The Scariest place I've been

A journal prompt my senior year in high school lead to just a snippet of what was to become the journey or my next two years

The scariest place I’ve seen . . . 3.3.10.

               It’s deep and dark here, I feel like I can’t breathe here. It’s so silent here, I start hearing things, my own thoughts. Doubting me, judging me, scaring me until all I can do it back away and out. I wear a fake mask portraying my confidence and happiness, until I’m alone. It falls away until I’m left open and raw, stuck once again in what feels like a cage. I can’t fly away here. I can’t get out, I start to panic. I’m banging on this cage now, yelling into the darkness, until all I can do it sink deeper into myself. Swallowed up by tears and self-hate. I feel I can’t get out now, nor have I ever been. But my mask protects me, makes me safe and calm. Until those days where I find myself listening to my deep inner thoughts calling me from within the cage. “You’ll lose Cassidy.” “No one will love you.” “You’ll never be beautiful.” “You’ll lose everything.” And then I believe them and the cage laughs as I get sucked back in. Laughs as I cry and whisper, “I know, I know.” My shaking body is the only thing that makes me open my blurry eyes and look around my room. Look out my window at the bright new day. I have to find strength somewhere, so I pull on my mask and tell my cage, “Not today Cage, not today. No, today, I think I’ll live.” It whispers to my that it will always be there, that deep, dark cage. Waiting for me. And I believe it, because it is apart of me, forever, sadly. But every time I make the decision to not listen, my mask becomes apart of the real me. And soon I’ll be able to ignore the cages meaningless taunts, as long as I choose to make the decision to live and not listen. Live with the promise that there’s so much more to life than this cage calling out to me that there’s nothing left, I know that it lies. But for now I fear I will always find myself stuck there from time to time, but the time gets less and less everyday.

An ENTIRE book played out in my head last night and this is what's left of it

She's laying there unconscious he's staring at her intently. He'll have to leave soon and he doesn't know if she'll wake to remember him or remember any of it. He grazes all the parts of her he has once touched hoping the electricity he's feeling through his finger tips as they slowly go up her arm are penetrating her skin and reaching her blood and bringing it back to her heart.  Finally after his finger tips have explored every part he has already been, her forehead, nose, cheeks, neck, arms. There is one place missing, one thing missing. And he slowly brings his finger tips to his lips and then gentle brush them across hers. At least they got to have one kiss goodbye. He pulls back and turns away, his hand dangling near hers is suddenly entwined with warmth, someone is latching on and there is a fast pulse running through it. He whips around to see her already sitting up, hand glued to his her eyes dart around frantically trying to piece how this all happened why she is here. And then she looks at him and he's scared that hand will let go and everything will crack right in front of him. Afraid she'll lose it and scream for him to get out, who are you, all these terrible things that he knows will break him down to nothing. But instead she looks at him, those long black eyelashes, those soft green eyes, look at him with such sweetness, such worry, and such happiness he's not at all sure what she's thinking. He's about to speak softly, say his name and begin the story of all of this. But instead when he sits and leans into her, she leans back and just kisses him. The warmth of their lips meet and suddenly his whole body is just gone. Gone to the heat, the soft wind that blows in through the window, the beatings of his rapid heart. Everything feels gone, except for those things, he doesn't feel like anything, kissing her it's so new, so incredible. Who was he again? Who was she? It oddly seemed for a moment it was the two of them as one, one person in that room and no one else. Sharing this moment. The heat ran through his body like lightning striking at random moments. Goosebumps rising on his left arm, a sigh falls from in between their lips. the tingling feeling flutters up his neck leaving trails of cold air that is quickly replaced by her warm hands and he forgets where he is until she wraps him back up again and pulls him under. When he pulls away, holding on to the beds rails is all he can do from passing out from lack of oxygen. His heart is hammering, stomach fluttering and he's lips already feel swollen and red. He touches them quickly quietly as to make sure this is real, she's awake and simply wanted to kiss him. She remembers. And as he looks at her she answers, "Of course I remember you Finn." "I love you, Emma."

