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Here's the story of my sad, miserable life.

As a small kid, I was okay. My parents were happy for a couple of years and I was happy. We lived in Finland, and at times at Greece 'cause my dad's greek. My dad and mom got divorced and I moved to Finland with my mom. Went to kindergarden and got some friends. It was all good until I grew up at the age of realizing anything. Realizing that live is shitty and kicks you around.

Like I said, I got my first real friends from kindergarden. There was two actually, but I'm not going to mention any names. It was us against the world. We were like the f**k Powerpuff Girls. Or whatever comes to mind. We went to the first grade at school and suddenly it wasn't us against the world anymore. It was them against me. I was left alone, I didn't have any other friends really. But I tried to be tough and survive, constantly trying to make new friends and pushing myself to other kids. By couple of years, I had become this outcast kid, who was always picked last to groups or teams by classmates. I didn't have any hobbies. I was just this fat kid, who got bullied in school because of being a fat kid, and yelled at home because of being a fat kid.

I flew to Greece at some summers to see my dad. He felt bad for not keeping contact, a guess. He was always bribing me with stuff. One summer he gave me a golden necklace, shape of Rhodes, where he lives. There was "TO JOANNA FROM DAD" engraved in the back. I was pleased. Through years my dad started to lose her touch with me, he stopped calling. Whenever he did, he just shouted at me about me not keeping contact with him. He was doing drugs with time to time and he was in jail I think. He never really grew up.

Then I met this girl, still not names. She became my best friend, best ever. We were like Winnie The Pooh and Piglet. Or whatever, f**k the metaphors. We were with each other everyday. Everyday, without any exceptions. She lived with her dad, who was an alcoholic and assaulting her. Really, really bad. He got furious for stupid things and could attack even when I was visiting her. Couple of times he even did, strangled my best friend and banged her head against the wall, me standing next to them, being too shocked and scared to do anything else but stare and cry.

So there was nights with me watching my best friends dad beating the shit out of my best friend. Then there were nights with my best friends dad spending the whole night in the bar drinking and coming home drunk. He did the most grazy things when he was drunk. Sometimes he came home with having scalds all over his arm. Sometimes he was so drunk, he stepped on a wire-plug, it going straight through her foot and my best friend having to pull it out. Once he picked an axe from home and appeared to the park we were with our "friends", threatening them and us.

My best friend's mom didn't want to take her live with her but she didn't want her to go to an orphanage either. So she had to stay home and I had to keep her alive. The nights with her dad not being home always ended up to me holding on to her, crying and yelling not to run under a car or kill herself with a knife. In that point it wasn't working. I didn't have time to make new friends or to do my school-work. I was getting melancholy and I didn't know what to do. I told my best friend, 'cause I thought that from all the persons in the whole wide world, she'd understand better than anyone else. Well, she didn't. She underestimated my feelings and mocked and yelled me for saying anything about my problems when her problems were so much bigger.

I started to write stories and poetry and kind of live inside my head, shutting away from the rest of the world. But like I said - life is shitty so I didn't get away from all that easily. Someone found one of my poems and called my mom and I was sended to nearest crisiscenter. I was established an instead-depression and mid-level-depression. Mom cried like a river and I didn't want to say anything. I got regular times from the therapist and I wasn't able to skip the sessions because of mom looking so hard after me. The sessions made me more and more depressed, I wasn't able to talk about anything there and I hated my therapist.

About the same time, I was standing up for my free time and own opinions and my best friend didn't like it. She was so used to having her will come true and me believing in her opinions and doing what she wants, that we got in to a huge fight and ended up losing each other. I would've never thought it have leaded to where it did. At the school hallways she was always looking me scornfully and kept pushing me against the wall whenever she passed by me. I felt really quilty for losing her and got more and more depressed. I still kept hearing from her, she got in to mixing pills and alcohol and soon after that she was dragged to stomachclearing and was sended to orphanage to other side of the country.

Then my mom got a new boyfriend. Nice at first but then came the other side. He was split-minded, talked about killing mom with himself. Mom heard him when he thought mom was sleeping. They started to fight every day and -night. Then one night I woke up when mom and hime came from the bar together. Mom was yelling and it scared the shit out of me. I listened to their fight and found out that he had beated my mom in the middle of the street. Mom yelled and yelled him to finally leave but he didn't. "I've never hit you." "I love you, what are you talkig about." Then happened something, mom yelled, and suddenly it was death-quiet. I heard him exiting the apartment to smoke and I went to see mom who was laying in our kitchen. He was totally quiet. Barely breathing. Quietly she whispered me to call the cops and I did. I heard him coming back and I ran to my room and fell asleep, crying.
Next time I woke up, I heard someone coming to our apartment and I quietly opened the door from my room. I got blinded by a bright light and turned my head away. It was the flashlight of two police-men. They took him away and we stayed there. In the middle of our apartment, lying on the floor. Crying.

I was alone. I couldn't talk to my mother 'cause I didn't want to upset her more. I didn't have any friends. I was just alone. I started cutting again. Soon I found a band that I'm not going to mention by name either. Suddenly I felt a little better. I bought their record and started to tour with them. Well, not with them you know, but anyway. I got excited about life and I wasn't so unenthusiastic anymore.

