We're all a little messed up, but We're all beautiful: journal entries, stories, & raw emotion

By Courtney Hoole

"We're all a little messed up, but We're all beautiful" will make you laugh, cry, and think. It shares a series of journal entries consisting of the author's battle with mental health, work challenges, heartbreak, preparing for deployment, and more. Sharing the real, honest, and sometimes heartbreaking side of life, this book dives into the complexities of being human. This book is about finding peace with who you are.

These entries, combined with the author's short stories describing her life from middle school to present-day, are dedicated to all the lovely people out there who feel like they can relate in some sort of fashion. Whether it be her raw journal entries, her weird, adventurous stories, or maybe her heart-breaking truths, everything in this book was written to help you endure, heal, and keep moving forward.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667810294

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We’re all a little messed up, but We’re all beautiful

journal entries, stories, & raw emotion

©2021 Courtney Hoole

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1-66781-028-7 (print)

ISBN: 978-1-66781-029-4 (eBook)

Dedication

This book is a series of journal entries I have written when going through mentally tough times while balancing out day-to-day work, a social life, heart break, and preparing for deployment. This, combined with short stories describing my life from middle school to now, is dedicated to all the lovely people out there who feel like they can relate in some sort of fashion. Whether it be to my raw journal entries, my weird, adventurous stories, or maybe with my heart-breaking truths. This is for those who think they are not normal for feeling every emotion under the sun and those who strive to find the laughter amongst the pain. Life is not a playground, it’s hard, it’s cruel, and it’s okay. We got this.

Contents

Journal Entry #1 6/20/2021

Intro

1. 2001–2006 Middle School/High School

Journal Entry #2 6/22/2021

2. 2006–2007: OMG, am I Gay?

Journal Entry #3 6/23/2021

3. 2007–2011 IUP: I Usually Party

Journal Entry #4 6/24/2021

Journal Entry #5 6/25/2021

Journal Entry #6 6/27/2021

Journal Entry #7 6/28/2021

Journal Entry #8 7/3/2021

Journal Entry #9 7/4/2021

Journal Entry #10 7/5/2021

Journal Entry #11 7/6/2021

Journal Entry #12 7/8/2021

Journal Entry #13 7/12/2021

4. 2011–2012: How Do I Adult?

Journal Entry #14 7/17/2021

5. 2012–2013: Boot Camp through My First Deployment

Journal Entry #15 7/18/2021

Journal Entry #15 8/2/2021

Journal Entry #16 8/3/2021

Journal Entry #17 8/16/2021

Journal Entry #18 8/17/2021

Journal Entry #19 8/21/2021

Journal Entry #20 8/22/2021

6. 2013–2014: Meg through My Second Deployment

Journal Entry #21 8/27/2021

Journal Entry #22 8/31/2021

7. 2014–2015: Booze Buddies through the First Half of My Third Deployment

Journal Entry #23 9/7/2021

8. 2015 August: Catfish

9. 2015–2016: Sam through the Second Half of My Third Deployment

10. 2016–2017: Sam through My Fourth Deployment

11. 2017–2019: Norfolk Bound!

Journal Entry #24 9/8/2021

12. 2019–November 2020: It’s All Fun and

Games Until You End up Alone

13. November 2020–May 2021: The Let Down

14. May 2021–August 2021: Coping

15. August 2nd, 2021–August 16th, 2021: Road trip

Road Trip Journal

16. August 16th, 2021–Present: The Constant Battle

Journal Entry #25 9/9/9

***Warning***

Mom and Dad, you may find out some stuff about me that will upset you. I promise, this was never intended to make you feel bad. So, if you want to stay in bliss, shut the cover now and donate this book to someone who may find interest in it.

Journal Entry #1 6/20/2021

Let’s talk about mental health. Is it so wrong to admit that I suffer in this area? I feel like it is like I can’t say shit to anyone at work because then I will be labeled as weak and incompetent. Wow, what a hypocrite I am. I tell the young people who work with me to tell me if they’re feeling any type of way. Sad, depressed, anxious, suicidal. Tell me about it, so I can help you but then here I am hiding all my pain from everyone because I am strong, and I can do this on my own. What a load of crap. So, what helps me is to write this down, then read it and be like, Damn, girl, you need help.

Since I was young, I have always had problems with anxiety. That sucked, I mean it still does. Going somewhere without a plan, or showing up late, or walking into a crowded room by myself. That throws my insides into a spiral.

