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Bruna Tarabillo
Creative Writing
St Petersburg College

Journal

Well first I want to start by introducing myself. My name is Bruna Tarabillo. I am 21 years old, what can I say, I love my family my friends and boyfriend. Today is May 19th and the summer semester just started. I had a really good spring semester I finally felt like I was able to continue my journey and not fall behind. I have made many mistakes in my college carrier and slacking in my studies was one of them. But not spring semester, I really tried and I did good, I was so happy with myself…now I’m starting this summer class and after this class I should be able to transfer to the university of South Florida. Everything in my life is going pretty smoothly…well almost everything.
Well dear journal let me start by telling you a little about the people in my life. My father’s name is Fernando Tarabillo he was born in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. My mother’s name is Cintia de Tarabillo and she was born in Bolivia as well. They moved to this country not too long ago, proximally 4 years ago. I moved to this country 6 years ago, and yes I was also born in Bolivia. Before living in Florida I lived in Virginia, there is where I went to High School. I lived in a small little town called Amherst County. I have good and bad memories from that town. I lived there with my aunt, who is a lady with a lot of mental problems and psychotic reactions. I now live with my parents and it’s been the best 2 years I’ve ever lived in this country. I love Florida. I love the weather I love the beach, and I love the people…well some people. Now let me tell you about my friends. I have 4 best friends, Vanessa, Adria, Tatiana, and Rosa. They are all good-hearted girls, but they all have their flaws and problems. And there’s my boyfriend his name is Tito Martinez. I love him I really do, he has a lot of issues, we have a lot of issues but I love him so I’m welling to let those issues “fly” or at least try to. I also have two older siblings who I adore and I look up to. My brother is 31 years old and lives in New York City. My sister is 28 and she still lives in Bolivia. My brother works in the stock market and my sister is a lawyer, those are some of the reasons why I admire them so much. They are very smart and good people. Dear Journal today is a new day and today I’ve learned two things that play out in my life everyday. The fantasy of the matter is I am in control of my actions. I have been losing weight and the way I have been doing it is healthy.
The reality of the matter is the opposite.

Some days are good. I will eat breakfast, and lunch and feel fine with it. I can sit happy at work and after go to the gym with energy from my salad. I can do my whole program and then only drink my protein shake on the way home. That's a good day.
Lately I've been having less of those.
Now it's skip breakfast and does a quick cardio session. Either skip lunch or have only juice. Gym after work, struggle threw my program, barely finish it if I do. Have a box proteins shake (100 calories) and skip dinner. Repeat.
Then there are bad days. Days when I have breakfast and lunch but something in my brain says "to much! That's to much!” Doesn't matter if it's a healthy lunch it's still too much. Lunch at 1. 1:15 I'm getting antsy. 1:20 I start drinking water. 1st glass. 2nd glass. 3rd glass. 1:25, I grab the bathroom key. Staff toilets are quieter and less used than the public ones. Even if they aren't cleaned as often. 1:30. Lock the door. Put my rings from my right hand to my left. Take of my bracelet. Put toilet paper in the bowl and play some music or a podcast on my phone. I keep this from my parents and my friends, especially my boyfriend…I don’t know why but I feel like its wrong that is why they don’t know. Is that wrong? How wrong can it be? Everyone deserves to have a little secret. Don’t you think? Maybe I’m wrong but how can someone know? I keep on having these thoughts in my head…but everyone has the right of those. It’s my dirty little secret. Until next week dear journal.
I had began the year 2014 with an optimistic attitude, I was ambitious and I had every intention to do everything that I could, and make the most of the next 2 semesters in SPC. My best friend had just moved back into my city (she lived in Tampa before) and everything, as always, was flawless. Everything in my life up to that point...was perfect... I don't know why that had always bothered me, perhaps because no one remembers the ordinary people, unless you suffer, everyone sees you as a bitch that has everything handed to them. Spoiled brat. I was seen however, differently. People looked at me like a ditz, like the go-lucky carefree girl that everyone could go to for anything. It was nice, knowing that people could come to me and tell me about their lives that they deserve to complain about. It distracted me from going to my own corner of self-pity, it made me know that I have nothing to complain about and I must be grateful for what I have.
But being the bridge to hold everyone up...was hard...
