#lfernandezlifeblog

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

Choices.

I find myself constantly reviewing and revisiting times in my life when I made decisions for myself, especially ones that I didn’t quite know at the time were pretty big for me.

I think about like going to college. Where I chose to start was a community college and I was upset about it. It wasn’t exactly my choice. I did it out of guilt and shame for my parents. Ultimately, it’s your life and your own fault so I blame myself most of all for succumbing and giving in. I didn’t like it. I still don’t at times. Even going on to University, it isn’t my choice still. I caved in. I didn’t go where I wanted to go. Yet, I became successful. I became Valedictorian of my community college then a year later became an intern at one of the biggest, most competitive companies in the world. So, I go over in my head, constantly pushing and pulling myself apart. I tear myself apart over thinking if I did things “right”, and what does it even mean to be right? Like, I became successful and all, but I also sacrificed the part of life of being a real college student. I lost the part of my life of knowing what it was like living on your own in college, having your own place and learning how to take care of yourself without your parents. I feel cheated in knowing that part of life was ripped away from me. And then I envy the people who got both. The people that got to live on their own and party and still be successful. And I can’t seem to find both. It’s like I was given two choices and I can’t have both so I picked one but I wanted it all. And maybe I can, but I don’t know how. I think to myself, if I did go the different route and moved to UCF, would I still have been able to achieve what I have today? And I think, no. But a part of me also thinks, fuck that. I’d rather have myself shitfaced every weekend and graduate with debt and nothing at times over what I have because life is short and you don’t live forever so you better fucking enjoy what you have now. I became the person I thought I wouldn’t when I was younger. I chose a career over everything else and it feels like everything is falling on top of me. Every mistake, every flaw, every regret. 

I think to when I’m 30. Who will I be? Did I change at all? Have I grown at all as a person, as a human being? Or am I still the boring, work all the time person? Will things ever be better than they are now? Will I ever think more than I do now? I want to know. I want to become a person that finally has some answers to questions I ask all the time. 

I feel alone. I feel like I will never meet anyone because they either don’t like me or doesn’t like guys at all. I feel that no one ever liked me that way and that hurts. I was always just the friend. The funny, nice friend. Never someone you thought of having a relationship with or going anywhere more than friends or even just a one-night stand. “I am just a toy that people enjoy till all of the tricks don’t work anymore.” I wish somebody liked me.

