How To Remember The Good And Forget The Bad?

Hi. Cellophane here.

I should apologize for my last post. I was extremely aggravated with my home situation, but I will not delete it because that would be dishonest. I’m only human and I can’t hide the way I feel sometimes.

I’ve been better than that last time I was on here. The problems aren’t gone, but at least I’m still alive and physically able to change things. As I’ve said before, I have a lot of money problems.

My family is killing me slowly, but I can’t change the people in my life only my reaction to them. I’ve been trying to apply Mel Robbin’s 5-4-3-2-1 method, but sometimes I just think, “What now?”

So how do you remember the good and forget the bad?

You can’t forget the bad because it helps balance out the good. You have to embrace the bad to appreciate the good. Just like my last post, I have to embrace that those dark feelings exist within me. At the same time, I have to understand that the days that are good may be few and spread far apart, but they do come and I’ve had several over my lifetime.

Try not to get hung up on the bad vs good dichotomy of life. I’ll try to do the same and just live. Maybe coasting in the middle of these two extremes, but still living.

Thanks for reading!

How Do You Bounce Back After A Shitty Day?

Hi. Cellophane here.

I hate when my mother drinks. She’s not a drunk per se, but every time she drinks it drives me fucking insane. I’m sorry if I cuss more than normal, but I can’t take it anymore. My whole life I’ve tried to help my parents, my mom especially, but I can’t help someone who’s so far gone. It’s a fucking mess. It’s all a fucking mess.

My mom’s been through a lot of shit and I should be understanding, but how much shit do I have to shovel before I get through to her? How many times do I have to plead with her that drinking isn’t going to chase the fucking demons away?

I’m trying to make sense of my life, but I can’t take any more of her shit piled on top of my shit. I can’t. I won’t. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Who do I turn to? Who the fuck is supposed to help me in my time of need? God won’t hear my prayers because he lets her continue to fuck up her own self by letting her give in to her vices. A psychologist won’t do shit because it’s all talk and cost a shit ton of money.

The only thing I want to do these days is end my life, but I can’t. I fucking can’t because of my siblings. Who are they going to lean on? I’m so fucking tired.

I’m sorry for ranting like a lunatic, but I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know who to ask for help.

If I was brought into this life for this shit, then fuck it all to hell.

Fuck it all.

 

 

How To Take Your Broken Heart And Make It Into Art

Hi. Cellophane here.

I’ve been trying to be more positive in my life and forget all the issues I have so that I can move forward and do better. I don’t know if I’m doing a good job, but I’m trying. There was a time in my youth where I used to cut myself. Nowadays, I just can’t bring myself to do it because it doesn’t relieve my stress anymore. Even if I bleed and get that rush of dopamine that I so desperately need to stay afloat, it won’t make my problems go away. I’ve had to learn the hard way that problems never leave so you have to embrace them.

People come and go every day and it makes me wonder what I will leave behind when I die. What will be my legacy or my one bit of history that will define future generations? It’s moments like these that remind me of Carrie Fisher’s quote, “Take your broken heart and make it into art.”

My heart has been broken since I was 9 years old when I witnessed things no child should have to see and have had to deal with the consequences of my parent’s failed marriage for the last 17 years of my life. How can you piece together your soul when it’s being ripped apart in so many directions without stopping?

I swear to you that I’m trying to be positive, but sometimes I just wonder how easy life would be if I had successfully killed myself when I was 12. My brother would’ve been an only child, maybe my parents would’ve recapacitated and solved their problems. My sister wouldn’t have been born and wouldn’t have to suffer the heartbreak of having two parents who can’t even be in the same room.

A lot of things would be different, but I can’t change the past. I can only change the way I perceive it and use it to fuel my desire to do better in the future.

We’ll see.

Chester Bennington Saved My Life Through Music

Hi. Cellophane here.

A couple of days ago, I woke up to the news that the lead singer of one of my favorite bands was dead. His name was Chester Bennington and he saved my life through music. Through the band Linkin Park, I was able to survive my teenage years as my home became a battleground between my constantly bickering parents.

Chester’s voice was my sanctuary. Every single song he sang was a way to escape my life. I could put on my headphones and numb myself to sleep with his music. His words reflected a lot of the feelings I had growing up in a dysfunctional family where drugs, alcohol, and infidelity ran rampant.

I have no words to describe how I feel except I’m sorry. I’m sorry he chose to end it because it means this life was unable to give him a sense of peace. I thank him for all of his music and the passion he gave to his fans in every single word he sang. I will never forget the immense help he provided me when I was younger and hope he’s in a better place.

RIP Chester Bennington. May your soul rest among the angels somewhere over the rainbow.

Thank you for everything.

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