I'm Tired...

I don't know what to say today. I'm confused. I've got so many people sticking labels to me but I don't fit in with any of them. I'm tired of being labelled. I'm tired of being told I'm emo but feeling like a poser. I'm tired of feeling stupid and idiotic because I don't understand what's going on. I'm tired of living my life for other people. I'm tired of feeling the need to let go but being unable to because I have to hold on for him. The one person I would truly miss and the one person who wouldn't even know if I lived or died. He's been hurt by suicide before. I can't do that to him again.

But I'm tired of acting. I'm tired of faking, aching, breaking. I'm tired of the fact that if a sick person says "I want to live" they have teams and teams of people rushing to help them but when a healthy person says "I want to die" they are deemed a freak, or insane. I'm tired of knowing that's pathetic. I'm tired of knowing suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I'm tired of feeling sick and confused. I'm tired of feeling like I'm drowning but haven't died. I'm tired of feeling like I need to inflict physical pain on myself to mask the other pain. I'm tired of knowing it's not working but doing it anyway. I'm tired of the elated feeling I get when I see my blood. I'm tired of that blood being the only thing I have to be proud of and the only thing I should be really ashamed of.

I'm tired of feeling guilty. It's like, everything I say about what I do, what I think, what I feel, no matter what it is, I feel like I'm lying. Even though every word of it is true, I feel guilty, like I'm dramatising it. Maybe it's because honestly, I don't want there to be something wrong with me. So I convince myself that everything is normal, I'm fine, maybe I just do things differently to otherr people. But I know that's wrong, so I'm lying again. And I don't want to feel guilty. Guilt was given to us as an unpleasant emotion, one we do not wish to experience, and therefore, we should not do things we'll feel guilty for. And you can make your guilt go away by making up for the bad things you've done but what if you're feeling guilty for telling the truth? For trying to express yourself, for trying to help yourself? There's nothing I can do, unless maybe, I'm meant to suffer in silence? Maybe I'm meant to die? Things happen for a reason and maybe suicide is the way I'm meant to go?

But I can't do that to him. Not after what happened last time. When she killed herself, when she did it, they blamed it on him. Not so much him as all of them. The five of them. And I don't think she meant for it to happen. I don't think she meant for her actions to cause him so much agony. And I could try and make sure before I did it, try to make it known that he is the reason I am holding on to life now and he is the only one I'd ever feel sad about leaving but I can't guarantee they'll believe me, can I? Someone will blame him and he will feel the consequences for something that only I could ever have made the decision to do. How can someone make you commit suicide? Either you choose to kill yourself, or they kill you.

And that's why I'm so confused. If I'm meant to die this way, why have I been led to him? To all of them? Why is every cell of my body begging me to end this but every ounce of my soul holding on, purely out of love and respect for him. I won't hurt him like she did. Even if it hurts me.

Black Mariah.

Thoughts Of Drowning...

Watch me fade into the shadows
It's something I'm good at now
Leaving the safety of the shallows
To where I'll make my final vow
Fall down into the ice cold water
Let it take control of me
Help me become another daughter
Of the dead to set me free
And I will never take another breath
Through this heart break and haunting pain
Step happily into the arms of death
Because I'll never see life again.

Today...

Hello, again

I had quite a good day today but then when I got home I just totally crashed. I felt tired, miserable, angry, crowded even though there was no one in the room with me. I really don't understand why this is happening to me. I hate it. So much goes on in my head and there's so little I can do to describe it. I want to talk to somebody but I can't. There's no one that would listen, no one that would understand. No one I can trust to keep it to themselves. There's certain people I really don't want to know about this. My parents. My best friend (not the one who actually does know and doesn't care). My brother and sister. I don't want them to know. I don't. And I know that if I tell anyone then they'd just end up telling everyone else and I don't want that. I know they'd just be trying to help, but only I can really know what I think would help me and telling someone wouldn't. It'd just make me even more stressed and put me under even more pressure which could easily tip me over the edge that I'm only just balancing on right now. Right now, I really hate my life and I don't think it would be hard to end it at all.

Keep The Tears Falling

Let me keep the tears falling

They let me know I'm still alive

Let the rain keep on pouring

It's what I need just to survive

Let me keep the tears falling

And let me feel the pain

Let the rain keep on pouring

But nothing will I gain

Let me keep the tears falling

From my soul that I can't save

Let the rain keep on pouring

Like little kisses on my grave

Sometimes I wish I was ghost and I could go about my day as I would if I was there and see how much people actually cared that I was missing.

Oh, shoot, I have a four page english essay to write for tomorrow!

That's a really bad way to sign off but I have to go.

Sorry. Please come back soon and leave a comment!

Black Mariah.

Taking A Break...

Hi again

I think I might post a poem every time I write a new post. People say poetry is a good way of expressing yourself which I'm having a hard time doing at the moment. And I write a lot of poetry. I'm just too scared to let people read them because I know they're not good. But on here nobody knows who I am so I don't care if they hate it. I wrote one which is really long but it's one of the best so what I'm going to do is sort of...chop it up and put the most important bits (to me) down and create a shorter version.

