When There's So Much Light, Why Do I Feel So Dark?

Back on my old laptop. Found this buried in the bookmarks -- I had almost forgotten it existed.

Totally LMAO'd at my small child angst.

Also, turns out having Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) previously and still more better known as Multiple Personality Disorder when you don't know about it can really mess with your life. So long story short I fell in love, turned 17 and started dating her --

Oh that's right, I don't think I've came out here yet. I'm a lesbian. Totally shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. If you want to hear that story, let me know. It's pretty epic actually.

-- her parents (hardcore Evangelists) found out 8 months into it and broke all contact between us, even going so far as to install a key logger and breaking into -- not just her's, but mine as well -- our email accounts and journal entries, then threatened a restraining order when they discovered through her journal we had been having sex. Awesome, right?

So the love of my life is under lock and key, I'm just barely trying to start processing my Bipolar Mania and trying to get it under control let alone my unimaginable undiagnosed DID, and then I can't talk to her for four months. After four months of diligent silence (by the end of which I was truly a broken and devastated soul) she and I get phone contact back and she calls me, tells me her parents are out of the house and for me to come over and see her. Turns out it was just a booty call and three days later she broke up with me.

At least I'm a hot piece of ass, worth four months of waiting for that one last thrill. Meh. I'm over it. But here's where it gets fucked up.

I moved out because my friend caught me in the middle of a suicide attempt (really she just caught me preparing for it, I was still in the shower, don't know how she knew) and took me in even before the breakup happened. When we finally did break up, I was comatose for weeks, inconsolable, I just wanted to waste away. Moved to Orem, tried going to college for a semester. Halfway through I got a phone call from my ex-girlfriend (this is like two months after the breakup) and we talked for almost two hours as if nothing had happened, like we were best friends again. I was at the BK Lounge at the time waiting for Westi so I could keep him company on his smoke breaks (me, smoke, NEVER) as I frequently did, and it was time for his smoke break so I asked her if I could call her back.

"No, this can never happen again. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, but I don't have the emotional energy to be your friend."

I hung up on her, needless to say, then walked outside and pulled the unlit cigarette out of Westi's mouth (Camel Wide, some of the harshest smokes on the market) put it to my lips and told him to light it. He saw the state I was in and complied. Three days later it was eight shots of Crown Royal whiskey with no chasers in his basement, and two days after that six hits of Alaskan Thunderfuck around the fire with people I would soon come to know and love as my "Skud Crew". It happened in the course of one week. Until that phone call I was totally okay but that was just an emotional break in what was already a tenuous situation. All the alcohol and weed I was smoking reacted really badly with my Seroquel and I started having blackouts. It wasn't that I was drinking a lot or smoking a lot it was just that even small amounts reacted really badly with the pill I was taking every night, a pill that was also brand new in my system and that I was still working with my doctor on nailing down the proper dosage.

Unbeknownst to little ol' me, Matthew Belial Hadder (he hadn't named himself by that point) was having a heyday with my bank accounts, my closest relationships, and my life in general. By the time I left for Oregon I was smoking >$50 bag of chronic a day, getting waaay more drunk than 0.8 a night, and that's not to mention the Ceboxin I had already broken my addiction to, the Robotussin I was doing 3-5x's a week, and any Vicodin, Loratab, or Percocets I could cram up my nose.

This feels like a confession. Alright, so be it, I guess you could call this my confession to the public forum, for posterity's sake. The point is I got better.

To surmise:  Almost burned down Spanish Fork Main Street and would have had to flee the country (I don't want to talk about it); OD'd (I don't want to talk about it); got raped (I don't want to talk about it); pawned all my shit and fled the state (I don't want to talk about it); got better, moved back home year later and am currently enrolled in college, almost finished with my book, working on my rock opera, and back on my meds. Only thing left for me to quit now is my cigarettes.

Anyways, I'm done. Just thought I'd you know, update or something. What a concept. lol

Peace out. Preally.

~Alisa

Hey guys, just me here to let you know I'm not going to be using this blog anymore. It's kind of one of those things where you grow up, you move on, and you don't want your old entries haunting you and following you around.

But it served it's purpose; it kept me going through junior high and highschool. It also kept me writing, and considering where I'm going in life, that can never be considered a bad thing.

I DO want to make you guys aware though, that I'm trying to start up an online 'zine called "We Are The Music". Right now I'm just trying to get a following in various places (DeviantArt; Mindsay; Myspace) before I purchase the domain name and start paying for hosting and building the site and whatnot.

What I'm trying to say is, please, if you get a moment, subscribe to the blog We Are The Music if at all possible.

Thank you, I love you guys, and that is all.

~Alisa

This is a prophesy a soliloquy of the memory of children three so small and frightened lost and heightened senses tighten muscle spasms so sad the alley ways filled with phantoms and little eyes they cry so brown like the shit of the earth they were told they were fighting for nothing fighting for something to give to the little brother hiding trying so hard to keep him from crying can't let your father prying hunting for the alcohol that fuels him and cools him and eats him then beats him till he's bleeding and he's guilty for the masochism we believe in so try the schism it's delicious.