I was falling, I couldn't help it, and I couldn't talk to anyone because all those that I trusted were already so busy with their own lives and problems, if I added mine, who knows what would have happened. I couldn't tell my parents, because quite frankly, I had no idea what to tell them. I was stir-crazy within my mind. I started cutting that gave me a release at the time. Most people start cutting to try and heal them from pain...I wanted some. As masochistic and crazy as it may sound, I couldn't stand being little miss perfect, I could not live a normal picture-perfect life anymore, it was driving me mad! However, my best friend saw my scars. I ran before he could say anything, I didn't know what to do. I went to the girl’s restroom and just locked myself in a stall. I was hyperventilating, and hiding from whatever I had to face. After my little panic episode, I returned to class, well aware of the fact that if I didn't, I would only make things worse, and at that point, that was the last thing I needed. I made no sense, this I know, but I was afraid, and young, and naive. Three months passed, he never said a word to me. I was getting fed up, I couldn't handle being ignored and tossed aside whenever it just wasn't convenient for me to be his friend... So I sent him a letter...
"What is it? Am I ugly? Am I just too strange? Do you hate me because I’m different than the other people here? I’m not trying to be rude, I just need to understand. You’re fine with other people, other girls. Why am I so different? Is it because of the mistakes I've made? It was your fault I did it in the first place. You were ignoring me at all costs and I tried to change for you, I did! But no matter what I did, nothing was good enough. I finally just figured that I’m just not good enough. I’m too ugly, I didn’t think so anyway I decided to I dyed my hair. I wasn't smart enough, not as smart as my siblings so I tried harder in school. I was too boring, so I took some risks. Then after everything else failed, I just decided that if I wasn't good enough to be your friend, then I just don’t belong here. I didn't want to exist without you. Now it’s happening again. You say I can talk to you but I can’t, you’ll judge me. You say that I’m your friend and you like to be with me. Will you please just stop with all the lies? If you really are my friend, prove it. There was one day that we hung out at lunch, only one day. It was the best day of my life. But now, I can see you don’t want me in your life. We ride together in the morning and we ride back after school, you talk to me then, when nobody else is around. Why though? I didn't think friendship had an expiration date. Apparently now, it does. I know you think that I’m the one starting this, but I just can’t take it anymore. The neglect, the banishment from the paradise that was your circle of friends, it’s driving me crazy. I just need one answer. What did I do that was so terrible? I know I’m not sweet like --------. I know I’m not funny like -----. I understand that I’m not really pretty either, but you were fine with it before! I guess what I did was unforgivable. But I thought you said you would help me. I thought you said you would be there for me. I thought you said that you would be there when I needed you. I tried to rescue our friendship, but all of my attempts have failed. You don’t respect me; you don’t want me to be seen with you, and now, I'm done."
Over-dramatic? Yes.
Unnecessary? Yes.
Regret? Not at all.
From then on, things had gotten better, he was talking to me, he told me things about himself that no one else knew, and I was happy being the keeper of secrets once again. But of course, we did drift after that once more. I was miserable still but I didn't want to lash out again, I didn't want to cause drama and be this person that everyone else thought couldn't take a joke. But with that came a price, no one took me seriously... No one ever does...
Happy girl is the one to go to, she'll make you smile and laugh, don't worry, it's fine to walk over her, she likes it.
No, happy girl does not...

