i have been on this website for over 5 years now and even though i’ve deleted and remade i’ve never made my blog about myself which is just a testament to how strongly i dislike myself but seeing as how i’m about to be evicted from one of the only constant places in my life it’s time i start keeping better track of who i am, how i feel, what i’m doing, and there’s no point in hiding any of that on a password protected blog
it’s august 2015 my name is brianna marie and i’m still a fucking kid regardless of how much i’d like to convince myself i’m not. its been 11 months since my mother died. i’m still not okay about it. i’m afraid of time and life because the definition of both has completely fucking changed in my mind. i’m terrified of moving on because i can’t let go of anything or anyone. i’m leaving my father behind and moving to manhattan with my aunt. i’m terrified of moving because i’m self centered as all hell and the thought of hundreds of people looking at me by every day makes me nauseated. i rarely leave my house because i can’t stand other people looking at me without control of what they see. as of right now i’ve tried to kill myself twice and i’ll probably try to kill myself again in the future knowing myself. i like being hospitalized but there’s nothing more i hate than visiting people in hospitals. i get split in half very easily. bipolar, biracial, bisexual. i never make decisions because i’m terrified of being wrong. i think i’m a much better person than i am, and i may come off as a much better person than i am. i lie a lot, i lie a lot a lot a lot a lot and it’s the easiest thing. right now i’m conflicted because part of me wants to get a bubble and float into the sky and watch life pass (which is essentially what i’ve done for the past year just from my room) and part of me knows that death is inevitable but so are memories. it’s stupid but i’d like to leave an impact of some sort. speaking of which i live entirely inside of my head. i have the craziest fucking ideas about these things i want to achieve but it’s impossible for me to ever put in any effort because i don’t take care of my depression and i’ve let it grow into a huge mass inside of my body. i know that i’m capable of doing a lot of things, but i’ve only liked things when they’re easy. i want to be someone special and i need to stop equating special with famous. i hope that someday i like myself enough to let people hear me sing, because it’s not nearly as bad as i tell myself it is. i don’t like people but i go out of my way to make sure they like me. i constantly need to be reassured that i’m liked and cared for, god knows why i’m so fucking needy. i could be a lot better at everything if i wanted to, and i think i have to force myself to start doing so. i won’t bother getting into the things i don’t like about myself because then i’ll go on forever. there’s some quote on here that’s like “there are girls who read lolita and find religion” which was unfortunately me. i can’t help myself a lot of the time. there’s no point in resisting the things you enjoy. i mean unless you’re hurting other people. i hate hurting other people more than anything. i lied earlier, i’m not as bad of a person as i think i am. i need to cheer myself on as much as i cheer everyone else on. i’ve been dragged through a lot of things no 17 year old girl should have to but it’s something i appreciate. that’s a lie. i don’t appreciate it. but if i tell myself that it’s made me “stronger” maybe i will be stronger. i am so scared of living the rest of my life but i think that i will be alright.
that’s all. it’s a lot, but if you don’t want to know anything about me then don’t bother following me anymore. i’m still going to reblog the things i like to see, but i’m going to start posting more of myself because i’m tired of losing all of my memories. i’ve never had a massive following anyways, so like what’s the point? i’m bri and i don’t need to put on any faces for anyone. i have a personality. fuck you. love y’all.