It All Started With A Van.

A few days ago I saw this van on the highway and it had this tumblr link all over it http://findingmyplaceinspace.tumblr.com/

Nothing about the link is even kind of entertaining so I just followed the blog on it and kept looking at the van. The van kind of had me all intrigued and confused. It left me partly inspired and partly curious about life. What I don't understand is how a 15 passenger van most likely spray painted with all those different colors and then the link had me that inspired and curious. It got me excited. For a moment I kind of wanted to do exactly what she was doing. I don't know why either. I wanted to be care free and just travel. Then the real side of my brain kicked in and dollar signs started appearing and I dropped it.

What if everyone lived like that though in a van traveling the world care free. No place to call home. No place that you stayed in long enough for it to matter. Traveling with gas prices the way they are means that it's certainly not cheap but what about food. What about family.

One of the most random things has got me thinking more than I have in awhile. It kind of inspired me to think about starting a journal on my life. Some part of me feels like I owe myself that. What started out as just a van on the highway ended up as something a little more intriguing and inspiring and a little less odd and weird.

Even the blog name says it all finding my place in space. Everbody is always trying to find themselves and the person traveling in that van is no different than the rest of us except that she's doing it. Actually finding herself instead of wishing she would or waiting on it. She's not sitting around chancing that life will come. She's making it.

And people wonder why I push them away.

And people wonder why I push them away. 
Here's the story...

Boy asks girl out in a weird way. Girl questions it. Boy asks clearly. Girl finds boy slightly annoying but says yes because she thinks he deserves a fair chance. Two days later and ignored texts it's 4th of July. Girl sends text Happy 4th! Boy sends back numerous text messages on how he needs to find himself and get closer with god and how he wants to break up. Girl gets upset and his terrible excuse for a break up and calls him out on it. Boy keeps texting the same stupid things about being a child of God and how he could let a sister at his church help me. Girl gets even more pissed because boy obviously didn't listen when she said she has a relationship with him and goes to church. Boy asks for girl to stop texting him. Girl does it anyway one more time to tell him that if he thinks stupid excuses will land him as a friend to her still then he's crazy. As of now boy doesn't respond.

Now I'll say if this doesn't make my thoughts and ideas on relationships being shit and guys needing to grow up any farther in those directions then I don't know what. Lost all respect for that person. I wasn't even that interested I was more pissed off by the crap excuses than anything.

I Push People Away

When ever anyone admits to having any sort of feelings for me I always end up pushing them away. It's this automatic response thing I have. My blinders go off and I be little them until any feelings they have are squashed. It's horrible.

What is it that attracts people to us. What makes someone like you? It seems like it's a bit of everything. Like a bunch of things that can't always be pointed out.

Part of me wants the cheesy love that's so overly romantic and wonderful while the other half knows how reality works and just wants to survive another day.

"I push people away who start to love me because I know that if they stopped loving me, it would kill me"

“I wish I was half as good at keeping people around as I am at pushing them away.”


Sometimes I just wish I could find my Jack. Find my miss pieces and never let go.

Don't Have To Be Scared At All

Listening to Fall by Justin Bieber and it got me thinking. I'm still in love with the same person that I was over a year ago. I still feel strong for that person. I still wish more than anything that things turned out different but they didn't. I used to be so bothered by that. Bothered by the fact that my heart was attached to something that wasn't ever going to return it. It doesn't bother me anymore.

It scared me to feel something that strong. Now it just feels normal. It feels real. I've never felt more alive. The heart takes time to heal and even if I'm still partially broken by it I'm okay with that. I've grown so much from all of the stuff that happened that it's okay. I'm honestly okay. For the moment anyway.

"you can't fly unless you let yourself fall" 

struggles

What people don't realize or yet understand is what it takes to be Charlotte. I'm at a constant war with myself. It's like I never win. I'm struggling time after time to just breathe in and out somewhat normally. My brain striving to be this perfect model of what a normal person is and it's hard. Some days I feel like I can't do it anymore and then other days it's great.

