The Conductor is Beckoning

It's 3:00 a.m. again. I find myself wasting my time, and hating myself for it. I get on Facebook and read all of the crap everyone says. I convince myself it's real, and I convince myself that I am alone as I look at the pictures of everyone I care about. I stare at the picture and put my left hand on my chin. I love this person, but this is just a picture. There is nothing coming back but the smile from a face. I search for more authenticity, and I am at a loss. I run through my hands through my hair as the whole world hits me. I hate myself, I have no real talents, and my future is destitute. I am stressed, alone, afraid, and hopeless.

This pattern reoccurs nightly. Depression is a heavy, dark blanket, and I hate it more than any sickness I have yet experienced. I hate it because I feel at fault for every feeling I get. But . . . depression is more than that.

When I am walking on campus, my eyes are dry as I try harder and harder to look up, to maybe just see the sky and hope that something or someone is out there. People pass by and stare straight ahead. I look at their feet. Life is awful. I hate myself, and no one seems to care. That's what it is to me. When I was growing up, I believed religiously that my dad hated me and that they thought I was a failure; perhaps that was because I so strongly thought of that of myself? They always told me otherwise, but I was convinced they were lying through their teeth.

You might think, "Well, those are normal teenager things to feel! Everyone has a hard time eventually believing they are worth something!" What if I told you that this is just the start?

For the longest time, overwhelming worthlessness has tortured me. I would do poorly on an assignment and immediately start contemplating whether life was really worth it. I would do poorly on a test and I would begin to dream of suicide. I would get a poor grade and I couldn't get my mind off ropes around my neck or blood in the bathtub. I hit the bottom, and I am desperate for someone to grab my hand and pull me out of these asphyxiating shadows. I confide in a friend, and they tell me to cheer up. Just that. "One bad grade won't kill you," they say. "You just need to have a positive attitude." I throw their advice away because of it's useless practicality. I don't understand how to have a positive attitude, and I don't understand how this would help the situation. How can I have a positive attitude when all I can hear in my mind is, "Brett, kill yourself. The world would be much better off without you."

I apologize, I slid off into a tangent. What I am trying to communicate is that sometimes words aren't enough when someone with depression is at their worst. People don't understand what it is like to despise that person you see in the mirror. You hate this person you've become because you are letting yourself down. I hate this person I've become because I am letting myself down.



Please know, everyone, that suicidal threats are not made to threaten everyone else. When someone talks of wanting to kill themselves, the last thing they want to see you do is cry. Be strong for them. Hug them close and tell them you never want to lose them. Let you words sink into their mind through the skin; their ears are blocked. Suicidal feelings create a fragile situation that seems destined to fall and break, yet here's the catch; it isn't. Suicidal feelings are a terrible concoction stirred in isolation, and in the words of a wise friend, "Isolation is death." When I am depressed, reaching out isn't an option. So this is where the responsibility falls in your hands. REACH OUT. If you are their friend, ALWAYS LET THEM KNOW HOW MUCH YOU CARE ABOUT THEM. This may seem like my own selfish plea to snag whatever attention I can, but this isn't. It is the furthest thing from. This is for others who know someone who has depression. Reach out to them, and take them seriously. They care deeply about people, and they want people to care about them.

I apologize again because things are so much easier said than done. Sometimes actions are fruitless. I'm sorry.

I speak as though I have "come out of depression."
I haven't.
I still struggle with my medication. I still believe they don't work. I still feel suicidal often.

I guess I don't even know what I'm saying.



We need people, I suppose. Or maybe I'm just making up crap and everyone else who is unfortunate enough to have depression feels ever so differently than I.

Still.

Bring a fire to a body that houses winter.

Bullets Flying Overhead!!!

Hey e'erybody.

So . . . how's this Christmas season treating you?

It's treating me rather swell, for those curious.

I'll actually have money to spend on others this year, which is very nice. I don't have to feel selfish as I receive so many various gifts. But . . . if you want to get me something . . . you could never go wrong with money or ice cream . . . just sayin' . . . :)



So, here's a conclusion that I've come to today.

I am not special.

And probably never will be.