**POV**

Of course he loves me, I know that but it's so hard to accept. I love him but it's so hard for me to accept. I can say it and mean it but there will be something underneath something else that I will be destined to search for the rest of my life, the real truth of why I can say these things and mean them with all my heart but not have the emotions attached. I should be crying, a normal woman would be crying after nearly dying waking up and knowing he's there waiting on you. Brushing past your lips with the slightest touch of his warm, soft fingertips. I could smell his hands, his working hands. He probably spent hours trying to brush away the farms day off, the dirt and manure, paint and hay. I smelt all those things and I knew he was here, I was safe. So instantly safe that from whatever place I was in he brought me back and I snapped out of it shot right up and grabbed the hand of the man who I knew I was in love with and who was about to leave me. As he sits I can tell he's scared I'm going to meltdown and not know him. Not know everything that has happened, and maybe I should, isn't that what's suppose to happen. You brain cuts those things off so it can heal until you're ready to remember but I remember everything, so it's either that I'm a fast healer or there's something wrong with my brain. But something being wrong with me is nothing new. So as he leans in and I can softly here the beginnings of "Hi I'm Fin-" I cut him off and kiss him instead. Determined  to make him feel every inch of what I felt as I lay there and feel his fingertips trace my body, he was waking me up but I couldn't call out to him yet. I was screaming it in my head "FINN" FINN" but my voice was trapped up there in my brain it's not even in the right place. He touches me in the sweetest of places. Of all the places we have slowly explored of each other, softly, gently. He touches my forehead and wipes a strand away from my face and I cry as I remember the beach wind whipping my hair up around our faces and Finn putting his arms up between us so my hair wouldn't whip us in the face and we were cracking up and finally Finn gave up and rolled over right on top of me. He pinned all my hair down to the sand and hollered out "Too late now wind you can't get us." I giggled at his foolishness but at the moment he leaned in closer than we ever had been before. My giggle was quickly stifled  and my breathe was almost nonexistent. And he just lay there, above me lips so close to mine and he took his fingertips gently across my forehead and whipped away my falling hair. And then he got up, leaving my lips dry and empty. And that's why he did it. The one place we hadn't explored, the one place we hadn't been but were getting to until this awful accident. His fingertips finally reach my lips and I can smell him, breathe him in and like a breathe of fresh air I'm awake and he's there and he's mine.

"I love you too, Finn." I say back after what feels like hours of hesitation, his lights up and his lips find mine again and I realize I do love Finn, I just have to let him love me. I'll try and push away try and not get hurt but I can't I need him to love me and I think he'll be okay at this new realization of mine. I'm going to let him love me. So I don't pull back from the kiss I go in deeper and the only thing that's stopping us is at some point we'll need air and food to survive.





Super fucking lame I know. But roll with the punches. This was just a super rough draft of a DREAM I had, obviously dreams are hard to recreate and dreams are perfect so obviously on paper this isn't as perfect as it was. but hey I'm rolling with it.

Also super bad grammar, punctuation and shifts of person. like third to first, obviously. I will edit it bit by bit. But to be honest, two days later, not in my Ambien (sleeping pill) state of mind this is pretty good. And I'm liking it and STILL rolling with it.

Trying some writing excersises

So this is the first writing exercise I might immediately delete because I am under the influence of my sleeping pill and I'm afraid of what will be written when it takes over control. So quick quick let's begin. and Let's begin by saying that why I love this rather fun loving drug it's affects are so strange in the fact that in my mind I am seeing this as a meeting. That you words have come together to see what we are here to be discussed. Now as we know Cassidy never speaks when she writes. To us, she is silent, but we all know the real Cassidy and just how crazy that is but right now she's not even in her own state of mind. She is in ours, she's studying our words and the way they're formed. The importance of words. She's interested in what we do on our down time. When we're not need, like when people are sleeping for instance. Do books have dancing parties where they meet the page that is above them most of them time and dance around in a flame of fiery words she had discarded that day anyway. It is a funeral of shorts for the words, saying good-bye to the words that didn't make the cut, weren't needed in the most recent book of the Lady's precious book. Just the other day that fiery funeral consisted of 'It's' family boy 'tittle', the 'it's' family had thought of the word and created him and keep them as their own it was meant to be an accented way to say 'little' for the four-year-old boy character the Lady is writing for. But she thought that did not sit well with her, no it didn't and she marked it in the pile of words that are not useful. The 'it's' family is quite distraught they'll have to discard of tittle He was so kind innocent. Being so new and all he very much resembled the baby. The it's wanted to grow him up into a bigger better word but no Lady won't have it and since she cant' hear our thoughts and we can't see her, Tittle will have to be destroyed. . . tittle . . . tittle. . . tittle. . . tittl. . . titt. . . tit. . . ti. . . t. . . . . and just like that he was gone WAHHHHHHHHHHHH WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BABY MY BABY the words have no place anymore on this page. where is this page going? where am I? I'm no where between the words market and apples. That's where I'm suppose to be. WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY BABY. WHY is somebody screaming? It's has just lost her baby ma'am tittle. . . Oh well that's a dear shame my heart goes out to you It's I'll stop by with Mr.Letter's famous Printing Pie. it will help the grief hunny. BAAAAAAAA thank you BAAAAAA       BAAAABBABAAA the sobbing can still be heard all the way till the end of the page. My goodness gracious Lady has got us in a uproar of chaos with this new book of hers. All over the place we are, I have never meet a woman so disagreeable as It's and the way the apostrophe can either exist or not exist. Honestly most complicated woman in my entire life. And her sobbing all over the place? Unacceptable. This town we don't have those kinds of emotions 'Unless they're written for us, Mrs. Books.' Ah yes I guess you're right at that, That. But good heavens this book needs to happen fast this page is driving me bonkers. . . LET US OUT LADY .  . .

