Alright so let me tell you something. Buddha once said the three things that can not be long hidden are the moon, the sun, and the truth. As right as I think that statement is, there is one more thing that I believe can't be hidden, or denied, for long, and that's family.
'Nuff said.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Oh so deep.
So, as you may know if you are a student at LHS, or probably any school in the district, something very tragic took place over the weekend. A teacher at the school I attend, Mrs. Burrow, took her own life this Saturday. It was a shock to almost everyone who knew her and for the rest of us it was a lesson in class.
I, myself, had never really met her except for once very briefly back in September. Though, I have already witnessed how it affected two people who were close to her. They happen to be my sister and one of my teachers.
My English teacher, who happened to be going over Romeo and Juliet (which as you probably know includes suicide) with us for the past few weeks, talked about it today. Most of while she was talking, it looked like she was about to burst into tears. She went on about how she and Mrs. Burrow were really close and it was so out of character for her. She said how suicide was 'a permanent solution for a temporary problem'; it was a bit ironic since she had been telling us that same line over and over again all through Romeo and Juliet. I honestly have no plausible idea how I would be able to just show up at work and carry myself so well as my English teacher did so early after one of her friends committed suicide. I have to say, as much as I hate to admit it, my respect for her went up a lot today.
My sister, who had her as a teacher last year, took it pretty hard. I don't know exactly how she reacted, but I do know that Mrs. Burrow was the teacher who made my sister want to teach English. Really that's all I know about their relationship, but it must feeling horrible to have someone who you look up to like that do something so horrible.
As I said, I didn't know her, but I have had a lot of friends who've thought about suicide, and one who got really close to it. Thankfully, all of those that I know never succeeded; I wish I could say the same for every other person who's ever chose to end their life though.
One of my friends, who I used to be extremely close with, tried several times to kill herself. Its pretty sad to say that a majority of the three years I've known her, she's probably been in a hospital somewhere, trying to recover. Every time she got back in town though, she'd call me, and we'd both cry and I would tell her never to scare me like that again, she would promise me that she was completely better, and I would try to believe her. It never lasted long though. Maybe two weeks later she'd call me crying (we seemed to cry together a lot) and confess how she had been cutting herself again, or how she had just taken drugs, or something along those lines. I would cry for hours for her, I would be so scared for the person who had been the first person to befriend me in middle school.
I seemed to take over the roll of her mother sometime between sixth and eighth grade. I can even remember her coming over to my house and showing me all her scars, all over her arms, legs, and stomach, and I said nothing about how wrong it was for her to be doing that. I was worried about her getting an infection. An infection. While our friend Meaghan was sitting there practically yelling at her for being so stupid, I was applying peroxide to every single cut and scar and told her to let me know if it was starting to sting. Looking back at it, I can't even believe I was like that, I acted like I was okay with the fact that over 50% of her body was cut. I wasn't though.
The worst part of this story, to me at least, was the circumstance of her self-injury. As far as I know, there were none. Or, maybe the worst part was the fact that every piece of information she had fed me about her past, about why she was so messed up, was a lie. She had told me her mother tried to kill her, that she had been raped, that she went without food for weeks when her family was out of money. Not a bit of it was true. I was so gullible back then. I believed every thing she told me, no matter how crazy or insane, I liked to believe that every person deserved trust. I'd like to believe, now, that she's the reason I can't trust a single person anymore, because when you trust someone with your entire life and you expect the same, and that entire life you thought they had trusted in you had been false, it kinda leaves you messed up.
In case you're wondering, at the moment she's out of the hospital, we don't talk anymore, and I'd like to keep it that way. I'm done wasting my nights crying over a fictional sob story of a friend.
And, if you're wondering about this too, she still isn't better.
I, myself, had never really met her except for once very briefly back in September. Though, I have already witnessed how it affected two people who were close to her. They happen to be my sister and one of my teachers.
