So as I wander room from room, I recollect-

Out the window lies the deck that my early year friends and I slept out on-

Talking crazy stories and feeling like our world was the only one.

Where my sister went to hide away with friends in our pre-teens;

And she taught me to smoke in third grade.

Maybe smoking may kill but for now its relaxing.

The room that I first got high in; with Lauren and Jon, watching “Dude Where’s My Car”

And eating Reese’s Pieces, my comforter in my closet because I was afraid

It would smell like those illegal things

And that room that the cop sat in, to remind me of the rape that stole my virginity-

Those haunting numbers of 2:14 still brings chills down my spine.

Who could ever forgive raping a nine year old?

And the bathroom door that I fell into drunk one night to only have my father wake up-

He had told me that I was a ‘fuck up child’

As I was sent to rehab for drugs that I felt I deserved, it stopped my mind for the moment

And the nights I was junked up, laying outside his door listening to even breaths-

Hoping for a way out;

Before sneaking out to the next town to get high and drunk and fuck,

(oh the dirty sex that now I regret more than anything)

Arriving right before he woke up so that I could get to school early,

(after my morning bowl and dose of anime)

And he thought I was depressed so he took me off the frequent groundings I received-

From the actions I deserved them from,

(I had the poor man wrapped around my finger)

And in the basement where me and my first gothic friend got drunk

After I introduced myself so ostentatiously

Drinking whisky and vodka and Pepsi

Until I threw up on the floor and cigarettes were scattered

A random sponge amongst the masses so clean up the mess.

The video games and stupid laughs because we knew we were hopeless

And how many nights I counted the stairs going up…. 14….

And how many nights I opened the front door hoping my dad wouldn’t wake up

Though I knew he was going deaf from the NASCAR races,

And realize I was adding another stowaway in my bedroom,

With all its pictures of foreign places around so that I could get away;

I used to get fucked up and pretend I was any place but this;

Anywhere but in my body;

Another something I would regret more if I remembered it properly,

And I did so many stupid things back then,

Blacking out in that parking lot, in the snow, I still have the pamphlet,

(they told me the truth about drugs; I knew what I got myself into.)

I knew when the nurses told me it would kill me that it probably would

And that day I introduced two of the people who are still in my life today-

Into darkness, and light, the best and the worst.

It may have changed them but I’m so glad they didn’t get into as deep as I was

I don’t deny, some of my top days ever were on DXM, and some of my craziest life-changing

Experiences, they were new and intense and just like me

Almost dying sort of does that to a person

Sitting strapped to that IV that beeped your lifeline till the bruises and cuts

On your self-mutilated arms faded

And disappointing you parents now is the worst thing ever

Never let them aware of your addictions that are still present

Smoke that weed discreetly

And get honor-roll grades

And graduate with cum laude status, get a good job.

If you can do that, your goal, (besides mixing your hobby and job)

Will have proved that family wrong that you are not a black sheep druggie;

And I will grow older and more mature, surrounded by people that I care about,

And I will remember my whole life after I’ve lived it,

And record it in diaries

And with this technology at my fingers, I find it way easier to type this emotion

Than to blot it with ink;

Though I think keeping written journals is still entirely admirable,

But this is my eternity.

And I’m on an anti-depressant, mixed with vodka and weed all night;

But I’m coming down from my high and know that I won’t be able to do this

Ever again;

Smoke both, with a comfortable air and complacent attitude;

And with Kelli next to me, looking so damn lovely

And later we are going downtown to Allester&Deacons for coffee

She has to work at one but all I have to do is show up at the Mobile Gas Station

Before Five and after Eleven.

And yesterday really put me in perspective;

With all that family; the people I’m blood related too who are so different than me,

And my Godmother who comforted me, she’s making an effort with my mum

For the first times in years

And no fights today, whatsoever.

No family drama.

A good day.

I can’t wait to live on my own, now.

With my books and my technology surrounding me,

And that lull of comfort;

Like in my last dorm room.

But also, as good as it is to think about it, it’s even better in reality

Both Japan;

And your true friends;

Because they will continue to care long after your words ricochet across them

Like a bullet.

And I feel like I can do so much in my life;

From the support I receive and from my own will

Not some god judging me

And I have at least one person who loves me for me

Just one is all it takes

And in the end my ideals will make me who I am;

I may be selfish but I will also be kind.

I will focus on my achievements but I will also celebrate

The people around me who actually did something more than I could ever hope to do.

More than watching those fireworks, on that freezing winter night.

And more than getting fucked up alone, these people are so precious

That it makes me sad.

And as I sit here in my post-high still tripping faze I can’t even fathom

That I’m leaving the country in 82 days.

Because all I can think about is getting a job and out of my house;

And chilling with Kelli, Blaze, and Alonna as much as I can.

And for forgiving myself.

For all the bad things that occurred in this house, something was reborn.