NEWS FLASH NEW FLASH:

Lady has updated her book, she would like all the words to know that she has decided to keep them in their choas until further notice. WHHHHHHAT?! This is maddness, LADY MY NAME IS MADDNESS AND THIS WILL NOT STAND. . .

SILENCE. . . I am Lady this is just a writing exercise. No book is being written no book shall ever use this behavior and chaos on this page. Until it is tided up and fixed up proper. Where It's can perhaps be as proper as you, Mrs.Books one day. . . have I offended anyone here? It's is just as a person as you. And this meeting is run entirely by me. This page is being written the EXACT way I want it to be written so I'm sorry Mrs. Books but if you don't like it. I can have you characters name be thrown in the fire. . . AUDIBLE GASPS come from the crowd.

Mrs. Books. Well I never, I was simply saying. I know what you were saying Mrs. Books. that you have a way of order and I don't and that everything should be laid out in order before writing even begins. But see here's that idea and here's me tossing into the fire pit. Fuck that idea, excuse my french Mrs. Books but this is actually kind of fun pretending, while on a very intense sleep aid pill like I'm talking actually talking to the words that I'm writing. While not even speaking I'm just having this conversation in my head and writing it down at the same time. It's all so crazy isn't it? But awesome. This should be a book. Really it should be. Funny, witty, cute, humorous could be a kids book. That'd add a nice touch silly paintings to go in it. Anyways this meeting is adjourned for now. There is another pressing matter I must attend to before it slips my mind. Condolences to the families who lost words today. I can always bring them back, in other books just not in this one. I'm sorry.

Good day to you all.

Being Bullied

Holy shit I'm going to try and keep this short. But I'm watching Cyberbully right now and it has me crying and angry and fucking pissed off and then sobbing. I hate bullies. And I shouldn't because they're people who are insecure and have decided to take their insecurities out in a negative way. But what gives bullies the right to choose people who have a certain glow around them, an aurora of happiness and try and destroy it? You need to find a better way to put your angry and whatever is making you destroy peoples lives into a better outlet. I think bullies and the people being bullied all just need to talk to people. I was stubborn as hell when it was first brought up that I should see a therapist. I thought, I'll have to admit there's something wrong with me. I'll have to admit I always cry, I'll have to admit I'm always angry, I'll have to admit I used to cut myself, I'll have to admit that sometimes I wanted to die but I was too scared. I felt to much for my family and I didn't want to leave them. But here I am aren't I? Admitting all this? On a public site where people can publicly tear me down and destory me. But see they already have. I was destroyed a long time ago. I was literally torn to shreds and that evidence was marked on my skin. I seared my pain away with scissors on my write. Slow short movements because I was actually afraid of the pain and I didn't like it, didn't know why I was doing it but I had heard it reminded you you were alive, but for what purpose? That person was destroyed. That little girl before her gone and ripped away. But I'm a new person now. New found love for life.

