Waiting

It won't be long now.
I pretty much know I will be hospitalized at some point this year. I don't know when. And I was hoping that it would at least be after I graduate college, but I really can't say for sure. I can't predict when my ultimate meltdown is going to occur, but it will. The bottom line is I don't feel sane in any way, shape, or form.
When waking up in the morning is the hardest part of your day, you know you have a problem. Every time I wake up, I snap back into "reality" and the realization of how horrible my life is. Some days I literally cannot get out of bed. Some days, I painfully awaken and go about my day with all of my joints, muscles and ribs hurting. To my slight relief, the counselors told me that these physical pains are actually a part of grief. Your immune system shuts down and your body believes that it is physically sick when you are grieving, which is why I've been feeling horribly lethargic. I say I was only slightly relieved because I know the grief process can take years, and living with this kind of physical pain is 'no bueno'.
Anyway, in regards to my sanity...Nothing feels real to me. This has actually been happening to me on and off for about a year, but now, it's almost as if it's confirmed that life isn't real at all. I feel like I'm in an alternate universe...more specifically, a Hell or purgatory type place with other people who are being punished. I know it sounds crazy, but every time I would get high, I would feel this same phenomenon and it was NOT pleasant, which is why I stopped. But now, I'm stuck. For however long my life goes on, I'm stuck with these "unreal" feelings. Sometimes, I literally cannot differentiate between dreaming and reality. My dreams are so vivid, and actually feel more like reality than reality does. Like on Sunday...I was crying literally ALL day because I was sad, and felt like I was stuck inside a bad dream, but apparently I was awake.
I HATE being sober. I absolutely Hate it.
Nowadays I feel more myself when drinking than when not. Now I'm this boring-ass shell of a person with no emotions except those felt towards my loss, but when I drink, I feel more like the person that I used to be. Fun, and "Happy".
But I wrote this entry mainly to talk about institutionalization. I know how the whole deal works, I've gone through it before as a minor, but I guess a part of me is afraid to go back into the system as an adult. I'm not ashamed at all, because I know I need that extra help, it's just difficult to get back into a system of such stigmatized and wrongly judged mentally ill people... especially when society seems to tell us that you have to be a crackhead with missing teeth to be "eligible" for mental health help. But hey, it happens to every day people too...This crudely formatted diagram should help explain what I mean:

                                                  How My Friends See Me

 
                                                 How the Men-folk See Me

                                                          How I See Myself

-Webpups
[Just because you don't see my pain, doesn't mean it's not there]

I'm Scared.

I'm scared.
Scared to go to bed at night because I know the night terrors could randomly come back at any time.
Scared to wake up in the morning because that's when the depression is the worst, due to the realization that I am once again conscious, and living in the same sick and depressing state that I went to bed to.
But mostly I am scared of assimilating back into society. Going back to school, finding another job etc....
I'm scared of going back to L.A...In such a fast paced environment, I know I am going to be mentally and emotionally 'run over' and left in the dust. There's no time for mourning in L.A. Just like there's no crying in football.
Especially considering that I am trying to become a famous actress and all that jazz...it would really require me getting right on the grind, going back to memorizing lines, calling hella numbers, getting to auditions...I just don't know if I can do that right now...
School may be a BIT easier, because at least I'll be surrounded by intellectuals, for the most part. [Man, nothing grinds my gears more than ignorant people, and they exist in college too]. But yes, I only have class 2 days out of the week this semester, and a lab on Fridays, I think I can manage.
I'm more concerned about the more specific social aspects of integrating back into society. Such as speech, behavior, acceptance... Which is weird, because this whole ordeal has led me to virtually not give a FUCK about anything, but for some reason, thinking about returning to L.A. really bothers me.
I have changed.
My attitude, my way of life, my sleep habits, even the way I dress has been dramatically altered by this life-changing experience [I think I now look like a lesbian biker if you ask me]. Hell, if cigarettes didn't disgust the fuck out of me, I'd probably turn into one of those girls on Tumblr who takes black and white nudey photos of herself smoking.