Hero worship gets you no where and I'm here to tear the facades amongst the applause and fuck your religion the reason given for so much livin' with no accountability as you push us back down into the dirt where it hurts wrong side of the tracks and we're back and we have guns so many fucking guns to shun your way of life the strife you caused we're lost in a sea of anger and twisting the fists you threw in our faces when we asked you for help you called us whelps we're your fucking children why do you ignore us why do you throw us to the floor and ask for more than what we can give?

History and mystery and Listerine drowning the promises you never meant to keep you're cheap you used me used us to thrust you into success on our backs but we were the shadows we were the hallows the gallows the city swung by and darkening your doorstep with the anarchy you knew was coming the king of the next Roman Empire filled to the brim with broken homes.

I see it now reaching down to cup the wide-eyed future generation so innocent never meant to feel the flint nor the steel sparking the downfall of integrity and we are the degradation of society the slow unraveling of propriety and these kids so beautiful the minority of English speakers and broken homes and class distinction and absolution is never coming because the anti Christ is alive in every single middle class crass mouthed brass housed brat never had to work for nothing never had to work for the love of a mother that was never home and a father that never existed never twisted the cap onto the bottle always off always frothed always bleeding the poison he never would admit was killing our visions of God.

This is the message
The only hope that the next generation has
This is the people
Of the past telling you to learn from our mistakes
It's a vicious theory
Circling back to eat ourselves alive
History repeats itself but we don't have to...

And it's like the world is swimming around me, crawling beneath my skin like maggots, eating the flesh so dead and so unclean and my skin sags until it eventually melts off entirely and I am lifeless, nothing but the framework of what used to be an empire. So many things that I'm so desperately sorry for but I was right from the beginning and I hate to say I told you so, but I was right, our worlds could never mix and they never will. I come from a world of shadows, built in darkness so that you can have your light, so that you can enjoy your sunshine. Someone has to be the other end of the scale and that's where we stand, in the shadows, in the rain in the middle of the roads, that's where we stand, as one, united in a way that you only wish you could be.

You've never known the bonds of brotherhood so strong that you can't breathe until you know they're alright, you've never known the confusion and the numbness you feel when there is so much blood and not all of it is your's but you don't care, you can't feel a thing. You've never known the agony of watching the atrocity of a murder, what's more, the murder victim being someone so near and dear to your heart you called him brother. I have witnessed and committed things that even your worst nightmares can't do justice to.

Do you know who I am? Do you see my shadow on your walls at nights, watching over you, trying to make sure you're alright? Can you hear your name on my lips as I barrel down the streets, my shoes making a sick slapping noise on the wet sidewalk, trying ever harder to get away from you and closer to you at the same time? Can you see the paradox I'm in, being torn apart and twisted in a sick cacophony of bone on bone and the scream of steel and wet muscle? Can you feel the regret, washing over you, emanating from me and my dissociative behavior disorders rippling across the waves and the winds to bring you the salty sweet smell of my unshed tears and wishing you were here, and wishing you understood because maybe, maybe if someone from your world of light understood someone from my world of dark we could bridge the gap and create a world of grays so beautiful and so wonderful that eventually it becomes a world of whites...

My fingertips so close to redemption, so close to wrapping around that ball of hope and being lifted out of the mires of misunderstanding and harsh words, but it's too far, just too far out of my grasp and I plummet back, watching your beautiful eyes so full of confusion and hurt and anger at being betrayed and I wish you could understand that this isn't my fault, that this is my fault for making so many promises to you but they were promises I could never possibly fulfill and how is that my fault? I can feel myself bursting from my chest, skin slick with sweat and scratched and welted from my shattered rib cage, concussive force meant to dwarf your memories of who I used to be and who you thought I was. Let me go quietly back into my shadows.

I'm sorry for ever bothering you. Forget I exist.

And I know, I know it's just a game of hide and seek with my emotions darting around the corner with a flurry of leaves and snow drifts and I've never had the energy to hunt them down and sew them back into me again before now. Good morning good morning good morning and you're not leading me on, not intentionally, and really, who's fault is it more, your's for leading me or mine for letting myself be led? So lead away my friends, lead lead lead but I won't be following anymore.

Standing up, and can you see the dust shake from my bones and the flesh crawl to reattach my ligaments for use? Can you see the skin form and harden like wax on my muscles? Watch my flesh suddenly take color as the blood begins to flow and see me, all encompassing, shudder with a gasping breath and my eyes roll forward from the back of my head to focus on you and listen to me stretch my neck and smile at you. I'm not much in the way of a person, but I'm everything in the ways of a entrance.

Everything is going to be alright. No matter what happens, I still have five years from now to look forward to. I don't know what the future holds for me but I know I'm going to be there, standing tall with my head held high looking for it.

Her birthday present has begun. It took me hours just to get the first one right and I'm worried that the rest of them will not turn out that well but it takes time and patience and of both, I am developing plenty. I hope all is well in your universe, dear reader. I hope there is no tar in your heart. No ire in your mind.

Sweet dreams with angel dust.