tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36796059378548359382024-02-19T15:36:13.073+10:30The Diary of a Psychiatrists Nightmare... ♥StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.comBlogger359125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-42377076903290408012013-04-14T03:00:00.001+09:302013-04-14T03:00:41.317+09:30_4/13/2013 6:30:34 PM_<div dir='ltr'><span><a href="http://www.residencialcalzadilla.com/gqztkji/qnddhl20jsd32wf0sehb.7kl69llyfg8uyytxs9k?ve8ujin7vrb00x6tg">http://www.residencialcalzadilla.com/gqztkji/qnddhl20jsd32wf0sehb.7kl69llyfg8uyytxs9k?ve8ujin7vrb00x6tg</a></span> <br><br><br> 4/13/2013 6:30:34 PM <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>---<br> </div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-64355687809585781472012-10-01T10:26:00.001+09:302012-10-01T10:26:16.405+09:30<div dir='ltr'><a href='http://www.polestarmachinery.com/blog/wp-content/plugins/google.html?fs=ge.sxfs&himoj=onnm.hkml&gwyj=awby'>http://www.polestarmachinery.com/blog/wp-content/plugins/google.html?fs=ge.sxfs&himoj=onnm.hkml&gwyj=awby</a><br> </div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-86296954462925594462010-08-17T22:31:00.001+09:302010-08-17T22:31:59.850+09:30New EmailHi everyone.<div><br></div><div>Just letting you all know I have a new email address. (and this is it if you didn't catch that :P) </div><div><br></div><div>Have a good night,</div><div>Leish.</div> StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-61745642802162786572010-06-16T23:39:00.001+09:302010-06-16T23:40:13.406+09:30So I Guess This Is Goodbye.I need a fresh start. A clean slate. Need to start over.<div><br /></div><div>So.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can find my new blog at <a href="http://lisforleish.blogspot.com/">http://lisforleish.blogspot.com/</a></div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-7584338981676339612010-06-16T16:34:00.002+09:302010-06-16T16:37:56.096+09:30Secret love, my escape, take me far,, far away... please take me anywhere but here...I love the way that a good day can be ruined so easily...<div><br /></div><div>Or maybe it's just me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I am actually incapable of just... being happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>It hurts that nobody hears what I say.</div><div><br /></div><div>It hurts that you can walk straight past me and not notice.</div><div><br /></div><div>It hurts that you don't care. </div><div><br /></div><div>It hurts that you didn't notice.</div><div><br /></div><div>It hurts that you never notice.</div><div><br /></div><div>It hurts that I can't brush it off and get over it like anyone else could.</div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-72302283250726908952010-06-08T23:04:00.002+09:302010-06-08T23:11:57.942+09:30i'm only gonna break break your break break your heart...No.<div><br /></div><div>I do not think i'm better than you because I've been in my relationship for longer than you've been in yours.</div><div><br /></div><div>No.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do not think it's a pitiful effort.</div><div><br /></div><div>Shit takes time.</div><div><br /></div><div>For fuck sake.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can't just skip ahead until you reach the three year point!</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't attack me because you haven't been together for as long as me and him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't shit stir.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't come and whine and me because I'm all 'superior' because of the length of my relationship.</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you think it's been easy?</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you think it's been a complete and utter walk in the fucking park?!</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't come and whine to me when he doesn't speak to you for an hour.</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you know how often I can go weeks, months even, without *seeing* him?</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you know how often we just *don't* talk because we're both too busy with the shit that this year brings?</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't attack me for keeping my relationship going.</div><div><br /></div><div>He's the most important thing in the world to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course I'm going to do everything I can to keep him.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course I'm going to fight for my relationship.</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course I'm going to be upset when things are going wrong or the world gets in the way of what I'd *want* to happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>But it doesn't give you the right to accuse me of being up myself and acting as though I am superior because of the length of my relationship. </div><div><br /></div><div>So why don't you fuck off.</div><div><br /></div><div>And get out of my life.</div><div><br /></div><div>And leave us alone.</div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-50150989594811468972010-05-28T12:22:00.001+09:302010-05-28T12:23:15.130+09:30cos you remind me of a time when we were so alive... do you remember that?