I Haven't Found a Drop of Life

I have to say that I don't particularly enjoy this time of year very much. The weather is cold and dreary and it gets dark out at 5pm. Things to do are pretty limited because its freezing out..and I mean freezing literally. The highest temperatures the past few weeks have been in the teens. Also, it is the beginning of an entire year and while that year goes by quickly, I don't feel the speed of time passing by until a few months in.

So right now, I've been feeling anxious. Like I'm waiting for something to happen but not enough time has gone by yet. I don't know if I'm waiting for warmer weather or for motivation or what, but I feel like I'm at a stand still. When I picture this year in my head, I see myself having so much fun but we are already 2 months in and nothing has happened. For some reason, I just feel lost and like something is missing.

Someone once said "the two most important days in your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why." I guess I have yet to experience the second most important day of my life...

Title post is from "Addict with a Pen" by Twenty One Pilots

After My Blood Turns Into Alcohol

The mood to write strikes when I feel down and out. At this point, I don't think it matters because I don't think anybody reads this blog anymore anyway.

There are so many exciting and life changing things that will be happening in the next few weeks and while I do feel excited and happy, I am also sad and depressed. I'm scared of change, I'm scared that I don't know what I'm doing, that I wont be ready for these changes, that I'll fail in my new role. There is so much uncertainty about everything that's gonna happen  and I cant find a source of comfort or an anchor to root me in this chaos. I have never thought it possible to feel so lonely amidst so much loving and caring people that surround me. I continue to seek the support and approval of the one person who will not give it to me.

At this point, I am doubting things and it's all stacking up. I wish I could just find some stability, some relief, something familiar, something that will let me know it will all be okay. I search and search and have no clue what I'm looking for. All I know is I have yet to find it. When will I feel like I will be okay?

I feel like I have lost so much in the past year and I'm still grieving what I thought my life was gonna be like. What I wanted my life to be like, what I EXPECTED my life to be like. At what point will I accept that nothing is like it was? At what point will I be okay with the fact that things wont ever be the same? Do I have to lose myself in the process of accepting change and adapting? Or do I become a different person? Or do I simply live in a perpetual state of nostalgia? I have so many questions and don't know where to begin to find the answers I need.



Title of post is from "Give Me Love" by Ed Sheeran

I'm Half Alive But Feel Mostly Dead

Today I feel so sad that I have to write about it in order to let some of this sadness go.

I've been watching a lot of wedding shows on TLC and WEtv. Not only are they entertaining but I like to see what other people are doing in their weddings or what kind of wedding dresses people are buying, etc. After several marathons the past few weeks, I noticed a trend: every single person chosen for all these shows (Say Yes to the Dress, Four Weddings, My Fair Wedding with David Tuttera, etc) has so much love and support in their lives. I mean these women bring a crowd of people with them just to select a wedding dress. Every single person cries when she chooses the right dress. The mom is so proud of the daughter and the father is so happy, etc. They have nothing but nice things to say about the bride and how deserving she is of everything she is getting.

What the fuck? Is this real life? I've come to the conclusion that either people like me dont get married or these television networks dont select people like me or with similar stories to go on TV. I have never seen a bride on any of these shows that I could relate to and it makes me sad because I start to realize that my wedding experience has been far from fairy tale worthy so far. As a matter of fact, nothing in my life has ever been fairy tale worthy and it just makes me wonder why?

My wedding is planned on the tightest and lowest of budgets. I am getting no financial help or support for this from anyone. It is all coming out of the money I have saved for years and once that is used up, the rest will be paid by credit cards. My mom didnt go with me to pick out my wedding dress and when I tried it on for her, she didnt cry with joy at all. She hates my dress and tried to convince me to get a different one. Now I question my dress and wonder if it's even right for me. I feel like I'm settling because the price was affordable and so far  I've had to settle for so many things simply because I cant afford what I really want.

Perhaps the saddest part of this all, is that my father will not be attending my wedding. Not because he cant, but because he doesnt want to. He gave me every excuse in the book and when I refuted each excuse with a valid point, he flat out told me he refused to come. I've held on to that news for a little while now and had to release it before it consumed me. So I will not have my father give me away at my wedding and I will not have a father/daughter dance. My father will not tear up as I say my vows, he will not beam with pride and he will not think I am the most beautiful bride.

