HowToHollyBean.com

Tuesday, March 28th

My mom said I should start a blog. That it would help with my depression and shit, or something.

I don't know. Is anyone even reading this? Probably not.

I thinkIt's funny that only now has my mom, suddenly voiced her worry about me and mental well being whenIt's only been the last few days that I've finally felt so alive. Parents are blind.

Like this blog if you agree. That is how you become like, internet famous right? Tell people what to do?

Like my blog if you think cats are cute. (I mean, I hate them, but I wanna seem 'likeable' to masses)

Check my blog everyday if you think unicorns are magical (I don't but I want the scene kids in the world to worship me like a god and crucify anyone who thinks I'm anything less that jesus himself)

Whatever.

Anyway, I guess, I'll tell you a bit about myself, if that's the right thing to do.

Um,

Uy name is Holly. Holly Bean. Yup, my last name is Bean. It's pretty stupid. Kids in my grade class used to call me Mean-Bean. I wasn't really mean but it rhymed, and rhyming is all the rage in grade 2. Uh, I have brown hair, but I like it a teal color, my eyes are emerald green, I am 22 years old, and I am a psychic. I know what your thinking. this is just another, "gag-me-and-open-your-spiritual-third-eye-blog" isnt it? but I'm not screwing with you. I hate yoga, and I don't think I know the full definition of meditation. but I'm hella psychic. I think that's the word, I don't know fully. This only happened four days ago, and well, I'm still kinda freaking out about it. Ill try and tell you the story as best as I can, and I guess, go from there?

Oh, I don't know.

Like this blog if you don't know how to tell stories.

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So, four days ago, that would have made it, friday the 24th. I was working a 8½ hour shift. Little background information as to the cause of episode I'm very gracefully leading up to, my boyfriend just broke up with me. We had been dating for almost two years. That two years of my life wasted on this prick--

Sorry, we aren't here to talk about him. We are here to talk about me. so anyway, friday. Ryan had broken up with me, maybe two days prior to-- over text might I add-- and I'm a mess. You should also know that I have severe anxiety and depression as well as a couple other issues all diagnosed and medicated by my very understanding and loving shrink that my very connected and important mother hired for me. (if you can't hear the sarcasm in that sentence you're reading the wrong blog)

Friday. Work.

If anyone works in the retail industry you know that friday right around 4pm is the busiest time of the week. Teens are done school for the weekend and most of them got paid and now they want to spend their money, on the new dress they are going to wear at the party that is in four hours. So, as I was checking out some idiotic bimbos skimpy dress she starts chatting with her friend. "Oh my god, becky you aren't going to believe what jason said to me"

"Omg, like, no fucking way"

"Like, yes way"

"Omg really, he did not, like, sleep with that slut did he?"

"Yeah, like honestly, just because he is 'dating' her doesn't mean he needs to like rub it my face I mean, he said he loves me, like god you would, like, think that like, counts for, like, something?"

Did I mention my boyfriend cheated on me?

So, by any stretch of the imagination, I lost my cool. A bit. On minute, I was scanning this bitches handkerchief dress and the next moment, I'm over the counter, screaming in her ear. I don't really remember what I said fully, but I think I called her a baby prostitute and threatened to call her mother if she doesn't go home and start an abstinence church group in her high school so that maybe she can redeem her pathetic existence before satan drags her down to hell, and them spit her out, because he doesn't want an infestation of crabs in his institution. And then the next moment I was I crying on the floor. A proper response I would assume, but everyone was staring at me, which only made my anxiety worse, which only made me cry louder, which made more people crowd, and it was just this vicious cycle.

This is when shit gets weird okay? And I swear by everything real and not real, the next paragraph I type out if 100% real.

So, there I was crying, when suddenly, my manager breaks through the crowd. And he is the last person I want to see, I mean, yeah, he can clear the store, and he does that. He pushes people away except for deb, who was working with me, and he closes the whole store down. And he doesn't just, "get out, go away, come back later" he closed the gates and told the crowd to scat, that the store was closed for the evening. And then he was walking towards me, and he looked pretty scary, eyes wide and pace rushed and my whole body got hot. Like it was on fire. All at once. And then, my hands felt like they were starting to vibrate. Not enough for me to notice in the moment, but enough that it reminded me my hands were there. And then something came over me, and I raised my hand to tell him to stop. And he slid back. Not, like, he stumbled back a bit, but he went back four or five feet back into the clothing rack. My hands were burning, I glanced down at them to notice the burns that had formed on them and places on my palms and fingertips that were starting to blister already. Deb had quit talking or trying to calm me down. And instead she was taking slow steps away from me, I mean if it was me, and I saw that happen I would back away too. I wanted to tell her I'm not going to hurt her I never would, I'm good, but as I accidently raised my hands to show I don't want to hurt her, everything off the shelves behind her lifted. They didn't fly anywhere or anything too too dramatic, but for at least five or sixe seconds I have every article of clothing mid air. Just floating like I used wingardium leviosa on everything. I remember my manager saying "how are you doing that?"

And then I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Bandages around my hands and up my arms a bit and they still hummed with that uncontrollable heat. I had IVs and stuff sticking out of my arms and tubes attached to my neck and my mother, laid over my lap, hair slightly messy, which never happens considering that my mother is '"a very important business woman with expectation and a reputation to uphold." so I shifted my leg, with felt like I just down 350 squats might I add, so I yelped in pain when I shifted my weight. That woke her up. She sprung up, lipstick smudged to one side, and eyeline running and she looked like a general mess. I smiled weakly, unsure how she would react when I told her that her daughter is the real life incarnation of jean grey. "Hey kiddo, how are you feeling?" she asked me, after she realized I was awake. I nodded. "I'm okay mom, a little freaked out because--"

"Well no wonder a computer exploded in your face! The doctors said you're lucky your hands flew in your face they way they did while you were standing there, because if not your whole face would be ruined! I'm just glad you're okay. The doctor also said that when you woke up they would just have to run some tests and then you could go home to finish healing. Your really lucky Holly."

This is when I tell you that I corrected her and she was shocked but okay with it, and now I'm traveling with the circus as the new hit freakshow. But I didn't.

I just went with it.

"Yeah, mom, I'm lucky alright. I don't really remember what happened..it all happened so fast.." I muttered. I admit, I may have played it up a bit. To be fair, I didn't know how thick my manager and deb laid it on, considering they are both, big fat liars.

"Oh sweetheart!! It must have been so horrible!" my mother wailed. At some point she broke down in tears and was sobbing in my lap, which might I add, hurt because of my mysterious leg-day bruises.

After a few hours and a few doctor visits I was in a wheelchair being wheeled out to my mom's bmw. "Honestly doc, I'm okay, I can walk." I complained, when they wheeled me to the elevator. "Honey, just let the nurse do their job,It's not a big deal." my mother huffed as we stood at the front desk and collected the rest of my belongings. I remember being really nervous to get my clothes back, because they would be unburnt and I would be expected to explain that. But, when the clothes came over the counter the sleeves were a charred mess. Finally, the nurse stopped at the door, to let me stand up, and I instantly regretted it, because I kinda forgot, my legs from my hips to ankle were black. she laughed and helped me to the car and my mom helped me from there.

I came home and spent most of the day in bed, mostly because my legs were bruised, and finally my mom gave me a link to a domain name that I could blog on. told me that it would help. keep my sanity or some shit. so after at least a day of pretending she didn't give me the blog, I thought I would give it a shot.

besides, if the government comes to do tests on me, at least one or two people will know. because I stopped posting.

So, yeah.

Go like my blog.

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