If I am not perfect, what happens then? I must redo and redo until it is immaculate because failing is the ultimate fear. I need to hear that I am doing a good job. I need it. If you haven’t told me yet twenty times today that you love me, then please tell me again because I may know you do, but these thoughts always creep into my mind that you don’t, so I need to hear it again. . . I know this doesn’t make sense to you, but in my head, it is all that makes sense.

It’s kind of funny, when I am at work now days, and people ask me how I do such a good job or how I am always on top of things, I just laugh and tell them it’s my anxiety. They all laugh back and possibly think I am kidding but, nope. I am dead-ass serious. Anxiety a lot of the time rules my life. I wake up in the middle of the night and need to throw up, I have to sleep on the couch. Then other days, I cannot even get to sleep because my mind will not shut off in the least.

I told my mom when I was 16 years old that I thought I had anxiety because at that time in my life, I couldn’t get the pit out of my stomach, and I couldn’t relax. I guess what I was looking for was some help, maybe to see a doctor but that never happened. You sort of learn to deal with it, I guess. Come to think of it, I definitely need to get past my fears of inconveniencing anyone. This shit is getting out of control and is affecting me at work as well as at home. I wish I could just feel chill more so over anxiety every day.

Anxiety—yeah that kills me, but it isn’t the whole cocktail that eats at me. I show a lot of signs of depression too. This isn’t all the time, but I know I feel a lot. I feel deeply. I think there has been a lot of times in my life where I wish I could push the pain out, not feel so much, not wear my heart on my sleeve. . . blah, blah, blah. . . anything that fires up my emotions. I wish I could calm those down. But then again, would that take away from who I am? Yeah, I wish sometimes I could harden up and be a cold bitch, but that shit would take away from who I am. I guess, I can’t wish too hard.

Intro

REWIND!

Let’s kick it old school and get a sense of who I am and where I come from.

I am totally about to give you the cliff notes on my life. If I gave you my full autobiography, it’d be a novel that would probably reveal way too much and the only people who would be able to choke their way through it would be my parents and possibly my brother if he got bored enough. So, I am going to touch on the evolution in my life and touch on the key milestones and key people who have played a large role in shaping me.

I will say, to all my exes that will totally find themselves in this book, it’s all love, baby. I promise no hard feelings. You all are amazing and have really been a huge part of me. So, please do not get mad, if you do. . . hit me up, you all have my phone number.

1. 2001–2006 Middle School/High School

Well, I am only going to go back as far as middle school and breeze right through high school. Mainly because I cannot write down all that I remember prior to this. All I can say is that I grew up in a good home in the suburbs of Pittsburgh. Well, we lived twenty minutes north of downtown. I lived with my two parents and my younger brother, Chris. Mom and dad had been together since they were fifteen years old, and they are still together to this day.

They did what they thought was best for Chris and I and sent us to a private Christian school in Plum. It was fine; I guess, I never started feeling indifferent about this until I found myself in middle school transitioning into high school. That school was all that I knew. I had been there since the first grade and was with all the same kids the whole time. I had no idea at the time that the education they were giving us was subpar, to be generous, but whatever, I was just there to hang out with my friends. Now, I have always been a handful, as my mother will tell you. I had a smart mouth on me that always needed to have the last word. . . a teacher’s nightmare.

To understand most of my middle school and high school years, we need to talk about my best friend, Alyssa. We were not always friends, but back in the sixth grade, she was the real one. This was the moment I knew that this girl was about to be my best friend. It all happened in whatever class we were in at the time. The teacher made us put our desks together. I, being a little bitch, did not like this idea at all. For whatever reason, I have no idea why I did this, but I took my pencil, and I stabbed her right in the arm. What a little shit, I mean I truly was Damien in that moment. I got up from my seat and walked out of the room and peered in through the little window at Alyssa, who was crying. As the teacher walked over to her, I looked her in the eye and made a hand gesture as to indicate that if she told on me, I would slit her throat. Morbid right? Alyssa didn’t tell on me and stopped crying. From that moment on, was known as the start of our friendship.

