For as long as I could remember I was this young beautiful pale skin girl with nervous energy. It gets a little red then pink when I pinch it. There was always something about my skin that irked me. I lived in Ohio as long as I opened my eyes but it never became a part of me. Ohio is beautiful and green, but it was just another place I existed in. Just another person existing in this whole, wide universe. I don't have some tragedy hidden just beneath the surface of my skin to appall you. I just hate myself. I always did.
My whole living room is a mess. My life is a mess. Troy seems to want to come over or not. He wants to go to the movies and dinner. He asked me out so I suggested my living room. I'd really like him to be here. I want him just as much as I think he wants me. How many sentences can you write about liking someone? Too many.
April 4th 2006
12:35 a.m.
Current Mood: Vexed
Current Location: On my bed
Current Music: Regina Spektor
I am lying uncomfortably awake on my stomach on my bed. I had a date yesterday. It went well so it really could be something. Well this guy has potential. He was nice but I hesitated. I hesitated to stumble in front of him and kiss him good night. I wasn't hoping to dip him or anything, but a kiss wouldn't have hurt. He can really be someone I could love and trust. He could really be a sweetheart. And the irony of it all, I couldn't tell him that. It really hurts that I couldn't tell him that I'm going away for a month. A whole freaking month. Or where. An entire month is a long time. I'm just going to disappear and he's going to hate me.
If he really knew how messed up I was, would he even take me out? If he knew, he would've run. Fast. Away.
Why would someone like him would want to be with someone like me?
Why?
Past- midnight poem:
My heart hurts more than it beats
It's dark and it constricts
My palms are sweaty and
my temple is wet
I'm anxious but I don't let it vex
It'll get slow or it'll get higher
That's nothing more than a heart could desire
Fire, fire and some fire
It bleeds and it's a reminder
Wake up, wake up, wake up
You're still alive,
I'm alive
Wait...
I can't see,
My breaths are heavy
Anxiety in my veins
I open my eyes,
Once again,
Slowly and gingerly,
I'm lost and never to be found again.
I should really try to write when I'm not half- dead, tired and sleep- deprived. Too much light illuminating from my cellphone's screen is hurting my eyes.
PS- Will you marry me Chandler? I love you, okay. Bye.
****
5th April, 2006.
11:52 a.m.
Current mood: irritable, more than my cat
Current location: my messy room
Current music: Sarah Bareilles
My room is so messy that I want to die. There are books, piles of papers and magazines, and stack of assignments left to do from school. Sometimes, I feel like an invalid that nothing has changed since high- School. I've done nothing; achieved nothing. I'm a failure and I can't shake off this upset feeling no matter, how much I would like to or tried.
Bleh! I'm packing and hearing music so loud that I'm scared my ear drums are going to burst. I'm going away to this new place and I'm self- conscious and hyper that I'm going to mess everything up.
Why life? Why?
PS- I can't find my pink t-shirt. Where have you gone to vacation? Yep, I'm still crazy.
****
6th April, 2006.
2:53 p.m.
Current mood: Hypomania
Current location: driving away from Cincinnati
Current music: iTunes
My mom is driving away on the highway and the sun is overly bright falling on our black car as golden arrays of a rainbow blinding us.
I haven't driven in a while. Okay, in a few months. Okay, years. Ugh, since sixteen.
I hate the fact that my parents won't let me get the permit like every other sixteen year old did. Now, there's one more thing that I can't do. And, I hate that. I can sit awkwardly in the passenger's seat all my life and hate myself.
I can't wait to feel more self- conscious with a hundred eyes on me, looking at me, judging me, in need of help looking for some kind of validation that we all belong here.
PS- I want to jump and dance in the car seat so much, but my mom wouldn't appreciate that. I live with her so I have to listen to her.
Cue some pop music.
****
I made it to the health program. That's what I'm calling it. A program. A program designed for people to make feel better about their skin and the person beneath the skin. In general, about themselves, of bipolar and eating disorders and self- awareness, anxiety, anorexia and Self Injury. I was there to get help. There. I said it. I was there getting help to become a better person. I got the necessary help I needed because my whole family was scared the fuck of the situation. They were scared of me. They were scared from the person that I'm becoming or I've become and it has apparently replaced the Scarlett they know. They are scared to even look me in the eyes. They are scared to ask me the most basic questions because now, as much as it seems, they've become more personal.
How are you feeling, Scar?
Do you feel better, Scar?
What's going in your mind, Scar?
What are you really thinking, Scar?
Are you feeling sane enough, Scar?
So many questions remain silent, dying on their pretty lips.
So, I participated in this program. I feel better. I even made a friend. Her name is Addison. She's the prettiest woman I've ever seen. She's the most amazing person I've met in a while. She makes me smile and my whole world stops when she looks at me.
It's crazy how she makes me feel. I can't explain it. It's some hidden expression between love and lust. I like her. I like her way too much than what she knows.
When she was playing in the snow, covered with excitement and ice, she was the prettiest woman I've ever laid eyes on. They were one of the prettiest moments that I've had in the program and I'm taking them away with me.
I just wish she felt better about herself.
Like I wish for myself too.
****
Hey, I'm Scarlett. Just another girl in this big, vast world. I'm bipolar and this is my story.
God, how I wanted to write that! Ha. But yes, my story can make you smile or cry, don't say you haven't been warned.
****
Scarlett was a myriad of emotions. She had smooth skin dipped in ivory and eyes clearer than the blue lagoon. But her eyes held a silent storm behind them. She was fervent. She was compassionate. She was blazing. She was a magma.
YOU ARE READING
Pages Won't Turn
General FictionThis is a story about Scarlett and Addison and how they fell in love. This book contains sensitive subjects like self-injury and mental illness. Someone needed to save them so they saved each other.