<span style="font-size:78%;">do you remember that...?</span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-72488476012202010732010-05-28T00:51:00.002+09:302010-05-28T00:55:46.200+09:30a little walk down memory lane...you make me want to scream.<div>you make me want to hurl myself at a wall.</div><div>you make me want to punch someone.</div><div>you make me want to change.</div><div>you make me want to be better.</div><div>you make me feel worse.</div><div>you make me hurt.</div><div>you make me smile.</div><div>you make me break down my barriers.</div><div>you make me build more up.</div><div>you make me want to eat small children.</div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-64828677696047602452010-05-27T23:14:00.003+09:302010-05-27T23:19:35.696+09:30you're not a judge but if you want to judge me, sentence me to another life...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">i want to explain how much this hurts me but i cant. i know you dont know whats happening. i know you have no idea that nothing is wrong. but... you dont ask... so you dont know...</span></span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-87191017809364709132010-05-21T17:13:00.002+09:302010-05-21T18:49:35.913+09:30withoutyoui'llbemiserableatbest...<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLeisha%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLeisha%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CLeisha%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> 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</style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin-top:0cm; mso-para-margin-right:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; mso-para-margin-left:0cm; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear So and So...</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I lied. And I don’t plan to *EVER* tell you the truth.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is sorry for the last time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I would run away with you, if you asked me to... You make me feel like I’m meaningful, and worth something. Please, let’s just run away...</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I'm seventeen and I've had something like insomnia for a few years now. I think it's because everytime I close my eyes I think of death, and it scares me.</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>You've kinda become the biggest two-faced person ever...</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>I miss you</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">When you ask me what I wished for at 11.11 I lie.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I'm insecure and have low self-esteem. But I'm sure you realise this.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes I wonder if everything you are is a lie. But then maybe I'm a lie too...</p><p class="MsoNormal">You said you aren't going to change. You said you'll always be there for me. But I'm scared that you'll forget me. I'm proud of you, but I'm scared to lose you.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I hate myself for allowing myself to become fat, ugly and a failure. It only proves you were right. And that makes it all my fault.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">You called me the 'therapist' of the group. I don't know if you realise it hurts that you expect me to be there for you when you've never been there for me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">When I think about the future, I can't really see myself getting old... I wonder if this means I'm going to die young.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I write journals, with all of my deepest thoughts and feelings... Part of me almost wishes my parents will find it so that they can see what they're doing to me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I can tell, just by looking at you, when you've been talking about me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I always prepare myself for the worst, so that I'm not disappointed when the best doesn't come my way.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The older I get, the more doubts and fears I have. I always thought it would be the opposite.</p><p class="MsoNormal">You made me this way...</p><p class="MsoNormal">I have suffered through things you wouldn't even realise. And yet I put a smile on my face as much as I can, and stay as strong as I can for the paople around me. I think the real me comes out when it's dark and quiet and i'm all alone. Or when you're there... That's about it.</p><p class="MsoNormal">All my life, I've never been as angry as i am at you.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I'm sure you don't realise.</p><p class="MsoNormal">I often worry that someday you will realise that I'm not worth it.</p><p class="MsoNormal">You and I belong in two seperate worlds. But i'm glad you want to be part of mine...</p><p class="MsoNormal">I can see beauty in everyone but myself... Sometmes I worry I'll never see what you see in me...</p><p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes I wish that posting something like this didn't worry me. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes I wish I could tell you what is in my head.</p><p class="MsoNormal">All I want is you...