I feel like I shouldn’t have been as fortunate;

To have these people

They knew how messed up I was, how the drugs got a hold of me

This was the first house that I got fucked up on DXM in,

After that gym class with aerobics (I remember that day with crystal clarity)

and the health office, speaking to my mum for the first time

In four months (after I dismissed her because it was easier that way)

And thinking about how amazing it felt that I took it again the same day.

I came home and watched a stupid movie

And my grandmother was hurt by my drug abuse, my dad was ashamed

And how my perspective changed and how my life would have been so much better

If Sanja never introduced me to that drug.

She came up to me to say, “Put these in your pocket, take eight at a time…”

And when Alonna, who I’ve known since 7th grade, and Kelli who I’ve known since 9th,

Met in that computer room, though we had never talked and though we had prior

Classes together;

I had been avoiding reality for a long time since then.

The things that have shook itself into my mind are now imbedded deeply;

Wrapped in my storybook fantasy that I would absorb from various novels.

Can you remember when you banished the things you felt were uncool?

Now they make you who you are.

I tried to hate anime and manga when I had my old friend because they were nerdy,

But now my hobby and passion has turned into my potential career.

I dream and dream so hard that now it’s something I can acess

I remember my friend making fun of my clothing,

And how I went crazier after that with out-of-fashion shit;

And someday I want to be a support to my friends because they love me;

Because their care is all I need, not my self confidence.

They keep me sane, they keep me happy, they keep me alive

I have my father, my hilarious, sarcastic, Studebaker freak, loving, daddy.

Whose supported me since the hospital bed and the couch that he cried on

and the car ride after Indiana when we ruined his whole trip-

And who looked at me when I got a full A-B honor roll report card after college

And said

“I’m so proud of you.”

And he looks at me like I’m something he can brag about,

It makes me tremble

And my mother, who despite the fights and how much she hurts me,

She loves me,

And knows what I love, and accepts but doesn’t understand it,

And she’s always commenting how she loves me being with her

And how I know that I can calm her down

And laugh when’s she’s pissed at no reason,

And in the end I know she held my hand on one of those overdoses

And knows that I almost killed myself

And for that I’m so ashamed

But she knows the friends I have no support me now

And even if I haven’t found that one true love,

I’ve loved like nothing.

My mother is truly underappreciated.

She’s always there to support me.

I love… and appreciate, everything, so very much.

As I get older sometimes I get lost in the past,

And it hurts,

But then I’m spun around to now

And realize how very much I have to look forward too.

I want that dream job.

I want that freedom.

I actually, very much want to fall in romantic love.

Cheesy, cliché romance.

Like the kind I write in my personal fanfiction.

Boy and girl holding hand whispering on a ferris wheel their eternal oaths

And I also want for someone to understand me like Kelli does;

Someone who could love me like she can’t

And could cherish my memories like I cherish theirs

Because forgetting scares me more than anything else.

The waterfall at Keller’s Lake, my sister’s dog running over my 89 year-old grandma

And how we all got sunburned

And laid on my driveway, complaining;

And us all skateboarding downtown at three am

Trying to be cool but failing so much that we were

And the times we would walk to the elementary school

And stand-swing

And the times in the middle of the summer,

With all windows open we would leisurely smoke cigarettes and drive to nowhere

And how much we would laugh at nothing, because it meant everything

And they will never know how much that means to me.

They are so precious to me that it makes me sad.

Or even just going to parties after anime club on Thursday nights,

It’s called “Thirsty Thursday’s” in college,

Oh the different themes-

Toga, black and white, ‘What would you do for a dollar?’, Anything But Clothes,

Those drunk, intense times.

Those people I met at college made me ambitious.

The people back home make me want to succeed.

I know for a fact that if I had to, I would stop doing drugs.

I would stop drinking.

That job is my biggest goal and I would do anything to attain it.

But besides that, I want a cozy little house with all my stuff in the same place;

And a grand library that people can gape at. Books everywhere.

All full of knowledge.

I want to be smart.

And as I fall out of this high drunk stage;

I feel nothing but hope.

That calm but exhausted feeling that everything is going to be okay

And those times like going to the beach, and swimming across the bay only to smoke,

Or if you were too poor to smoke you would bum off your friends;

That will to see thing will bring your biggest adventures.

And each time the summer comes from this year forth;

Just like it’s always been;

Will be the best times of my life, I know and respect this.

I don’t think anyone could ever understand what summer means to me

So much life

So many fun smiles and laughs

Going to Oak Island with Kelli and swimming all day,

Building sandcastles on the shore to have boats wipe them away.

Sitting in my mum’s apartment when I was thirteen,

watching the sun glow off the collected Mountain Dew cans,

and breathing in the humid air.

Sitting in that old apartment building and smoking

eating Taco Bell, fellow companionship where you least expect it.

Talking till the hours receded,

Then attending school the next day, tired as hell.

That summer before I entered college;

Smoking weed every day, going to work hyped on AMP

Flirting with the Mennonite boy who finally got the hint,

And finally feeling complete.

