Stupid, ugly, paranoid thoughts March 26, 2008
Posted by mirla in : Feelings , 3comments“you don’t belong here”
“You’re just hurting them”
“They don’t want you here”
“they want you to go away”
“You’re just faking all of this”
“Just go”
“why do you even come here?”
“You only come here because you WANT to be mentaly ill”
“You’re only suffering because of empathy, you’re really fine”
):
Land of the Disfunctional. (trigger) March 26, 2008
Posted by mirla in : Musings , add a commentOh boy, where to begin. I suppose I’ll start by saying this post is only coming because I have heard some pretty disturbing rumors. Rumors that, you can’t exactly prove true unless you ask the person themselves, but I’m not gutsy enough/have too much respect for said people to really ask them.
The one I heard today in paticular, is that a group of boys from our school go around the bowling alley and beat stray cats with golf clubs and/or toss cats in garbage cans and roll them down a hill. One kid even put a cat in a MICROWAVE. I swear to god it was sickening just to hear all the accounts of animal abuse.
But oh no, that isn’t the half of it. Sometimes I think that *insert the name of our school here* isn’t really a public school, but some school for the emotionaly disturbed, and everyone just says it’s one to make us feel better. I’ll give you some numbers here:
3 of my friends have been S abused by their parents, there is a total of anout 5 girls that are either pregnant of have a child, about one or two tht are actualy getting married while they are in highschool, at least two (possibly 4) people have watched their parents commit suicide, plenty of little kids with deatbeat parents, and one of my “neighbors” went to a mental institution due to psycosis (oh, and his girlfriend is one of the ones who is pregnant by the way). Did I mention that there are only about 280 kids in this school?
Of course, there is the flipside where people are ignorant, insensitive, spoiled, and silly. They come from rich families and travel all around (quite honestly I’m jelous of them being able to have money and travel)
How these two groups can co-exist with eachother with seemingly very few people in-between in such a small school district is just mind breaking. You visit our area (aka, the southern adirondaks, the north country, the sticks etc.) and you think “oh what a beautiful place with such nice people!”
WRONG.
Hence, I have dubbed myself as living in the land of the disfunctional.
Me as a bully March 23, 2008
Posted by mirla in : Memories , add a commentI’ll take a break here from my “life story” for a moment, because this issue just came up with me, so why not post about it, the following is a direct copy-paste of another post that I made in PC forums, but I’m putting it here too:
I was about 7 years old or so at the time, I don’t remember exactly when. There was this one kid, he had some issues I suppose. He built this tower out of those cardboard bricks thing, and told nobody to knock it down. So, a little scheme popped into my head, I walked directly into his tower and knocked it over, I pretended that it was an accident, faking that I was all upset and everything. Out of rage, he stamped on my feet. It didn’t hurt that much, but I still cried anyways so that the babysitter would come. He could see right through me, I could tell, he tried yelling at her that I did it on purpose, but she thought it was an accident too, and punished him for stamping on my feet. Everybody asked me if I was okay afterwards, I said yeah, and then of course, pretending to start feeling better when secretly inside I felt really good for playing such a trick on someone else.
This, isn’t exactly the last time I will bully someone during my childhood. This is however, the first and last time I will deliberately think out a plan with the intention to hurt someone in some way, and then carry it out. Oh, and my text is apparently purple now because my font on PC is purple. The second time? (put in italics just because)
I was around 8 or nine at the time. I guess I must have been getting really cocky with her because I was older. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but it ended up with her beating me up pretty bad. I ended up running away, and whaen I was alone, I started crying, I was hurt, but mostly because it just didn’t seem fair. For you see, in my world, the bully always won, therefore, I should have won the fight. Oh sure, the kid who was being bullied could TRY to fight back- but they would always lose. In my mind, I deserved to win. When that little girls friend came over and saw me crying she ran over joyfuly to tell her friend- even though I told her not to. At that moment I was on the verge of breaking down, screaming about how much I hated people. The response that I got from home was pretty much: bullying a person was bad, yo had no right to do it, and you pretty much got what was coming to you.
this is the last time I remember bullying somebody, other then the times when I would chase kids around the park laughing like a mad man as they would run away terrified because everyone hated me so much that if I so much as came in the breifest of contact with them they would try to hit me out of disgust, and went at all legneths to avoid me.