"I'm not perfect but I keep tryin', cause that's what I said I would do from the start"

I always thought I had to be this or that or even look this way or that way to feel okay again. I'm just now finding out that no matter how hard I tell myself that no of that matters it really does.
When you are a recovering person like me from things that are hard to even admit it's sort of a reality everytime something comes up in life showing you how you aren't as perfect as everyone else or even as perfect as you thought. I know they say nobody is perfect but in my mind sometimes I find myself saying certain people are. I find myself saying that maybe I'm not enough. It's a work in progress getting better and each day I just pray I move in the right direction leaving yesterday behind and making tomorrow the best future it can be.













-Char

I wont be just another statistic on a suicide site.

I've always been the person who says how stupid it is to kill yourself. Quoting sites on the rate of suicide among the young population. I Charlotte can say here now that I've even thought of it as an option before in my life. Those thoughts were before I started saying how stupid it was.

I didn't realize until Thursday night how big of a hypocrite I was being. It's hard to accept the fact that you've spent years hating yourself for ever thinking those suicidal thoughts all those years ago and that you are in the middle of a relapse. 

I had a moment in time about 1 hour in which it all came tumbling down. I was standing in the bathroom looking at my tear stained cheeks in the mirror trying to find a way out. I was asking God how much it would hurt if I just down a bottle of pills and never looked back. I kept asking him if he would be disappointed in me. I kept asking him how long before they took affect. I didn't really want to go. I mean part of me did. Part of me just wanted the attention so everyone knew that something was actually wrong for once. I sat on my bed and all I kept thinking was 'if I do this if I just take the easy way out will you be disappointed in me? Will you hate me God? I can't do it unless I know for sure you wont hate me.'  I kept asking him if I would be able to see my grandpa and sisters. If I would be happier wherever I ended up as long as it wasn't in that particular moment.

Of course I'm still here so you know I didn't do it but I wanted to. Why? I don't know. I just felt like I was breaking. I felt like I was going insane. I couldn't breathe. That's how it started. My chest got all tight and I started to panic and I felt like my heart was going to explode. I was looking at the ceiling. It felt like suddenly everything was against me and then all of a sudden I was crying. I had my facebook open an apology to someone I once cared about with a promise to never tell anyone things written. I was ready for a goodbye.

I guess my point is I'm two down without any clue how to even say something like that to my mom. Sometimes I feel like she deserves to know but then I have flashes of me in a mental hospital and I can't do it. I feel insane sometimes. It's like I'm not even in control of my own body. 

The next day I didn't feel any better all I kept thinking was I should have just done it then I wouldn't be feeling so blah today. I could have saved myself the trouble. Saturday came and everything was different. I was in the car singing while eating an ice cream music up loud with my mom coming home and it was like nothing mattered anymore. Everything I felt Thursday was gone. My mom kept saying all day that I was really hyper. I think I was just happy. Happy that I didn't take the easy way out. 

I'll never be ready for a goodbye. No matter how much I think I'll be I wont. It's too soon. I know for sure that I'm standing here because I asked for help from God and that I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it alone and I couldn't do it because I'm not that kind of person. I don't take the easy way out.

I'm writing this because even though all that happened I've never been better. I'm actually kind of happy. I feel like a big weight was off my shoulder.

I know that I won't ever do it. I'm too afraid of death for that. I do know that I was calling my own bluff and that for that brief hour I wasn't me. I don't know who I was but that doesn't matter. I'm here. I've survived the worst and managed to find the good out of it. I wont be a statistic on a graph. I refuse to be number used to show how many do end up doing it. I'm better than that.

untitled

Sometimes I feel like someone is sitting on my chest. I feel so suffocated that it's hard to breathe. It's like the simplicity of simply breathing in and out is nearly impossible to do and when it does happen it's a hard painful struggle. It's impossible to control and it generally comes before or after a string of tears. I compare it to what death probably feels like. It's almost as if I'm buried alive.  Each gasp of air harder than the next. Each blink of an eye more blurry and tear stained.

It's impossible to recover from the harsh breathing and rapid heart racing that is taking over me. My head aching and spinning in different directions. I try to ask God to make it stop. I try to bargain with him for my breathing to turn back to normal. Bargaining for some air. It takes awhile before it calms but then again it always does. I'm not sure if it will ever stop or go away. I'm not sure if I can ever make it not happen. I've grown used to it. It's as if it has become a part of who I am. I hate that. I hate that it can control me but I have no say it.