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eclipse2513
Moon
- Joined
- Feb 8, 2011
I'm copy and pasting this from my old forum, that I had to leave.
Alright...let's do this.
May 2nd 1992 was the beginning date. The conversation about was..lame.
"Trisha."
"Trisha what?"
"Trisha Lee."
"That's a boy name!"
"So?"
And then it was official. That was my name. At 2:55AM I'm sure my mom would have named me anything at all that came out of my dad's mouth so she could sleep. Hell, at 3 in the morning I can hardly blame her! I'd do the same thing.
I have a half brother who's 10 years old the day I was born. He turns 11 a couple weeks later. My dad eventually dies when I'm five years old and my half brother moves out. My mom gets married again to her current husband. This gives me a step brother who is 8 years older than me. Soon, my half brother gets married and has a daughter. Not long after my step brother graduates, gets married, and has two kids, a divorce, a tour in Germany, a tour in Iraq, a couple custody battles, stationed in Oklahoma, remarried, and is going to Korea this week sometime. My half brother has since had another kid. This brings me up to four neices.
Now, it's me, mom, and her husband at home. My half brother lives in Kentucky, my step brother in Oklahoma for the moment. I live here...in Michigan. I'm 18, and stand 5'6'', I'm by no means skinny or pretty. I might have a nice face if it was thinner, I can give myself that much, plus I know my way around a makeup brush. I'm always the friend. Always. I'm never the girlfriend or the lover. Okay, usually. I've had a couple boyfriends but it never lasted long. One lasted but it was when we were young and stupid and hadn't met. Once we met it was brought to an abrupt hault and we haven't spoken since.
I went through consouling freshman year. The consouler was crazy so I faked happy and got let out before the end of the year. I was in there because I was a cutter. My arms, my legs, my stomach, they all looks like some sick slasher horror film. Burns and cuts and bruises, and one day someone noticed. So that sent me me to that crazy lady for too damn long.
I have every intention of being a crazy cat lady. I hate dating, I alays get screwed. Everyone I like likes one of my best friends, which is a real bitch. When taken to a doctor regarding my mental state I was informed I needed attention, not medication, so my mom thinks I'm crazy. Despite knowing my father died of lung cancer/liver cancer both, I smoke cigarettes and smoke slightly less legal things and on occasion drink. I'm going to college to be a Corrections Officer, I have no clue why. Maybe it's just so I can be a crooked corrections officer or something....who knows? Who cares? For 20 something an hour I don't need much reason, now do I?
I used to write poems and short stories. I thought I was bad so I burned hundreds of pages of stuff. I always roleplay a little here and there, but now it kind of makes everything else alright. It makes the lonliness go away and all that other shit that'll make me sound like a true emo kid. I also use music to escape to a place where I'm not myself. I can be anyone. That alone makes me happy. I get very very into my roleplays for that reason. Sometimes I don't post a lot, but I post enough. I post what the character would post in my opinion. I love reading and watch movies.
Sometimes I think I'm crazy. Then I say to myself "People named Trisha coming from an itsy bitsy town called Palms don't go crazy." You have to be pretty, and nice, and people have to like you to go crazy or something. I dunno, I'd never admit I was crazy even if I was I suppose. Right now, the only people that matter in my life are Gabe, Gabby, and Dan. Gabe's my....something. He;s moving to rehab in January so I'll never see him again most likely. Gabby and Dan are my best friends.
Dan has been around since sometime in elementary school. I crushed on him once upon a time but I was the best friend by that point. I got the calls when he woke up drunk next to his best friends girlfriend. I got the call when he and my best friend of the time thought they were pregnant. I got the call when thy goit together. I got the call when they broke up. I got the call when he wanted me to hook him up wth my new best friend. All those calls killed me but I keep on accepting them, knowing full and well what they'll be about.
Gabby is insane. She's unique and gorgeous and hilarious, and awesome. I set her up with her current boyfriend. I liked him first but hey, he liked her and who was I to say no? So I get to hear about that a lot. I love her to death, and she's so adorablly innocent in the way of drugs and alcohol and other illegal activies. I guide her in the wrong, but fun, direction more than I should, but she lets me.
*****
Memories...
These are scattered and random...just...nothing very important. My mind doesnt like remebering anything really. I smoked/do smoke a LOT of pot. So...I dunno. Here it goes, these arent in order.