Dear Journal today is June 16, 2014 and today I feel lost. There is a point in everyone's life where they sit there and think, "How did I get here?” Full well knowing exactly how they did. But the question isn't really about how it is that they physically got there; it's more about the states of mind they experienced on the way there. Moods change all the time. So much that what seems like a great idea one minute, is absolutely absurd the next. When it comes down to it, my personal introspective journey at the moment is completely relationship based. I wonder why one moment I can't fathom a life spent with one person, then soon enough I can't imagine it without them. My emotions seem to be in a constant tug-of-war with each other. Constantly at odds and circumventing my logical thought process. When I look at my situation analytically I find myself sad that a person that I once regarded as my other half, being the person that I have projected all of my insecurities and frustrations on. It's horrible to see the degradation of a once overly happy couple to the resent-filled, and caddy people we have become. I see it as an upsetting eventuality to any untended union. We had so much potential, and we're regarded as one of those couples that "could fail". Maybe that's one of the reasons we did. Maybe just having so much confidence from other people built a shield around the idea of "us". Then after his first and only way of showing infidelity that I know of, I realized that there’s something in his heart that was looking for something else, maybe it was the alcohol in his system or maybe the boredom of the scenery. It was only a text, but I was there the whole day, what would happen if I weren’t there? I let many things slide, his lack of commitment, the fights over where to go or when to wake up, his poor work ethic…. I could let all of those flaws pass because of I knew, or thought I knew his loyalty to me and “us” was irreplaceable, but it’ll changed that day. And that's why we broke up. I desperately wanted to forgive him, because I still love him. But as with everything in life, it's not that easy. I have loved him for so long I can't pinpoint when it really happened. And I still do. I know he loves me too. Although we may never be together again, we will be tied together in some way forever. That's the way it is with true love. It's beautiful and it's loathsome. It's the best thing in life and it's the worst. He will move on, find someone to love again. And I hope he does. He's an amazing person. I will move on and find someone as well. I know I'm a good person deep down. I know though that I have to learn to forgive, because if I don't I know that my issues will superimpose themselves onto every relationship I will have. I'm so scared to move on though. I'm scared that I won't find someone who fit so well in my heart. Someone I won't fall in love with every time I see him or her fast asleep and peaceful. My logical mind tells me that, of course, I will. Even so, I worry that I won't be emotionally available to make the most of it. Who knows how long it will be before I can think of that anyway? I believe that I need to become a better person, capable of dealing with what love really is before I'm able to actually feel it like I did previously. I need to. There is nothing else in life I can't provide for myself. I'm fully independent with everything that I can be. I have ideas and plans and goals for my life. I have ways to achieve them all. But I still feel like a whole half of my life is missing. That all the achievements and experiences I will obtain and go through will be half of what I really need. Companionship, therefore, is now a goal. I wonder if maybe someday I will be ready for her again. Fully emotionally prepared to take her into me. Let her in. As I know I didn't before. He deserved better than to be kept on the outside, like I did. He let me know everything. Even the things I shamefully ridiculed his for. If anything, I hope he is happy. I hope he can find someone to make him as happy as he deserves. Just as much as I hope I can find happiness. No one really knows whether or not there is just one person out there for him or her. In so many ways I hope that is true, but in so many ways I hope it's not. What if that person has come to me already and I've ruined it? And along with that any chance to complete myself. The thought terrifies me. What if I just didn't work hard enough? God knows he was willing to try. So why did I give up? I know that I couldn't handle the problems that we kept having. Not because of the severity, (though I can't discount that they were at times severe) but because of the frequency, and the rate at which they escalated. Two people whom kept trying and trying but made no progress. It was maddening in a way, but in another it was admirable. I admire how even as it got to its worst she wanted to try. I don't know if it's because he was scared for the same reasons as me or because he really believed we could work. Even now I believe that we could work. Not at this moment. Not until I figure out the intricacies of my grief and pain. Not until I learn to love and be loved. But in all likelihood by then she will love, and being loved by someone who deserves his affection. I don't look forward to the pain I will surely feel when I see him with someone else. Looking at each other, like we used to look at each other. But it's a pain that is necessary to grow. I know I can't run from it for long. A women needs to face his problems head on, not run. I will face my problems head on. I will face my demons with an unwavering faith that things will work out. I have to. Because without hope, we are all doomed to a life of low expectations and therefore shall never receive the gift of true happiness. It is true to say that hope is the mother of failure. But hope is also the mother of accomplishment, redemption, happiness and many others of the greatest feelings in life. To shun hope so as not to feel the sting of failure and disappointment is to purposely give your life no meaning. When it really comes down to it, we are here now. We are living life now. We can never feel true happiness without the memory of true pain. We will never appreciate what we have unless we remember what it was like when we didn't have it. And if something can make you feel so happy, if even for a small time, then make you feel so terrible, that happiness must be the goal again. And if that terrible feeling is because of something so happy, so meaningful, then that terrible is in its own way beautiful. Well enough venting for today. Until next time dear journal.