 I will walk myself down the aisle. I will give myself away.

This all just makes me wonder what all those other girls have that I dont? Why do they get unconditional love and support? Why do they get unlimited budgets to select their dresses and to prepare their wedding? Why do they get to live out their dreams and I dont? It all makes me feel so inadequate and miserable.

I dont want to seem like I dont appreciate the support I have gotten so far, because I really and truly do. There have been many, many people that have been there for me thus far and my gratitude cannot be expressed in words. They have kept me going so far. I guess the problem is that I still have not gotten the support I need the most, the support I have seeked for years, the support that will sustain me,

the support from my father.

Title of post from "You Were Meant For Me" by Jewel

I and I

So my life has been completely swallowed up by wedding planning, almost every minute of my day consists of getting something done for this wedding...even though its 5 months away.  Despite all my time being devoted to this, I have to say that I absolutely love love LOVE planning this wedding.

Actually, I love planning and coordinating events in general. I have also taken on planning a July baby shower for a friend. I enjoy the creative process that goes into getting everything together. I enjoy making the phone calls to vendors and to find out information. I love coming up with decor themes and ideas, I just really enjoy the stress. It's invigorating rather than unhealthy. It's the endorphin inducing kind of stress, not the chemical imbalance kind and it is really good for me to feel like this.

I was at quite a low point almost two months ago, but I have to say that I have been feeling better. I have started an exercise routine and have changed my eating habits quite a bit. I am also taking vitamin B12 and fish oil and they have made such a difference in my energy levels and moods. I am generally in good spirits, which is such an accomplishment for me. I have my low, dark moments but it is no longer a consistent feeling. I am working so hard at maintaining myself at this level. It's crazy how much of an effort I have to make to avoid numbness, but it has certainly been worth it. I have accepted that I might never be what some might call "balanced" but the result of the work I put in outweighs the dark, abysmal and gaping hole.




It may seem easy to live numbly but please, promise me, you wont ever forget how to feel



Your Love Is Gonna Drown

Normally the holidays would be a time of joy for most people, but then there are a group of people that hate the holidays and it only brings sadness to them. This year, I think I am a part of the sad holiday crew.

The holidays are reminding me of all the things that no longer exist. Things I had and things that were and could never be again. There is an emptiness and a void stemming from the fact that nothing is that way it was and nothing is the way it should be. The way I want it to be...the way it could be. I feel empty and I feel lonely.

So fucking lonely.


Title of post is from "Marching Bands of Manhattan" by Death Cab for Cutie

We Only Said Goodbye With Words

Well, it's obvious I wont be finishing the 30 day challenge. I just don't want to anymore and it feels good to leave it incomplete. I am okay with that.

I feel like the past few months have been a journey of self discovery for me. All the things happening with my family have kept me thinking about so much. I have realized many things, seen things that have been right in front of me, analyzed things, figured things out and accepted much. It has not been easy and it is nowhere near over either. I know my latest postings have all been dark but that is how I have been feeling and I simply cannot fake any other emotions.

The most prominent emotion that I feel as of lately is loneliness. A crippling loneliness I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy (not that I have one...at least not that I know of.) I have not been able to find comfort in the presence of others and I am not able to find comfort in my own presence either. All these discoveries I am making about myself and my family, I cannot share with anyone. I don't want to damage anyone else's life with the truths that I have discovered. I don't want to change any one's opinion of somebody else based on something that I have realized, so I just keep it all to myself.

I don't know if this is the right thing to do but it seems like it for now. I am coping by disassociation because that is the only way I know how to deal. It is a practiced skill that has helped me survive. The mere thought of further analyzing the truth makes me panic. I tuck it away until I find the time to let myself unravel. There are daily reminders of these truths and there are times where I almost fall apart, but I collect myself. I remember reading somewhere (I think it was "Eat, Pray, Love") that when you let yourself unravel, it is hard to reel yourself back in and then you are more likely to easily fall apart, so breaking down becomes a habit. I cannot let that happen, so I practice composure.

I did not intend for this post to get so dark but I could not control it. I do not guard my darkness with the same care that I guard my secrets with.

Lastly, here is "Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse. Kind of fitting for me right now...

Amy, Amy, Amy

RIP

Amy Jade Winehouse

9/14/83 - 7/23/11

May You Finally Find Peace...