But I'm going to be honest with you. . . I'm glad I was bullied the way I was. Now don't get me wrong I wish I was never bullied, I shouldn't have been and I don't know why I was a target of so much hate. I don't know what I did wrong and I literally cried myself to sleep every night in middle school asking myself that question. But if I felt that way then. In 3rd-8th grade. Facebook hit my 7th grade year, Myspace 6th. Cyberbullying hadn't been really a thought, what the fuck are the kids nowadays being bullied like? FUCK that. It makes me so angry. Like so fucking pissed. I AM HERE! I want you to find me and know that those bullies mean nothing. YOU know what they say isn't true and it sucks but please find people who will listen. Adults might sound lame, but sometimes they're the best to turn to to make you feel not so alone. I don't trust have of the kids in my age group. Which is probably why I have a very small circle of friends and that took years of them going through some serious shit with me and stuck with me to make me realize I could trust them. I am so thankful actions are being taken against cyberbullying. Because there's a scene (and yes I realize it's an ABCFamily movie but this actually happens so I don't think I'm taking this movie too literally) where the mother tries to call an attorney to try and fight for her daughter and the attorney goes "I can't do anything if it didn't happen in person." are you fucking kidding me? Her bullies almost committed murder because this girl tried to take her own life because of them. . . I have never cried so hard in my entire life. This subject upsets me so much. Whether you're being bullied because you're fat, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, you're beautiful and I believe in you and everything you're capable of. Truth be told these people are the ones who will change the world, not the bullies, not the kids who spend their time bullying people in school instead of getting an education. And I don't want to hate on bullies. I want to help bullies. I want to help everyone. I try and not have a shit take on life, I really try and see good in people. But movies like this, make me realize maybe some people just don't have good. Because what kind of heart and soul 2can you have that deems this acceptable? To punish someone for nothing and punish them to their death. . . I wish suicide wasn't a concept something not possible something no one ever knew about. I don't like it. It honestly makes me break down into sobbing fits thinking about kids who are still just kids taking their lives and never getting to see what they turn out to be. If someone had told me 4-5 years ago. I'd be going to Community College right now, I'd not be working at Price Chopper anymore, I'd have found a perfect family to work for instead with three beautiful sons, one with Cerebral Palsy who is smarter than me, and one daughter, I'd tell you none of that will happen. But if I had taken my life in 7th grade, I'd never know. And honestly not meeting that family, not meeting my Jack, or my Matthew dude, or my Sammy man. Not going to GCC and meeting all the friends I have there. I can't imagine THAT.

Am I making ANY sense? I'm rambling I know that. My blogs seem to be about a bunch of random rants and weird shit. I just want to try and explain who I am. I want to try and explain that I feel so deeply, love so fiercely , am the most loyal person. I will have your back till the day I die. I feel the wind every day and take a moment to close my eyes and let it wash over me. I smell the grass every morning. I take a book out just to smell the pages, I bury my face into my dogs fur and breathe in her scent and hold on to her like she's the last thing I'll ever see again. I make myself cry just thinking about these things because for the last few years. After finding a therapist who I love so much feel comfortable texting and ranting about a bad day or a happy day or a whatever kind of day, after find the joy in my life I never thought possible I have no made it my life long goal to help you find yours. I want you to find your joy, to find your love that's inside you waiting to bust free. You have to start with admitting things to yourself, the good and the bad. I had to admit that I had feelings of failure and hatred that I thought myself ugly everyday and somedays I wanted to break the mirrors that showed my face. I had to admit all of that, which is easy the not so easy part is picking up those mirror shards, taping them together and looking at it and finding all my imperfections beautiful. On the outside, I love my long flowing hair, my sparkling ever changing eyes, I love my smile. On the inside, I love the way I love, I love the way I feel deeply for life. I know I'm beautiful. I also know my ugly side. You have to admit all this, feel it, let it go, bring it back and take in life again.

Please believe me. What people say to you won't matter years from now when you're somewhere else in the world and you never talk to those people again. You have to be the one that says I'm going to make it to that place where I never see those people again. I'm going to make it to the job I've always wanted, the country I've always wanted to visit. It's not six feet under letting the bullies win. They don't deserve that, you do.

Please fight. Please win. Don't give up. Don't let go.

Just another thing I wrote about the battle with depression

I suffer from depression and anxiety. I was bullied and teased everyday for being fat and ugly. I was told some horrible things and I believed in them everyday of my life from the second I woke up to the moment I went to sleep. Most nights I cried myself to sleep and in middle school I began to self-harm myself until some of my brave brave friends got me help. I have never thought about suicide because I know the devastating effects it would have on my entire family and my friends. But for those who do. I beg you to stick with me. To fight with me. Because believe me I know you’re pain. I know the heartache and I know deep darkness that surrounds you and makes you feel alone. But the thing is, is it just makes you. You can fight it you’re so much better than the darkness and the bullies that tease you. Stay with me. Fight with me. Life is so worth living for. Cause you know what? Two years later, after finally leaving high school, I have accepted my beauty. I am beautiful and I may be overweight or plus-size or whatever you wanna call me but I am beautiful. And this depression nags on me every day of my life and this darkness threatens my existence every day of my life. But I will fight it, and I will live because I have friends and family and beautiful dog worth living for. I have amazing dreams in store for my life and I actually love my school at the moment. I’m on the Dean’s list and I’m dancing and I’m writing and I’m doing everything it takes to be me and nobody else and it’s amazing. I’m making my own independent thoughts and it’s amazing. So stay with me, because I fucking feel you. Life sucks and it’s hard but don’t give up on it. Don’t give up on it. It gets better and I know you want it to be better right now but it takes time and you have to try and fight your way out of the darkness for it to begin but there are people that can help and there are people that want to say they love you. Like me, I love you. And I’m always here, it’s what I do. Mama Cass and all, that’s what they call me. So stay with me, fight with me. This battle is a tough one, but we’re soldiers you and me. And some say we’re weak but I think we’re the strongest of our kind. Because they don’t know what it’s like to live this way and still be here in the morning. They don’t know what it’s like to battle darkness everyday and survive. Fight. Stay. Live. Love. Laugh. And promise me to never give up. It will get better.
With all my love,
Cassidy

