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2014-05-19 16:05:17 (UTC)

Conversations With Myself, Part One

"One Headlight" by The Wallflowers

So long ago, I don't remember when
That's when they say I lost my only friend
Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease
As I listened through the cemetery trees

I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn
The long broken arm of human law
Now it always seemed such a waste, she always had a pretty face
So I wondered how she hung around this place

Hey, come on try a little
Nothing is forever
There's got to be something better than
In the middle
But me & Cinderella
We put it all together
We can drive it home
With one headlight

Monday May 19, 2014 5:08 PM

I thought long and hard about this entry. Not that it was my choice to think about it so long. No, I had to wait through school, my twenty minute walk home, and then my dad took me to get a bike. Now I'm finally home, debating whether or not to go to peer leadership.

It's that one club in which I said 60% of the reason I was going back was that one cute kid. He didn't come to another meeting, though, and I've been to like four or five. I luckily cried only once.

I'm probably not going today for reason I don't feel like listing. I'm in a much better mood than it sounds. I'm kinda confused, though.

Confused and without closure regarding my status as bipolar NOS.

Like, most of the time I think to myself, "What the fuck is wrong with these doctors, I'm obviously not bipolar so they need to shut the fuck up."

(I say fuck a lot, I know)

But right now, I'm not so sure they suck.

Because... how is it that yesterday, I woke up so depressed. Depressed enough to cut again, which I did. Then later that day, happier than I can describe.

I felt amazing. Everything I did was perfect and funny and I loved myself. I really did. I woke up feeling that way, too, so I've been really social all day.

I even befriended this lady downtown. She was outside for a smoke and I was outside waiting with the bikes my dad was buying in the store. We had a conversation and I thought to myself, "YOU ARE HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH ANOTHER HUMAN BEING INSTEAD OF RUNNING FAR, FAR AWAY, GREAT JOB!"

Yay for me. So that makes me wonder if I'm bipolar. How can I get so sad and then a few hours later, so happy? It would be great to get some closure on this, even though I don't need it.

I don't want another person telling me I'm on the fucking bipolar spectrum. Tell me something I don't know. Tell me if I qualify as bipolar 1 or 2. As far as I'm concerned, if I'm neither of those, I'm good enough to be classified as a normal human being.

More annoyingness! I keep like boys. I CAN'T DESCRIBE HOW ANNOYING THIS IS. The slightly-more-mature-than-your-average-fifteen-year-old part of me is so disgusted with myself.

She says: You are better than this. Learn from all your TV shows and books. All guys do is make girls crazy. Don't be that girl who pretends to be someone she's not. Don't be the girl who throws herself at her latest crush.

Normal me: Okay, first of all, it's okay to like guys. I'm always wanting to be in love!
I'm always wanting a boyfriend!

More mature me: Funny how you're saying its okay to like guys. You like a guy but you don't like that you like him. And why is it that way? Because he's not what you imagined to be your first boyfriend? How shallow can you get?

Normal me: Okay, you're right, I was expecting to like someone... perfect. Which is strange since I work hard to stay away from stereotypes. Now that I think about it, the person I imagine is beautiful, he's like me but better, and yeah. All I feel for this other real guy is an intellectual hard on. 'Cause unlike all those other people, he's not stupid.

More mature me: He wouldn't like you anyway. So let it go.

Normal me: I don't think letting go with be hard (struggles to not think about Frozen).

More mature me: (struggles not to sing, "the cold doesn't bother me anyway") Right..... yeah.... okay....sooooo

Normal me: He's too much like Ethan anyways, which seriously grosses me out because Ethan is like my dad AND I WOULD NEVER LIKE EITHER OF THEM THAT WAY. LIKE EW. EWWW. I can't convey how much this disgusts me.

Mature me: You do know that most women date people like their father, right? It's natural.

Normal me: I realize but it's also a little hard to look past. Also the guy isn't popular. Oh my god, you're right, I am shallow.

Mature me: I know. I was gonna say I'm always right, but then I wouldn't be able to call myself "slightly more mature" so I'm gonna pass.

Normal me: You're clever because by telling me you are refraining from saying that, you kind of said it. But with honor. I can't wait to be you.

Mature me: I need to stop having conversations with myself. You. Are. Me. Capisce?

Normal me: Ew you said capisce.

Mature me: I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth.

Normal me: sooo... I have personal stuff to attend to... so, yeah...

Mature me: Stop playing pretend, WE have personal stuff to attend to. Mostly me since we are hopefully mostly me. At least, when we're alone.

Normal me: Did you hear that Veronica has decided to be more weird around her friends?

Mature me: Yeah! She kept trying today but it was difficult to reveal her true self.

Normal me: Okay we need to stop.

Mature me: I agree, fatso.

Normal me: Shut the fuck up.

Mature me: You only replied that way 'cause you know it's true.

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