I am deeply saddened by the news of Amy Winehouse's death this weekend. I am usually not really affected by the death of people I dont really know, especially celebrities, but Amy Winehouse's death affected me deeply. She was possibly my favorite female singer of all time and "Back to Black" is one of my all time favorite albums. I feel like I have lost a friend...

"Back to Black" and her first album "Frank" were the only albums I listened to for a very long time. Her music was the only music that made me feel anything. I listened to her during the day, at night, during my long bus rides to work, while taking a shower, while doing homework, studying, cleaning, writing, walking, you name it and Amy was with me. She restored my faith in music and introduced me to a genre of music that I didnt know existed and didnt know I loved so much.

Amy and her music were also with me through some of my deepest and darkest times. Times in which I didnt allow anyone in and didnt seek for anyone as I do now. When I first became depressed, "Back to Black" was like a crutch to me. It held me up. At the time, Amy's pain in that album mirrored mine. It was greater than mine, even. I related to her angst, her despair and her suffering from losing herself to the man she felt was the love of her life at the time. I felt I had lost myself to a darkness I didnt even know I was capable of. She made me feel like I wasnt alone. I wasnt the only one suffering something greater than me.

I never cared that Amy Winehouse was an alcoholic and a drug addict. Everyone has their demons and everyone chooses how to fight them. I knew she was troubled but to me that just made her music even better. These songs werent written for her by some mass pop producer, these were songs written by her in her times of woe and desolation and you heard it in her voice, in her lyrics, in her tone. "Back to Black" was raw and it was real...otherwise it would have not won 5 Grammys like it did in 2009.

Amy Winehouse was tragically beautiful person. Her death only reassures this. She was a tortured soul with a gift for writing and a beautiful, unique voice. I have never judged her and I never will. She was sick and misunderstood and perhaps she was too far gone to have found her solace while alive. Her music was my solace. Her music made me feel alive. It impacted me enough to help me save myself. I just wish it would have been enough to save her too....

In honor of Amy Winehouse, I'll post one of her songs in the next 9 posts I make (9 days is the usual mourning time in DR). Below is my favorite song, "Wake Up Alone:"

Too Young to Die But Old Is The Grave

I have kind of been neglecting this blog for a bit. There are some serious issues that I have been dealing with that have really made me struggle to hold onto who I am as an individual, a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, a friend, and simply as a human being.

Over the past few months, my family and myself have noticed significant changes in my father. My father was the type of man that enjoyed simple things. Spending an entire weekend eating, drinking wine and watching movie marathons on the SciFi channel would be a perfect weekend for him. There was nothing that he loved more than having a few drinks, creating new mixed drinks, or sharing a whole bottle of any type of liquor with people. As of recent months, my father no longer drinks any alcohol, not even wine. There aren't even any liquor bottles in my parents house. He no longer eats, he no longer sleeps and he no longer watches television. At all.

He is a completely different man

He has also been stuck on the idea that my mother is having an affair (well, several affairs now). At first, we thought he was being a typical jealous Dominican man. Jealousy runs in Latin men's blood since they are raised to believe a woman should stay home tending to her husband's every need (holds back vomit.) However, things kept taking a turn for the worse. He would accuse my mother of sleeping with any and every man we knew. He even accused her of sleeping with family friends that were women! He accused her of poisoning his food, of performing voodoo on him, putting sleeping pills in his drink, dressing provocatively, cheating with her doctors, her co-workers, her co workers husbands, her friends husbands and pretty much anyone that came to his mind.

All the while during his accusations, he was unable to produce a single piece of evidence. No phone calls, no voice mails, no sightings, no pictures, no text messages, no comparisons, no motives, no nothing. He would follow her, watch her, even hired someone to follow her, took her cell phone, and did several things that would have led him to find SOMETHING, anything...but he still produced nothing. And since he has been unable to produce evidence, he started saying that my mother placed a spell on him to blind him from seeing/finding evidence. She had a spell put on herself to protect her while she is out and about fornicating with several men and women. He became paranoid about everything and everyone. He would ask a question and you would answer him and then 5 minutes later he would ask the same question in a different manner to see if you would give him a different answer so he can try to catch you in a lie. He became a man obsessed, a man on a mission to catch my mother in an act that she wasn't even doing.