24 November. 2019. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

the most transformative year

In my developed pretentiousness and bloated sense of ego, I have seemed to make it a habit to review the past year in light of the new year despite being a literal fetus. I also do this for my birthday, but I detest thinking on that day to avoid thinking how much closer to death I am, which has seemed to grow into another habit of mine. As always, life imitates art (or more so I confuse plagiarism with flattery), which means sometimes I quote from songs, films, and tv shows without actually using quotes so don't mind me please. I haven't started that process yet, so don't worry about the previous statements.  There are two things I in review I always say to myself: that I have done nothing of value all year and that the next year will be worse than the last. This holds both true and false value of various degrees for 2018, depending on how I look at it. In 2017, I traveled to Italy and explored Rome, Florence, and Venice. I changed majors and found something I was comfortable doing (hopefully, I love my engineering classes so far). I spent as much time with my best friend that I could and explored parts of my state I have never been to before. I worked two jobs. I did a lot and didn't think the next year could live up to it and it would be worse for a huge glaring reason I will go into detail later. 2018 changed a lot for me. I quit one job and left the other job because I graduated from that college. I graduated as valedictorian and then transferred to University. I managed to form new friendships despite my shyness and mindset that I would never make another friend again after the previous year. They don't handle a candle to her, but it was a start to feeling normal, or growing up. I returned to California and spent blissful, relaxing weeks there. I managed to transition into University nicely by getting most of the grades I wanted. I landed the internship I've been pining for 2 months since applying.  That all sounds rather boring, so let me go straight to what has made the last year the most transformative: my mental health. I have had depression for at least 5 years, if not more. It was hell. It was never fun. I never asked to have it, but I had it anyway. If you asked me how I have it, I still wouldn't be able to muster a coherent, sensible answer to give you. It was light at first, just sad thoughts here and there. But that's how it worked for me. It slowly grew into a monster that drained the life from me with each passing day. I had flames inside my head that I couldn't put out. I tried everything, and they were temporary band-aids. I wrote poetry. I listened to music, though not particularly constructive since I can only listen to music according to my mood and since I was depressed most of the time, well. The thing that helped the most during this period was talking to my best friend. The only one that truly understood my pain and whom I confided in all my most painful thoughts. This person was my life support, my plug, my life. Still is in many ways.  Yet, the pain remained. The wound festered and rotted my brain. The quiet flames burned white. I thought most of the time of wishing for death and going through each possible method until finally settling for death in sleep, not by pills or anything, just is, because it could never be ruled as intentional and I would be unaware of it. I desired death, but didn't want to be aware it was happening to me. Hypocritical, right? I thought about how worthless I felt. I always compared myself to others and wished I was somebody else, well, more like having their certain qualities. I thought about how ugly I am. I thought about how stupid I am. I thought about how physically weak I am. I felt like nothing. I thought I was nothing. I thought about how much of a loser I was. All my friends were able to leave their house without having to ask for permission or being able to stay out until 2 AM in the morning while for me, I always had to like ask in advance from my parents and I could never stay out past 9 PM. I always pitied myself, then thought about how other people had it worse in other countries then hated myself even more for complaining and feeling selfish. Then, I would go back and forth with myself with these arguments of how pain isn't a competition and that you're allowed to feel that way and always arguing with myself and no one else that ultimately got me nowhere to feeling better about myself. My thread to life barely hung in the air and my instinct for survival was practically gone. I constantly wondered if it ever truly got better. I thought that life was meaningless and that there is no God. This is all coincidental. When I die, that is it. I just cease to exist. And that made it even worse. I thought, who cares. Life is pointless.  The thoughts got darker over time. I wrote more poetry and the writing got better, even when I was deteriorating. Yet somehow, towards the end I had a sudden seed of desire to get better. I wanted to get better. I don't know where the sudden feeling came from. The seed slowly grew until I acted on it in September of 2018. I paced back and forth of the counseling center for weeks before. I debated in my head whether I should go in or not. I wanted to go in, but the flames inside my head burned me and convinced me I didn't need it. I confused my depression for regular sadness that everyone experienced and thought it was normal. I told myself that even if I got medication, my internal problems would still remain there and that pills couldn't take them away, that I would just be a drug addict clinging to pills because they would be the only thing that made me feel anything. I told myself that I was selfish and that my problems weren't real problems and that my depression was all in my head and other people in other countries had it worse. These were the things I constantly grappled with in my head when I considered therapy for at least a year.  I finally worked up the courage and just thought, just try it and if I don't like it, I need not ever commit. And I did.  The first few sessions were the hardest. Besides my best friend, I never went into detail of what I was feeling. I never explained the depth of my emptiness, sadness, pain, and anger at everyone and the world and myself for feeling the way that I am and for just existing. To fully divulge myself over the course of several weeks was extremely cathartic. I felt like I was unleashing a dam that have never been broken and was just pouring and pouring ever bit of emotion and feeling I have never done in such a way before. It was both freeing and hard. I felt comfortable sharing, but it was also hard for the words to come out. I always thought, if I speak it into existence, it becomes real and true. And I never wanted to admit my demons. I never wanted to admit my problems and how I struggled everyday just to get out of bed and do things. I was most afraid of what they were going to do with me if I admitted my suicidal thoughts. I was afraid they would call my parents and I would be committed to a  mental hospital and all my dreams were over. I thought if that would to happen, I might actually do it and off myself. Once they told me that it was ok to admit my feelings and that my parents were never called the next day, I realized I could relax and that I can actually do this. The first few sessions were the darkest.  Once I started medication two months after, I had an extremely quick reaction to it. I begun to feel level-headed within two days of taking it. I didn't feel happy, but I didn't feel depressed. It was a balance I never actually knew for more than 2 days at most at a time. It expanded into a week that turned into months. My suicidal thoughts became almost nonexistent. The most it ever became was just wanting to not exist for a period of time and return when I am ready. I didn't think about death every day. I hardly do anymore really. I hardly feel sad either. I just feel level-headed most days. This is the strangest and most surreal feeling I have ever had. I'm still not sure what to make of it. All I know is that, I am grateful for the progress I have made. I never truly thought I was going to get better. I thought I would feel sad forever until I die. Don't get me wrong, I do not think my depression has gone away. Just that I have a better grip at controlling it now. I am now able to recognize that my suicidal thoughts weren't actually normal. It takes a lot to make me sad or upset, unlike before when all it took was one tiny mishap for me to fully blow over into the darkest of depressive episodes. It took like a month before I felt sad again and it only lasted for like 2 days at most. And it was never on the level of my normal depressive episodes. It was very light and I actually thought positively that the next day will be better. And it did.  I can still enjoy my sad music and movies without actually getting sad or having to be sad, which is strange to me. I can somehow feel happy even with hearing the most depressing of music. I still enjoy watching dark shows and getting deep into it. When I do get sad, however, the biggest point is thinking of how, maybe I should be doing something else. I have a feeling that I don't actually know what I am doing, I am just making things up as I go and going along with whatever is happening. It can get quite existential. But also beautiful. I think there is a beauty in not knowing what you are doing. The more mistakes you make, the more you learn. And you get to enjoy the things along the way. I appreciate more of the little things. I look forward to sundays where I spend time with my family. I love my family more. I enjoy my walks in the town center. I love sitting on benches and listening to my music and watching people and cars pass me by. I imagine I am in the movies sometimes and add a dreamy quality to my every day life. I enjoy laying down in the gym in between breaks of doing reps. I compare myself less to people and find value in myself again. I don't hate myself as much as I used to anymore, if I still do. One thing that has changed that I don't quite enjoy, is the lack of writing. Ever since I have gotten better, I have been writing less and less. I don't know if my writing in the first place was a result of my depression or if I actually had a talent for it and now I'm beginning to question if I am a writer at all. How do people make art when they aren't sad? How does that happen? I have hardly ever written anything without feeling depressed. So, who am I then? Do I have to lose a part of myself that I enjoy for me to be happy? I guess there is always a price for everything. The other thing, that has made 2018 particularly sad, was that it has been a whole year without seeing my best friend. I still find myself, even with my mental health at its best it has ever been, feeling sad whenever I think about it has been so long and not knowing when I will see my best friend again. A lot of good things has happened to me, but this is an enormous thing that I still face often. When I hear particular songs, walking from class to class, in the store, at home. And that is when I write again. I think it is some cruel cosmic joke that I can be happy, but also not have one thing that I would trade anything for. I don't know. I'm not perfect. I never was. 