Yeah, I've turned into THOSE types. The overly [mentally] introverted and philosophical wino kids you see hanging out in Berkeley, wearing rags for clothing. I don't smile very much anymore...or laugh, unless I am with a very specific group of people. And I know that L.A. is the "you must smile and appear mentally stable at all times" capital of the world, so it frightens me that I may be involuntarily forced to be fake, or to "cheer up" to make other people happy. To be honest, I wish people would stop expecting me to be OK, because frankly, I'm not OK, and I won't be OK. That's just the way it is.
I am growing accustomed to the person that I have become. I told myself a few months ago that if my mom died, I would probably become a super shitty person. Probably strung out in the street on drugs or something. Well, it's obviously not at that point, nor do I think I'm a SHITTY person, per se. But I will admit that I have become a bit selfish, squeezing the little taste of joy I can get out of life, without necessarily thinking [or caring] about the consequences. I have begun treating the world the way I feel that it has treated me, and thus far, for the most part, it has worked to my advantage and kept me afloat in situations where I would have otherwise whined like a little bitch. Speaking of bitch, to be blunt, you could say that I've become one. But then again, I've always been kind of a bitch. Not like the rude, ignorant kind of bitch, but like a Regina George bitch. The kind of bitch you want to have around because she makes funny comments about ratchet hoes. But then again, that's probably just because I'm from Nor Cal and that blunt mentality has been ingrained in me. Anywho, I've also become a more "grungy" person, in the sense that I wake up at like 2pm, do nothing until like 9, then go out and get fucking trashed at the bars. To be fair, that is partially due to the fact that I just turned 21, but I am clearly drinking copious amounts of alcohol for a reason.
Lastly, I am scared to love.
Everyone I have ever truly loved has left me at some point, whether voluntarily or involuntarily. My mom's gone, my dad bailed when I was 11 (then came back when I was almost 18, wtf) and almost every boyfriend I've ever had has been long distance or moved away. My doggy Max is about 13 years old now, and I am going to be absolutely devastated when the time comes for him to go, though I know it's a more natural process than everything else that's been happening in my life. I just don't do too well with change. I'm terrified to get super close to anyone because I know the second I begin to love them, they will be gone in a flash, happens every time. But don't get me wrong, I am not bitter about being single or anything like that. Having a boyfriend would significantly stifle my style and the new 'baddassery' that I am going for. It just kind of sucks that no one's gonna want me now because I'm a broken little girl with daddy issues and problems for days. "Damaged goods" to quote a previous asshole.

-Webpups

[Totes didn't mean to post this on Valentine's Day. Just kind of happened. Deal.] 

Mediocre Introduction

Mediocre Introduction: 
For the sake of this blog, I will go by the name of Webpups, another story in itself.
I am a notoriously zealous Disney fanatic as well as wannabe actress, model, blablabla.
That side of me is not really relevant for this blog.

Why I created this blog:
A year ago I was probably the most anti-multiple-social-networking-accounts person ever.
Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr...it's all too much to keep up with. But then I realized that these different sites exist for different mediums of communication and different "moods", if that makes sense. I say things on Twitter that I wouldn't necessarily say on Facebook, and vice versa. My attempt at forming a creative internet outlet for myself started late 2011 when I created a Tumblr account, but that site was NOT what I expected. I thought it was more of a blogging site, but it's really more of a photo-sharing (sometimes inspirational) website. That is NOT what I was looking for at the time, so I ended up giving up on that endeavor and just making it into a Disney fan page.
I created this blog so I can really get into the "nitty gritty". This blog is going to expose a side of me that not many people have seen, or wish to see. For the most part, it's not going to be pretty, but it IS going to be REAL.
It's time that people saw the real me; not that the happy, Disney loving side isn't still me. But it's only a PART. People have layers, and often friends and family (and even strangers) are too afraid to delve deeper and see the layers that are under a person's happy exterior. Or in some cases, see them, but won't accept them.
I am at a place in my life where I just don't give a fuck anymore. In the past year, I've really had a new perception of what matters in life, and also, the significance of life itself. This blog is mainly meant to address topics that are serious to me including religion, mental health, depression, suicide, life, death, drugs, alcohol and anything else that people are too afraid to talk about. I will also, obviously include my newer opinions on life following the death of my mom 3 weeks ago.

Goal:
I'm not expecting any particular response to my blogs, or any particular reaction/emotion. I don't expect sympathy. I don't want attention. I'm just here to put some truth and realism out there and hopefully allow people to have a more clear understanding of what I have been going through since I was 11 years old, and what countless other people go through every day. This isn't a diary/journal, I have one of those and it's a much different format. This is me putting my words and thoughts into a form that, hopefully, other readers can palate. But if you don't like my blogs, don't read them. I don't need cynicism, which is why I created this site instead of posting these serious thoughts in a Facebook note. People don't tend to take Facebook very seriously when it comes to intelligent conversation...

Anywho, that is my introduction. I am sure within the coming weeks I will have some tantalizing, thought provoking and pessimistic content for whomever wishes to partake in it.

-Webpups
(The Mythical Creature)