My depression

What have I done? The other day I was pulled over on the side of the road screaming my lungs out in rage and tears streamed down my face and no one was around me. I was alone. No one to save me, no one to put their arms around me, no one. And see I'm always there for anyone anytime of the day but I can't rely or let others do that for me. I need to be alone. Sometimes I often feel I deserve it but what have I ever done to deserve it? I don't know but that's a question I kept screaming along with 'Why me?' 'What have I done?' 'Why do I deserve this?' 'Why do I have to feel this way?'

What have I done? I can't begin to explain to you my depression a lot of people can't, a lot of people find it even hard to mention that they suffer from depression. Some people think it's a thing that will go away, others medicate themselves till they can't feel. People don't talk about it, people don't find help about it. But I can't do that. I can't shut myself up, but believe me I try. But the pain is to hard to bear to keep it in and so I try and rely on people and I try and tell them but could you handle all this? This baggage that I carry around, how can I expect someone to do this for me? To help me. But I need help. I need people to love me and I try so hard and you know what? People do. They love me and claim they love everything about me but they don't know the half of it. I feel a lot of people with depression think this way. They play pretend, happy, funny, loving, caring, kind, and you know what? I really am all of those things. But if I could just show you what's inside me. This demon eats me alive most days. I struggle to wake up, I struggle to sleep. I struggle to eat and when that begins I can't stop because I'm trying to feed my demon away for another day. Maybe make him stop tormenting me so much. This pain is unreal. It hurts more than the pain I suffer from my Chron's disease, which I was recently diagnosed with and am only learning to cope with. This pain I have suffered for two years now, but truthfully I can date it back all the way to the fourth grade maybe even longer than that. I was ripped from my innocence too early. I was teased and tormented to early and had to harshly succumb to the reality of this world. That it is cruel and it will tear down your dreams and it will rip away that pretty smile you wear on your face and make you replace it with a fake one.

What have I done? Tears stream down my face as I write this, quietly though seeing as it's midnight and I can't wake my family. They have no idea the pain I'm in. And I don't want to worry them. I never want to worry anyone. These burdens should be mine and mine alone. Right? I try so hard to make them mine but when I have the friends I do I feel so safe to tell them everything. And then I see them, their scared glances toward one another because I've made them uncomfortable, awkward, they don't know what to do. And they're frustrated because I keep bringing it up and they can only help me so much. But I'm driving them away. Expecting them to keep listening to me cry wolf. The same old story every time, pretty soon I'll turn into the boy who just gets eaten up by the wolf because people have stopped listening. I'm being very honest here because I'm not ashamed that I suffer from depression and anxiety. The ones who should be are the ones who relentlessly teased me for being fat. God forbid I like food. And it doesn't only stem from being called fat. I mean I can't really ever pinpoint why I feel the way I do. I just do. I try so hard to act right, whatever right is. But it's hard when I'm like this. In my deep hole I've come to call it. It's darkness surrounds me and cages me. Locks me tight away from the light and the air and the happiness. Away from my friends and my life. I just want to stay in bed most days.

