. I write the very private things I can't write anywhere else.

I need this.

Please, I ask the world to just send me positive things only this year....

Future.

Since really, I use this as a diary... and a place to look back at for notes about my life, I'll have to mention that I dropped out of university so that I can go and obtain a goal and a life I want in a completely different stream.

I'm going to live for me.
This is maturity.

Roleplay.

It's very, very easy to start to fall for someone that you roleplay with... because you share these intense emotions with each other and suddenly, this friend of yours from 1,500 miles away who you skype with everyday turns into the one person you can't stand living your day without... and you crave getting into character because you can show your feelings and love them and it's completely accepted...

and then one day as a joke you bring up the distant possibility that you could be together.. in a world where you both aren't dating anyone and you are one-hundred percent sure that your RP partner is into women... and then she tells you that she is in fact, attracted to women... and that the 'distant possibility' is more possible than you know... because she wants it too.

And when our followers ask if we're dating, she answers ambiguously, leaving it up to them, rather than outright stating that she has a boyfriend and that you're in a relationship as well.

She tells you she loves you when she logs off, and does so reluctantly, because your absence is just as numbing in her daily life as it is for yours. You say 'I love you too'. You 'jokingly' call each other your girlfriend.

She sneaks her phone at work so she can message you... but so do you. You talk about boring things, gross things, nerdy things, lovely things... sexy things. Things that you shouldn't be talking about it.

She's someone you see in your dreams now... You find yourself counting the miles and evaluating just how long it would take to go visit her... but even if you could... this isn't that alternate universe where you're both unattached and ready to go at each other like prey. Except that you are ready, and you probably shouldn't be.

It is very easy to turn fictional feelings into real feelings.
It is very easy to fall for your roleplay partner.

Mind the gap.

I've been in weird relationships before.
I even dated someone eleven years older than me...
but this is bad.

I'm talking with a beautiful guy in California. (age 23)
I got invited into a threesome with a gorgeous couple. (age 23 and 25)
and [redacted]

Cali. boy is miles away and can never be what I need.
Menage-a-trois couple are super sexy and titillating, but I'm not really into that.
[redacted]

This is what I mean by weird.

(edited in 2020 from embarrassment)

Ugliness.

I despise unattractive people.

I feel sick when I have to stare at unattractive people for too long.
Ugliness hurts me.
Big noses, crooked teeth with gaps the size of canyons.
Overbites so far over-bitten that I fear for the skin below their lips.
Small eyes set so far apart that their peripheral field must be a wide expanse.
Awkward, tall lankiness, the stature of a weak, naked tree.
Ugliness.
Only the attractive deserve my time of day.

I....
I am unattractive. 

Summertime Sadness.

I've been... useless as of late.
It's all a disaster.
School, money, love, life... I keep wasting shit and i'm a fucking slacker.
and i'm fine with the slacking..

I don't want to do anything... but I want summer romance... I want someone. I am lonely. So so so lonely.

Cupcakes.

For years i've lived with the thought that i'm shit at baking, or using the stove in general. It wasn't until more recently that I sat down and decided to try making cupcakes.

The first time, I called Natasha because I wasn't confident.

The second, Natasha came over, and did most of the baking, though I had a blast decorating.

The third time, I did it completely alone, and it was comforting.

The fourth, it was euphoric...oddly artistically freeing and calming and exhilarating... but mostly therapeutic.

It is said that we bake to relieve stress, which I thought to be a myth for years, but the smell of vanilla cupcakes rising, and the colours of icing swirling together in intricate patterns with sprinkles adorning the top, while quiet music blurs into the background, has convinced me that this tale is true.

Cupcakes have brought a silent joy to my day... a smile to my face and made me feel significantly more accomplished.

Oddly enough, I am now living with this thought that I excel at baking.... or at least cupcake decorating...

I am not shit at baking.

Doubt.

Lately I've been doubting myself a lot and I realize that this is the exact same problem I had when I was younger.

Doubting my intelligence, talent, beauty... friendships.

Just doubting everything.

I didn't get into all the second year programs I applied to, more importantly, I didn't get into the ones I was meant to get into (according to my parents and sister).
I doubt I'll ever be something they want me to be.

My cosplays don't get nearly as much recognition as they should... well, at least that's what I first think. Then I think, 'maybe I don't deserve the attention. Maybe I'm just a shit costumer'...
I doubt i'm as talented in the eyes of others as I claim to be.