I musta been in kindergarten, dad was alive. I come running up the driveway and dead stop. My dad's standing there, with No Teeth. I was scared and confused but he just hugged me. He smelled the way he always did and I loved it. I only learned later, that smell was alcohol pot and cigarettes. Possibly why I love all three.
The day my dad died, also kindergarten. I was sleeping on the bus and my brother (16 at the time) picked me up and thre me into the snowbank. I ran inside crying and shut myself in the bathroom. My mom came in all pissed "Did he tell you?! Did he tell you?!" "No, mom, I'm cold." "Oh." she sat down then and hugged me "Your daddy isn't coming back anymore. He died." and I pulled away, and continued crying. I never went back to my mom really, physically I'm here but emotionally/mentally I never could.
First grade, springtime. It was spring because I was wearing capris. I dont wear shorts, even back then I understood fat kids didn't wear short. I had to go pee and I was scared, we were taking a test. I told everyone it was lemonade from snacktime and the kid next to me helped me clean it up. He has a kid now. I get into the library and this girls smiles at me and I think "She's laughing at me. Everyone is." One of my first paranoia bouts.
Couple months after my dad died, mom's on the phone with her now husband saying she can't do this. Over and over and over again. I said "Me neither, mommy." but I have no clue what she was talking about.
Seventh Grade. I start cutting my arms and for the next four or five years I do this and wear black everything. I don't smile, I don't talk. In 9th grade I get caught and sent to consouling so I start cutting my legs, back, sides, anywhere but my arms.
Second grade. My mom gets remarried. Three strikes and youre out? Or Third times a charm? He's an asshole. He hit me a lot when I was younger, but I grew up and mentioned the police so now he just screams and yells until I fall over and bawl. Then he yells a little more about being a baby and leaves. I go and cut up a part of me and am fine for a bit. He's only home on weekends.
Junior (11th grade) Year. I get switched to an alternative highschool. I get a boyfriend and I think we're perfect. One of his friends is bothersome though, saying he is cheating on me etc. I take him in the hallway punch his for a good five minutes in the arm/chest/stomach then turn to my friends and smile real big and say "Let's go." I do not remember any of this.
Alright...let's do this.
May 2nd 1992 was the beginning date. The conversation about was..lame.
"Trisha."
"Trisha what?"
"Trisha Lee."
"That's a boy name!"
"So?"
And then it was official. That was my name. At 2:55AM I'm sure my mom would have named me anything at all that came out of my dad's mouth so she could sleep. Hell, at 3 in the morning I can hardly blame her! I'd do the same thing.
I have a half brother who's 10 years old the day I was born. He turns 11 a couple weeks later. My dad eventually dies when I'm five years old and my half brother moves out. My mom gets married again to her current husband. This gives me a step brother who is 8 years older than me. Soon, my half brother gets married and has a daughter. Not long after my step brother graduates, gets married, and has two kids, a divorce, a tour in Germany, a tour in Iraq, a couple custody battles, stationed in Oklahoma, remarried, and is going to Korea this week sometime. My half brother has since had another kid. This brings me up to four neices.
Now, it's me, mom, and her husband at home. My half brother lives in Kentucky, my step brother in Oklahoma for the moment. I live here...in Michigan. I'm 18, and stand 5'6'', I'm by no means skinny or pretty. I might have a nice face if it was thinner, I can give myself that much, plus I know my way around a makeup brush. I'm always the friend. Always. I'm never the girlfriend or the lover. Okay, usually. I've had a couple boyfriends but it never lasted long. One lasted but it was when we were young and stupid and hadn't met. Once we met it was brought to an abrupt hault and we haven't spoken since.
I went through consouling freshman year. The consouler was crazy so I faked happy and got let out before the end of the year. I was in there because I was a cutter. My arms, my legs, my stomach, they all looks like some sick slasher horror film. Burns and cuts and bruises, and one day someone noticed. So that sent me me to that crazy lady for too damn long.
I have every intention of being a crazy cat lady. I hate dating, I alays get screwed. Everyone I like likes one of my best friends, which is a real bitch. When taken to a doctor regarding my mental state I was informed I needed attention, not medication, so my mom thinks I'm crazy. Despite knowing my father died of lung cancer/liver cancer both, I smoke cigarettes and smoke slightly less legal things and on occasion drink. I'm going to college to be a Corrections Officer, I have no clue why. Maybe it's just so I can be a crooked corrections officer or something....who knows? Who cares? For 20 something an hour I don't need much reason, now do I?