Time means nothing when it’s counted by the minutes it takes to draft a memo, the moments you spend stopped on your way to work, the hours until you can go home. Time means everything when it’s counted by how long you have in the sun with the girl who outshines it. Time means everything when it’s counted by the steps you take through the meadows of future memories illuminated by all your youthful optimism. Time means everything when you measure it by the depth of breath on which you taste every sweetness life can be bothered to give you. Time cripples those afraid of being left behind by it, but you never can be. The most you can do is ignore it and wonder why things are different now. All we can do is shut our eyes and wonder why as soon as we do, it’s tomorrow. We wonder why missed opportunities equate to so much regret, when at the time they seemed so daunting. We wonder why time left these opportunities behind us, when we were riding in the same boat as time the entire way, when we could have thrown a life jacket to missed opportunity in a last-ditch effort to save ourselves. You see, we’re all captains of our own Destiny, and why anybody would spend time swabbing the decks of their own ship, I have no idea. But it’s done every day. By those who don’t know what to do with a pixie stick, so they stir a drink with it. By those unaware of what they’re unaware of; those passed over when the heavens gave out silver linings for a man’s heart. I love these people. I love them because there is nothing more I can possibly do for them in the short time we have to impact something, somewhere, somehow. I love them because I know to measure my time by the beats of my heart that give my brain the blood it needs to breathe chemical emotion. I love them because they need it, and they don’t know how much. I love them because they are people—not just husks of humans placed on this rock for the sake of my company, but people, each with their own inconceivably complex web of family, friends, love, hate, and reality, all unaware of their own ticking tocks of invisible clocks. So, while we enjoy our last moments of sunshine, make mementos of our footprints somewhere in the sand that will inevitably be swept clean by the tide to make room for the next moment of midnight perfection, and take our last breaths of the honey-golden air from the world, into our lungs, and then into our blood, know that I always have, and forever will, love you, my beautiful stranger. Yesterday something awful happened; I don’t understand why bad things keep on happening to me. I really don’t. The sun was shinning, it was a beautiful and happy Sunday morning. I was driving down the road with my brand new 2011 Ford Focus, with my music blasting and not having a worry in the world. I had a piece of paper with the directions on my lap. I had taken the second right turn my friend had told me to take. I knew I had to take a left somewhere soon, so I started reading the directions. I only took my eyes of the road for five seconds, but five seconds is all that it took. I saw a deer cross by in front of me and tried to miss it. After that everything was a blur, everything happened way to fast. As soon as I opened my eyes the first I noticed was blood on my hands and smoke everywhere. I had been in a terrible car accident, I yelled and busted out in tears.
It was a common Sunday morning in St Petersburg FL, or at least I thought it would be. I spent the night before at my best friends house, Vanessa. They had just moved to their new house. Their new home was awfully far away from my house. They now lived in the “boonies.” Even though the house and the country scenery was breathtaking beautiful, Olivia and I despised not having cell phone reception, because we were so far away from the town. We woke late since we stayed up all night watching season five of “sex and the city”, gossiping and playing guitar hero. We had breakfast; the delicious and famous french toasts that her mom, Glenda, loved to make for us. Since it was my first time driving from her new house to mine, Olivia wrote down directions for me on a sheet of paper so I would not miss any turns, and I would not get lost on my way back home.
I got on the car, plugged in my IPod, pressed the play button on my favorite playlist and turned the music all the way up. I was enjoying the scenery; while thinking what I had to do when I got home, I remember recalling that I had promised my little cousin to take her to a movie she had been wanting to go see for a long time, then I had dinner plans with my boyfriend. I was stressed out about that dinner because he was going away for college, and I did not know what to expect from that evening. While carefully organizing my thoughts I put the half sheet of yellow paper with the directions on my lap. I started glancing at it while driving, trying to multitask like many teenagers think they can do. I took the first right, then the second one. Later then I thought “ok I just need to take one left after that another right, then pretty much I have to go straight for about twenty miles until I get to the exist that goes to ninety-nine north.” I looked at the paper for 3 seconds so I would not miss the next turn. As soon as I turn my eyes back on the road I see that had a deer had crossed by out of nowhere. My first reaction was to swerve so I would miss it, after that I overcorrected quickly not realizing that it was not the best thing to do at the moment. I was in a curve and going too fast, my vehicle fish-tailed causing it to flip multiple times. Immediately the airbags busted out of the steering wheel and doors, knocking me out completely.