1. January. 2019. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

i understand now.

i used to think that people who took drugs, smoked, drank, partied, and had sex a lot were bad people. i thought they were all horrible people who created their own addictions and demons. i thought i was above them. i now realize that that is simply not true. cos i grew up. i truly realized how fucked up the world is and how fucking hard it is to live, how fucking hard life is, and how fucking miserable everything can get. so i don’t blame them. i would do all of it too if i could. because i don’t care about myself and i don’t care about what happens to me anymore. i realize how empty i can be and how alone and misunderstood i could be. i realize, this is the price of living. who could blame them. i think we all know how stupid it is to do all of them but when you just don’t care anymore, it doesn’t matter, i would rather be fucked up than having to deal with shit. it’s just a way of coping. it’s not like anyone really cares. 

they say they care but they don’t really mean it. they still want you to act a certain way and to stay in your lane and forget about dreaming. this is how i feel. i am not allowed to feel anything. i have to act like everything is ok. i have to act like i am appreciative of everything. if i have a problem, it is insignificant even though it drives me to wanting to die everyday. nothing can be as bad as their problems. depression isn’t real, it is all in my head. i created it. yeah, fuck that. 

i wish i was braver. i wish i could stand up to them and tell them i will live my life the way i want it. but i can’t. i don’t know how. i am too scared. and i am snared by their words every time. god, i hate my life. i don’t really have one. because i gave my all to them. i don’t get to live my own life. they tell me what to do and i listen. they tell me where to go to school. they tell me when i have to be home and do this and that. im pretty sure they’ll tell me who to marry. im pretty sure they’ll tell me when to have children and how many. im sure they’ll arrange everything for me without asking what i think because i am too young to know these things or to have opinions. 

they only do it to protect me and not make mistakes. but what happens when they are gone? i’ll be too old to make those mistakes and i will make mistakes because i’m not perfect. and those mistakes will be fatal. why can’t i just be allowed to fuck up for once, to make those mistakes so that i could learn it for myself and not do it. it’s better to do it now than later when i have no one (even though i don’t have anyone now). i am going to miss all the fun experiences. i am never going to have those college experiences my friends are having. i will never know how it is to live in a dorm. i won’t know what it is like to go to a college party. all i will know is how to take care of a baby, what it is like to go to school, and what it is like to go to work. all the hard things, all the hard times. i will not have the good times. 

so, im just going to fuck myself up even more. i deny myself happiness. i refuse to marry anyone. i refuse to have children. the line will die with me. they’ll have to look to my brothers for grandchildren. i won’t give anymore because i already gave everything to them. i gave up my life to please them. i gave up my own dreams, my own things i want to do just for the sake of pleasing them.

im just going to work myself into an early grave if i don’t kill myself before then. im going to avoid everyone all together. i will sever all ties from people and avoid making friendships and only use relationships to manipulate people to get what i want. i am a vengeful spirit. they will all get what they deserve. they will all get theirs. i live now in spite of them. i refuse to be kind. i refuse to be ambitious. i refuse to be happy. i refuse to care. what else can i do?

9. November. 17. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

I think I’m done.

With everything. Ok, maybe not everything. This feeling will go away. But this sentiment will remain, I’ve been meditating on it for a year now and since I’m still thinking about it and no one has proved me wrong, I guess maybe time makes it true. I told myself to give at least 24 hours and that if this thought is still there, then maybe it is legitimate and that it is fine to be angry and/or sad and/or whatever the fuck feeling I’m feeling is. What I think is that I don’t really have friends anymore, again.

This is going to be incoherent, as it usually is when I am emotional, so please bare with me. The “friends” I’ve had haven’t really talked to me in a year. Sure, they give me like a text but it’s a short conversation and it’s like during the break between semesters. I just think that they do it because they feel socially obligated to because of common courtesy and our previous history of friendship. Know this, anyone that reads it, you don’t owe ANYONE anything unless they saved your life or something. You are not obligated to speak to someone that has been your friend in the past, you don’t need to talk because you feel like you have to. So please, stop doing that. It hurts more knowing that than actually not speaking to me anymore, I would prefer you not speak to me anymore if this is how you feel. Also, another reason I think why people even bother talking to me is that they need a favor or something. Which is true. NOBODY has texted me “how are you?” without a follow-up question like “can you help me with so and so.” Sometimes, they just jump right to the question. Which I prefer also because I just want to skip the bullshit and insincerity. Don’t bother asking me how I am doing if you don’t really care and just doing it because you feel that it is the right thing to do. Fuck being polite, I’d rather you be honest and rude than fucking fake and nice. Don’t bother asking questions that you don’t even care of knowing the answers to. Even though I strongly feel this, I still turn out to be a fool and help them when I should of just blocked them out. I should learn to take my own advice. Even the one friend I talked to many times doesn’t respond to my texts anymore. We don’t talk like we used to anymore. Maybe I was too negative, maybe I dumped too much of my baggage on her and expected her to solve them for me even when I said I just wanted someone to listen but maybe listening to shit over and over again often is too tiring and taxing for one person. 