See, I've grown up my whole life with this mindset that I am what life is about, that what is happening is me and that I am special and whatever other crap is loaded in there. Sure, there isn't anyone like me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to change the world, it doesn't mean I am what's most important in my everyday situations, and it most certainly does not mean that my desires come first. And when I say desires, I mean wants. I don't imply the connotation that the church does. I include some of those, but it isn't limited to 'lustful wishes.' Yuck. I feel gross just saying that. But everyone has those, so I won't go about denying that I don't. But I always thought of myself different, that I was an exception, I was a saint, and whenever I made a mistake, it had been made with an excuse coming in a nicely wrapped package. Because, if I mistake, it's definitely JUST a mistake, but if someone else makes one? I criticize them until they are nothing but dirt. I place the blame on them. No blame is on me, but it is all their fault.

We do this everyday.

We

We care about our own feelings so much, because that is the one thing we feel to be true.

We can't be positive that other's have feelings.

But we can be positive that we do.

And that's why we act with ourselves in mind.

Because that's all we care about.

Ourselves.


It's sad and gray, but whatever. Life is life. We're just the pests that are feasting on whatever this planet can give us.



Well, I have great friends, you guys. Just thought I'd let you all know. I am so insane, and yet they tolerate me to a ridiculous amount. In fact, they tolerate me and go as far as calling me THEIR friend! I'm sure I'm a heavy weight sometimes, but thanks for sticking through all the crud that we've gone through.



I love cold weather, but I'd rather be warm next to you.

We Are, We Are, We Are Made From Broken Parts

And a great Thanksgiving comes to a close, and yet again I find it difficult to put my feelings into words.
It's so hard to vocalize just what pain you feel.
It's so hard to feel cold and warm at the same time.



I had a great Thanksgiving for all of those reading this. I spent the afternoon at my aunt's, following the usual tradition of stuffing myself with stuffing and other delightful delicacies. Afterwards, I traveled to the downstairs couch, a companion I had been searching for for so long. We fell in love quickly and before I knew it, I took a two hour nap. 'Twas a good nap. Woke up, ate some more.

You know.
The usual.

So yeah! Thanksgiving was great. Seeing family that you've wanted to see for a while is like placing cold numb hands under warm running water. You get tingles and you just close your eyes and enjoy the moment that you have at that second and maybe for the next.

Moments like those are what get me through these days. The times that I look at the pictures hung up in my hallway, and I think about how someone made those. Someone took that time to make this work of art.
The times that I see gestures of love between two and I feel that wasp called envy.
The times I wake up from the most fantastic dream, and I grow heavy with the feeling of knowing that dream wasn't reality . . . but maybe it could be.



Hey, let's all just take our pills and calm down, yeah? Let's take our advil so we can't feel that pain anymore. Let's swallow our antidepressants so we can stop feeling alive. Let's inhale our favorite drugs and take a quick nap that will last a little longer than we expected.

They want me to stop fighting.

But maybe we should.
Because that's what we were told.
That's what we were raised to do.

I should keep myself quiet.

I Won't Let You Give Up On A Miracle When It Might Save You

When will we fall in love?

Perhaps never.

But can I handle that?


Probably not. But that's okay.





So, I had an emotionally traumatic event occur today. I was watching the ONLY anime I watch, currently on episode 203. A battle had been going on between my favorite character and some protagonist. It was honestly one of the coolest fights I have ever seen. But, the problem is that my favorite character is an antagonist, so his fate was doomed to begin with.
This is him.

In the episode I just watched, he is killed at the end. You don't know much about him, but right before his death, you see a flashback of his whole back story. It was amazing and incredibly emotional. I found it strange because he is an emotionless character that only hates and cares about himself, but there were always hints that he cared, and this flashback proved it. I'll admit, I shed two tears. It was . . . awesome. I sound like a total nerd right now, but I honestly don't care. You guys have stuff that you obsess over. Well, Bleach (the anime) is mine. Or one of mine, I should say.



If I can say something, it's that my motivation to continue on in school is fading rapidly. Effort never required so much effort before.





If things ever change,

let me know.

When happiness is your closest companion,

let me know

When you find someone new,

let me know

When you fall in love and you know that love is real,

let me know

When you feel like you are on top of the world,

let me know

When you know you aren't on the top of the world,

let me know

When sadness is your closest companion,

let me know

When you come to a dead end,

let me know

When you no longer trust yourself and everyone else,

let me know

When you are desperate for words,

let me know

When you make mistakes,

let me know

When you see the mistakes you've made and you accept them for what they are,

let me know

When you know who you are

let me know

If you change,

let me know.

I will listen.




Being vague is obnoxious, and so I'll do my best not to be. But it's so hard to keep a secret and not be vague at the same time.

And In My Mind As I Was Floating Far Above The Clouds . . .

Hello world.

