Allison Krauss - It Doesn't Matter

It doesn't matter what I want
It doesn't matter what I need
It doesn't matter if I cry
Don't matter if I bleed
You've been on a road
Don't know where it goes or where it leads
It doesn't matter what I want
It doesn't matter what I need
If you've made up your mind to go
I won't beg you to stay
You've been in a cage
Throw you to the wind you fly away
It doesn't matter what I want
It doesn't matter what I need
It doesn't matter if I cry
Doesn't matter if I bleed
Feel the sting of tears
Falling on this face you've loved for years

Sad Sponge

That's what I am, at least in the eyes of my brother--and rightly so. He found a simple way to define exactly what I am. A sad sponge.

No, not a sad sponge-- some lonesome sea sponge that wallows in it's own pity at it's inability to reproduce through budding.

Rather, water is to sponge, as sadness is to me.

I absorb all the sadness around me, albeit my own or those in my life. I search for sadness, I feed of sadness, I harbor sadness.

I can't seem to move to work on my own issues until those around me have had their problems alleviated. I try to take that sadness, that frustration, that suffering and make it my own. Once they're uplifted, then I can tackle my issues at hand.

What an exhausting life, the life of the sad sponge.

What happens when max absorbancy is reached? Rupture? Apathy?

Who knows, but I certainly feel I'm reaching my breaking point as of late and there's no one to blame but myself.

Is it too much to ask to be able to help others and still be able to lead the life I'd like to? Apparently so.

Where is my mind?

I've lost the relief I once obtained from blogging.  A real tragedy.

I used to feel the weight lift off my chest with every letter I'd type. The heavy burden that maimed my heart dissipating as my thoughts poured on the empty screen.

Have I fallen so far that what once was uplifting has become nothing more than another obstacle to overcome?

It surely feels so.

Is this what has become of me? A constant reminder of my own fears? You are a product of your environment, it shapes you--molds you of the past and present. The mold is cracked, smoldering. Weak and crumbling--used and barren.

I feel desolate, dark....crestfallen. Having only the faintest flutter of a heartbeat. Shallow breathing, streaks glisten on my face. Strapped bare in the confines of my own mind. A slew of old memories always unfolding, a constant reminder of the ever lingering silence of my present loneliness.

I feel I'm searching for a fruitless nectar. That which I wish to obtain, again, is far from reach--forever from reach. I once thought it was unfathomable to fully grasp the loss, but I feel it's full weight now. Nights like this, when thoughts flood; can't help but aware myself that things are not what they once were and never will be.

I'd give anything to quell this feeling...

Listening to #1 on my playlist...

Despite the fact that my problems do not entail any relation to drinking, I can't help I but relate. I never let myself get better. I'm running in the same damn circle I have for years. Sure, for a short while I was off this worn path and onto something better--but that was thrown back in my face months ago. So here I am, wallowing in my own self pity. "When you realize it's a pattern and not a phase..." couldn't strike home more for me. I don't allow myself to get better. I hold my hopes high but my motivation low. I want someone to come in and swoop me off my feet. I want someone to take away all the bad. I want one person to UNDERSTAND my problems instead of shying away from me like others. When my friends notice there's something wrong I push them away, yet I expect to get better. I expect that all it'll take is that one person. THAT PERSON HAS TO BE ME. I have to get better before I can really expect to find someone willing to dedicate themselves to me, when I can barely commit to myself.

I've noticed that no matter how good of a friend, lover, girl friend, daughter, sister that I am, it won't keep them around until I give myself some leeway to enjoy life. I worry so damn much about what others will think of me if I mess up that I won't participate in many activities. I get so caught up in my own desperation to move on that I forget to move forward in my academics. I'm in a deep freaking hole.

Things are better now, when will I realize that?

I'm not surrounded by people who think the world is better off without me.
I'm out of an sexually/mentally abusive, unfaithful, controlling relationship.
I have friends and family who support me.
I have a dad, despite the distance, who is more attentive now than he ever was during my childhood.
I'm on good terms with my good ex, though I still feel the ting of abandonment from that relationship. Even he didn't keep his word on the one area he said he would, that aside I can still say he is one of the most amazing guys I know.  He caused me no real harm, I wish him the best.

I've been abandoned, scarred, tormented and morphed by many people. It's hard to not in the mirror and think how unattractive I really am. It's hard to trust people when every day I see their lies--that's what happens when you become accustomed to watching in the silence, you learn to read people, you begin to know them better than they know themselves. It's hard not to worry that if I do dedicate myself again to life, to truly let go and move on, that it won't happen again. I know it'll never be like it was in my younger years...but the thought still cripples me. However, I know that's not my only problem--when I'm down, I make myself fall harder. Instead of trying again, I just tell myself more reasons to why I should stay down.

I'm determined to fix this damn it. It's been too long. I have time to myself now-a-days. I will do this.