Untitled

There's blood on the tissues, blood on the walls

What have I done? Another tear falls

Can't keep doing this, makes my heart break

But with no one to turn to, it's my form of escape

Lock in the darkness, lock in the pain

More blood is drawn, here comes the rain

It's self expression, never call it self harm

And then in seconds see the blood on my arm

Look in the mirror, there's nothing to see

Skin stained so red, that girl isn't me

Eyes so dark, seen things so wrong

Give me a week, my life won't last long

Won't make it to Heaven, don't send me to hell

Tried to make it all work, just didn't do it well

I never wanted it to be this way

But I lied when I said I was okay

There's no one to talk to, not anymore

Find me dying on the bathroom floor

Don't hold me back, don't try pleading

Just let me go, I'll keep on bleeding

In this bed with sheets so stained

Hear me laughing as my life is drained

And when you see the ghost of my final smile

You'll know I've wanted this for quite a while

And when you think of me, don't ever cry

It was all I wanted, just to die.

I'm not actually supposed to be on here, I have eight pieces of homework that desperately need doing so I'm going to leave you all now before my mum comes in and starts yelling at me. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think of the poem. I'm curious as to how my work is actually recieved. Wow, that sounded so posh! I'm curious as to how my work is actually recieved. Ha! Anyway, going now!

Thanks for reading (again) come back soon!

Black Mariah.

Another Day...

Hi again, people who actually are reading this.

I'm really surprised about that. But thanks for taking an interest in what I have to say.

I haven't got a lot to say today. I'm just in one of those moods where words don't really help. So I'll post a poem I wrote a few days ago. I wrote a lot that day so I'll only pick one.

Who I Used To Be

I used to call these eyes blue

Now I call them grey

I used to talk for hours on end

Now there's nothing left to say

I used to have all I wanted

Now secrets are all I own

I used to feel so in place

Now I just want to find my home

I used to think you were my friends

Now I know exactly where I stand

I used to think I knew what to do

Now death is all that I have planned

I used to do so many things

Now all I do is bleed

I used to ask God when I was unsure

Now I just have to plead

I used to be so sure of life

Now I'm not sure of anything at all

I used to fly with everyone else

Now I just watch them while I fall

It's not one of the better ones I wrote that day, but it's one of the shortest ones. The longer ones are much better but they go on forever and I can't be bothered writing it down again. And for some reason my computer has an issue with copy and pasting at the moment, so.

In my sad, sad, sad little life, I'll probably be back writing again within five minutes, but I'm going to go now. I'll probably be back with another short poem I wrote yesterday or something, I don't know. See how predictable I am? Anyway, thanks for reading and thanks for the comments! Come back again soon!

Black Mariah

So Much More Than Just A Thought...

You're always on my mind
Can't even escape you if I
Shut my eyes
I just see your face inside
My head and I tried
To forget you but I cried
I couldn't let you go and I
Can't live without you
But you can't stay in my head
You and I
We're so different but we could make it work
I just want to be friends, no more or maybe
We could try?
No, I'd mess you up I never want to see you hurt
Do you know what I'd do to get you to see
In my eyes
You're so much more than just a thought to me
You're on my mind so constantly
I love you, you've done so much for me
And you never even knew
I know what I'd do
Just to get to see you
You're so much more than just a thought to me
You're a Way of getting through the day
You showed me the Way
You're so much more than just a thought to me

One Day Since Yesterday...

I'm bored. I've been downloading music off the internet. I love technology. Nothing makes me as happy as I get when I get a new CD or song on my mp3 player that I really love. Or don't know and can grow to love. I know that's really sad. But music is absolutely my life. Especially one band. I got really bad a couple of months back. Properly depressed and really suicidal. I had my death planned out, how I was going to do it, the date, I even wrote a suicide note and I was all ready but then I started listening to the band and their music totally changed the way I looked at what I was doing. I thought suicide was a way of winning. But they showed me it's just giving the game up. They showed me that I can fight this depression. They're the reason I'm trying. If it weren't for them, I'd be dead right now.

Oh my God. I'm really trying to keep this on a positive note, but I haven't been doing a very good job. But it doesn't matter, because no one's reading this. I don't blame them, to be honest, I'm broadcasting all the worst things about my life. Nothing about my amazing friends---at least the ones I still see, my real friends---or my hobbies---would any of you have ever guessed that I'm a figure skater?---or anything like that. Just all the sad, rubbish stuff.

I'm going now. I think I might delete this blog soon. Even if no one knows who I am, is it really the best idea to go round shouting about all this? What if someone I know, by chance, reads this and figures out it's me??? I'll think about it!

Black Mariah

A Little More....Actually, A Lot More, I'm Sorry It's So Long!!!

I know I was just on here like a second ago, but I've got nothing else to do. Usually I hang out with my friends on a Friday. I don't know why today's any different. But oh well. Just means I have more time to bore anyone who might possibly decide to read this. By the way, if you do for some reason read this, can you leave me a comment? Anything? Just to let me know I'm not rambling on to no one? If that's the case, I might as well just delete the blog. Find some other way of doing what I want to do. Have I even mentioned what I'm trying to do? I don't know. I'm forgetful.