My father even went as far as saying that my mother belongs to a cult where women meet once a week to devise plans on how to control their husbands so they could go around whoring themselves out. This cult would send subliminal messages through the phone to people they wanted to influence and this is also how they would "prey" on the men that they wanted to sleep with. Mind you, my father is a very intelligent, scientific and highly educated man who got a Master's degree in Mathematics.

Wait, it gets worse...

This whole time all these things are going on, we had an idea that something was not right with him. We knew something was going on, but couldn't figure out what. We chalked it up to a mid life crisis and perhaps a nervous breakdown, but he just kept getting worse and worse. We started to notice these changes I spoke about in his behavior. We would also notice that he would suddenly break down in tears often. He would also threaten to disappear from our lives, threatened suicide when nobody believed him, and he would sometimes regress to child like behaviors and patterns.

Even with all of these somewhat clear signs, I still had a thought in the back of my mind that maybe he was right about everything. Maybe there were things that we just weren't seeing and weren't catching on to. Maybe, since he was obsessed, he noticed things we didn't. So I started to watch my mother's every move, watched the way she spoke, her behavior, analysed her words, dissected them, read into every line, noticed how she dressed, how she walked, how she moved. I watched every single detail my brain was capable of processing. I found nothing different, nothing that seemed like strange behavior from my mother, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to lead me to believe that my father was right.

Then earlier this week, my father called me with something that made me realize that he was in serious need of help. I realized this was not normal jealousy or a mid life crisis or a nervous breakdown as we previously thought. My father had a mental problem...something way more serious than I ever imagined. Earlier this week, he called me and told me that he had discovered something that would seal the deal and convince everyone of my mother's "infidelity." He told me he was more than 100% sure of this news and he would lay his neck on the line to show he was right. He spoke with such conviction that I believed him before he even told me what it was. He went on to say that he was certain that my mother was sleeping with my fiancee, Victor, and with my sister's boyfriend, Stephen, who lives in the basement with my sister and her kids.

My heart literally came out of my ass at this point

It was right then and there that I knew he was not in tune with reality and he was not mentally well. I did some research on the Internet and looked up all his symptoms (delusions, paranoia, etc) and I discovered that there is a disorder called delusional disorder. There are 6 types of delusions, and one of them is jealousy where the person is convinced their spouse is cheating on them.

This disorder is a psychotic mental disorder where a person believes a delusion that could be possible and plausible, but is certainly not true. People with this disorder lead high functioning normal lives and don't really exhibit bizarre behaviors other than the delusions. These delusions can also be linked to other psychotic disorders, such as bipolar disorder or schizophrenia. The symptoms of this disorder, along with everything else associated with it, describes my father to a T. I have no doubt in my mind that he is suffering from this...no doubt at all.

People who suffer from delusional disorder often fall victims to depression and anxiety and suffer from this chronically and often for the rest of their lives. The only way to manage this is through drug therapy, where the patient is prescribed anti-psychotic medication, and through psychotherapy. However, most patients do not seek any help since they strongly believe that they do not have any type of psychological problem. My father, of course, is one of these people. He does not think there is anything wrong with him and he swears he will find evidence soon.

My family and I all went to see a family therapist yesterday (my father refused to attend) and we told him everything that was going on. He agreed with my diagnosis of delusional disorder and also told us that it sounds like my father might be suffering from a mix of mental disorders such as depression and schizophrenia.

I have no words to describe how that information made me feel...no words at all

We devised a plan to trick my father into coming to see this therapist. I don't know if it's gonna work and I don't know what to do if it doesn't. At this point, this is one of those things that my psyche cannot process. I feel like I am watching a movie and I am just waiting for it to end so I can leave the theater and go back to my normal life.

Title post is "The Bucket" by Kings of Leon

Wasted Time and Broken Dreams

In an attempt to get out of my "back to work" funk, I put up a mini Christmas tree in my office cubicle. (See pic on the left) I thought it would cheer me up and get me into the holiday spirit at work, but it did just the opposite. It looks like the saddest tree to ever exist. Every time I look at it, I get more depressed. The picture makes it look worse than in person...and that depresses me even more.