I used to write poems and short stories. I thought I was bad so I burned hundreds of pages of stuff. I always roleplay a little here and there, but now it kind of makes everything else alright. It makes the lonliness go away and all that other shit that'll make me sound like a true emo kid. I also use music to escape to a place where I'm not myself. I can be anyone. That alone makes me happy. I get very very into my roleplays for that reason. Sometimes I don't post a lot, but I post enough. I post what the character would post in my opinion. I love reading and watch movies.
Sometimes I think I'm crazy. Then I say to myself "People named Trisha coming from an itsy bitsy town called Palms don't go crazy." You have to be pretty, and nice, and people have to like you to go crazy or something. I dunno, I'd never admit I was crazy even if I was I suppose. Right now, the only people that matter in my life are Gabe, Gabby, and Dan. Gabe's my....something. He;s moving to rehab in January so I'll never see him again most likely. Gabby and Dan are my best friends.
Dan has been around since sometime in elementary school. I crushed on him once upon a time but I was the best friend by that point. I got the calls when he woke up drunk next to his best friends girlfriend. I got the call when he and my best friend of the time thought they were pregnant. I got the call when thy goit together. I got the call when they broke up. I got the call when he wanted me to hook him up wth my new best friend. All those calls killed me but I keep on accepting them, knowing full and well what they'll be about.
Gabby is insane. She's unique and gorgeous and hilarious, and awesome. I set her up with her current boyfriend. I liked him first but hey, he liked her and who was I to say no? So I get to hear about that a lot. I love her to death, and she's so adorablly innocent in the way of drugs and alcohol and other illegal activies. I guide her in the wrong, but fun, direction more than I should, but she lets me.
*****
Memories...
These are scattered and random...just...nothing very important. My mind doesnt like remebering anything really. I smoked/do smoke a LOT of pot. So...I dunno. Here it goes, these arent in order.
I musta been in kindergarten, dad was alive. I come running up the driveway and dead stop. My dad's standing there, with No Teeth. I was scared and confused but he just hugged me. He smelled the way he always did and I loved it. I only learned later, that smell was alcohol pot and cigarettes. Possibly why I love all three.
The day my dad died, also kindergarten. I was sleeping on the bus and my brother (16 at the time) picked me up and thre me into the snowbank. I ran inside crying and shut myself in the bathroom. My mom came in all pissed "Did he tell you?! Did he tell you?!" "No, mom, I'm cold." "Oh." she sat down then and hugged me "Your daddy isn't coming back anymore. He died." and I pulled away, and continued crying. I never went back to my mom really, physically I'm here but emotionally/mentally I never could.
First grade, springtime. It was spring because I was wearing capris. I dont wear shorts, even back then I understood fat kids didn't wear short. I had to go pee and I was scared, we were taking a test. I told everyone it was lemonade from snacktime and the kid next to me helped me clean it up. He has a kid now. I get into the library and this girls smiles at me and I think "She's laughing at me. Everyone is." One of my first paranoia bouts.
Couple months after my dad died, mom's on the phone with her now husband saying she can't do this. Over and over and over again. I said "Me neither, mommy." but I have no clue what she was talking about.
Seventh Grade. I start cutting my arms and for the next four or five years I do this and wear black everything. I don't smile, I don't talk. In 9th grade I get caught and sent to consouling so I start cutting my legs, back, sides, anywhere but my arms.
Second grade. My mom gets remarried. Three strikes and youre out? Or Third times a charm? He's an asshole. He hit me a lot when I was younger, but I grew up and mentioned the police so now he just screams and yells until I fall over and bawl. Then he yells a little more about being a baby and leaves. I go and cut up a part of me and am fine for a bit. He's only home on weekends.
Junior (11th grade) Year. I get switched to an alternative highschool. I get a boyfriend and I think we're perfect. One of his friends is bothersome though, saying he is cheating on me etc. I take him in the hallway punch his for a good five minutes in the arm/chest/stomach then turn to my friends and smile real big and say "Let's go." I do not remember any of this.