All through middle school, Lyss (Alyssa) and I were inseparable. I think this may have been because we both went against the grain a little bit. We weren’t the Barbie-type girls. We would much rather be hanging out with each other at her house obsessing over Fall Out Boy, Panic!, New Found Glory, or Taking Back Sunday. That’s just what we did. Well, that and hanging out with boys who would get us beer and cigarettes. You could find us outside of the mall wearing studded belts, Chuck Taylors, and flared jeans with a pack of Camels. I know, I know. . . we were so rad, who wouldn’t want to hang with us? Haha, a lot of people!

This trend for us progressed through high school until I put a strain on our relationship for a little bit. I and Lyss started hanging out with this older girl for a minute; she doesn’t even deserve to be named, but I will call her Amy. At that time, I had no idea what a narcissist was, but she was one. She used to always take Lyss and me around and get us to do whatever she wanted. It didn’t even have to be anything that big or mean much at all, but it was her way or the highway. She would convince us to go to the mall with her and spend eight hours there at a time and just walk around to the stores and steal a ton of clothes. I mean Rue 21 had no chance. Klepto Queens at our finest. Just go into the dressing room and layer up then walk out. I don’t know why we did it but it’s probably because I was so into doing anything rebellious at that time. If you looked up bad ass in the dictionary, you’d totally see our pictures. Amy used to use us for rides, use us to help her steal shit, and then use us to pick up groups of guys. Guys that we would have no interest in, but she was interested so. . . whatever she said was what we were going to do. I think we were fourteen or fifteen at the time; we didn’t know any better, but Alyssa was a little bit smarter than I was. Alyssa had enough and didn’t want to hang out with her anymore. I was still into doing whatever she desired, so then there was a divide. I had to choose between my best friend and this girl. I made the wrong decision and stopped hanging out with Lyss as much. Totally my loss.

Here I am doing more stupid shit with this girl. Why did I let her dictate everything we did and put up with all her lies? She was a killer liar. I’m talking this bitch could lie her way through any situation. I had witnessed her lie so effortlessly to her parents on the daily. It was so natural for her. She lied to them, I had heard her lie to her other friends, and I had heard her lie and manipulate men to get what she wanted from them, which was usually alcohol, money, or drugs. I can remember one night sneaking out of her window to walk a mile down the road to be picked up by some random guy. We went to a house party that had died down hours prior and all who were left were doing lines of white in a bedroom. I started thinking, Damn, I wonder how much she lies to me to get me to do what she wants? Maybe looking back on it, she was probably my first girl crush. I just didn’t know it at the time.

Who was I kidding; I didn’t care. I didn’t care what we were doing; I was just having a good time. I thought I was cool as hell. She had this way older boyfriend who consistently bragged about slinging heroine around town. There was a day that we all went to visit an acquaintance of theirs who was completely distraught because a friend had overdosed on smack because it was cut with too much rat poison. And here this boyfriend was proud of what he was doing? It didn’t click in my head that this was not normal; it was serious.

I feel like a complete idiot now that I had that mentality but growing up, it was hard for me to make friends. I was so freaking awkward. The biggest introvert ever; being in social situations made me cringe. Every little aspect of the situation makes me so uncomfortable. These fucks though; they really didn’t like me. She just wanted me around because she was addicted to having a friend with her all the time. I cannot even tell you how many times I loaned her and her boyfriend money. I say loaned extremely loosely.

Eventually our friendship ended abruptly. She convinced me to go with her to go egg this dude’s car that she didn’t like. I mean whatever, I’d do anything, so we went to the grocery store and stole some eggs out of the carton and stole some packs of cigarettes on the way out. Back then, they had cigarettes out in the open near the register, so we used to wear long sleeves and just slide a pack up while in line and then just buy a candy bar.

Anyway, we drove to where this dude worked then walked in the back and launched eggs at his car. Harmless enough, right? Wrong. We drove to meet a group of guys in a parking lot that was literally across the street from where this guy worked. NOT SMART. Well, the cops showed up and called our parents and gave us fines. When the cop got off the phone with my dad, he came over to me and said, Your dad said get your ass home. I knew I was a goner. I went home that night, got my ass chewed out, and my parents said I couldn’t hang out with Amy anymore. I don’t know why, but I flipped out. I went into full Exorcist mode. Looking back on it, it was because I was addicted to this girl, but it all worked out. Better things to come.