I read back my last couple of posts a moment ago. Can I just point out that yes, my depression causes me to go all...you know...depressing like that, but it's not all the time. Like right now, I'm totally fine. I'm actually kind of embarrassed at posting that poem and that explanation. But that is what it's like! Sometimes. Not all the time. Most of the time I'm just like any other teenager. I like music. I like going out. I like guys. Even if a certain special guy never even looks my way...honestly, seven years I've known him and I don't think I've ever spoken to him. But I will. Maybe not while I'm still trying to reintroduce my brain to the concept of sanity, but I will talk to him. Wish me luck! I'll find myself going on and on and on about him, probably, even though I know little more about him than his name. Maybe the comment you leave could be: We are all very aware that you like this guy. Can you either talk to him or shut up? Something along those lines, feel free! Anyway, my point was supposed to be please don't feel sorry for me and please don't be patronising to anyone you might know with depression. Only my best friend knows about mine, but it still gets on my nerves every time someone says to me: Are you okay? Are you sure you're okay? I'm worried about you. You look depressed. Ha ha. Well spotted. Newsflash! I know you're all trying to be nice, but it doesn't help letting me know that I LOOK depressed as well as feel it!

Weekend! Woop woop! Raving with my friends! Probably not, actually. Was supposed to be going out with them but not anymore. I hardly ever see anyone anymore. I think I'm starting to scare them off. It's quite sad, really. Just because I look different doesn't mean there's anything wrong with me. Why is it that people find skinny jeans and eyeliner and sidefringes and Converse so hard to cope with??? My friends are all really happy, lighthearted, cheerful people and because most of them have no idea what goes on inside my head, I think they're either scared of me or just getting fed up with my mood changes. I don't really help myself, I mean. I know it's my fault that I'm driving them away. I can't help it though. I feel like I'm drowning in myself. Sick, twisted and often deathly thoughts go through my head, I go cold and I feel like someone's trying to squash me. I can't help the fact that when this happens in the middle of a Science lesson I go a bit quiet, or fidgety.

I have only just realised what a pathetically long post this is. Like anyone's ever going to bother reading this! I really need to get a life, don't I???? I'm off now to find some other way of keeping my mind...active? Away from anything that could make me go weird again. Away from anything that could cause me any harm. So, I'll be back. Hopefully not as quickly as I was this time, because that would just be insanely sad.

Thanks for at least attempting to read this! See you soon! Leave a comment!

Black Mariah.

Those Icy Hands

There's nothing left to say

Another endless day

Did you watch me fade away?

Think of me when you pray?

In the coffin I just lay

My features stony grey

Like I was made from clay

Waiting for you babe

But you're never coming

My heart is black

My hands are red

I'm coming back

Back from the dead

The life I lack

And all I said

Feel it crack

Inside your head

But you're never coming

Can you hear me calling for you?

Things you thought you always knew

I'd always hoped you'd help me through

But there was nothing you could ever do

So you're never coming.

Sorry. I always get nervous about my work, whether it's poems or drawings or stories or whatever, I never think they're good. I just want to explain that that poem WAS about me. It's all metaphorical. I'm not dead, obviously, but in my head I am. Not all the time. It's just when the depression takes over, it's like some hands are wrapped round my chest, freezing me, crushing me to death and in my head I'm already dead. I welcome the hands. They just want to help me find where I belong.

I used to just lie on my bed, sit in my classes in silence, waiting for the hands to come. The feeling I get when they come. I can't breathe, I hear things and see things in my head, I can't think about anything about the crushing feeling. But it made me feel strong. I can feel pain. I felt it all the time. I still do. The hands come all the time. But I'm fighting them. I don't want anyone (again, if anyone reads this) to read this and think anything except she's fighting it. She's trying. And if you feel the hands too, if you're suffering from depression like me, we're not alone. We're in this together. No one else can help us. We're not some emo death cult or whatever it is they think. We're an army. I know it's hard. I know every day feels like a battle against the world. I know how draining it is to put on a happy face and pretend like everything's okay. I know how sickening it is to watch your own blood fall and know you caused it.

We can do it. I can do it. I'll get through this. And I'll do it on my own.

Thanks for reading. Please come back soon!

Black Mariah.

Welcome To Black Mariah.

Obviously, it's like, the Number One Safety Rule to never EVER give out any of your details over the internet. I don't want people to know who I am anyway. I just want to get my word across, let people know what I'm thinking. If anyone actually wants to listen. At least I know I've said what I want to say. So those few people, if any people, that want to listen to what I have to say will know me as Black Mariah. I might be interested in different music and I might always be the one to go out in black skinny jeans with tons of eyeliner and I might be the one that has some issues with her head at the moment but I hope that in becoming Black Mariah, I'll be able to say all the things that I could never say to my friends as myself. I hope that I'll be able to show myself that it's not all bad. I hope I'll be able to show myself that I really am just a normal teenaged girl. Just like all the others...

Black Mariah