<br /></p>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-2765881294933292352010-05-20T20:46:00.002+09:302010-05-20T20:55:15.976+09:30and you look half dead all the time...We went out for coffee and I told you that one in every four girls self harmed.<br /><br />There were four of us there, and so you asked which one of the four of us it was...<br /><br />When noone replied, she said it was none of us, because they were the results of a survey of thousands and thousands of girls...<br /><br />What you didn't realise, is that i'm the one in four.StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-33927087947575150242010-05-19T22:57:00.002+09:302010-05-19T23:00:40.224+09:30cos nights like these i wish i said don't go...i dont want to be alone tonight...<br /><br />i want him...<br /><br />just to curl up in his arms and cry and cry and then calm down and not be alone.<br /><br />i want him...<br /><br />i just want this year to end...<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />i miss you Adam ♥ Lily ♥<br /><br />and you who today is about, Annabelle ♥</span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-47035696000558113702010-05-10T12:08:00.004+09:302010-05-10T12:29:47.817+09:30you should have known that what you did would hurt...Sometimes I wonder if I make myself sick. I mean... Not intentionally or anything. But like... Sub-consciously. I mean... surely no one could ever possibly get sick as often as I do. Surely it's not even... Possible.<br /><br />I mean, this is a virus. Today is a virus. But what about the rest of the time?<br /><br />Do I stress so much that it makes me physically ill? Do I take too much on and wear myself down to the point where my body can do nothing but be sick?<br /><br />I mean, I don't sleep... Much.<br /><br />I work 10-15 hours most weeks just to keep myself alive and in a house.<br /><br />I attempt to pass year twelve, but most of the time I'm just too exhausted and sick to even be able to think straight enough to do my work...<br /><br />I mean... I'm on all A's and B's. I know I shouldn't be disappointed in my efforts and grades. But I am.<br /><br />Annd this is what? My fourth Monday off all year? I push myself so hard to get through the week, then when normal people get a break of a weekend, I get to work, have pretty much no social life, no sleep, and attempt to find time to fit homework in between whatever my family has planned. So by the time Monday rolls around, I think I'm just that sick that... Coping, getting through a day of school just seems impossible. And so I convince myself, it's ok, we'll be working on this assignment that I've finished in Toursim, I have a free, Classics will be working on the essay, free, Justice we might get the new assignment... But we have til week seven on it so surely I can just see him about it tomorrow right? Besides, we'll probably just finish watching that video and it was really boring, and then do more worksheets... I won't miss that much...<br /><br />But then it all builds up.<br /><br />And then I slowly start to fall behind. And I mean, don't get me wrong. I get everything done. But I'm not going to deny that sometimes it's a bit of a scramble at the finishline.<br /><br />But that's the thing.<br /><br />Falling behind stresses me out... More than I already was. And then we start the entire cycle again.<br /><br />The cycle of sickness, and tears, and missing him, and bubble baths to calm down. Of late nights and working all weekend and family events that make homework almost impossible until most Sunday nights. Of Mondays staring into a bucket/down a toilet bowl vomiting. Or in bed coughing up my lungs, freezing even though I'm wrapped in layers of clothes and blankets and quilts and scarves with a heater on full. Of Mondays when even just getting up is too hard, and the light is too harsh for me to bear, Mondays spent in the dark, in silence, because it is the only way to survive them.<br /><br />I'm sick of Mondays.<br /><br />When this year is over, I am going to be so happy. Screw TERs and getting into uni and getting good grades... I just want to make it through alive.StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-52364828337215049162010-05-05T18:58:00.000+09:302010-05-05T18:59:04.255+09:30Fuck you, fuck you very muuuuuuuch :)Listen, I'm sure you're normally a perfectly nice person. But you don't know me. I've never met you, never spoken to you. You don't know me, or who I am.<br /><br />I am not evil, or mean, nor do I look down on people who are not christians.<br /><br />Being a christian is just part of my way of life and my beliefs and I in no way make any attempts to rub that in people's faces or try to force them to believe what I believe.<br /><br />I do not particularly appreciate you speaking about me, someone whom you have never met or even spoken to, to other people. Especially not people who are friends of Branden, and whom I might one day have to spend a lot of time around. I like to let people get to know me for me. Not for what other people say I am.