What have I done? See I can stand here and be strong. I have been strong my whole life. I know my good qualities. I am a leader and I am brave. I'm brave enough to write this aren't I? Because people need to know what it's like. Depression isn't a joke and so many people suffer and just never know and fight so hard to be strong and then give up and I can't stand that. I want so badly to help you. Let you know that I will suffer my whole damn life with this but I will never give up because I know there are others like me. I am an intense person. I love life maybe more than others do and I make people uncomfortable because I love so strongly. But god damnit that's okay. And no one should be told that the life they lead isn't the right life. It is your life. You know people often tell me, when I tell them I'm getting ready to further my life. Apply for internships and find new colleges they tell me "How can you go away to another college when you couldn't go to the first one?" . . . Fuck them. I'm going to do this. On my own terms. You know I might've dropped out of college after one week and came home but you know who's decision that was? My fucking own. That was the first decision I can remember ever fully making where I didn't give a damn what people thought. Not my friends, not my family it was me. Call that selfish but I call that strength. I never would've started seeing a therapist, never would've seen a psychiatrist, never would've in a million years admitted that I was depressed although deep down I knew crying myself to sleep every night all through middle school wasn't okay. Calling my deep dark hole a home wasn't okay. So, with the help of my friends, I did all that. And yeah I'm on medication but let me tell you that it helps so much. You know except for right now and I'm in the funk I haven't been in months though. I mean months I have been happy and I have been putting my own life together and doing things my own way and loving it. I have been seeing the positive and loving it. And truth be told I think that I am so scared of that happiness lasting that I let the hole pull me back in for awhile. Because as sick as it is, it's my safety blanket. I'm afraid to be happy. Just like I'm afraid to be loved after having my heart trampled on. But I want to be. I want to love and be happy. But something in me, the demon won't let me. And you know I'm not all that religious but I was parked in front of a church when I had my break down and something about it made me want to laugh a little on the inside. Twisted right? But it just seemed odd to be breaking down, crying and screaming there. And when I looked over there was a sign that read "May the Good Lord Bless and Keep you." And I'm sorry there was something about that that made me cry even harder. Cause what I wouldn't do to believe in something like Him. To let my life be wrapped up in an unknown being and let them heal me and help me. But like I said I was ripped from my innocence to early and I just don't believe. I can like what God stands for, but I'm sorry I can't stand his followers.

So what have I done? But sit here and tell a computer, the internet, people unknown and known who might never read this what my depressions like. What my life is like what my mind goes through. It on a daily basis tries to get me to believe I am worthless and useless and unwanted and resented by my friends. And most days I believe it but I try so hard not to and I feel that should be enough but I know it isn't to some people that just isn't enough. I don't know what else to give but for the fact that I'll be here every day fighting. And I guess I want to share my story because I want you to know, whoever you might be, if you connect with this, fight with me. Stay. Because it sucks and I feel you believe me I fucking feel you. But leaving doesn't do any good. Because you just let the demon win, and I don't know about you but I'm a fierce bitch. I'm competitive and I don't like to lose. So the demon can try and eat me alive but it'll never get me. Not truly. Because there's something else in me, besides all the darkness I feel, besides the deep hole I get myself stuck in there's something else in me that knows there's more to life that just letting the demon win. I think it's the faces of my friends, the way dancing makes me feel, the way writing helps me express, the way the wind blows across my face, the sweet smell of grass and lilacs in the spring, the way water ripples across my skin, the way my dog snores and runs in her sleep, the way Harry fucking Potter kills Voldemort, the way Peeta loves Katniss, the way life just makes me step back sometimes and realize I will never let the demon win. And I will cry, and I will have many more terrifying break downs and I will make my friends uncomfortable and I will keep seeing a therapist and taking medications that make me better because I will be better. I can fight this. I have great things in my life that I never want to part from and why should I? Because a demon taunts me of all my flaws. We all have flaws and it's a downright lie if you think the bully who bullies you is perfect. Cause let me tell you something that bully probably has more problems then you do but they want to make it so you do, so you can be beneath them. But child, you never will be. You are always going to be so much better than any bully who ever tries to hurt you. Just stand your ground and stand strong.

So what have I done? I grew up in Vermont, that's one thing and if anything it might be the one thing that has truly saved my life. I have my soul mates here, my best friends. My dog, my family. I grew up around mountains that change with the seasons and make you stand back in awe. You love life in Vermont it's just a known fact. And I can't say what my life would be like if I never lived here, but because I do I can tell you this, this beauty of this state the way it makes me feel is indescribable but if I could try to put it into words it'd be this: I'm going to kick this demons ass. And that's just a known fact. So stick with me, and I guess we'll find out just how well I'll do. And I might have bruises, I already have scars but that's just life. And scars show that you're a warrior. I'm not gonna lie, I kind of love scars. And you know I write like it's so easy to accept all of this, but it's not and I know it's not and when I'm done here I'll probably go back to my cage and let it fill me with doubt and insecurities but I know there are places I can go to find strength and I know that little by little I'll try and accept it. I'll be stronger every day. That's a promise.

The Meat We Might Eat

So let me bring you up to speed here. It is January 9th, 2012 (approximately the second time I have ever written out 2012) and it is 2 in the morning. I have just arrived back at my house from a night out with my two favorite people. After some confusion and I'm pretty sure a second blog I just made out of frustration of said confusion I am here. Writing in what has been over a year for the very first time. Why has it taken me this long to write? After all I have missed writing very much and the answer is simple. For the past two years I have felt. . . uninspired. Uninspired with life, school was lame, my friends were gone (lame) and I was facing a deep depression that had me cut off all that I loved. . . including writing. But now those two years have turned into now, right now, me sitting here in a daze looking at my brightly lit computer screen fighting sleep but wanting to get this all down. But it's a lot to get down so I might give up at 3 am because I'm going to need to recap what a kind of year it's been since High School ended how my message of life has changed and then changed again. How my dark days turned to light and everything seems so freakin awesome now. Yes to right about the good I'm going to have to start with the past. Just a little past and veryyy summed up. For your benefit of course.