How many times have I felt this happiness recently?

The only reason I get depressed now is my mother;

But even then it will never be as intense as that self-loathing I used to feel.

And in three months I’ll be so very happy

That I won’t be able to do it;

And that will also be an amazing feeling.

And I’m sure I’ll come down from this high but I don’t really care.

Because it’s a roller coaster.

But until then.

I have two months.

Almost sixty days.

Until then; I’m going to get a job, work around my friends

And enjoy my youth while I have it;

Because if I’ve learned anything off all the books I’ve read,

It’s that you should cherish your youth and make yourself happy

And since I’ve no faith in god

It doesn’t matter that I sin

Premarital sex my ass,

It’s all about test driving the car before you drive it.

Okay, so if you haven’t surmised by this point I’m pretty eccentric,

Or as my mum likes to call me, ‘eclectic’

And at 8:30 AM, without a day of sleep, I’m finally falling away

I’m riding off my drunk

And I’m not going to drive until I’m sober,

In which I will drink coffee and go downtown

And text my beloved (in my head) and think about doing art;

I want to finish a huge piece in my sketchbook.

I want to color until my fingers hurt,

And I kind of want to go back to high school and visit that asshole art teacher- Mr. Robertson;

And tell him how awesome my life is and how shitty his must be;

And I won’t be bitter, oh no.

Damn, the stories. I wish that I could write down all of my memories before I forget them.

Perhaps I should start.

I will begin with everything from childhood; that truth which was forgotten

And will continue.

I have five diaries in my life; the opening is on from my early 15-16 years,

Then my first true diary; Lauren’s Summer.

That’s what I call it now, after all.

Then my druggie winter. The worst of them all.

When I first read that after two years, I sobbed alone.

Then my deviart. My most recent.

And finally; my personal one now I’m keeping. It’s saved for overseas.

I wonder why this feels so awesome. Just the song playing from my computer

And the taping of the keys among the early morning sun

And the thought of so much more

And as much as my ranting may be repetitive

I am so thankful.

I used to think that I could only write when I was depressed.

That the poetry that came from me had to be perfect, had to be worded ever-so-correctly.

But now I don’t even plan.

I type, and type.

I want to write a story someday

That will make someone cry

Not in a sad way,

But in a mere bittersweet manner

I want people to learn from their mistakes

And I want people to treasure those in their lives

More than any mere possession

People to me are so much more important than an item;

To know that after I had my car accident

I had Ian, and Kelli, and Ashley comfort me.

Ashley cares so much, it’s surprising!

I probably hurt her in the past, because she didn’t know how in deep I was with drugs,

But yet she stays by my side, always ready for any crazy deviant deed,

And she will always bail me out of anything,

If I was stranded somewhere, she would drive to get me.

And I know it.

Maybe it’s because the friendships I’ve had have always influenced who I was;

Lauren got me into art;

Sonja got me into drugs;

Ashley got me into Ashley;

And Kelli and Alonna got me into corruption.

But in the end it all righted itself.

What the fuck?

Why the hell am I not dead, seriously??

FIVE fucking overdoses, a two week coma, yet to years of college later,

I’m more successful than I’ve ever been

It overwhelms me sometimes how fortunate I am.

I think that because I was under appreciating it before, I’m holding it dear now;

Corey’s death awakened something inside me;

It’s when I stood and really realized that could have been me.

I wondered at that moment who would come to my funeral.

The family who would think, “What a shame,”

I was a 16 year old girl who was a breath away from a heart attack;

And yet that’s exactly what addiction is.

It was never a body addiction for me, though I loved how my body felt.

It was all in my mind.

I had felt that I always over considered things

And that I was reading into things too much, over thinking them,

And DXM eliminated that.

I took it almost every day for who knows how many months.

I was in the hospital five times, two of which I can’t remember much.

I remember crying, and pulling the IV out of my arm,

And the night after my second overdose I snuck out of my house,

With my hospital bracelets worn proudly,

To my drug dealers house, to get coke and week, and drink whisky.

How fucking stupid.

My sister was obviously more successful than me,

But I still feel like she accepts me.

In my first rehab,

She visited me.

She gave me a stuffed cat, which I still have to this day.

I wonder what she thought when I was in rehab,

For so long.

What a loser?

The next time she’s dead?

I knew that I was scared shitless.

That was the first time in my whole life that I was ever homesick for… home.

I would dream about my house, my high school,

And I would wake up and cry.

I would sob until the hall monitor called me to take a shower.

And after I left I didn’t do DXM for nearly six months.

Even now I don’t do it.

I mostly stick to drinking; a Wisconsin dream of cheap beer;

And weed with my closer friends.

And even so I should stop typing-

Even though I don’t want to.

And should get going.

Though I know I will feel this way again.

I remember when my dad told me, “Remember this moment,

Whenever your life is filled with dark, remember how happy you are right now.

I will never forget.

I WILL NEVER FORGET