I couldn't sleep last night. I kept thinking about my father. I have had a pretty volatile relationship with him but we have gotten along well the past few years. Actually, we have gotten along ever since I moved out of my parents house a few years ago. When I was younger and dumb, I resented my father for many reasons. I didn't agree with the way I was being raised and I didn't agree with his beliefs. Now that I am older, I understand that he was just trying to protect me and had my best interest at heart, even though it didn't really work the way he thought it would.

I have come to realize that my father is a good man. He has a good heart and wants what is best for everyone but he does not know how to express it. My father seems like he is full of anger but it's because that is the only emotion he is comfortable expressing. He has no filter from brain to mouth and will just blurt out what he is thinking. He comes across as an ogre and he can be very hurtful with his words. He can often be demeaning and spiteful with what he says and sometimes he can be considered verbally abusive.

I spent the night analysing him and trying to understand where his anger is rooted. In my analysis, I realized that my father is a very insecure person. He has many complexes and he cares so much about what others think about him. I think my father has spent his whole life waiting for his own father to show pride in him and approve of him, but my grandfather died and never got around to show him. He will never know if his own father was proud of him. He doesn't feel validated or important because the only approval he ever seeked was never given to him. So he walks around making himself out to be an important, powerful person knowing he is not and I guess that his insecurity makes him angry.

My father is also a very highly intelligent person. He is definitely one of those people that is so smart, they are borderline mental. He has so many theories of why things happen and has many paranoid thoughts, he thinks everyone is out to get him. He hates capitalism, hates the government, hates religions, celebrations, etc. There is always a conspiracy theory behind everything and I think its to make up for what he believes are his failures. His paranoia is an excuse.

I noticed and figured out so many things about him last night, but there was only one thing that affected me. I realized that my father is a very, very unhappy man. He drinks his sorrows away and finds solace at the bottom of an empty bottle. I think he expected to be someone else and is disappointed. I think he had a vision of what he wanted his life to be like and it isn't that. He thought he would be a millionaire by now. His life consists of things that he cant find happiness in and he has resigned himself to that. He isn't drinking to relax and wind down like most do, he is drinking to die. He once told me that the reason he drinks so much is to forget. At the time, I was young and didn't understand what he was trying to forget but I understand it now.

He is drinking to forget his unhappiness, his insecurities, his failures, his misery, his mistakes, his complexes, his unfulfilled desires, his lack of recognition...he is drinking to forget his existence. My father is a very unhappy man and has been for quite some time.

Realizing this kills me and the child in me is thinking it's my fault. Maybe if I would have behaved better...or maybe if I wouldn't have argued so much with him, maybe if I would have focused more on school, maybe if I would have become a doctor or went to a better school, or maybe if I would have stayed living at home...so many maybes. The adult in me knows that it's nothing that I did, that it's not my fault but I cant help but think that I have failed him.

It is a continuous struggle to balance what I give to my father and what he takes from me. My father has let me down more times than I can count. He has taken more than he gives. I have had to lower my expectations of him as a father in order to never be let down again, but what if he has had to do the same of me as his daughter? Should I give more of myself and continue to expect nothing in return? Do I stop trying to make him happy? Do I work harder to please him? I am so torn. I don't want to lose myself in trying to make him happy if he has resigned to his misery but I also don't want to feel like I gave up on him.

My father seems like an arrogant, angry, insecure, old fashioned, alcoholic ogre but in reality he is a lost little boy whose dreams never came true and no matter what happens and no matter how much he continues to hurt me, I forgive him. I know he will never apologize to me but I'm ok with that because I will continue to forgive him. He is not perfect, but he is my father and nothing will ever change that.

Title post from "These Days" by The Black Keys

Doubts Are All I've Got To Call Mine...

Life has been pretty consistent lately. All the usuals: slaving at work, starting a "diet" every week, family arguements, spending money i dont have, drinking, putting off laundry and dishes, making shitty meals, lamenting my career choice, Family Guy, Lifetime weekends, and it goes on and on....

I am thinking about joining a kickboxing class that they offer in some health center 1o minutes from where I live. Right now they are offering 3 sessions for $20. I guess you can decide if you want to join after that. I'm nervous about this.

