I hate cancer.

I've hated cancer since the day I found out my grandmother was going to die of lung cancer in 2005. I've hated cancer even more the day Meghan died. I've hated cancer even more when a fellow Girl Scout lost her beautiful red hair and was diagnosed with leukemia. I've hated cancer even MORE since the day I found out about a 15-year-old with leukemia. She only has three months to live, the doctors say.
We take life for granted everyday-- I TAKE LIFE FOR GRANTED EVERYDAY WHILE PEOPLE ARE DYING OF CANCER, DISEASE. And I take life for granted everyday! Lauren, the fifteen year old, hasn't been to school for a very long time. She hasn't been hanging with her friends at the mall or whatever. She has been stuck in a hospital for God knows how long! while I'm wasting every single breath! And I walk around boohooing about this and that when... this girl... she can't even... go outside without collapsing.

This Life is Wee-ary, A Tear - a Sigh. A Love that Chan-ges, This Life is Wee-ary, A Tear - a Sigh. A Love that Chan-ges, And then ... Good-bye! This Life is Wee-ary, Hope comes to Die. A Dream - a Wa-kening.

Life is beautiful but so short. And I can't stand death. Death after death after death. Sometimes I wish I could change positions with someone. I would do anything to take Lauren's cancer. Or take Natalie's flu. Or die for Matthew. Anything... But, you have to learn to let go.



Carried to The Table - Leeland


Live it,
Stefani B.

Honest.

Honesty is something important in my life nowadays. And I'm about to be very honest with you.
For those who know me very well and know about my last two years of life, you will definitely know about my cutting last summer. You will probably know I gave up cutting in August of last year, but backslid in January of this year. And, it's been six months since July 27th and will be seven months as of August 27th. I cannot wait until January 27th rolls around. I might have a party, ha. But, honestly, everyday is an absolute struggle. Life has been treating me wonderfully lately, but that urge to cut is always there. Because, ...honestly, the pain that surges through my body when that blade cuts through the skin is absolutely bittersweet. It's like a sigh of relief, only in a different form. And, it's as if my wrists are screaming at me to grab the nearest sharp object, and just tear through my skin. Just begging and crying for another new scar so that I can "show off". But it's nothing I never wanted to show off. I won't point out the fading scars and say, "I have more scars than you do!" Because it's embarrassing to think you have to cut just to set yourself free, which cutting doesn't free you; it just binds you even tighter.
I have a chalkboard that runs across the middle of my room, and I have one portion dedicated to TWLOHA(To Write Love On Her Arms). TWLOHA is written on the board and underneath TWLOHA is "6 months  2 weeks 4 days". That's merely a constant reminder that I'm almost to another day, another week, another month, and hopefully another year.
So, honestly, cutting urges are still there, and I haven't used anything sharp since January(you think I'm kidding? I'm not). And honestly, they are strong urges, lingering and waiting for the perfect moment to lure me. And honestly... It's bittersweet...

Live it,
-Stefani B.

I promised a blog

about my friend's visit. So, here we go. And I'm keeping it short as possible
One word to describe him: annoying.
One word to describe me: irritated.
One word to describe mom: excited.
One word to describe dad: protective.
One word to describe the visit: Odd
Two words to describe how we acted: We fought.
Two words to describe who won: I did.
Two words to desrcibe the thing I hated the most: his tackling
Two words to describe how awkward it was at night when we watched TV... alone: Freaking awkward!
Two words to describe how he acted around my parents: Suck up.
Three words to describe the visit overall: It was hell.
Three words to describe the way I acted: Like a bully. :P
Three words to describe the way he acted: Like a playa.
Three words to desrcibe if I would do it again: Oh, heck yeah.
Five words to describe if he would come back: He wants to move here.

lol.

Live it,
Stefani B.

Can has break nao?

Ugh. I'm still getting ready for school, which starts in a week. Where'd summer go? I recall when I first stepped out of school, tasting the freedom and ready for summer to begin. Now, I'm kissing the break 'goodbye' as I head back to school. Don't get me wrong. I love school with all my heart. I love when I wake in the morning and head to school. No, I'm lying. I hate that part. But after I get there, I love school. Mom tells me not to stress over school. Uh... I can't help it. I'll check my new, pretty purple binder everyday to see if I have everything, which I do. But, I'm scared I don't, even though I know I do. And the classes are making me worry. I'm excited about everything except music paces, PE, and biology. I'm a bit nervous about Bible. New teacher, new teaching, new surroundings. But, I've had this teacher for the last three years just not in Bible. Ha.
But, I need a break. A spiritual lift. Get back on my feet. Like, the new Gatorade series. Before, during, after. Prime, Perform, Recover(Thank you, google for that info). I just need to take a deep breath... before the plunge... into schoolwork.
Life is good, btw. Thanks for asking. My dad has stopped drinking... again. I think I'm on a rollercoaster. Oh, wait. I am. Up, down, up, down, corkscrew, brake!... down, up, incline, fall, screams, loop, corkscrew, brake!... Fin. Mom and I are pretty good, I guess. And the visit from my sister, two nieces, and nephew went great. I finally realized my sister loves me(except that one time she kept asking me questions at the restaurant. I wanted to shove a fry in her mouth). My birthday is coming up. I feel. old. I'm only turning fifteen but my bones pop. And I'm wayyy too young for that, right?
Well, I'm done. Sorry for the huge lack of posts. I promise, when school starts, I'll have plenty to talk about.

Live it,
Stefani B.