Let Me Grow Up! Do you remember when your parents would tell you stories about who they used to be and what they used to do when they were younger? Hearing about their old social groups and what "fun" meant to them. After hearing those stories, I always thought to myself, "If who you were (crazy and experimental) in the past helped you become who you are today, then why do you keep me from experiencing the world for myself?" I am 19 years old who loves to party and make crazy memories. So let me do my thang and then grow up and be able to look back at my #life and smile with satisfaction.

The Fight Nancy Stapp who doesn't like me because I'm friends with her "baby daddy" and has been beefing with me over Facebook since I met Ian maybe five months ago. Tonight, I was out with friends at Arabian Nights (a hookah bar) and she was outside. I wasn't tripping about her because she was gonna beat this girl Maddy (who I hate). But when she didn't fight Maddy, Nancy started on my ass. She started yelling at me about me being ratchet and saying my boobs were ugly and I was hella stupid. I just stood there and took it. I looked away and kept praying she wouldn't hit me. I knew it might happen but I was in shock so I just stood there. Then she grabbed my shoulder and tried to get me heated. I just moved and then she kept grabbing my jaw and throat. I tired to nudge her away because I knew I couldn't push her with her being pregnant. I could feel her thumb on my throat press harder and harder. Luckily this girl Kyra, who I thought didn't like me, pulled me out and walked me around the corner. At first I got scared of her too but then she held my hand and reassured me we were cool. She held me all the way around the corner and then the tears formed. I started realizing what just happened and felt a sick in my stomach. I felt nauseous and walked to a tree and dry heaved for a good ten minutes. Nothing but spit would come out. After I could finally breathe, I sat down on a bench and hugged Kyra goodbye. I sat there with my hands covering my face bent over. I silently cried my eyes out. Everything in me was hurting and shaking. I've never been yelled at like that nor grabbed and choked. Ian (you're old best friend) came over and noticed I was upset. He held out his hand and said we're leaving. While we were walking he out his arms around me and kissed my cheek. Holding his hand and being held by him was exactly what I needed to stop crying. I felt safe and loved even if he wasn't my boyfriend. This is you typing it not even two guys after.

Disappointment I hate being a disappointment. Seeing the look in my mother's eyes that cry, "Who are you? You are not the daughter I raised or wanted. Get out of me and my family's #life." It's like a stab to the heart. My own mother doesn't even said love you anymore. Maybe I am a disappointment. What if I am what they say. Maybe I really am a drug addict who doesn't care about my #life. I run from my problems and let people walk all over me. Why do I let people do that to me? People don't understand that there is a heart inside this body. I'm not just an ATM or a ride or a fuck buddy. I'm a real person with feelings too. Here I am talking about being a therapist and shit. I'm probably more messed up than those kids. Why does my mind work like this? Why can't I stand up for myself and become somebody? Not even a year ago I was one the right track. Then I moved out and tried to do things on my own. Look how that turned out. I'm no longer a virgin, I'm such a whore. I smoke weed and do drugs like a fuckn addict. Drugs aren't helping my problems go away. Yeah they're giving me a good night but the shit is still on the front doorstep. Until I face the shit, it's just gonna sit there and smell shittier every day I put it off. Just one more thing to be ashamed of. I wish I was stronger as a person. It would literally solve at least 75% of my problems. If I was a stronger person, I wouldn't let people treat me the way they do. I'd stand up for myself and let people know I'm not one to mess with. If I was stronger, I'd be able to stop myself from wanting to do drugs. I would be able to make my own decisions feeling confident and not afraid of my mom or family bitching at me. I'd be strong enough to know how I should be treated by everyone and what friends to be friends with. Being strong can give me the brains to function instead of what I'm doing now. My #life would be completely different if I would just gain some confidence and strength in myself. I've been beaten down so many times by people whom I love in the past that my self confidence is almost non-existent. And I can't blame anyone but myself. I could have been a normal teenage girl and stood up for myself with my parents. I could have yelled and slammed the door in my mom's face which would have probably helped my confidence. I was always the girl who would sit on the couch, crying my eyes out with my hands crossed in my lap just praying it would be over. The worst feeling in the world was looking at them. Seeing the disappointment in their eyes killed me the most. It broke my heart every time they yelled at me because when they would yell at me, I'd look at the ground and imagine seeing this from someone else's point of view. A little girl, sitting on the couch, looking scared shitless while two adults yell at her and make her feel like shit. How could two people who brought me into this world treat me like that? Correction, treat me like THIS. They look at me with such disappointment and disapproval. They see me as a delinquent more than a daughter. With the lies I've told and the hearts I've heart, I wouldn't blame them. Seeing the look in my dad's eyes the first time he picked me up from the cops, will never leave my head. It was that silent moment in the car while we were parked at home that I realized how much I disappoint them. I'll never forgot the words he said, "Get out of my car before I hit you." My own father is so ashamed of me, that he was willing to physically harm his 16 year old first born daughter. And people wonder why I have no confidence. I am nothing but a disappointment. A drug addict. A liar. Selfish. Ungrateful. Immature. Unwanted. How do I build up confidence if there's nothing I build with? No one in my entire #life has ever sat me down and asked me how I was doing. Not one person. They send me to 7 therapists and expect me to open up and work out my mental issues. But how am I supposed to trust a stranger with thoughts like "Kayla, this world, your family, your friends, they won't care if you die. It's not like you're real to them anyways. You do selfish things for selfish reasons that you can't explain to anyone because of how fucked up in the head you are. So do the world a favor and kill yourself." Every time I'm driving, I think of swerving. Every time I see a knife, I think of stabbing myself. No one wants to know what I think or feel because I think about suicide daily and feel like I'm losing my family and slowly all of my friends. I look at my #life through my parents eyes and all I see is disappointment. I didn't get a class, disappointment. I don't have a roommate, disappointment. I have tattoos, disappointment. Everything in my #life is getting messed up because I'm losing interest in #life. Confidence in myself. I'm whoring myself around, losing relations with my entire family, dropping out of school, and I'm about to lose my job. I have no one in my #life who I can turn to. I am literally alone. No family. No friends. And why? Because of me. I ruined my own #life with not dealing with shit while it's happening. I ruined my #life with not standing up for myself. I ruined my #life with becoming friends with back stabbers. I ruined my #life because I wasn't a good big sister or daughter. I ruined my #life because...because I do not love myself enough to change. I punish myself for the mistakes I have made against the ones I love by letting people fuck me over. By letting my parents yell while I say nothing. By letting girls beat me up and not fight back. I deserve the #life I am living because of the way I used to treat people. I broke my parents heart. I failed my siblings as a big sister. I cheated on my boyfriend. For as many lies as I've told, hearts I have broken, and tears I have shed, I deserve feeling alone. Out of self punishment. No one else is in the blame for my actions. As much as I wish I could blame it on my parents, it was still my fault. Yes, blaming myself isn't going to solve anything. Inflicting pain and loneliness is only pathetic and sounds like I want attention. I'm not pathetic but I do want attention. I want someone to just dedicate some time to listening to me and actually letting me get everything out that I've held in for so long. I want to be heard and understood for once. Not ignored or talked over by. Just someone who will listen until I feel confident again in my #life decisions. That's all.