Beauty.... I fight to convince myself daily that my body is beautiful and I am deserving of my pageant crowns and sashes... but maybe I'm not. Maybe i'm fooling myself with make-up and lighting and well angled selfies.
Maybe i'm not so beautiful.

And my best friend. My beautiful best friend who would probably hit me for this.. but I will always, in the back of my mind think that I am not worthy of her. That i'm just annoying her, and that truly she tells other people that i'm a leach that has attached to her and won't let go. I fear when people ask her who her best friend is, that she says someone else's name, or worse, 'all my friends are my best friends!'....
I doubt her friendship, and I shouldn't, but I do, and I can't not.

Admittedly, I doubt my own being. I doubt what I can do. I doubt what I am. I doubt what I might be. I doubt those around me.
And this is why I'm fading again.

because i'm doubting my existence.

Adventures in infiltration.

I feel like I really shouldn't be mentioning any of this on the internet, but it's not like anyone (except maybe Clara) reads these.

I'm a bit of a creep.
You could even say stalker.

When I want someone who's popular online to be my internet friend... it happens.

Because I infiltrate their friendship circles.

At this point, i've done it 3 times successfully and i'm on my way to another.

I'm devious... and creepy as fuck.

but I get what I want.

Hurricane...

Welcome to the inner workings of my mind 
so dark and foul I can't disguise
can't disguise 
nights like this 
I become afraid 
of the darkness in my heart 
hurricane


I just feel like I can't catch a break from all of this.
November I drank...a lot... alcohol was my best friend... keeping me from the heart ache of having to watch a girl i'd fallen for ask someone else out.. and after we slept together too.. 
December I became unintentionally anorexic. I just wasn't hungry at all... I was ridiculously underweight, passing out and feeling dizzy.. 
Recently gained a safe amount back.. but now i feel like fat shit. Not that i'll do anything about it.
My father is making my life a hell with all this driving shit. I don't want to get my license... I never wanted to, my parents paid $900 for this shit when they knew I was scared to drive.. and now they're wondering why the fuck i'm wasting it.
School is shit, I want to change my major, but my sister who fucking runs my life won't allow it.

I'm failing school, work, my body, my parents, my sister....

I'm just a failure right now.

No one reads these.

I'm actually happy that no one reads these.
There is too much on my mind.
I'm angry and upset all the time, I don't even know where to start.
I'm single handedly ruining my own life and i'm sick of this shit.
I'm sick of everything, like I am every year at this point.
It's like happiness is just taken from me and i'm forced to live under this painful dark cloud.
I don't get a break from it, because it's just a constant pestering anger that stabs me.. i feel it in my stomach and my head.. I want to drink. A LOT.. until I don't feel it anymore...
but I don't think anything will make it all go away.
It's like I actually feel cold.
Frozen.
I just want to die.
No one reads these. i'm glad.

And so it begins...

I have, since graduation over a year ago, been dreading what is coming tomorrow morning.
University.

I'm not exactly sure if i'm excited, or scared, or stressed, or just hungry...
All I know is that I hate change.. I hate commitment.. and I absolutely hate people.

From the few mere HOURS I experienced from frosh week I can already safely say that I don't like it. Everyone is so full of school spirit and excitement.. and I just feel like i'm selling my soul.

Four years ahead of this university shit..
Then two more for my masters degree..

Fuck it all.

My view of the modelling industry.

Let’s start here.
1999.
I’m six years old and a child commercial model.
Also a runway model for the MATTEL Barbie clothing line.
Granted I didn’t have too much success.
Even as a six year old, I didn’t have ‘the right look.’
We gave up.

1999.
My sister is eleven.
She has much more success than I do.
Then she hits 12.
She’s ‘too short’ at 5’5”.
She’s dropped.

Nine years later.
2008.
My sister starts fashion photography.
I become her primary model.
It’s fun.
She gains popularity and connections from agencies.
And we meet models.
And we start to see through their eyes.
Not so fun.

Some of the models we know are absolutely content with their choice of lifestyle, but there are also quite a few who have lost the light that once shined in their piercing eyes. Some who are so broken and frail, not only in their demeanour but in their physical aspects as well. Some who have been victimized and scandalized by photographers and agents. Some, who complain and dread, but continue in hopes of their ‘big break’. And some who are so desensitized by it all that they do it because it’s all they know.