I and Alyssa reunited! After the egging incident went down, I apologized for being such an awful best friend and then, bam! We were back to what we were doing before, going to shows and cruising around in the Durango; we were the cool cats. That brings me to the next person who came into my life. Let’s talk about Kevin. Oh Kev, he went to high school with us. He was a year older than us; he had always been there. I just never looked at him in that way. He was the weird punk, drummer kid that literally walked to the beat of his own drum. He was not one of the popular kids He didn’t dress like everyone else. The things that mattered to most of the kids at the time, he just didn’t care about. I noticed him one day in the hallway, I don’t know why I never noticed him before but for some reason; that day I did. I think I noticed him because he had on a t-shirt that was way too small for him, and he had some killer pecs. That boy was looking good. Straight fox! He had naturally blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and six pack abs that were hard to ignore. He was the sweetest guy I had ever known, but he carried himself with an attitude that was challenging and just did not give a fuck. It was love, hahaha! I awkwardly flirted with him, and it just clicked. You can compare me to a black widow if you must. We started hanging out on the weekends, and eventually, we made it official. I was fifteen years old. So, he would come with me all the time to hang out with Alyssa. We would do everything together. Go to shows, have bitchin house parties (until we got raided by the police; have you ever seen a party of 100 people flee like roaches? Like Project X); we were doing all the things teenagers do.

As the years went on, still in high school, some things happened that really made me question the true intentions of my school’s philosophy. I came to believe that tolerance was a joke there; respect was given but only to those who followed the cookie cutter mold. Kevin was never looked at in a positive light; this wasn’t because of his actions but purely because of how he looked and his nonconforming mind. He questioned things, he asked those questions, and the teachers couldn’t answer his questions, so they resented him. Guilty by association, I was lumped into that group of troublemakers in school. I had already been there for some time due to hanging out with Amy, and now I was dating the punk boy with his own mind. Kevin’s parents took all their kids out of the school and then sent them to the public school, for which I don’t blame them. The private school was run by a bunch of entitled bigots pushing their own agenda. Why did I say bigots? Well, I didn’t even realize it, because I guess I just wasn’t paying attention. We had a class in our curriculum that was a Bible class. It was a religion class. That’s expected; it is a Christian school. Some things that were said on the lines of homosexuality were subtle, but they were there. Junior prom, they even put on the flyer that there were no same sex couples allowed. I remember thinking what the fuck. Why does all this even matter? People can be with who they want to. I remember feeling so alone because I had related to that, I thought maybe I had the capability of liking girls. Yeah, I was with Kev, and I loved him but that was always something that was there in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t dare tell anyone. Not even my closest of friends.

I graduated high school in 2006 as most good students do: with a successful underage drinking charge, my first run in with that girl pearl, and a virginity that had been knocked out of the park. Girl Bye!

Time out. . .

Journal Entry #2 6/22/2021

I feel like such a piece of shit.

I literally feel like an emotional stress ball inside, but I still can’t seem to tell anyone that I need a little help. I can’t do this on my own, but I feel like some days, I really can do this, and I have it all under control. I mean stress is good, right? Yeah, but when it gets to be too much, that’s not healthy. Problem is, how much is too much? Is the anxiety normal or nah? I know I have a lot going on in my life right now, a lot of moving parts, and a lot of variables in my future. . . fuck. I told Sam I’m drowning. She always is so endearing toward me, but she knows as well as I do, she can’t be any way, shape, or form a part of healing me. Dang, she is part of the problem. She cares though; she wants me to get help. It’s up to me to get the courage to seek it. . . I ain’t paying for no more therapy though. I get it, I am too hard on myself. How much you get paid to tell me that every session? Maybe I should go be a therapist for a living; I got the routine down.

Time in!

2. 2006–2007: OMG,

am I Gay?

Hello! I am finally out of high school; fuck that place! I was not ready for college though; I needed some time to decompress and think. What was Courtney going to do? This is a monumental decision! All I wanted to do was partyyyyyyy; I guess I could do that in college, huh? But I wanted to just work a little bit without classes. When I was sixteen, I got a job at a bowling alley called Fun Fest. Mom and Dad gave me the old If you want a cell phone, you need a job. So I got that job, and they threw at me If you want to keep working 30 minutes away, you have to buy your own car. Dammit, Mom, aren’t parents supposed to spoil their kids and buy them everything, in return teaching them nothing about responsibilities and the world? Duh. Anyway! This is where I met my current best friend, Nataley. This girl, such a damn bitch, I couldn’t stand her ass. She was so rude and had an attitude for days. Now don’t think I forgot about Alyssa; she had graduated high school too, and then went away to college, so our usual weekends of debauchery were way scaled down. Bummer. Do not fret, of course I found other people to get weird with. Back to Nataley, she was the epitome of RBF; for those of you unfamiliar with the term, resting bitch face was and will always be Nat.