Let Him Go I need to let him go. He's not coming back. I need to accept the fact that he's in heaven. Safe and sound. He was apart of my #life, and will always be in my #life but I have to stop wishing he could be mine again. I need to move on. Let someone else in. Let someone else have my heart. Dwelling in the past isn't healthy nor good for my future relationships. I will never move on if I keep wishing for the impossible. It's time for me to turn the page. To read the next chapter in my #life.

2011-06-11 0000 Two years ago, on June 11th, 2011, I went to Oregon to my cousins graduation. Little did I know I'd meet the man of my dreams that night. David Forbess was his name. He was standing in the living room of my cousin. We hung out for a bit while we waiting for my cousin to get ready. Then we headed to the graduation. We talked the entire way there. About work, school, family, etc. He was easy to talk to an could always make me laugh. We sat together during the graduation. I remember giving him a picture of me at the senior prom. He told me I was beautiful. Then we blew up beach balls that were modeled like the world. He face turned red every time he blew up a ball. Haha. It was adorable and his smile made it priceless. Once my cousin graduated, we proceeded to throw the balls at the graduates. It was against the rules but we didn't care. After the graduation, my cousin, David, and I went to the store to buy red bulls. That night, we had so much fun. We went to Walmart and David and I danced in the meat department. He even held my hand for awhile. He was so tall and strong. We went to Cozy Dinner and David threw French fries at me. On the way to drop David off, we shared our last red bull. He said we kissed since we shard spit through the red bull. Haha. We got to David's house and we all went into his room. His dad came in and started talking to us about something but I can't remember. All I remember is David asking me for my number and me writing it on a gum rapper. He had so much gum. He walked me out and gave me a huge hug. He wanted to kiss me but I didn't. That was the worst decision of my #life. Because that night, was the last time I ever saw him. We texted for about 60 days straight. Every time either one of us was in a bad mood, we would text each other. There was one night, a full moon, and he called me. We talked on the phone for hours just both staring at the moon. Wishing we were in each others arms. I was truly in love with him. He always knew how to cheer me up and make me smile. He truly cared about me and never let me go to bed without a goodnight babe text message or call. Then August 17, he got in a car accident and died. The night before he died, he texted me saying he loved me. In the morning, I texted him "good morning babe ." No response. I texted him again about an hour later. No response. Then I went on Facebook to see if he was online or if he had posted where he was. All I saw was R.I.P. all over his Facebook page. I thought, "this is a sick joke." So I called my cousin. Sure enough, he had got in an accident when his brakes weren't working on his jeep. He hit a tree with a friend in the passenger seat. I went to his funeral a week later. What's ironic is he was going to come down to California on the 27th of August to see me and ask my dad to officially court me. His funeral date was the 27th. He promised me he would love me always and forever. That was our motto. Always and forever. Well, he kept his promise. He loved me till the day he died.