Modelling is glamourized to such an extent that young girls aspire, with all their spirit to become one of these dolled-up beauties on the cover of the popular magazines. Parents will say don’t dream of such grandeur or you would never make it… but how often do we hear them say the life of a model is stressful and heartbreaking, the world will continuously tell you you are not good enough and it could, and most likely will, kill you inside?

And that’s just it.
You will never be ‘the it girl’ in a market that changes everyday. In a world where small noses, thick eyebrows and large ears are popular one day, and the next, the exact opposite, it is only in high hopes that you will get work.

Hearing that you are not what the agency/agent/scout/booker/stylist/artist/photographer/director is looking for looking for, whether it be discreetly or bluntly becomes the norm.
Some girls can handle it.
Others break after so many cuts to their self esteem.

For privacy’s sake, I’ll call her ‘W’.
W is a friend, a model.
W was signed with a very popular modelling agency and was sent to work in Europe.
W, who is so uniquely beautiful and healthy was told that she needed to lose weight.
W decided that she needed to take control of her life, and she quit.
W is a strong and confident woman who I’m glad to call my friend.
But if she were any less confident, she could have been ripped apart.

Ultimately what I’m trying to say is that this industry is so hurtfully depressing.
It can be fun.
But it can also change you forever.

People ask me why I don’t take my modelling career further than it already is.
This is why.
Because I know my limitations. I know myself.

..And I know I would break..

For Isaac.

Today I discovered that a guy I liked and even went on a date with took his life.

We met in November at a formal, Harry Potter themed 'Yule Ball' dance, and this wonderful guy named Isaac asked me to dance... he was cute and fun and I really liked him, he even gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was so happy, the happiest I'd been since months before when when ex-boyfriend had dumped me. This random guy who I had just met, picked me from a table of girls to dance with, and had instantly made my night. We danced and talked and laughed and hugged. After the dance I wrote my name on his ticket and he on my hand. We added each other on Facebook and got to talking.
Found out we had quite a bit in common too, he seemed wonderful, I had fallen. Then he disappeared for a little while and I gave up on him...

Until February 1st... When he asked me out for sushi. I bought a new pretty blue dress and I was so excited for our date... it wasn't exactly the best date of my life, but I won't elaborate. What got me was how different he was and how off he seemed. I figured it wasn't my business to pry, so I just made small talk. When I met him, he spoke so easily to me, but on our date I had to keep up conversation. Needless to say, we only talked a little more after that. Then he disappeared again.

Today I decided I was going to delete him off of my facebook, considering the lack of communication between the two of us.. Upon reaching his page, I was painfully devastated to see the obituary for him posted on his wall... At first I didn't believe it.. but the condolences and 'rest in peace' and 'you seemed so happy' messages confirmed it. He's gone.

I spent this last month telling people about our, not-so-great date and basically not appreciating that I knew him at all...

I learned a few things from this...
Everyone you meet is important.
He made that night in November so special for me, and will always be the one who noticed me in the crowd of beautiful girls in beautiful dresses.
When you see something off, ask about it.
I don't, for one second blame myself for his death, I didn't know him too well, but when I noticed he didn't seem all there I could've easily said 'Hey, you okay?'.. maybe told him a bit about my depression issues and help him open up.
Things happen to you for a reason.
I'm one hundred percent convinced that our date wasn't the best for a reason. If it had been wonderful, I would've probably continued to date him... and where would he be now? Probably still gone... and I would just be broken. I have my fair share of problems, and as much as I don't believe in any god... there was something watching over me.. and at first I thought 'why do I get the good end of the stick, and he has to die so young?'... then I realized that it may have been a sort of relief for him.. in which case, it is what it is.

Nonetheless I'm in a state of mourning.
Even though we weren't very close, I was, at one point, head over heals for him and he was my friend... I will wear my pretty blue dress that I bought for our date and think of what a wonderful young man he was...

Isaac,
Thank you for noticing me. That night in November all I was thinking was how unwanted and unloved I was,  and how no one was going to give me the time of day, and then there was you. Who sat at our table and chatted me up, asked me to dance, and did so awkwardly and adorably. And I felt wanted, and beautiful. And you surprised me with the date, could've gone better, but again, I'm convinced that it was supposed to happen this way. Nevertheless, you were a wonderful young man, who I will miss. Wish we could've talked a bit more, or even hung out one more time... This is unreal, I hope you're resting peacefully. Sayonara tomodachi.
Yours,
AM