If my “friends” read this, I expect they’ll say something along the lines of “oh how can I if I’m busy with my college classes, extracurriculars, and my own friends?” Well, let me enlighten you. You ALWAYS make time for the people you care about. You just do. Every summer, I always make time everyday to contact my mother somehow even being across the country and across the ocean this year. Be it by text or even just a 2 minute conversation, I make time to say “I love you” and/or to say what I’m doing and that I’m safe. That person may not be your parents but I know for a fact that there is at least one person you care about in this world. Unless you live isolated completely from civilization or something, almost every person in this world has at least one person they care about and would die for. And I know for a fact that you make time for them, no matter how short it is and how infrequent. And most importantly, you do it not because you feel like you have a responsibility or something but because you care so much about them to make it known your love and affection for him/her. So please, don’t come at me with that weak-ass excuse that you don’t have time. Instead, say that you don’t care anymore or that we’ve grown apart or something. Be an adult now, that’s who we are now. Stop being petty and be honest with yourself and me. 

Also, I realize it’s always been me that’s been trying to keep the friendship alive, or at least save it. Let me tell you something, I made a little social experiment for myself this year. In the past, I have almost always been the first person to ask to hangout and organizing when to meet and stuff. This past year, I let it be and just wait for them to ask me instead since it’s always been me. If we’re really friends, then they should also try and make an effort to hangout with me, right? Well, my little social experiment confirmed what I believed all along: it’s just me. It’s just me trying to be the friend. I’ve only been asked like 2 times in the past year to hangout. And I know they’ve been hanging out with each other more than 2 times, it’s like several times a week. So yea, my friendships seem to have been artificial all throughout high school. I was a fool to think that people I see 5 times a week were real friends. 

Maybe it’s my own fault. When people do ask to hangout, 90% of the time I have to decline because of my parents so I guess it makes sense to not bother asking when you know the answer, right? I guess I’m just hurting a lot right now. “Friends” ask me how I’m doing like once a year then go back to their regular friends and continue like fucking saints. 

Then there is my best friend. I love her, so much. But, it hurts realizing now, that it’s practically over. We can’t go back to the way it used to be anymore. We’ve grown up and grown apart. I’m happy for her though, she’s so much happier now where she is and that’s what I want for her, she deserves the world and everything good that comes with it. We’ll still hangout when possible but, we’ll never be like it was. It’s time to move on and grow up.

Maybe this is the time I’m supposed to make new friends, like everyone else. Then maybe I won’t be so miserable. I put myself in this situation, no one else did. I can’t blame anyone else but myself. At least some good has come out of this. I’m growing up enough to realize when it’s time to change and make new friends. However, the dark part of me is growing stronger though. It has made me more cynical. I’m more critical of people I meet because of what I just described here. I’m more closed to people now and less likely to open my arms for someone just because I feel like they’re gonna use me and just self-serving. I don’t know how I’m going to rebuild my trust and faith in people again. I’ve also grown more apathetic and hiding it even better than I learned how to. My bouts of depression come frequently, always when nothing bad has happened and only good things are happening, no reason to be depressed but still am. 

I don’t know anymore. I think I’m just tired of dealing with fake people and giving people what they want when they won’t do the same with me. That’s why I’m done. I’m done entertaining plastic. I’m done being the one trying to salvage friendships when the other person isn’t even willing to try either. In this year since high school graduation, I love my self-reflection, even if it’s sunk me deeper in darkness. Because now, I’m more honest than ever with myself and with people. And I pursuit the truth more than anything else and that has made me brighter. In this search for truth, I’m realizing what is real and who to cut off. Only thing left is to actually use the truth. 

I know it’s not Friday but I don’t care anymore. I’m just going to post whenever I feel like it. 

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

loser.

hi guys. its been a few months. gonna update on a few things. then ultimately vent on my feelings like always.

started at a new school for the last time, transferred from community college to university. it is a big change. so much harder than where I came from but somehow, im surviving so far. made a couple of friends. they’re nice I guess. and we help each other, doing projects together and studying. I wish they were ‘smarter’ than me so I could ask for help instead of helping. not to say that I think im smart or anything, I will never think that no matter what people say to me. I just always seem to be helping people more than people helping me, like always. that never changed. I mean, nobody wants to help take care of me so why should I care about myself or what happens to me if no one gives a shit about me anyway. sorry, im not really pissed at them or anything. I guess generally im pissed at everything.

I thought my 20s would be exciting, or at least better than this. I thought I would have more fun, go to parties and have friends to hang out with outside of school. nope, hasn’t changed. I still go home everyday and live with my parents. I do my homework. I drive two hours everyday commuting back and forth so that is new. not what I want. I have an 8am class with no other time besides that so I wake up 3 hours before to get there on time. I thought I would meet someone and finally be in a relationship but all my sign readings are way off and nobody actually likes me so there’s that. 