Then I fell in love. I fell in love with someone I knew know I can't ever have. There isn't any other as frustrated feeling in the world, as the feeling when you give your heart and soul to someone and never get them back because the person you gave them to doesn't even realise you have given them to him. Love is the thing that makes you fall apart and makes you melancholy and love is the thing that saves lives makes you feel the happiest. It's like a f**k rollercoaster. And I couldn't can't deal with it. This is something that I'm dealing with still, so I'm not able to write it at the moment.

Then I truly found My Chemical Romance. I didn't listen to them anymore. I really started to listen to them and what they have to say. And suddenly I had a purpose. I was the life they had to save. Suddenly I realised everything. Life sucks, it kicks you in the head big time and it doesn't feel good. But you know what? Life isn't sweet. Life isn't dancing throw years. Life isn't all the happy things and balloons. Life just isn't. It's all just life. I have to f**k fight against it. Make the world a better place. Help others and make something meanful for me and others. I have every right be in this world even if life is sometimes telling me I don't. I learned to canalize my feelings through music, writing and art. And it's much better way than cutting my wrists or mixing alcohol and pills whenever feeling melancholy.

Down and down I fell, losting my touch with life again. The compulsory nine years for school's about to end. My school isn't going well. Actually, my school isn't even qualified to teach students good enough. And the neighbourhood I live in, turned in to total mess. There was suddenly so many fights in our school. Not only with fists, but with knifes and scissors. That made me fear a lots of things and I started to have slight panic attacks.

Now you think that's it. No hope. No love. No glory. No happy ending. Bummer. Well, life is shitty.

On December 6, mom got a phonecall and bursted to tears to the kitchen-floor. Dad died in a car accident. Two cars collided. My dad was in the other car. Because of the rainy weather took my dads car on the wrong lane he died. Luckily with no pain. He just..died. The driver and the passenger in the other car are okay and made it. My dad didn't. He just..died. There was so much left unsaid. I felt so quilty for not keeping in toutch with my dad. Why couldn't I just be there or why did dad have to get in that car? Every time I have done something remarkable in my life, I have thought "when I'll meet my dad again, he will be so proud of me." But he isn't. Because he won't. Never. Why dad? Dad was a kind man and never wanted anything bad to happen to anyone. He had his own problems with drugs and stuff, but he was a good person and everyone loved him. Why did dad have to go? I repent so much that I have been so selfish and thought that he wasn't a good dad. Okay, he didn't keep in toutch much, but I didn't do anything to change that. I didn't answer to his SMS or anything. A couple weeks ago he sended a SMS to me and I did not answer. I DID NOT ANSWER. How much do I hope now that I would've answered it. Why couldn't I just answer? I was just so selfish thinking that he was a bad father. He wasn't a bad father, he just never grew up! Died as a child. He did never said "Happy birthday!" or "Merry Christmas", but did I ever call him on father's day? NO, I DIDN'T. Mom said "call him" and I answered "I don't want to." I don't want to. And now I would do anything if I could have just one phone-call with him. If I could just call him and say "sorry for being a bad daughter", but I can't. It's not my choise anymore. I never gave us a chance.

In my neck, there's a golden locket, shape of Rhodos (the iland). In the back of the locket there's engraved "TO JOANNA, FROM DAD." This is too much for me.

Value the things that you have and the people you have. You can never, never know when it's too late and then you will regret those bad things you have said, or the good things you haven't done. Next time you notice you are going to say something bad, think again. Think if that person would not be her in the next day and you couldn't fix it. In any way. You couldn't say anything. And the last word was in your hands, but you used it wrong. There's no reason to be mean or rude. I don't want to be hypocritical and only lecture you about this. I am also trying to be better at this myself too. Tell people how much you care about them and just think if there wouldn't be a tomorrow?

Well, I got more and more melancholy after dad passing away. He left me a huge debt. Hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of euros. As an only child, I'd be the one to pay. I don't even have the money to go to my own dad's funeral. Gratefuly, my grandfather (from moms side) hired us a lawyer. Someone in greece said that I have to be there in 10 days to refuse the offer. Where the hell should we get the money for that? Luckyly the lawyer sorted things out and I didn't have to pay

I was starting to get more and morred depressed when I looked to the mirror. I wasn't pleased with how I looked. Too fat. Too ugly. Just too...bad. I started to try lose some wight but couldn't do it. I started to try to throw up but I couldn't do that either. I was just bad in everything I tried. I started to cut again.

My friends changed. My family changed. My school changed. I changed. About everything around me changed excpect for My Chemical Romance. The pattern never changes, I'm going to f**k rise against. I'm not okay but maybe I don't even have to be. I'm not correct but I have the right to be confused. Because of My Chemical Romance inside of me burst in to flames this small feeling that screams "Here I am and f**k you if you don't understand me." I have started to have own opinions and own way of doing things. I'm tired of hearing how I just can't have that much make up in my face or how I just can't listen underOATH unless feeling annoyed. I can put as much make up in my face as I want and listen to underOATH when ever I want, it's my face and this is my life and I'm going to live it.

Actually yes, I am afraid to keep on living and yes, most definitely I am afraid to walk this world alone but you know what? Whatever happens I am not going to be alone. I will always find My Chemical Romance next to me. It doesn't betray me and it doesn't judge or critisize me. I grow and change and love and hate but it stays beside me. It's something I don't have to dress up for. It's there for me no matter what I look like.

Yes. I still think life is shitty. But I'm going to live it anyway.

XOXO,
Joanna

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