Yes, it's really me. What? I made another blog post? But I haven't posted for almost a half of a year! Crazy, right? Except that it really isn't that crazy, considering life has just been crazy over all . . .

Well, here's a recap of what everyone missed.
-I lost a best friend, again. Almost a repeat of what happened last year, but I'm finally beginning to realize my mistakes.
-I am now working at JCW's, and I freaking love my job. My coworkers are literally some of the best people I know. Seriously, I wish I could stop going to school and just work there instead.
-I am in an art class that I enjoy muchly. I love art and I'm almost sure that's what I want to do for the rest of my life.
-I've gotten a better hold of my sanity. I am crashing less and feeling happier without feeling ignorant, which is a good thing.
-I'm almost beginning to find the important things in life.
-I got a 3DS and am addicted to Pokemon. Yes, this is very much a problem, yes.
-I'm starting a comic book. Well, just BARELY starting.
-I've amassed a massive collection of fantastic musical artists. (Mostly through illegal means)
-I've officially joined Reddit. Yes, this is very much a problem.

So . . . yeah. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask them in a comment or somethin'.
And, if you were wondering, I really do enjoy people coming to JCW's and seeing me. I cannot visit with you for more than ten or so seconds, but I really do love it when you guys come.

Well, I'm still am infatuated and can't let go, if you were at all curious.


This post was mainly just to let you guys all know that I'm back and back for a while now. Expect weekly posts at least. If I don't comply to these agreements, feel obliged to harass me through e-mail and facebook messages.

Have a great day n' shiz.

I Know You Don't Get a Chance to Take a Break This Often

And sometimes,
I just let the darkness take over me.

And love was never real.

The Light Behind Your Eyes

So many things that are changing about the way I think . . .

I guess I'm not alone.

No,
I am not alone.

There's no "I guess" about it.


All I can say about is that I had a weekend full of eye-opening experiences. I let go. I let loose the monster inside me to only discover that the monster is me, and that it's a good thing. For the longest time, I was told I couldn't do this and I couldn't do that, but now I understand. There's a time for everything.


I am Brett Anderson.
Rebel at Heart.
Student in disguise.



I've been feeling empty all of my life. Feeling this hole that I thought could never be filled.
But now,
that hole has started to fill.
Slowly.
With something beautiful.


I still don't quite know where I'm headed.
But maybe that place is good.




The world is ugly.
But there are things beautiful to me. And even though the good things are hard to see sometimes, I can promise you that they are there. My heart aches for those who feel dark and alone, because, more than anything, I want to hold them tight and tell them that they are not, and they never will be. There is gold inside of all of us. There is gold inside all of us. There is gold inside all of us.

Yes.
There is gold inside you.

You are beautiful.
And no one can tell you that you are less than that.

There is gold inside of you.
Because you are golden.


The world can't exist without the shadow and the hero.
You cannot exist without the shadow inside of you and the hero inside of you.


If I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep,
never let them take the light behind your eyes.


And if I ever fall into that all-too familiar darkness, pull me out.
Because I can't do it alone.

None of us can.

Infinite Legends

Walking on an island of the decayed.
The wind howls like the echoes of a crying piano melody.
I can't feel anything.
But the stinging of the venom in my heart.
And the tear-streams on my face.


It's so hard to be what everyone else wants you to be. It's like a door down the hallway that you're running to, but the hallway keeps stretching, and your legs are getting worn out to the point of breaking. Yet, you just want to reach that door, but somehow you know it won't ever happen.

For those days that feel like a mistake,
For those times that love is what you hate.

I find it so hard to speak of how I feel, because I'm tired of harming others with how my feelings are harming me. In some ways, I wish that sympathy and love didn't exist, so I might live a life content and alone.

But I can't, and I know I don't want to be alone. Hell . . . I don't want to be alone.

But what if am?

What if?
What if?
What if?



The night approaches, and darkness settles into the town as streetlamps flicker on with their amber light.
A beautiful contrast of color, as the dark blue surfaces and the orange-white pulses.
It is beautiful.
There is beauty in everyday life. There are good things.

So why can't I see the good things in myself? Why can't I find the miracles in my life?


I want to lie on the road, the dark sky surrounding me like my night-time blanket. I can feel the rocks resting beneath my back. I can see headlights approaching.
And, maybe for once, I am solid.
I am un-moving.
I am ready.


All of the things I want, all of the things I think I need . . . Will they always be up at the surface of the lake, taunting me as I sink deeper into the murk, unable to breathe?


Longing.

That's all I know how to feel.