I started counseling. it’s really nice, I think it’s one of the few things I actually look forward to in my life currently. it makes me feel good to talk to someone without fear of judgement. I feel good being able to talk freely without someone telling me that im doing something wrong and that their way is the only just way because that makes me very unhappy and depressed and I just feel like dying. 

I think of dying frequently. I wish I was dead already. being dead would allow me to not think anymore of how much of a loser I am. always at home doing homework and chores. then i’ll graduate one day, get a job, and retire and die alone. yeah, whoever said life is a gift, yeah all that is worth it to be alive motherfucker! 

I pray frequently for the Lord to take my life already because all this worrying about failure and what to do next and never being who I truly am is fucking exhausting. I just want it all to end and stop existing. 

27. September. 18. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

I really do find it hard to find real people.

It’s amazing to meet people who give a shit about real shit. Most people I meet today, and people that I’ve been friends with who changed since we last met, want to either smoke weed, get drunk, have sex, or party or any combination of those three. Most people are empty with empty dreams and empty lives. It’s hard for me to accept that the reason you went to college was for education when all I hear from you is how wasted you’ve been or how tired you’ve been partying from all night long.

Is this all there is people my age have to offer? What happened to the angst and ambition of wanting to not be a cliché? You all have become what you said you never would be. You all became a blank canvas with blank expressions expressing nothing more than material pleasure. You all became just like everybody else. I’m annoyed and irritated by the hypocrisy of humanity, well I guess more so by children trying to act like they’re grown when they’re not. 

I know that it doesn’t matter, that I shouldn’t care about what others do, and that it isn’t any of my business what other people do in their spare time but I’m still really livid about all this. I want to talk about real shit. I want to talk about life and be philosophical. I want to talk about art: movies, tv shows, literature, and all the mediums through which art is expressed. I want to talk about the future and dreams and ambition. I want to talk about what’s after all this and what is the point of all this. I want to be real and I want to talk to real people who aren’t plastic and fake and want to feel real emotions and be a real human just for one day at least. I want to be surrounded by artists and thinkers and dreamers and lovers and real-life, breathing humans that care about the past, present, and future. I’m surrounded by the wrong people. Every. Single. Day. And I can’t really do anything about it at the moment because I need to endure this for my future’s sake, so I’ll trudge on. I’ll take the shit that is of human scum spewing conformist crap everyday. Only for the remainder of this semester though, hopefully. Hopefully the new people I’ll work with will be different this time. 

I want to be surrounded by, people like me! People like me who aren’t like everyone else in the sense of partying, drinking, smoking, etc. They exist, don’t they? I already have a few of those people under my belt. But I want more. 

So, I hope one day that will happen. I hope that I’ll gather the strength and have the guts to make this a reality and put these people by my side. I hope I’ll be able to easily let go of all those people and bring in the people I want. That’s a dream I’ll be looking forward to completing. 

It’s been a long time since we’ve spoken, I know. But remember, I didn’t promise I’ll put a post out every week on this blog! I’m posting for whenever I feel like it or else this will feel like a job and I never want to feel this way or I’ll just stop trying to be recognized for my art, which is ultimately what I want. Anyway, I hope ya’ll enjoyed this rant lol. I hope that you all can relate too. If you enjoyed reading this, please like, reblog, and follow for future posts. When I do post, they’ll usually be up on Fridays EST. I also post poems on the blog, “lfernandezpoetry” on that same date and around the same time journals like this come up. If anything, poems are much more likely to be posted than these journals because I have an easier time writing poems than spilling my bare thoughts here. I try to post both a poem and a journal but sometimes its just hard to write a journal, especially if I have already discussed them in a poem so I’m exhausted from feelings then. You get my point now I’ll stop lol. I’ll see you guys next time, bye!

17. March. 17. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

i fucking hate being alive.

i do. it’s too much to keep going everyday. it’s too much keeping tabs on everything and it’s fucking horrible to be treated this way, making one mistake and getting blasted for it and having to do everything everyday. 

here is one thing i learned about people: they all just want something from you. no one is excluded from this, even your entire family wants something. they all want a piece of you and you give it to them until you have nothing to give and even then, they will grow angry and beat you down. they won’t understand until you die. and in death will people only appreciate you. no one appreciates each other truly. no one remembers the good things a person has done for them, they won’t recollect it in conversations. it is far easier to dig up dirt from the past and throw it in your face. it happens much more frequently and with ease. whether for revenge, play, or anger. when you give them something good, they will feel entitled for it forever. it is just one thing to another, an endless cycle that can never be satisfied and thus the wheel continues to spin. 

i hate being manipulated by my parents. they will deny this but they should know better. i am made to feel guilt if i don’t do things their way even though i am already 20 years old, an adult. i can never do things without asking permission. so why do i bother, i never leave the house. i don’t have friends anyway. i wanted to go to my dream university. they made me feel guilt so i could attend school near home and i gave into it. i gave up the once-in-a-lifetime true college experience. i won’t know what a true party is. i won’t know what it is like to stay out late on the town and have fun. all i will ever know is how miserable just working and studying is. i don’t care for love, for family. they will probably arrange for me to meet a girl of their friends and settle down with her and have kids. i swear, that is one thing i will never allow. i will never allow them to emotionally guilt me into marrying someone i don’t love and have kids. i pray to god that i can resist that. and i will die not knowing what life is worth living for. 