<br /><br />I'm a nice person. And I love Branden. And I absolutely love his friends. The fact that he 'lets' me mingle with his friends is not some... controversy. It's because he actually values and respects me. Ok?<br /><br />I don't care if you hate christians and think they aren't worth 'shit'. I know I am worth something. And you know what? People like Branden, Courtney, Tamara and Simone would back me up on that. Not to mention all of the other ASMS people who I've met but have not really had a lot to do with.<br /><br />Look, people who actually know me respect me, and like me. I don't try to force my beliefs on anyone. And I certainly do not condemn people for not being a christian. I mean, I am going out with Branden. And he is certainly not a christian by any means. The fact that I am a christian doesn't make anything i say or do any more or less important.<br /><br />I'd just... Really appreciate if you don't speak about me to other people. If you want to believe that I am worthless and nothing I say or do matters, that is fine. But please do not publicly defame me by saying this to other people. Especially not those who I am actually starting to really care about.StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-63690078609268324592010-05-04T21:35:00.001+09:302010-05-04T21:35:58.392+09:30we wanna blend...so i am clinically depressed :)StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-84899901646089504352010-05-02T15:55:00.002+09:302010-05-02T16:32:37.290+09:30but without you i'll be miserable at best...you promised to prank me on the weekend when it would be a good time to talk...<br /><br />i guess you forgot.<br /><br />or you're too busy.<br /><br />or you just can't be arsed.<br /><br />or maybe i just don't matter.<br /><br />you also said you were too busy last weekend so you'd organise to see me this weekend... i guess that's not happening either.<br /><br />i give up.<br /><br />its not like it matters.<br /><br />its not like anything matters anymore...StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-51160183400566290252010-04-28T12:19:00.005+09:302010-04-28T13:26:14.782+09:30mmm whatcha say...mmm that you only meant well?<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbqUrKrEdRsedfOVFcg_2dnoVRuTNiElBRlJnV46zuo6E9aMDteXbNDw99wY5yeuVGFv8T53L1LjlKI6x4YP80boVjocmd1kK3uG2mBOgfW59iQDa8XmfJyUMrbQfIjojrWLTE6F268oY/s1600/phoebe+prince.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 224px; display: block; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465016664994395666" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbqUrKrEdRsedfOVFcg_2dnoVRuTNiElBRlJnV46zuo6E9aMDteXbNDw99wY5yeuVGFv8T53L1LjlKI6x4YP80boVjocmd1kK3uG2mBOgfW59iQDa8XmfJyUMrbQfIjojrWLTE6F268oY/s320/phoebe+prince.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>Photo <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">courtesy</span> of the Boston Globe.</em></div><br /><p><em></em> </p>This girl is Phoebe Prince.Phoebe was just like any other 15 year old girl in a new school.<br /><div>You know how it is at a new school, you try to make a good impression, dress right, fit in, make some friends.</div><br /><div> </div>But the poor girl from Ireland, no. She was met immediately with a stream of abuse.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>She was dated by one of the popular guys on the football team and this in turn lead to a constant stream of abuse from jealous teenage girls.<br /><br />Not only was this poor girl in a new school, she was in a new country (<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">America</span>...) trying to fit in with new people and new fashions and new social circles.<br /><br />And all the while she is being attacked from all sides, being called an '<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Irish</span> slut' and a 'whore' and basically informed that her death would be an 'improvement to the world'.<br /><br />Teachers witnessed this constant verbal abuse and brushed it off, ignored it, working on the theory that if they ignored it it would eventually go away.<br /><br />And one day, after she had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">redbull</span> can thrown as she walked home from school, it did go away.<br /><br />Phoebe walked into her room, went to her closet, and hung herself.<br /></div><br />She was found a few hours later, by her twelve year old sister.<br /><br />Let me get one thing fucking straight.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Cyber</span> bullying is a fucking problem. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Cyber</span> bullying is not cool or fun or a good fucking joke between you and your friends. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Cyber</span> bullying hurts people. Real people like you and me. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Cyber</span> bullying is not cool.<br /><br /></span>Look at her fucking picture. She is beautiful. She was, by all reports a nice, sweet girl who really tried to make friends in a new and scary place. And yet she was met by a constant stream of abuse and hatred from people who refused to even give her the time of day or get to know her.