#therogueoflights

I've never really had FRIENDS before. I had one friend growing up. I wish I wasn't lying, but in all honesty I had one person I ever called a friend, and they destroyed my trust. That person really sculpted me out to be the person I am. I say this is good and bad ways. The good ways are that they got me into drawing and anime and just making me feel like I was needed. However, they stepped all over my trust. They broke it to the point where I have such trouble believing anyone. The first thought when someone tells me something that sounds either intense or even the slight bit off I instantly start questioning if they are doing it for attention or what are their motives? Added to that in many of the schools I have attended, many people would only befriend me because I was smart. Which in honestly I'm average. I'm what happens when you simply pay attention and do homework. They would only talk to me because they would get something out of it. 

What I'm getting at is because of this, now I have so many friends and you all are so brilliant in your own ways. And a lot of the time for me it seems to good to be true. I'm that person that things can't go well for too long before something bad happens. Once again, this is not something I am kidding about. I could give you many examples but this will already be incredibly long. So I'm terrified of going back to what I was.  A friendless girl that sat on her computer all day with no one to talk to. This summer I really have felt the distance with my friends widen. And it terrifies me. I suffer from Athazagoraphobia  or the fear of being forgotten or ignored. It terrifies me. I know i'm not a significant person. There is nothing remotely special about me. So many people have just up and just rid themselves of me from their lives without a second thought. And it kills me everyday inside. With a brain like mine it taunts me saying my friends will do that and i'll just be nothing all my life. It's hard to let your heart and other's words win over your brain. 

I grew up with a father who left us early on for better hobbies like alcoholism, a brother with major bipolar disorder, a mom who really shouldn't be a mother because she is too selfish and lazy, and myself who was born with a rare lung disease and lived most of her life in fear of dying if she so much as started to get emotional over her math homework. Because of my disorder I was frail and really never caused any troubles as a child. My brother was the one who would get the police called on him on many occasions because my mother did not know how to handle him. He was in and out of treatment centers. He was the center of everyone's attention, maybe not in a good way, but still. Everything always led back to my brother. I was and always will be jealous of him, because no matter how much he hurt this family they would always still talk about him with good expectations. He is the one that could ace a test with perfect marks without studying. He's the one who could land some big job. After being diagnosed with my lung disease my family had more or less been pressuring me to stay at home and do computer work all my life. They never expected much from me. Though I guess looking back, for many years of my life, I was only expected to live so many more years. However, sometimes I thank silently to whatever deities there are that my brother is into drugs and messing up his life, because I know he would be the perfect child, and I'd just be the one that was never quite good enough. At the same time I struggle because since he is into those sort of things my family expect so much out of me. It's hard to explain most of the time into proper words... I don't let myself think about him too often though. He's a butt and really not worth mentioning. How many of you forgot I even have a brother???? All of you? Yeah me too.

Anyways. My lung disease. Is Idiopathic Pulmonary Hemosiderosis, Here and here are the only decent pages about it. More or less when I was seven I was sick a LOT. The doctors at one hospital where just like, it's pneumonia she'll recover go home. However, a nurse happened to see me on my way out and decided that I was not okay. He ordered for chest x-rays and they found that my lungs were filled with blood. I was dying very quickly. On Christmas Eve none the less. I was whisked away via ambulance soon after to Albany Medical Center in New York and the doctors put me in a medicine induced coma so they could figure out what was wrong. Eventually they came in and were like.

"Hey we know what it is!" 

"Oh really what?"

"Idiopathic Pulmonary Hemosiderosis!" 

"And that is?"

"She bleeds in her lungs and we have absolutely no idea why!" Insert doctor doing spirit fingers, because that's what I do.

No one knew what the disease was really. Except for it was rare, and at the time most patients didn't live longer than maybe three years. That was if things went well. Which for me they did. But not after having to learn to re-walk, talk, and much more. I took so many types of medicine I could have been a great drug dealer if I was not seven. Because of my weight I gained a lot of weight. Which of course introduced me to the world of being bullied and ignored because of how i looked.I suffered from an extremely low self esteem. 