i truly hope i will die alone. it will at least be a fine compromise for living in my parent’s smothering shadow. 

i just want to fucking die. i fucking hate being alive. i fucking hate being alive just for some people to not cry and be fucked up for the rest of their lives over my suicide. i fucking hate living for other people. when do i get to live for my fucking self? when do i get to fucking make my own choices and actually be a goddamn adult? will i ever even get the chance? i just want to jump off buildings or cut my wrists in the bathtub. i just want to swallow a bottle of pills. i fucking hate being on this goddamn planet and fucking hate myself for dealing with this bullshit everyday of my fucking life. i hate being a fucking waste of space. i fucking hate wasting everyday to please my parents. i fucking hate going to school. i fucking hate not doing what i truly want. i fucking hate it. i fucking hate everything, i fucking hate everyone. 

i fucking hate myself. 

15. February. 18. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

Stream of Consciousness

I’ve been in a weird state. Like, I’m in my happy stage but sporadically throughout the day I feel a bit of sadness. Is that normal? It’s like I’m fighting to be happy everyday but there is a part of me that doesn’t want to. I admit being sad is easier than being happy though. If you’ve been sad for so long, you start to grow comfortable and actually would prefer being sad than being happy since it is all you know. I understand that feeling. Maybe I’m growing up. Or maybe I’m getting better at handling my depression or bipolar disorder, I definitely know I have a mental illness. Or maybe it’s getting worse and I’m heading back towards my sad phase. I don’t know. I realize that I say that a lot, “I don’t know.” Like I’ve just given up on thinking and trying, which I do often. But I still think so much and deeply. Anyway, there is this song that I heard fully for once, I heard it many times but I never fully committed myself to hearing it fully until yesterday and I think that is what causing me to feel this way lately. The song is called “Heaven” by Troye Sivan. I watched the video which made me listen to it fully, it came out yesterday. The imagery is beautiful and powerful and just makes me so sad that I can’t be like that, free and open to everyone about who I truly am. It just hits me so hard, especially the lyrics “counting to 15.” I understand it so much and I feel it everyday. If you listen to it, you’ll understand my pain.

Oh, I remember where I’m getting to, the point of this post. I just don’t feel completely like myself yet. I am so much braver and bolder and more real now than ever before, but there is still one part of me I have left. I fully accept it but I want to tell someone but I know they will hurt me and feel hurt themselves. But it is a part of me I can’t deny. It is me. But I know I would be disowned if I ever admitted it. But I just want to be happy if I meet that type of person someday and want to be with them. I’m even being secretive here of what I mean when I’m 99% sure they won’t even find it here to read. I hope you guys can infer what I mean. I feel like I’m drowning. How is it that being yourself is so hard to do? 

That was all jumbled up. But at least you guys can see how my mind works and that I’m literally saying all that is in my mind in the order it comes. You know that I am real and honest. I hope you guys can understand me. If you enjoyed reading this, please reblog and love it, it would mean the world to me. Also, I posted another poem this week on my poetry blog, “lfernandezpoetry.” It would mean so much if you guys can go to it and read it and give it love as well. Thank you for reading and I’ll see you guys next week on this day, Friday, at around the same time for another post and poem (hopefully, I regularly post now). Much love.

20. January. 17. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

To be honest.

“When people tell me that they’ve been accepted to a college or something, I’m usually “congratulations!” but I don’t really mean it (for most people anyway). I say that because I truly didn’t doubt them. I knew they were going to be accepted because I knew they were capable, brilliant, and well-rounded. Of course I would be happy too if I was the one receiving an acceptance letter but secretly I knew it would never happen. The only time I’m ever going to say “great job” sincerely is when someone does something totally unexpected and/or something that will truly impress me.

I don’t know why I’m lying and being fake when I say “great job.” I know it’s the fear of being hated on and likely being told “well you didn’t get an acceptance letter from UF, you’re going to a community college, so who are you to talk” or I’m going to be told to be happy for them. Yea yea whatever. I just don’t know why I have to care or why I actually do care about what other people think of me and how I should control my behavior. I just want to be myself and actually show my true emotions in situations like this where I don’t have to fake being happy or sad for others. I wish society was more accepting of that than creating these standards on how to act for like every situation that happens. 

I’m sorry I’m being pretentious but I don’t give a fuck. I’m being honest right now.”

That was from February 13, 2016 at 7:39 AM. It is January 13, 2017 at 9:48 PM and counting. I’ve come across this note I’ve made on my phone like all others I do. I progressed from writing on deviantart to an actual journal to writing on my phone and now here as well. Anyway, I occasionally look through my poems and philosophical ideas I put on notes on my phone and I thought it would be a good one to think about for this week and reflect how I’ve changed since this moment. I also look through it for journals here but most of them are recent or even if it is old, I still have the same opinion on it. This one, however, I think I’ve changed from it. Reading that makes me cringe. It sounds so juvenile and stereotypically teenage angsty-esque even though I’m still a teenager. Now, I feel like I am more honest and open with people. I still say “good job” when I don’t mean it but less frequently (probably because I don’t really talk to anyone since I haven’t really made friends in college but still). I say things on my mind and whatever I want more without caring what other people are saying while still maintaining being professional with teachers and my boss. I’m more open to who I am with people, even if I don’t really know them. I am out at public more and I don’t really care if I meet people from high school there. I feel more free and honest to myself and others and that makes me happy. Just one year can change a person. I wonder who I’ll be in 10 years.