Sum Memories 4 U March 23, 2008
Posted by mirla in : Memories , add a commentLet us go back now, to some memories.
I remember all the way back to when I was a little kid. My brother and I would watch Disney movies (my favorites were Balto, Bambi, Will and the Sparrow, and the Aristocats) we played this one game, were we would throw a blanket over the gap in between the couch and chair (making a little den if you will) and I wold pretend to be a deer and my brother would be the hunter, and I’d crawl around the house and he’d follow me with his little toy rifle, and then I’d go into my little den, he’d shoot, and then it’s game over. There were alot of other games that we’d play too.
Flash forward a little bit. My mom and dad were seperating, I just remember crying my little eyes out and clinging to my dad. I was only about 5 at the time. My mom moved to this place where we had a balchony and we would go outside and play on it when it rained. We had this yellow room with so many toys in it that you couldn’t even see the floor. We had this little black and white TV there too- and I first met my step dad and his daughter back then, she had a red sweater. Back then, I remember showing off how I could turn a sleeping bag into a pillowcase, and that whenever I’d eat something I’d get my hair caught in my mouth too. My favorite animal was the Zebra.
Fastforward again, I’m about seven now, I am living with my mom, brother, step brother, and two stepsisters in a realatively large house with a dog and everything. Our teacher would let us keep a little journal that we would write in. I’d make up stories about my own little imaginary life, and if I wrote something truthful- I’d exagerate the story alot. During school I had one friend. I forgot her name…but every day I would walk to school with my brother, and once we both arived about the same time we would walk to our class together. I don’t remember when- but I think it was in the summer that my brother and I got this babbysitter. She lived in a somewhat crummy house- I just remember that everything was always so…brown. She had alot of antique/collectable items as well. She would feed us half-cooked instant noodles for lunch while we watched “The Price is Right” and in the afternoon we would watch the Garfield cartoons. Her daughters were really mean to me too, and their mothr did nothing to stop them (she practicly encouraged them!) they were verbaly abusive to me…mind you, I was only 7 at the time. I remember one time, one of the daughters (she was blonde) picked up this little blue book and said “It says in the bible that your fat” before putting it back on the bookshelf. I always found it odd that they liked to stomp on the bees that flied around their porch, especialy because I was the kind of kid who believed that even inanimate objects had feelings. The only times they were ever nice to me was the day we were moving, the day where I was stung by a bee by smashing it in between my hands, and the day where my brother fell off a picnic table and busted his head on a cinderblock because we were running from a rabid dog. I have some good memories though too- like how every morning, my brother would bring the dog up and get er to jump up on the bed and lick my face o wake me up, and some other stuff too that maybe I’ll talk about later.
That is the end of the first two major chapters of my life- the early years and living with my mother. I have alot more memories to share (don’t worry, they are nice ones!) from that time, but I decided to end this post here because it’s soooooo long. x__x
Coming up Next?
Memories (aka life story) part 2: Living with my dad (years 8-13) and living with my dad part 2 (13-present)
My first Post… March 23, 2008
Posted by mirla in : Uncategorized , add a commentWell, this is my first post in my new blog, this is mostly a thought tracker. It’s not like I have some really traumatic expiriences as a child, so it’s not going to be a trigger-fest for most people, nor some gut wrenching stories.
So, many people seeing my journal now know me as Kaika from psych central (if not them I’m a little worried) as for an explaination of the username and title: “Mirla” is the female form of the spanish word for blackbird…and the title says “Deje los pajaros volar librimente.” which is rough spanish for “Let the birds fly freely”. Why S[anish? I don’t know…I guess it’s a bit more personal…and stylish (oh, and too many people I know IRL would recognise this blog if I use the same usernames that I always do.)
Hello world! March 23, 2008
Posted by mirla in : Uncategorized , 1 comment so farWelcome to Psych Central Blogs. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!