The good news on that is the doctor thinks it is possible that I 'grew out' of the disease. If that's possible we don't know. But I haven't had a bleed since I was in fourth grade during Easter. They rake triggers to the disease as stress, but that's not even a definite answer. 

Because of my illness causing my social status to dropped I clinged to my only friend like a life raft. However when you rely on only one person and that person decides to be a huge penis and does a bunch of stupid shit it leads to your life turning into shit. Because of this friend I nearly killed myself. I took at least ten sleeping pills one night. I thought I was ready to end it all. But laying there in that bed, waiting for it to happen was torture. I couldn't do it. Something wasn't right. So I ended up waking my grandmother up and half assing an explanation of what I did.It was very pretty as I had tried to off myself the night of the first day of school in eight grade. And yes eighth grade. We never talk about that time in my family just because I couldn't provide a proper answer as to why  I did it. Since then I haven't tried to do that. I have thought about it many times. Cutting has been a large topic in my head the past two years. But I do not do it. Earlier this year I suffered from Bulimia. I did not tell anyone no does my family know. I got out of it myself after deciding it just wasn't worth it. Among other reasons I do not feel ready yet to explain or feel like people would understand.

I know this just sounds like a bunch of shit all jumbled up. But this is my thought process and just. My thought process is shit. Also it is almost six am.

I came down to Texas because I couldn't handle living with my grandmother and brother anymore.e Figuring a new start would be healthier for me. My mom had moved down here two years previous because of my current step dad (not legally my step dad but yeah) who she met online. I did not want to move down here because I did not want to accept a father figure into my life. However things in New York weren't tip top so I sucked it up and moved down here. Things were going great for the most part. I had made friends in and out of school. My family was getting along. It was all pretty chill.

And then my mom decided to go up to New York and bring an ex boyfriend to stay with us for whatever reason. That was probably the start of so many issues in my family. I had grown really attached to my step dad. He's a really chill guy, awkward, but chill however my step dad and mom were at horrid lengths because of the ex boyfriend being there. I spent most of my summer living with a friend because I could not deal with the fighting and tension that existed in that house. Soon the ex boyfriend finally went back to New York, but the damage was quite clear. My mom told me on countless occasions that I'm the only reason that her and my step dad stay together. And if you don't think that puts a lot of pressure on a kid than piss off okay? No offense and stuff. 

My mom doesn't do anything and my step dad does all the work. She barely cooks proper meals or cleans. She spends most of her days either sleeping or sitting in front of her computer playing Facebook games. She wants, wants,. wants, but never does anything in return. It has always been like that. Now with my grandmother her, my mother took advantage of all of my grandmother's money, and now we have barely enough money to feed ourselves by the time the rent is due and the bills for everything is expected. Everyone is always angry at each other. They all talk bad about each other behind the other's back. They all come to me with their problems. Which ya know i'd rather them get it out that way then end up in a screaming match, but it's still not easy. The past few weeks things have been worse. Today being one of them. My mom is talking about leaving, and so is my step dad. I don't know if either will do it. But it puts me in a bad position. I do not want to live with my mom because she can barely provide for herself. Living with my step dad would be super awkward, and according to my grandmother he might want his son to live with him again? I haven o clue how true that is, but i fucking hate that kid. Ugh. Anyways I also don't want to live with my grandmother because she is racist, closed minded and ugh. But she's the only one that treats me right, but I don't think she could support two people. Especially since i'm going into really expensive college. Everything is just building up in this family. No one wants to talk to anyone and it's horrible. And there's some other bits and pieces that go into that but ugh.

Also i was once told by a French girl that we couldn't be friends because I wasn't pretty enough. 

Okay this is really fucking long and if you got through this congrats you got through a very rough summary of my life. Congrats you win knowing parts about me that not even my family knows about.