I hope you enjoyed that and seeing my thoughts from a year ago to now. It was interesting to me. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog if you liked what you read. I also posted another poem this week on my blog, “lfernandezpoetry” so please check it out, it would mean the world to me. I usually post on Fridays at EST on this blog and my poetry blog so if you ever wonder when to expect when new content comes up, well now you know! Thank you so much!

13. January. 17. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

Back to Normal?

This is the last Friday and will be the last weekend before I go back to class Monday. Reflecting on break, I think it was different. I know now what life is like on breaks in college. It’s like the same thing I did in high school but somehow it feels different. I feel more disconnected with my friends, even my best friend. Am I just realizing who my true friends are? If I am, I don’t really have any. I wanted to hang out with my best friend again but I was ignored. Then, I tested to see if my question would be answered by texting again “hi” and we started a conversation with her ignoring my previous text because you HAD to have seen it when scrolling through our conversation. Is three days out of four weeks the max to hang out with people? I don’t know. That upset me a lot. I wish I hanged out more times but there is no use wishing for things to be different. I can only change now. However, I find out I will be going to Italy in May!!! I am so excited. This is one of the things I want to do with my life: travel the world. I now have something to look forward to. I guess that is what makes me happy: having something to do. If I don’t, I become bored and depressed. Anyway, back to what I was discussing, yeah, it feels different. It’s like break me is switching back to working me and they’re like two different people. I really don’t want to go back, I’m tired lol. But, have to keep moving forward if I want to do things on my own. 

There isn’t really anything readable in that lol. I’m sorry. But, I still hope you enjoyed reading. Please reblog and love this if you liked it. I also posted another poem today on my blog “lfernandezpoetry” and please go read it if you are interested. It is quite different from my other poems. It is still as potent and powerful but different in tone. It made me very happy. I appreciate you for reading. I usually posts on Fridays EST on this blog and my poetry blog so if you want something to read again, please check there that day. Thank you!

6. January. 17. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

jaded.

im tired.

it’s been a crazy semester and im halfway through. it’s been fun, kind of. but I feel so overwhelmed. everyone is telling me these things that I should be doing. I should be volunteering. I should join clubs. I should get internships. I should go out and meet new people. I should figure out everything and know who I already am and im just tired of it. how am I supposed to figure everything out already when I hardly even lived. im only 21. im barely out of high school, halfway through college. most people at 30 doesn’t even know what they want to do with their life!! how can you expect me to know already?

I just want everyone to shut the fuck up and let me get by on my own pace. 

18. October. 2018. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

ignored.

i am jealous. i am envious. i am ignored. i am used.

why is it that i always do things for everyone else, but when i want something i am ignored? i always have to do this and i have to do that. i wanted to move to university. i was shamed and made to feel guilt until i gave up that to live at home. my neighbor’s son got to move to university and even though his parents miss him, they are ultimately proud of him and are happy for him. why can’t that happen to me? am i undeserving? am i unworthy?

my opinion doesn’t matter. what i think doesn’t mean shit. i am always forced to do things i don’t want to do. if i go against it, i am emotionally manipulated until i do what they say. they make me feel guilt by saying things like “oh of course, you don’t care about your brother, he is only your half-brother” and shit like that. well, doesn’t anyone care about me? am i nothing in this family? does anything i do mean anything anymore? 

i always try to never intervene in family arguments. because ultimately what i say doesn’t mean jack shit. no one couldn’t care less what i have to say. so why should i offer my thoughts if it’s just going to be ignored anyway? 

i am not excited about the future. i used to be. i have college paid off for essentially. i have good grades. i can get a job easily when i graduate, regardless of what they have to say. but all i can think of is the reality. i have to get up very early to drive to school to sit through traffic. i’ll have so much homework that i am unsure of how i am going to handle that along with driving at least 2 hours everyday. i feel like i am going to die of exhaustion. i feel like either i’ll barely make it or die trying. why can’t people see i have needs too? 

im always told that if i have a problem, i can tell them. but whenever i do, they just chalk it up to me not appreciating what i have and to get over it. this is why i don’t bother talking about anything with them anymore. i can never complain. i don’t have the right to feel sad because everything is given to me. mental illness is not real. i am weak.

why doesn’t anyone care about me?

5. July. 2018. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

nostalgic

do you also get nostalgic from time to time?

i think nostalgia is a funny little, strange feeling. it’s a mixture of pain and joy, a bittersweet combination. i go down a hole of flurrying euphoria re-experiencing a certain situation that quickly devolves into a confusing mess of longing to return to the past and lastly, shutting down. i just try to shut it off as fast as i can before i end up loathing myself for several days or weeks, success of which varies. 

there are certain songs, movies, and memories i can’t linger on too long before nostalgia hits me with its waves. for example, i started to watch clips of ladybird and i went through all the emotions. ladybird is a complicated movie for me. it hits all the notes of my real life, a little too on the nose i might add. i feel less lonely knowing other people can create art in which they go through the same things i do and that makes me feel a little bit better. but through that understanding, i also get sad at parts of the movie where in those parts, i never got and it makes me wish i did, but i feel like i never will. on a personal note, it was the last thing i did with my best friend so i associate it with her. it brings me joy, remembering the last time i was with her. and it also brings me pain, not knowing when i will see her again and the future looks precarious to me now. so, i can barely stand to watch that movie. i love that movie so much. it is a masterpiece. but, i just can’t because of personal reasons. i can’t watch call me by your name again but that’s for a different reason. it brings me shame in that i think i can never be confident enough to be brave like elio and oliver. i think i will never get what they have because i feel that i am undeserving. the only way for me to be that way is when my parents are gone from this world and by then, i think it’s too late. who would want to be with me then?