When I finally woke up, with a pounding in my head, I looked around seeing my surroundings in motion. I noticed my car had been in flipped in a ninety-degree angle. The driver side was facing the pavement and the passenger side was facing the sky. The music was still playing extremely loud; it was playing the song “stichwitchu” a song I cannot ever listen to again because of the terrible memories it brings. The car alarm was going off as well, I felt desperate. I turned off the music and unbuckled my seatbelt, I tried to figure out how to get out, I was panicking and did not know how to do. I got out of the vehicle as quickly as possible by claimed up the passenger seat pushing the window out with my feet. When I was finally out at stared at my car for about four minutes just thinking “well great! My dad is going to kill me!” I was not even being thankful that I was alive and that I just had minor injuries. Following that I took a look at my phone and remembered I did not have cell phone service. I decided to start walking back to my friend’s house, which was about a 15 to 20 min walk, and still with my pajamas on.
Finally a car drove by me with a woman in it. She stopped and asked me if that was my car, I told her it was and explained the situation. She was extraordinarily kind to drive me back to my friend’s house. When I arrived there I told them what had happened and Olivia and her mom both started crying saying how thankful they were that nothing had happened to me. I called my parents and just like Olivia and her mom the reaction they had was to ask if I was ok, I told I was fine, but the car not so much. They told me that it did not matter and that they were just thankful to God that nothing had happened to me.
After that terrible incident I have made sure I am extremely careful while driving. I had ever panicked that much, I hope I never have to go through an experience like that again and do not ever wish for anyone to go through it as well. It was the scariest moment of my life. I learned a lot from that experience. After that incident, I always tell new drivers the importance of practice and to never ever take their eyes of the road. Because I only took my eyes of the road for five seconds, but five seconds it is all that it took.
Dear journal, today I read a story about someone and his or her autistic older brother and I cried. I have an older brother who struggles with bipolar and schizoaffective disorder and I love him so much but for years we haven’t really talked or had any deep conversations—I just don’t feel really close to him and I don’t know what’s going on in his head and I don’t know what to do. I’m 18—he’s 24 and my family and I have dealt with his depression and anger and mania and psychosis and hallucinations for 8 years. I just had a psychotic episode for the first time mid-February and after years of thinking I just had to be the sane younger sister to help my brother by having no problems I want to try to connect with him. I’m terrified because I’ve been bored all the time ever since I got started on anti-psychotic medication and he’s on medication that makes him slow too and I wonder if I will always feel bored when I’m with him, if I’ll ever find passion again and we’ll talk and it won’t be awkward and we’ll sit and play board games or something. I’ll be coming home on medical leave and if it means reconnecting with my older brother again a psychotic episode may be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I’m still trying to get over my break up with my ex boyfriend, every day it gets a little better but I’m still hurt. Thankfully my sister comes into town today. I haven’t seen her in 6 months so I’m extremely excited about it. I plan on doing plenty of things with her. I want to take her to the Dali museum, the zoo and tell her about what happened with my ex and I.
Dear journal so I got another job rejection this time from *blank*, of which I was sort of hopeful...now I am really scared... I have applied for other jobs but *blank blank* and *blank blank* were the serious ones or the ones who took in international students and I have been rejected by both of them. Now I am so disheartened and sad...seems like I won't be getting any job offers...and so much of my life plans hang on it…oh god...I never thought I would feel this hopeless...everything seems bleak…shit, my thesis is also going nowhere...I am trapped fuck...all I can do is cry and that is what I am doing even as I type out my feelings...I feel so lost and so alone… I keep on thinking...if only...if only.... I am losing it...my dreams, my plans, and other important stuffs in my life...I am the most unluckiest person, what makes it even worse is that I do get to taste a bit of happiness but that is just momentary...nothing good lasts with or for me... The stars on me don't shine brightly or luckily.... it seems like I have people around me but still I feel alone...this process feels like a way whose end is so sad and dark...all that I have or people assume that I have is going to be gone just like that...I am scared, though I don't show it I cry deep within all alone...why do I have to be this unlucky, this pathetic.... it’s like I am waiting for everything I have to leave me...everything will leave me, I am sure, but like a hopeless fool I hang on. I don't have the strength to let go on my own...I am just waiting for the other person to make his move away from me, till then I just hang onto something unreal...and this makes me seem so pitiful in my own eyes while others keep on thinking I am so lucky. No one knows the truth. That I am this unlucky...life seems so harsh right now. The thing I want, I desire, I need the most, why can't I have it...why does it elude me when others around me are getting them easily. It's no hassle for them but for me everything is a struggle, a matter of luck and it seems that I have run out of luck on all that is important. Shit. Shit. Shit. I feel so helpless, so I cry behind my locked door, and hope against hope, knowing that it is hopeless, but still like a fool hoping from the inner most core of my heart, my body cells that I get lucky...but then I again feel hopeless...’(I wish I had someone who would say, it's all right... I will wait for you, you getting a job are important but not more important than us being together...I will always be with you, this doesn't make a difference. This is something we can both struggle against together. Don't lose hope. Trust me. You have me, you can count on me, and this doesn't decide our relationship this is something else, equally important, yes, but this doesn't overshadow us being together. Lean on me. I will wipe away your tears. You are doing great don't give up. You have me. You will always have me.