I Wish There Was Something Inside Me To Keep You Beside Me

There are those few seconds that I look at myself, and all that I am. I look at who I was even just five years ago.
And all of the changes that have happened . . .

What have I done to myself?

What happened to the years where I was shocked beyond belief when someone had held hands with someone?
Now, I hear of sex and not a second thought goes through my mind.
What happened to the days where innocence was something I had yet didn't treasure?
Now, I know of my stains and I wish I could wash them away.


Everyone speaks of second chances, but where are they when the opportune time has passed?
I would give you money for that,
Is there some way I could back?


Well, enough of that.

I'm sick of being mopey. Someone stole $50 bucks from my brother. So the past few days have been this small fiasco on how we need to be "watching our friends like hawks" and stuff. I just think it's so dumb and sad. I've stolen money before, and I cannot tell you how guilty I felt. I just find it interesting how people can live with that, or sometimes not even feel it. I feel so bad for Jared, too, because that was his birthday money. :( Dark days in the Anderson house.


So remember when I said that I loved school?


OH WAIT.


HAHAHAHAHA.



I'M SO FUNNY.

BECAUSE THAT WAS NEVER.



Well, all in all, I just wish I were a super-hero so bad. Or even a super-villain would be awesome. I often dream of me and my friends as a legendary superhero team. It's usually what helps me sleep at night, actually.



Now, the eve approaches, and I feel as though my presence is no longer required.

And
here,
these empty words
resound in the chasms of my lungs
and burn through my eyes
eyes dry like the stone walls
And
here,
these empty feelings
bloomed into beauty.
And
they say it is darkness.

And Help My Eyes To See

And here is a portion of the remaining art in my sketchbook. Sadly, my scanner decided to bug out right I finished scanning the third one. Well, turds and tartar sauce. Stupid printer.


So, hope everyone's life is going well and stuff. I really do. Because I'm tired of all of this that's happening . . . I promise I'm trying my best to not act or be miserable, but it's so difficult especially with all of this breathing down my neck, and all the other problems that decided to surface themselves in this poisonous pool and whatever. Poisonous pool. Yeah.

Poisonous pool?
What?
Yeah.


So here's an update for y'all. I did FINALLY finish my sketchbook, and it felt SO OFFICIAL signing the front of it with my name and putting a date on it. It's very difficult to describe that feeling in words. Gosh dang it, printer! Why dost thou break on me? RIGHT WHEN I WAS GETTING EXCITED!!! Whatevs, printer. Whatevs.


Not much to say about my life right now. Just tryin' to hang in there and everything else that everyone wants me to do.



So?
Peace out.

*No Line Here Because My Parents Took My Zune*

More than anything, I really just want to rant about all of this stupid crap that's going on in my life right now.
And by stupid crap, and mean really stupid crap. Really. Stupid.

I am currently unable to listen to music through a portable device as a punishment, which is killing me more than I would have realized. It is nearly impossible for me to do math without homework, and so my grades aren't so hot. Which only creates EVEN MORE tension between me and my parents, which overall degrades on my very will to live and love. Plus, it doesn't help that so much is happening besides that. So much. You would think that it would stop at school and parental problems, but no! Of course it doesn't! So much that's happening . . .



I don't think people understand how much I actually hate the general 'people.' Actually, I take that back. I mainly just hate teenagers, but adults can fall into that 'people' category as well. But everyone is just so ignorant and selfish . . . So absorbed in what they want and what they think they "need." If you notice, teenagers only do things for the benefit of themselves. I know of very few instances where a teen has been truly selfless.

Well, it's not just teens, either.

Everyone, generally, just ignores how others feel. I hate it. I hate it so much. And more than I should, I get a very strong urge to deck people in the face and knock 'em out cold.


I'm just hating everything.


No music.

My parents don't even trust me.

My parents want money from me.

My life over-all is a wreck.




Sorry for all of this that I'm putting out to all of you guys.

Negativity generates negativity, but I need to get it out somehow.


I apologize again.

I Know It Wasn't You That Made Me Feel This Way

And then there was Brett.
And he couldn't stop thinking about someone.

And it was tearing him apart.

I'm Alone With Your Voice Inside My Head

Everyone is avoiding me.


And I guess it's for good reason.

Don't Leave Me Alone

I've somehow managed to screw up everything in my life.

I Don't Know the City, but it isn't Home

I'm not an idiot.
I'm a real person. I have feelings.

And yes, I'm trying.

I'm sorry for being a jerk.





I'm sorry for being me.