26. June. 2018. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

autonomy

im tired of being powerless over my own existence.

i don’t know what it’s like to have at least some sort of degree over yourself. i feel like i’m always going to be told what to do for the rest of my life. it makes me jealous seeing other people my age and younger being able to do what they want to do. im 20 years old and have no say in anything. im barely holding on. im jealous of my neighbor from across the street for having the permission to move away to university. his parents will miss him but they support him. am i undeserving to have that kind of support? what did i do? have i not done enough? i beat everyone to become valedictorian of my community college. i won the most scholarships during senior year of high school. i always came home on time and took care of my younger brothers. i guess that doesn’t mean shit.

i guess this is where i get my hopeless attitude. no matter what i do, everything remains the same. i get nothing. while other people that hasn’t done much get more. why can’t i just die already? im tired of being alive. im tired of feeling pity for myself. just cut the cord and let me go. 

why can’t i just get better? when will i stop being treated like shit? i just feel like my “success” doesn’t mean shit. it all feels meaningless to me. being alive is a joke. i was always disillusioned to think i had any control over myself.

i see pictures of friends enjoying life. going to festivals, going to parties, studying together in the library or just hanging out at the dorms or whatever. it makes me sad knowing i’ll never get to have that. it makes me sad college was just studying and no fun. and then i’ll get a job, and work until i retire. then i will wait until i die. you can’t blame me for thinking my life is meaningless from that. what is the point of living if all im going to do is that? just work and no play. i will have no children. i will marry no one. i decided that already. i don’t want to be told who to marry and i don’t want to be told when to have kids and how many cos i just know i will be told that and if i refuse i’ll be emotionally manipulated into doing their will. i just can’t take it anymore. my heart is battered and bruised and wishing it could rip itself out of its chest at this moment. it’ll be the only way for me to exert any control over my life. and this time i won’t let myself be manipulated into changing my mind. cos i do know that my parents will try and force me to change my ways when im in my 30s and still not even have dated anyone by then. they’ll tell me im selfish if i live this way, living for myself and not bringing life into the world but im tired of living for other people. i have always lived for everyone else but do i not matter? do my feelings mean nothing? my needs and wants are acceptable to be dismissed and ignored. because i don’t fucking matter. im a fucking waste of space. that’s all i am. 

12. June. 2018. LF

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

not enough

no matter what you do or how much you’ve proven yourself, you will never be good enough.

at least that’s how im treated. 

i did so much. i was valedictorian of my class. i got home at curfew. i gave up my dream school. i gave up friends. i gave up my life. i gave up being alive. i gave up being human. im so empty. i feel nothing.

i thought it was enough but i fail to learn it’s never enough. 

i wanted to go to my dream school away from here, it just happened to be away from here. i wanted to have the college experience. i gave it up to go to college near home. i gave it up because my parents inflicted guilt upon me which i could not beat. i couldn’t beat it. 

and now, somehow, im inflicted guilt for driving to college back and forth even though that’s what they forced me to do so you know, you just can’t fucking win. i don’t understand how you can make someone feel bad for doing something you told them to do. that’s hypocritical, that’s unfair. 

they told me they wanted me to stay to guide me so i won’t do drugs and stuff. but i guess being pushed to suicide is better than being drawn to those things so good job. 

i just really want to die. my accomplishments mean nothing if i continue to be treated like shit no matter how much i try to please everyone and do what they want me to do. it’s fucking unfair, brutal, and inhumane. 

i just feel like they’re asking me to lay down and die and i already feel that way. i just want to shoot myself in the head. i just want to swallow a bottle of pills. i just want to get in the bathtub and slit my wrists.

7. May. 2018. LF.

[lazerbeamzlifeblog]

jealousy

jealousy is a funny little thing.

im still so jealous of the one i have unrequited feeling for for having the highest grade in my physics class. i don’t know why im so jealous, im usually not jealous cos usually i don’t care but im very envious of him now. i want to beat him but im just not as smart as him. maybe that’s it, my hatred of my inferiority to him. realizing im not the smartest person in my class for once. i don’t know, somehow it made me love him even more. he’s perfect and this hurts even more knowing i’ll never have him. whatever, i hope this feeling goes away so i can be sober once again. 

im on spring break now and i was looking forward to it but now im extremely bored. i don’t know what im going to do. however, im feeling like charli xcx in her mixtape cover for pop2. just look it at it and maybe you’ll understand what i mean.

for once this wasn’t so depressing, don’t count on it being this way from now on though for future posts.

bye bye lovelies.

16. March. 18. LF