My English teacher, who happened to be going over Romeo and Juliet (which as you probably know includes suicide) with us for the past few weeks, talked about it today. Most of while she was talking, it looked like she was about to burst into tears. She went on about how she and Mrs. Burrow were really close and it was so out of character for her. She said how suicide was 'a permanent solution for a temporary problem'; it was a bit ironic since she had been telling us that same line over and over again all through Romeo and Juliet. I honestly have no plausible idea how I would be able to just show up at work and carry myself so well as my English teacher did so early after one of her friends committed suicide. I have to say, as much as I hate to admit it, my respect for her went up a lot today.
My sister, who had her as a teacher last year, took it pretty hard. I don't know exactly how she reacted, but I do know that Mrs. Burrow was the teacher who made my sister want to teach English. Really that's all I know about their relationship, but it must feeling horrible to have someone who you look up to like that do something so horrible.
As I said, I didn't know her, but I have had a lot of friends who've thought about suicide, and one who got really close to it. Thankfully, all of those that I know never succeeded; I wish I could say the same for every other person who's ever chose to end their life though.
One of my friends, who I used to be extremely close with, tried several times to kill herself. Its pretty sad to say that a majority of the three years I've known her, she's probably been in a hospital somewhere, trying to recover. Every time she got back in town though, she'd call me, and we'd both cry and I would tell her never to scare me like that again, she would promise me that she was completely better, and I would try to believe her. It never lasted long though. Maybe two weeks later she'd call me crying (we seemed to cry together a lot) and confess how she had been cutting herself again, or how she had just taken drugs, or something along those lines. I would cry for hours for her, I would be so scared for the person who had been the first person to befriend me in middle school.
I seemed to take over the roll of her mother sometime between sixth and eighth grade. I can even remember her coming over to my house and showing me all her scars, all over her arms, legs, and stomach, and I said nothing about how wrong it was for her to be doing that. I was worried about her getting an infection. An infection. While our friend Meaghan was sitting there practically yelling at her for being so stupid, I was applying peroxide to every single cut and scar and told her to let me know if it was starting to sting. Looking back at it, I can't even believe I was like that, I acted like I was okay with the fact that over 50% of her body was cut. I wasn't though.
The worst part of this story, to me at least, was the circumstance of her self-injury. As far as I know, there were none. Or, maybe the worst part was the fact that every piece of information she had fed me about her past, about why she was so messed up, was a lie. She had told me her mother tried to kill her, that she had been raped, that she went without food for weeks when her family was out of money. Not a bit of it was true. I was so gullible back then. I believed every thing she told me, no matter how crazy or insane, I liked to believe that every person deserved trust. I'd like to believe, now, that she's the reason I can't trust a single person anymore, because when you trust someone with your entire life and you expect the same, and that entire life you thought they had trusted in you had been false, it kinda leaves you messed up.
In case you're wondering, at the moment she's out of the hospital, we don't talk anymore, and I'd like to keep it that way. I'm done wasting my nights crying over a fictional sob story of a friend.
And, if you're wondering about this too, she still isn't better.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Lalala -sentimental crap-
Sometimes an event can see mlike the end of your life one day, and the next iday it seems like the best thing that could've happened to you.
One of those blessing in disguise things? Ialways thought those were fiction. Something invented by a clever author to add a little extra spunk to the end of one their coming-of-age type novels. Heh, well, if ever such a cheesey thing did exsist, I'm sure that's what I experienced the past two days.
*Let's start from the beggining shall we?*
One thing you should know about me, I take my anger out on myself. Not in the bodily harm kind of way though, more in the 'I'm super pissed right now, I think I'll chop off some of my hair' kind of way. And that's just what I did. At the start though, I didn't intend to give myself a Beatles-like mop-topped look.... it just sort of happened that way?
So anyway, a hairstyle I was hoping would come out sort of Lady Gaga-esque came out as more of Ringo Starr. And I wasn't pleased, but of course there's no one to blame but myself.
School today, wasn't the best experience. Especially since I spent all morning fixing an adorable headband in my hair just to have a douchey Principal-man tell me it was against dress code right before first hour. /: C'est la vie?
So, I spent my day with my palm pressed against my dorky bangs and wishing I could just disappear.
But, there's a happy ending to this anecdote, I hope!