We worked together since we were sixteen but really didn’t start becoming great friends until we were eighteen. Of course, we were friends and anytime anyone asks how long we have been together (as if we are dating), we say sixteen, but eighteen is when all the magic happened. By magic, I mean we both only had work so we needed to fill our spare time with anything that would excite us. Living in the town of Cheswick/Springdale. . . well, if you know, you know. There ain’t shit to do but get into trouble. We were going through this whole phase of If we aren’t working then why weren’t we drinking? Wait, I feel like we both still live by that motto. Oh well. She is a nurse now, and I have a career, so I guess we aren’t doing too bad. How would we get all that booze though? We were only 18; the only option here was to steal it. I know, any person with half a brain is thinking this too.

The vodka heist. Me and Nat obviously were two peas in a pod, but we had been close with a couple other people at work too. One being this sweet chick Ashley who was one of the bartenders and this party hostess named G. Now G was a year younger than us and still in high school but was addicted to trouble too, so naturally. . . we all became friends. This bitch got caught taking shots of vodka in the high school bathroom and chasing it with milk; she then got sent to a special school for children with behavioral problems. Funny thing is she is super successful right now with a wife and two beautiful kids; where did I go wrong? Just kidding, anyway, we will talk more about G later. Let’s get back to the vodka heist. Nat, G, and I needed booze. We knew that the bartenders had a locked room full of bottles. We did the deed when Ashley was not working (so not to get her in trouble). We waited and waited. We were like some lionesses in the plains of Africa stalking our prey. Eventually the bartender would leave the door open and walk away. Our patience paid off. At that point, Nat and I ran in, snatched a bottle while G drove to the back of the building, and we ran out and threw it in the car, then went back to work. Genius. Fucking smooth! Good times, taking shots of vodka and OJ in Nat’s moms’ basement while taking pictures; back then selfies were not a thing, so it was the classic computer camera photo shoot. Life was so simple then. Go to work, get drunk, throw some eggs on some cars. Repeat. Simple.

This leads me to my next adventure. Nat, G, and I would buy cartons of eggs (Yes, I bought them this time, and no, I didn’t learn my lesson.) and drive around Springdale, throwing eggs at parked cars. Coincidently enough, we did that one blissful summer evening and the next day we went into Nat’s moms’ tanning salon. This lady came in and was bitching to us about how someone egged her car. Nat calmly gave her the condolences she was desperately looking for, then told her, I don’t think the cops need to get involved; I am sure those kids won’t do it again. LIES. We road again that night!

This time it was G, her girlfriend, and I. We had traveled to Plum this time. No one was safe. G had some gripe with her softball coach and wanted us to egg his house. So, I let G drive my car while her girlfriend and I jumped out and ran toward the house. We launched a couple eggs at the house, then the door swiftly flung open. OH SHIT! It was the wife. I turned around and hauled ass back to the car, but girlfriend had a fucking mask on which prohibited her from seeing so well. She had no idea that large and in charge woman was booking it toward us. Oh well, save yourself I’m getting in the car. Turns out, I am the biggest idiot of all time and ran to the driver’s side. My car was a two-door, and G was in the driver’s seat. There was no time for her to move the seat forward with the fastest hippopotamus ever known to man charging to the street. Luckily, the girlfriend was able to jump in the passenger side, so I did what any survivalist would do. I put both feet on the ledge near the seat, put one hand on the door, and the other on the head rest of the seat and told G to DRIVE! Thank God I didn’t fall, but I did have a foot slip, those poor shoes. RIP. Anyway, we got far enough away, and I was able to squeeze in. Next time, I’m the get-away driver. Sheesh.

The next softball practice G went to, her coach reported the incident to his team and notified them that his little daughter was standing at her bedroom window when a flying egg forcefully slammed her window and traumatized her as she looked down upon the getaway. Oops.

Working at Fun Fest was a great first job. I got to work with my friends, my brother, and cousins. It was just a party that we got paid to be at. But during this time, I went through a lot of inner turmoil that no one would ever know about. This brings me to OMG, am I gay?; mind you I was still on and off with Kevin, but one day, I got a specific text message from