At 8:30 this morning I was still hopeful. I still had a chance. It was possible. It was mine.

An hour later "We regret to inform you..."

An hour later it was over. the 4 months of waiting for absolutely nothing was over. "Excellent pool of candidates..."

I wondered if that made me less excellent. "highly competitive and qualified..."

Was I not qualified? I replayed my application over and over in my head and it sounded like it was mine.

"Oh, it was national" says my father.

Maybe I'm only qualified when it comes to Wisconsin, because the same thing happened to me at Regionals... Somewhere in America there is someone better equipped for your dream.

"We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors"
    Well, what if I have no luck left? What if I'm not excellent enough?

What if I'm not qualified enough?
What if I'm not deserving enough?

Then I look over my Journalism application. 120 spots.
120 qualified people out of a pool of who knows how many.
My morning made me feel unqualified as if there was a slim chance I could possibly obtain anything I truly wanted.

Then there's Beyonce and Jay-Z tickets everyone is raving about, but I'm in a stand still because I have **** I need to do. I have dreams that money actually can buy. So while everyone is raving about concert tickets,
I'm at a standstill wondering how in the hell will I afford to make my dreams come true when Beyonce could've made them happen 100 times over and then some...

Feeling unlucky, unwealthy, and under qualified

Then a friend tells me "cast your anxiety upon the lord"

Deep breath in.

Exhale. Something greater is coming my way.

I thought that I loved you. I believed that you loved me. I was wrong. You violated me. You took the little innocence I had left. I can't thank you enough for making me this crazy, ****** up person I am today.

May 23, 2018

I had tennis practice that day. I walked out of school down the sidewalk to bus 9. Your bus. I sat down in my normal seat and leaned against the window. Then I saw you. I forgot that it was your bus until you walked on. You said hi to the bus driver and then you sat down next to me. You started some small talk and then you held my hand. I didn't move it because I was stunned. You laid your soft hair on my chest. I just let you and I wish I didn't. You put your hand on my chin and lifted up my face and kissed me. Then you slowly put your hand down my shirt. I didn't know what to do cause this never happen to me before. Then the bus stopped. People were getting off, so you stopped. You didn't want people to know the "fun" you were having. And then you continued. You laid your head between my breast, I was fighting my anxiety. He left his mark, the bus stopped at the middle school. You said done. I ran off of the bus feeling saddened. All I wanted was to forget. I...I....I....

I tried to forget about it. Little did I know, this would happen again tomorrow.



May 24, 2018

I just got back from regionals. I was sitting on the wrestling mats outside the band room waiting for my boyfriend. He wasn't there so I started to wander the school. Then I ran into you. We started talking cause I thought we could put yesterday behind us. But I was wrong. We went back to the wrestling mats and I used his leg as a pillow cause I thought I could trust him. And again I was wrong. Then you leaned down and kissed me. You went to get some water and I sat up, then next thing I knew was that you walked up behind me and wrapped your arms around me.

We walked around for a while and we went back to the mats. Not thinking, I laid down. You were standing. You put your whole upper body on me and kissed me.



I could explain so much more, but it's to painful to talk about.

Thank you for making this so far the worst year of my life.

Johnathon. Welcome to your tape.

Dear me (age 13),
     Congrats, you're a teenager! Get ready for some of the best times of your life and also some of the worst. When you hear that old saying "You never know what you had until its gone," don't just shrug it off. Never take anyone or anything for granted. Soon you will loose someone important. Don't be afraid to mourn. It's okay to cry. Let it out.
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 14),
     Middle School is rough, but you're almost done. Keep going. Gymnastics is rough this year competing two seasons in a row, but I promise you its worth it. You'll be so much better because of it. Don't give up!
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 15),
      Hello again. Welcome to High School. You're first midterms are coming up. Study a little harder than you think you need to. It's worth it. This year gymnastics will make you the happiest person in the world. Just a warning though, at the top of the highest mountain, there is no where left to go but down. Also thank mom for making you work in the guidance office during study hall. These people will become some of your biggest advocates.
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 16),
      When the beam coach says you need to stop gymnastics for a bit to rest your back, listen. Do not keep going when her back is turned. When the bars coach says to stop arching your back, listen. Please listen. But when the head coach tells you to loose 10 lbs, don't. Don't listen. Instead curse her out, tell her how that makes you feel, tell her that she is a horrible human being, and how much you can't stand her, but whatever you do, do not ever let her words control you. You are perfectly beautiful. At regionals, don't go for the double back dismount off bars. End with the full twist instead. But don't be ashamed if you don't make it to nationals. Instead, rest, heal, get better. Skip all the other doctors you think you should see. Instead schedule an appointment with  Dr. Greenberg like the head coach keeps insisting you do. I know its scary and painful right now. But the physical pain will go away.
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 17),
     Life is harder than ever right now. The physical pain is awful, but the emotional pain is worse. I'm so sorry this had to happen to you. But please whatever you do, do not pick up that razor. The urges to hurt yourself will only get stronger the more you give in. Its a trap so hard to get out of, you will wonder if you ever can. Instead pick up your camera, swim farther, call a friend. Anything!
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 18),
     When you spend the afternoons of your senior year at a mental health facility, embrace the help your getting. Remember the lessons you learn, they will only help you in the long run. Have fun on senior trip, and don't let anyone bring you down! When you start college, don't be so quick to trust your roommate. The girl you met in the bathroom while moving in though, trust her with your life. She will be your best friend. And I honestly don't know where you would be without her.
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 19),
     Stop blaming yourself for falling asleep everywhere, and ask the doctor to change your medication. Accept the fact that you have a mental illness and its okay to not be okay. Keep eating lunch and dinners with your friends. Don't forget to thank dad every day when you both live out of a hotel room, so you can finish freshman year. Embrace DBT, and learn to live by it. Sophomore year will start out okay, but will head downhill pretty quickly. When your roommate talks about her sorority, listen. These girls will become you're best friends and biggest supporters (besides blood related family of course). Don't worry too much though, you'll make it through, with the love and support of your family and amazing sisters at school.
With Love,
An older you

Dear me (age 20),
     I've only known you for a couple of days, barely even two weeks really. but please keep going. Keep fighting. It has to get better at some point. right?
With love and hope,
Yourself

Stop acting like you're great.
And tearing people down.

You say I'm too negative about myself.
With what I say--that's ******* true.
But it's because of people like you.

You pump yourself up in ignorant arrogance and exaggerate everything.

You say snide comments about people.

"Look at her blog, that's so gayyyy."

"D'aww look at them [couple picture] lyk so in luv."

"'Won regionals today' --you're so cooooool."

Seriously?

I blog.
I wish we took pictures. One ******* picture even (I don't even like them but at least then maybe people won't ******* go, "oh are you still with THAT girl?")
I do a lot of the things you mock.

Then you say that you wished that I did more of the things that I like to do.
Wonder why I'm so negative?

If I say it's stupid first--I'll be less butthurt when you mock it.

This is all so stupid. I shouldn't care so much.

But I'm annoyed.

I'm so sick of people talking about me like I'm mediocre.

*****, you all ******* know who I am.

I'm sorry I'm the little leather pants wearing "goth girl" who hooked up with the football/swim guy you all supposedly adore.

But most of all, I'm sick of this feeling that it seems like you feel like I'm mediocre.