Blah- Blah-Blah-Emotional Baggage and Rambling are Extremely Exhausting

It doesn't feel like time for a new year. I'll be brutally honest and say it's not fair to let the new year be now, after all I got cheated on last year. What did I get to do last year besides fight to live? And be forced to learn life lessons that I already know I have refused to absorb? I know this is insulting to all the people that have helped me along the way, but I can't even be thankful anymore. It's like my shadow has swooped in, covered the good girl up, dug her a hole in the forest to sit in, and is letting that good girl, who had a heart of gold, who wanted to do the old 'save the world' cliche. And that hole keeps getting deeper, closer to the center of the earth, making her sweaty, worried and extremely agitated. I've lost her, she's almost all burned, and I feel like I'm losing one of my souls. Like the Japanese warriors and their families believe, a person cannot be healthy or fully healed unless all their souls reside within that one physical body. So what am I supposed to do, especially when it feels like I've almost lost a soul, and I'm not even close to being healed?

The clock has ticked for almost a year now, and all I feel like I've done is lost mentally and emotionally, especially physically. I find it so tiring somedays to cry, it seems easier to tilt my head to look to the sky and let the tears seep back in, that way I'm guarenteed not to feel the burning on my face and I won't have purple bags underneath my eyes. I recognize it's not healthy to hold things back, emotions I mean, but all I've been doing lately is being emotional. I've done it for a year and I'm not only tired of it I'm bored of it. It's not like me, and it isn't providing any benefits at all.

I know as it gets closer and closer to the day, that day my life changed, that the law of attraction theory got the better of me, I'll catch myself saying it more and more. I can't do it anymore seems to ring and bounce around my head and triple each time it rikochets off my skull. That's the other thing, my skull. It still has the indent, the divet that now derives me as imperfect. I rarely recognize myself anymore, when I look in the mirror(which isn't often), all I see that I know are lips that have never been kissed, and eyes that seem to be shrinking, like they've lost site of their goal. My body doesn't feel like it's mine anymore, and because of that my mind only seems to get to speek when I write things like this. The rest of the time it seems like the shadow I mentioned earlier is processing and spitting out these horrible thoughts that I know aren't mine but I can't shut them off. It won't let me carry on in a day unless it has made it's point which generally means pissing me off or making me cry. The force behind it is so strong, but I know I have to push through it.

And by pushing through it that may meen these things:
1) Getting into school for me, not leting Moms' constant nagging about it drive me the other direction; knowing that it is immature to rebel this way
2) telling Mom this
3) Telling Mom that I may have been reduced to the age of a three year old or less physically, but my brain is still 18, and that because I've been through many of the things that she has I am strong, I just have to live my life by my rules, not hers. Telling her it is degrading that she treats me this way, and doesn't help that shadow disappear, it just makes it worse.
4) Telling Dad he can love me, but letting him know when he's crossed the line.
5) Sitting down with Mom and Dad, tell them about what they say to me about eachother, when the other isn't around; because those aren't my issues, its not my marriage, my role is the daughter and its taking enough energy to figure myself out right now, so I can't carry them on my shoulders too.
6) Maybe leaving, because home isn't home anymore, going to a hospital isn't an option as far as getting on with my life, and hiding in a friends house or hotel isn't an option, especially with all the shit I now have to lug around and the wheels and motor under my ass.
7) Being realistic about being a night hawk. Knowing it isn't going to get me anywhere
8) Being realistic about blogging; it may be a release, an immense help; but is it responsible? Or do I dare question it and its magic way of making me feel relieved?

All I can say for tonight is that this truly feels like the first blogg in a long time that allowed me to breathe, and for those readers after this blogg, BEWARE The Mel Mind.