Now lets see, I just have some first things that have happened upon me I must write down before I forget. These are major. This one just came upon me. It has occured to me that a lot of people on the East Coast are angry. We've got mean New Yorks, Massholes, Connect-ti-oh well we're not going there and then the New Hampshits (hahahaha) and then us the Vermonsters (represent!) oh and then there's Maine, and Rhode Island and Maryland? Fuck is that on the East Coast (as I'm saying this I realize that I am thinking New England and that the East Coast is a grand scheme of many states, oops, whatevss). Anyways excuse my language I'm literally speaking in my head all of this and I'm kind of talking to myself while writing it down. So this is my language, to myself. Anyways but it doesn't make sense, why are we angry? Is it cause winter is such a cold-hearted bitter bitch? And it makes us East Coasters the same? Us East Coasters should unite. Show some solidarity and love, I mean think about it we are the Coast that the entire world looks to. Our time Zone is better than everyone elses. It is only the New Year when the ball has dropped live from New York. So everywhere else in America it doesn't count when it's midnight for you. It's 2012 bitches, the stock market begins with on East Coast standard time, along with TV shows and whatever the hell else. We have seen before the rest of America so that makes us the only part of America that matters. Right? I mean waddup? That's just my thought. This is totally going to be the stupidest thing I'll ever read in the morning.

But moving on to my life. In the past year I've dealt with my issues. I have been seeing a Therapist for over a year now and that has completely changed my life. I have taken on a new roll of honesty and happiness. I am really trying not to hold anything in. I want to be an open book and in many ways I am. When I write I am not afraid to share my entire life story. Because I know that it's up to you the reader whether you really want to read it or not. So really to me it seems like I'm just writing to myself and I'm also really not afraid of what peoples comments are on my writing, I will never hear them. Like when I wrote Cody a letter professing my love, which in somes ways is what this entire change in my life stems back to I wasn't afraid. Writing a letter may seem 8th grade but it was the best way I knew how. I knew that writing him a letter I would leave myself uncensored and hold nothing back. Which is exactly what I did, and I left it on his doorstep and ran but that's not the point. I had the courage, the balls to tell someone how I felt. I am not to this day ashamed of the way I did it, because it was me, the real me. A letter, writing, all the words I knew I'd never find if I was confronting him face to face. So this is why I'm starting my blog again. Because I need to write of all the feelings that I'll never find words for if I try and speak them out loud. Of all the stories I need to share that I can't possibly remember if I don't have somewhere to put them. I need to write, so here we begin again:

So far it's been almost two weeks into 2012 and I already feel my life changing and this being such a good year for me. I turn 20 in less than a month and will be in Canada celebrating with my best friends. In a year I am most definitely going to be in Ireland with a friend that I believe is going to become more like my sister because of this trip. I might be going to Florida in April. The point to all of this is, is that everyone thinks that if you stay in Brattleboro, or the town you grew up in. Never go to school or have those kind of goals you're going to be stuck there working a dead end job. And you know what that does end up being some peoples life. But I'm here to prove that statistic wrong. See, I'm not committed to school right now. I spent what? like 16 years in school, I was exhausted and hated it by the time I was done and when I got to school and sat in my first class I honestly thought what the fuck am I doing here? Sure as I looked out to my right my class room overlooked the beauty that is Lake Champlain and in a lot of way Champlain College is still my dream school and Burlington is still my dream place to live. But not right now. When I came home and started working with the Lyfords and I met Jack, Matthew and Sammy. And got to work those few brief (and hectic, crazy) months with Chole and Zoey I learned so much from these children and this wonderful family who is like all others but on a totally other planet. This family exceeds all measure, has been put to all tests and still proves that love conquers all. I can only dream to have a family this wonderful of my own someday, I can only dream to be as great of a parent as mine have been to me. So willing to accept that I wasn't ready for school, still proud of me, always proud of me their faith in me never falters and they believe I can change the world. The way my dad's jaw drops whenever I read him anything I write. The way my mother beams with pride is more than I can ever ask for. Their unconditional love in me is what is inspiring me to move on. I need to be able to move on from all that I have been hiding myself under these last few years. I have been living in a safety net. Staying close to home and my dog and my parents and I know that I have been doing that these past few years but suddenly I'm not afraid to leave them anymore. I know that I can always come back. I'm ready to be as proud of myself as my parents are of me. I want to travel, and hopefully when I'm done I'll be inspired to go full speed into my schooling and come out a Literary Agent. I have never been so sure in my life that this is what I want to do with it. I have never been so sure I'm going to be an author one day, even if it is one or two books that fail miserably and only the people I know in my small town buy it from our one Local Bookstore because this town takes hella pride in the people that achieve something beyond this level. And somehow that sounds perfect to me. Thinking of being an author, and probably failing sounds good to me. I will have made my town and state proud and there is nothing that I'll be more happy about than that. Because I am so proud of where I'm from I am so happy to be from Brattleboro and everyday I find something new to love about it. I don't ever understand why people hate this place so much, they say it's filled with drama and all these people they can't stand but you know what. I hate every single person I went to high school with (except of course the people I still talk to, you obviously know who you are) and this town is as small as it gets and I'm pretty good at never running into these people. I'm also good at keeping myself away from the drama. If you hate it and these people so much make an effort to avoid it. Otherwise you know deep down you're an attention whore that craves it, too much? Well it's true in some cases. But whatever, these people have a right to their opinion just like I stand by my very first blog where I say that Vermont is the best place to grow up. People vacation here during the summer, fall, winter and spring months. Why? Because you learn to fucking love life here. These mountains that turn lush green, snowy white and burn the colors of red, yellow and orange, make you take a step back and breathe. Relax. The stars at night and the way the full moon is the only light you need makes you realize there's nothing like nature, like living life to your fullest. And that's what I've learned here. That I'm going to do just that and I'm going to get out of here and when I come home will be so moved by the beauty I'll surely forget that I know I'll probably shed a few tears. The beauty of the world amazes me every time I step outdoors, I'm just ready now to let it amaze me all over the world. Starting in Ireland, possibly London and then who knows in the years to come where I'll be and where I'll go.

Here's another thing that I have come to appreciate:
I am suppose to be a broke ass college student. And that might seem strange to say but you know what? It's 100% true. I freak out and have anxiety attacks about the minimal bills I have to pay and the gas I have to have to get from here to there and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. That's life. It's a struggle, money is a problem, why stress? I always seem to make it, with the help of my parents or working extra hours or cleaning like hell around the house to find a few extra quarters. That's life. That's the life of a college student or anyone becoming an adult. It also tends to lead to some great stories. Like going to the cheapest greatest diner a half hour from here to buy a piece of pie and then sit there for hours with the greatest company, stuffing six crackers in your mouth, or eating cinnamon or trying to chug a cup of syrup. Laughing till you have tears in your eyes, running to the bathroom so you don't pee your pants and making great memories from absolutely nothing. Having movie marathons of movies we own and have seen a thousand times. Finding the most random ingredients or types of food in your friends house and just eating all of it. Wasting your money on gas just to go back road driving, on all the roads you have been driving on since you were fifteen. That's the good life. And no money in the world would make me wanna trade this life, honestly and seriously, although it would help if it was offered, but as long as I could keep this life. Just free money, that'd be awesome. But that's all I think I need to remind myself about right now. . . Be a broke ass college student, live life, prove people wrong, travel and don't commit if you don't want to. I don't know why I ever felt like such a failure, sure I had the right too at the time but now I've come out on the other side refreshed, ready to start anew and get this year rolling. It's going to be amazing and every story I'm going to be proud about to share with my kids someday. (How I Met Your Mother phase, except phase isn't a good word because phase is something you grow out of and lets face it when I like something, I LOVE it and obsess over it for the rest of my life. that's just me. :) it's really got me thinking about my life plans and the great stories I want to tell my children about my life. Like their amazing aunts who aren't even my blood sisters but should be. Or their great family or their mother's choices to live a different life and not follow the norm and tell them to do the same, to do whatever they want, live their life and make their own stories. I'm going to love and be proud of them no matter what.

And this is why I write, because it's all the things I'll know I'll forget to say or even possibly forget as my mind makes way for new adventures and stories it might shelve the best ones and make me forget about them. And I don't want to ever forget. So hopefully this blog is around years from now so I can read these to my children, or maybe I'll make every passage into a memoir of my life and read that to them when they're older. Who knows, I don't, and I don't think I want to. I'm just going to let life hit me and I'll take it as it comes, that's the best way to live it right?

Anyways this has literally taken me a week to write and I'm almost positive the stuff I wrote at the beginning makes absolutely no sense anymore. But I'm gonna keep it. So here we are. My first blog in over a year. Feels pretty good.

With all my love,
CassidyDoris<3

PS Sorry about the title, it can't be explained. Gentlements agreement. HUZZAH!