Point @ MindSay

I thought i hit rock bottom 9 months ago when i got sober. Soon after amazing things started to happen, found an organization that helps people in recovery getting back to school. My counselor sent me to an evaluation where they diagnosed me with chemical dependency and depression, a vocational test, where the advisor told me that he only saw 1 other guy performing like me during his 20 years there, job shadows, etc etc... after all this they said i would qualify basically for a free ride in college. Whatever the federal aid wouldn't cover, they will ! My dream was coming true... then a few weeks ago everything came crashing down. I wouldn't qualify for anything, because I'm not a citizen. Or more precisely, undocumented ? That's the trendy word for it....

The last few weeks I could barely get out of bed, as i wake up i get disgusted and disappointed that i'm still in this world, and try to sleep as much as i can to get away. Funny thing is that recovery actually works, now i absolutely don't have a desire to get fucked up, it would make me feel better only for a few hours, then misery again. Suicide looks much more attractive, but so far the only thing i did i mapquested the nearest local gun store. Every day, by the time i'd be ready to get in the car and go there, i feel just a tiny bit better and i think "ok i'll go tomorrow".
So i think this is the time when i'm REALLY sobering up. Putting down the stuff wasn't that hard. Facing the reality, having no job, no health insurance, can't go to school, basically no rights to be here, no hope, no one to stand beside me, that's the real sobering experience. I have nothing and no one in the "old country", just came here to get away from a fucked up family in a fucked up environment where being gay is just not an "option".

Sobering experience is when I see the people in our neighborhood, drunk and high, collecting welfare, living for absolutely free, fighting, stealing cars right in front of me, and knowing that if THEY wanted a degree, a second chance, the government would pay every penny of it. And here i am, working hard, paying taxes for more than a decade, up until i lost my job, and right now running out of options very quicly.

My message is to all of you people, complaining about how hard your life is, that help is all around you. You have no fucking idea how many organizations, people, counselors, government agencies, fundations are ready to help you absolutely free if you wanted a second chance (provided you're legally here). All you need to do is really WANT that second chance, do a little research, and things will basically fall into your lap. Believe me, people in my situation would give anything for an opportunity like that.

 No disrespect to anyone. Whoever you are, the rich high school kid in a Lifetime movie-like environment, fighting depression, or the homeless guy with the bottle, with multiple addictions, i feel for you all. I've been there. We're all human beings and none of us is more important than the other. Mental hell and torture is the same for everyone, regardless of their situation. My only advice is, if someone is trying to help you, don't turn your back. You're not a smaller person if you grab the helping hand. Accepting help takes more guts than rejecting it. "Grab the opportunity, for it may never return."

I should be more grateful myself. There is people right now suffering from AIDS, having no food or shelter, living (or dying) near some trash dump, forgotten, with absolutely no hope that anyone will ever help them.

Hope is a bitch. Hope probably saved millions of people from suicide. It saved me quite a few times, for the better or worse, i don't know. Maybe the hope of a better new year saved me today.

Anyways. Have some gratitude. Get help. Happy New year.



  



     


 
  
 

Right now I need to reach a point of mental stability after what's been happening recently.

I need to reach a point in which I'm fine with the idea that she may never be available to me again. I guess I have myself to blame, however, due to my own actions. I could've had her safely and securely in my grasp, but due to my own arrogance and foolishness, I have not only placed myself in a situation I despise, I must learn to cope with it as it is the only option besides not getting out of bed in the morning.

I want.

What does it matter what I want? Maybe I should focus on what she wants. I'm not even sure what she wants, but I'm sure she'll act in accordance to what she does want, even if I don't know what it is.

I want her to do what she wants.

That's what I want.

So I figured since nobody uses mindsay anymore that posting here would be argumentatively the same as a personal expression of thought like for example a diary. and for a second I doubt myself thinking " Tony you dumbass nobody keeps a diary anymore these days..." but after I think about it I wonder how much of that is true. I mean my whole life if I heard the word diary I would have laughed and thought it was silly. I think of a young teenage girl pouring out her emotions about her boyfriend, or the fight she’s having with her best friend. and I think its safe to say the whole concept of having a diary is much more reasonable and acceptable if the keeper is a female.