Tomorrow, my lovely friend Yazzy has offered to fix my bowl cut bangs in the bathrooms at lunch. And sometime between 8pm and 10pm this evening I gained some DGAF confidence, and decided I really couldn't give a flying flip if people don't like my hair. Besides, it'll be over by 11:15am tomorrow morning.
-Wow, this whole blog seems a bit pointless by this point... resisting the urge to hit the erase button until every word disappears.-
So, how was that waste of space a blessing in disguise? I gained an assload of confidence having to face all my peers for an entire school day. So suck it.
Also, random thought here, I spent all lot of that time I was thinking on my life thus far, and I have to say I'm pretty pleased with all of my decisions. Even the hair cutting one. xD One decision I'm glad I've made is my religion. I'm a Buddhist, as you may or may not know. And ever since I've been one, I've been feeling great about my life. Unlike when I was a Christian, which is pretty much spending your entire life trying to live up to some standards that are supposedly 'perfect', I spend my life trying to live up to standards that I want to live up too.
Two very contrasting differences in Christianity and Buddhism, is one is following a strict list of can's and can't's, and ultimately either you go to Heaven or Hell. It's all black or white there. Almost like they expect to either be perfect or a complete mess, and as every person well knows, perfection is a never ending journey. Whereas, while following Buddhism, is much more... relaxed (for lack of a better word). You on stive to find inner peace, which is only trying to make yourself as happy as possible, not some superior being, whom may or may not exsist. And I have to say, at this moment in time, I am at inner peace.
One of those blessing in disguise things? Ialways thought those were fiction. Something invented by a clever author to add a little extra spunk to the end of one their coming-of-age type novels. Heh, well, if ever such a cheesey thing did exsist, I'm sure that's what I experienced the past two days.
*Let's start from the beggining shall we?*
One thing you should know about me, I take my anger out on myself. Not in the bodily harm kind of way though, more in the 'I'm super pissed right now, I think I'll chop off some of my hair' kind of way. And that's just what I did. At the start though, I didn't intend to give myself a Beatles-like mop-topped look.... it just sort of happened that way?
So anyway, a hairstyle I was hoping would come out sort of Lady Gaga-esque came out as more of Ringo Starr. And I wasn't pleased, but of course there's no one to blame but myself.
School today, wasn't the best experience. Especially since I spent all morning fixing an adorable headband in my hair just to have a douchey Principal-man tell me it was against dress code right before first hour. /: C'est la vie?
So, I spent my day with my palm pressed against my dorky bangs and wishing I could just disappear.
But, there's a happy ending to this anecdote, I hope!
Tomorrow, my lovely friend Yazzy has offered to fix my bowl cut bangs in the bathrooms at lunch. And sometime between 8pm and 10pm this evening I gained some DGAF confidence, and decided I really couldn't give a flying flip if people don't like my hair. Besides, it'll be over by 11:15am tomorrow morning.
-Wow, this whole blog seems a bit pointless by this point... resisting the urge to hit the erase button until every word disappears.-
So, how was that waste of space a blessing in disguise? I gained an assload of confidence having to face all my peers for an entire school day. So suck it.
Also, random thought here, I spent all lot of that time I was thinking on my life thus far, and I have to say I'm pretty pleased with all of my decisions. Even the hair cutting one. xD One decision I'm glad I've made is my religion. I'm a Buddhist, as you may or may not know. And ever since I've been one, I've been feeling great about my life. Unlike when I was a Christian, which is pretty much spending your entire life trying to live up to some standards that are supposedly 'perfect', I spend my life trying to live up to standards that I want to live up too.
Two very contrasting differences in Christianity and Buddhism, is one is following a strict list of can's and can't's, and ultimately either you go to Heaven or Hell. It's all black or white there. Almost like they expect to either be perfect or a complete mess, and as every person well knows, perfection is a never ending journey. Whereas, while following Buddhism, is much more... relaxed (for lack of a better word). You on stive to find inner peace, which is only trying to make yourself as happy as possible, not some superior being, whom may or may not exsist. And I have to say, at this moment in time, I am at inner peace.
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