First, I dont know how much the total price will be. Second, I dont have the courage to do this class by myself. I am utterly embarrassed and ashamed. What if I am too fat to keep up and end up passing out? I wont know anybody that can buffer my insecurities. Lastly, will I have the energy to go to these classes? They are 1 hr sessions and there are classes offered 6 times a week. I was thinking about going 2 to 3 times a week, but work takes so much out of me. It is very difficult to work an entire day at a job that you hate and makes you miserable. Misery requires a lot of energy, you know.

I guess I have to find some sort of inner motivation deep, DEEP within myself. I just saw a picture of myself on Facebook that a friend of mine tagged me in. It is a very recent pic of me, taken last Sat 10/16/2010. You cant really see any of my body, just my chest and some of my arms but I look horrifying. I look swollen and pregnant and like a massive, ginormous killer whale that breeded with an elephant on steroids whose children then breeded with an extra,large hippo that had an affair with the mother of all cows and conceived an illegitimate bastard combination child with terrible genes and that was destined to be obese no matter what they did. Yes, I look that bad...

The thing that kills me...absolutely kills me...is that I thought I looked good that night. I actually thought I looked pretty and that I had succeeded in looking like I know how to apply makeup and like my outfit was somewhat fashionable and I had matching accessories. I even attempted to give my hair some life by curling the ends. It just resulted in me looking like a fat wannabe with a bad makeup job and flat hair. I walked around with confidence that night, thinking I was turning heads and shit, but boy was I wrong. I was so embarrassed my heart sank when I saw these pictures and I wanted to cry.

I know there are people that are gonna tell me that I looked great and blah blah blah but nothing anybody can say will change my mind. It's great if others view me a certain way, but that doesnt make a difference to me because that is not the way I view myself. I am just so sick of being disappointed in the way I look.

I am sick and tired of being unhappy in every way. I am just so lost. I dont know where to turn or what to do. The only way I see myself being happy is if I never look at another mirror or ever allow myself to think every again. Clearly, neither is possible so I need a sign or some guidance or something, ANYTHING to make me see the light.


Title of post is from "Duality" by Bayside

I've Become So Numb

I havent been doing too good lately. I've been feeling down. I mostly just want to disappear in my slumber. I'm not sure why I am in this downward spiral. All I want to do is sleep and hope that I will feel different once I awake. As Three Days Grace says: "I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all" and thats exactly what I feel, nothing at all.

Which is worse?

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole

First post of the new year. Ive been slaving at work. For those of you who are financially saavy, we have been reconciling our accounts for the entire year so that we can get release our 2009 earnings to our shareholders. In laymans terms this means: they have been slaving us so that we can tell people who invest in our company how much money we made in 2009.

I dont know if I am overworked and just exhausted, but I feel sad. This happens to me often. I will be just fine and all of a sudden, Im in a "mood." I have no control over it and I often dont realize its happening until I feel the way I feel today.

Let me attempt to put it into words. I feel like I am bored but I have too many things to do at once. I feel hopeless, nostalgic, spaced out, stressed, and just plain sad. It becomes difficult for me to move, to understand what people are saying and to even want to stay awake. Its so hard to make sense of this feeling because most times I have no reason to feel this way and because it just comes and goes at it pleases. I am no fool, I know that my symptoms can be googled and that it would result in some sort of mild depression, but I would rather not go there.

This reminds me of a lyric in "The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot" by Brand New. It goes:

"A crown of gold; a heart thats harder than stone
It hurts a whole lot, but its missed when its gone"

Sometimes, for some reason, people like to feel pain and they like to feel sad. I remember feeling that way a long time ago. Thinking that I wanted to feel a little sad and just have a good cry. I guess its because to me pain and sadness has always been more familiar than happiness. That was before I knew what it was like to actually feel genuine, unexplained sadness. I have been depressed. I have known what its like to feel completely hopeless, to feel like you are spiraling downward in a bottomless, black hole. I have known what its like to make the effort to just get up and shower or to eat or to even take the next breath. I have known what its like to want to feel good...to feel normal and happy but not finding the effort to do so anywhere within your whole universe.

I have been there before....

And although pain is more familiar than happiness, I will NEVER go back there again. So I guess I will just continue to deal with my little "episodes" and my temporary periods of sadness because I dont ever want to be that person I was. I dont ever want to feel the way I once felt. And though that person I was may linger within me, to me she no longer exists.

She is merely a ghost of who I used to be...and of who I will never be