 

To be honest if one of my friends from the football team a.k.a the "pain train" were to admit during team dinner that he wrote in a diary each day it probably would have been followed by an awkward moment of silence and a quick change of subject by a watchful teammate attempting to dampen the embarrassment.. The night would have gone on like nothing ever happened. but maybe that’s not the end of the story.

 

Maybe that boy was still embarrassed at himself now. maybe there was a sick feeling in his stomach at how much time he had wasted with his silly childish diary. maybe he would throw it away or even burn it, discarding every record of his history and how he has felt as though it was a sickness. like it was holding him back. when the truth is that book full of paper was the only written proof that he existed. that he was more than just a name.

 

After thinking about it for a while I determined that even though I have never kept a "diary" or any form of documentation to represent my feelings... I cannot deny that I have questioned myself in other ways besides literature. Several times I have asked myself who I am. what I believe in. what I stand for, and so forth. Each time the answer I come up with was slightly, but not dramatically different. I will keep the details quiet because this is surely not a diary, and I have no reason to express my internal feelings. I am simply taking a little time to explore this lovely place I live in from a broader perspective.

 

My conclusion tonight came surprisingly quickly. my poor fingers could never dream of typing anywhere close to as fast as I think., when I actually take a little bit of time out of my day to do so..[2:44 am] .

Nevertheless I decided that every good thing I have done in my life followed a decision. Every choice I ever made had a ending. every cause had an effect. every night had a dawn. and every day had a new opportunity for me to do something great. this is what disappoints me because from my point of view I have not done anything great. I’ve only done good. clearly, this is what I started thinking about some days ago. and it might not make any since to the 2 or 3 people who might actually take their time and read it. however this is my general, non personal beginning, of a story that I can't tell. I cannot simply because I don’t know the ending.

 

 

P.S. ... my intention was to write a blog about the crazy dreams I’ve been having and the spooky windy noise and the anonymous postcard that brought me to writing this "broad perspective" today.. but I have reasons for not continuing thins rant. one because I ran out of time [3:02am] and another because this is once again, surely not a diary and I have no reason to express my personal thoughts literally, however if anybody was actually interested in my story [ doubtful because if I was talking to anybody I probably wouldn’t be on mindsay in the first place] can feel free to start a conversation, which could be considered an excuse for discussing personal things.

My voice is tired
I can barely speak a whisper these words
We clear our minds
And these broken bottles and glasses
Heal our lives.
So drinks to the skies
and blood to your eyes
This rooftop is understanding
So swallow your pride, or choke till you die
Cause this fall's unforgiving
So call on your angels
To get your fall tonight
And I'll crawl on my hands
Pouring out my insides.

I'll wait for you
Hoping to change your mind
Hoping's all I can do.

These days are tired and the nights are overwhelming
As we spoke through silence
A routine silence, with nothing more to say
So drinks to the skies
And blood to your eyes
I'll be understanding
Tonight
I'll understand everything tonight.

I'll wait for you
Hoping to change your mind
Hoping's all I can do.

So I'll wait for you
Hoping to change your mind.
Hoping's all I can do.

And I'm dying because your leaving
Hopes abandoned, my heart's still beating
But I never gave up trying
I did everything for you
I did everything

So I'll wait for you
Hoping to change your mind.
I'll wait for you.

Iv been soo happy ever since Ryan started to talk to me again!!!! Omfg when we were talking he said that he remembers the first night we met. He stayed at my house that night to go to High Point with me the next day. We stayed up all night. He was saying to me today about wha he was thinking about when he was over at me house. I asked him what he was thinking about and he said "do you remember when we were sleeping in the same bed?" and i did remember and i said yes. then he said "well umm yeah." I was so shocked when he said that! My friend (his sister) thinks that we are going to start to go out again. I kind of do hope so. I would love to have him over again. Byt right now we are just friends.