<br /><br />Suicide is a fucking crime. But you know, it's not Phoebe who is going to jail. No. It's the nine other teenagers involved, all of whom have been charged as adults and will appear as an adult in court not as a juvenile. They have been charged with things ranging from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">statutory</span> rape, to stalking, to abuse with a dangerous item, to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">hate speech</span>.<br /><br />Never ever get tricked into believing that the words you say have no affect on anyone. If you say unkind things about someone, they will take it to heart. Even if they seem to brush it off at the time, it may very well affect them. Just because one person doesn't take offence to your joking abuse doesnt mean that everyone will react in the same way...<br /><br />Just because it doesn't kill them doesn't mean they are unaffected.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Just. Fucking. Don't.<br /><br /></span>This shit makes me so fucking angry.<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><div></div>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-45514332572484748102010-04-27T19:29:00.003+09:302010-04-27T19:45:52.467+09:30This Week's Challenges....So... I saw J again tonight.<br /><br />She has decided she'll be setting me a list of tasks and challenges each week to see how successful I am with each. This week's challenges are as follows...:<br /><br /><ol><li>J thinks I'm too dependent on C... (which is you know, probably true). So, for the next week, any contact is not to be initiated by me. Basically I cannot send random texts 24/7, I am not to start new emails or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">failmails</span>. I can comment on his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">facebook</span>, reply to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wall posts</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">failmails</span>, emails. I can call if it is requested. However, everything I do is to be in reply to something of his... Just for one week... (so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">I'll</span> probably fail, or shoot myself... or blog more.) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Lol</span>.</li><li>J thinks I'm too negative in my outlook and don't really show my love and appreciation for people often enough. So the task for this week is to say something nice, completely out of the blue, to five people whom I am not particularly close with.<br /></li><li>Attempt to read for fun (not IS) for at least half an hour each night before bed. Also, this should be started at either 9.30 or 10.00 pm so that my newly prescribed sleeping tablets should be kicking in by the time my half hour is over.</li><li>Journal or blog at least once per day (so don't yell at me if I don't blog, it means I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">journalling</span> instead :P). Because J thinks I bottle too much up that I don't get out, not even to C because I fill time with mindless crap instead. Also, she suspects that if I'm not initiating contact, contact will be less frequent which means I'll bottle up more than I already do.</li><li>Try and take half an hour's time out for myself, preferably straight after school to give myself a bit of a break between school and homework. Apparently my stress levels are sky high and if I don't start taking some time out for myself I'm going to end up with high blood pressure.</li></ol>So... We'll see how I go with the challenges I guess.<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><br />--insert witty and humorous ending comment here--</span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-65466193254716761652010-04-22T19:29:00.006+09:302010-04-22T20:22:00.473+09:30You Probably Don't Think This Blog Is About You, Do You?You walked into the room<br />Like you were walking onto a stage<br />Your clothes stood out<br />Your voice was loud<br />You had one eye in the mirror<br />As you watched yourself talk<br />And all the girls hoped that you'd let them breathe,<br />you'd let them breath<br />You'd let them breathe, and<br /><br />You're so vain<br />You probably don't think this blog is about you<br />You're so vain<br />I'll bet you don't think this blog is about you<br />Do you? Do you?<br /><br />You used to keep the secrets i'd weep<br />When it was nothing to do with gossip<br />Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair<br />But I'm a little creeped out by that<br />You talk, you joke, you laugh<br />You carry the whole conversation<br />You're needy, you're clingy<br />I just can't shake you, and<br /><br />You're so vain<br />You probably don't think this blog is about you<br />You're so vain<br />I'll bet you don't think this blog is about you<br />Do you? Do you?<br /><br /><br />You're needy, you're clingy<br />I just can't shake you, and<br /><br />You're so vain<br />You probably don't think this blog is about you<br />You're so vain<br />I'll bet you don't think this blog is about you<br />Do you? Do you?<br /><br />Well, I hear you like to tell stories<br />About ideas that were naturally yours<br />Then take all the credit for them without a mention<br />To the one who really did it<br />Well, you're kinda out there<br />And you try too hard to be<br />Someone different or the wife of a close friend<br />Wife of a close friend, and<br /><br />You're so vain<br />You probably don't think this blog is about you<br />You're so vain<br />I'll bet you don't think this blog is about you<br />Do you? Do you? Do you?