I feel empty. I just want to be alone. I feel that I thrive off of feelings of being unwanted and sorrow for myself. I grasp onto those feelings to make sure I can still feel. Yes, I feel happiness and joy, but happiness is ever fleeting. Tati, always the pessimist. At one point my mother asked me why I insist on being negative at certain points. All I could tell her was that I don't view it as pessimism, I view it as reality. In truth, I'm desperate to feel differently. Some would say it's so easy, to be optimistic. I try, I really try. I guess optimism just isn't for me.
I've accepted that I'll never be loved. Who would want to love a mess like me? My own family gave up the task, who would do it willingly? There’s always your friend. I always feel like I'm imposing on my friends and that they would rather be anyone else's friends. I just feel like a burden that everyone is stuck with. My family seems to want to replace me. They always complain of my flaws (which everyone seems to do). Then, when the topic turns to one of my perfect cousins, not a degrading word is uttered. I am a disappointment. Even though I've accepted that I'll never love and have that love reciprocated, I still yearn for it. A pang erupts in my chest every time a couple passes my view. I'm such a pathetic human being.

I strive to be someone different. In a way, I'm already different. The ways I'm individualized are odd, though. When everyone fears trivial things, the one thing I constantly fear is pain. Usually physical, due to the numbness that takes over once I start to feel hurt. My friend thinks that I'm weird because I don't cry so simply. I may have forced that upon myself. I used to be so sensitive that when anyone would yell at me or portray disappointment, I would burst out in tears. I've seemed to convince myself that I don't care anymore. Actually, I wish that people would be proud to know me. But that's just a pipe dream.
Same old ideas run in my head; even fewer. I want to pull all the hair out of my head and scratch my bleeding scalp with my overgrown nails. Don’t know what is wrong. Just can’t think straight, or write, or do anything at all. Feel like my mind is actually diminishing day by day, I think I won’t be able to perform normal everyday tasks soon. I have been skipping university almost every day since a month now. I go to a friend’s, stay back home, walk somewhere else or just go to university and not go to class or meet up with anybody. I have no control over it. I guess it did get triggered by trivial events but why does this happen to me so much? There’s a difference now. Last year, even though I got suicidal and tried to kill myself with an overdose of insulin, it didn’t feel like my mind was losing its function. I was just really tired of everything. But now, I am suicidal yes, yet the bigger problem is my head is not coordinating with me, there is nothing going on up there. While normally, there are a lot of ideas and things in my conscious mind that I love exploring and I never run out of it - but since a few weeks, it seems like it is closing down. At first, I didn’t use to do things out of laziness or lack of interest but I always ended up doing them in minimal time when I really had to meet a deadline. Lately, I can work on something for hours and that produces nothing at all. This has never happened to me before. I think it all started that night Tito, my ex lost my trust. But the question is, when will all of this end?
I just know I have to be grateful for the things I do have, which are caring friends and family. We all have problems and we all suffer at times, but at least I have people that I can count on. They love me they have their flaws but they love me, and at the end of the day we all need to be loved. Its part of the human race.
Well dear journal this is the end of the summer. Or at least this summer class, my life really isn’t as bad as I make it sound at times, I have just had a rough summer and I’m finally ready to let go, thank you for being my safety net and letting me express all of my emotions. If not I would have gone crazy. I needed this more than anyone else could imagine. Thank you for everything dear Journal and farewell.