<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dearest, we talked about you tonight. ♥</span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-23799834753393193362010-04-22T13:48:00.002+09:302010-04-22T14:06:19.329+09:30has no one told you she's not breathing at all anymore...So.... she reckons my mental state was better when i was blogging and journal writing more because i was getting thoughts out of my head. so i suppose i'll be taking up blogging more regularly again...<br /><br />so...<br /><br />it occurs to me that i'm really not a very interesting person. my thoughts, my words, they'll never change the world. i will never affect anyone with what i say.<br /><br />how amazing would it be to be one of those people who say something and it is suddenly an important saying.<br /><br />im too tired to fall asleep.<br /><br />stolen from fireflies yes... but im too tired...<br /><br />its been about a week now...<br /><br />and yet the relief of sleep doesnt come.<br /><br />she says she's going to refer me to a doctor to go on sleeping tablets permanently. cos the ones she is able to give me just make me drowsy, dont put me to sleep...<br /><br />damnit i should finish this homework....<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">one day my brain will work. </span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-15422069505627556472010-04-19T23:00:00.002+09:302010-04-19T23:01:19.720+09:30what a mystery, what a story...<span style="font-size:78%;">once you've been there before... you know how to make sure scars don't show...<br /></span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-86113639037261734212010-04-19T21:01:00.003+09:302010-04-19T21:03:45.619+09:30i can't believe it................I don't even know how to explain this level of hurt...<br /><br />Kinda you know... The one lone member of this family i like and get along with.....<br /><br /><br /><br />I guess it goes to show family can hurt you more than anyone else.<br /><br /><br />i mean god damnit. he knew it wasn't true. He knew. And yet he went ahead and said it all anyway... I dont even fucking well know how to respond to that........StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-74228797037021291012010-04-18T15:32:00.001+09:302010-04-18T15:32:55.190+09:30fuk uuu. uu dnt no who i am. an if u hdnt klld a incnt bby u wudnt b in dis mess.<p class="formspringmeAnswer">What part of 'I haven't had an abortion' are you not getting?</p><p class="formspringmeFooter"> <a href="http://formspring.me/Leisha92">Ask Me Stuff?</a></p>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-48192816224969543292010-04-18T14:24:00.001+09:302010-04-18T14:24:47.588+09:30What do you define love as?<p class="formspringmeAnswer">It's a hard question, cos there's so many ways to define love. But I guess it's like when there's just this one amazing person who means the world to you, who you'd find it almost impossible to live without. They're that one person who you would do anything for and they would do anything for you. They are where you feel safe. They are where you feel wanted. They are where you want to be. And it doesn't matter what you're doing, everything is just instantly better because they are there.And being with them, it's like nothing can hurt you too badly, because he'll just wipe your tears and find some way to cheer you up. Somehow, they're just... The most perfect person in your life. You know? Someone who you wouldn't change a thing about, even though they will undoubtably have flaws. Someone who can completely disagree with your beliefs but still support you in them anyway. Someone who may not share the same values, but is willing to uphold them anyway because it's what you want. Someone who would do anything to see you happy. Love just... is.</p><p class="formspringmeFooter"> <a href="http://formspring.me/Leisha92">Ask Me Stuff?</a></p>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3679605937854835938.post-31446298398862628282010-04-17T23:04:00.004+09:302010-04-17T23:22:31.684+09:30Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir ;)<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Dedicated to Christie.</span></span><br /><br />The girl sat on her bed, mirror in hand, her fingers running over the bags beneath her eyes, over the pimples on her nose, through the tangles in her thin scraggly hair.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ugly. Worthless. Scum.</span><br /><br />She glared at her stomach and poked at her thighs. Disgusted. She glanced up, just in time to see the red bubble appear above the message icon on her facebook page. <span style="font-style: italic;">'...I hope it's him...'</span><br /><br />It wasn't who she wanted. It wasn't who she expected. It wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't what she expected.<br /><br />But it was what she needed.<br /><br />13 simple words from a beautiful woman of God.<br /><br />'<span style="font-style: italic;">God seems to be telling me to tell you He thinks you're beautiful.'</span>StormGirl53http://www.blogger.com/profile/01245622237583802396noreply@blogger.com0