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2015-03-24 20:44:34 (UTC)


March 24, 2015 Tuesday 9:03 PM

Missed Peer Leadership today. I'm almost always there so that was weird. I wish I went. I didn't have time, though. As soon as I got home, I took a shower and started working on this poster for a Roy G Biv bridal shower. It's been almost five hours since then. I just finished. I'm sure I had other homework. I'm too tired to care. I was lucky that I didn't have practice today.

I'm feeling shitty and quiet. Very, very quiet in my head. Very quiet outside my head, too. Sometimes, I get louder. But mostly, I'm feeling very concerned and very uncomfortable and quite ready to run for my life.

I keep touching my hair. That means I'm nervous. I never noticed that before, but yeah. I bite my lips a lot and fiddle with my hair, bring it to one side, run my fingers through it, as if that'll make me feel like I'm not an invader in this body.

I don't belong here. My skin doesn't fit me.

I tap my foot, too. I look around, like I'm looking for someone in particular, and when I accidentally make eye contact (or even if I simply look at them) with someone I didn't want to think about, I snap away and feel horrible.

That's a regular thing, though. I look around without really knowing who I'm searching for. I don't know why. I try to fight the apathy in me, and try to figure out how it's possible to be so forgiving and so careless?

Like, how can I make excuses for the ones who bother me the most? While also not caring if people are dying in the streets or whatever?

I just... don't care. Maybe that makes me less human. I want to care, but it's hard when it all seems so vague and unreal, when there is no real face to put on an event, when I'm stuck in my mind where there are problems that haven't yet been solved.

I'd rather not be selfish like this, but then, I don't particularly mind because I'm so exhausted, I just don't give a fuck. This is a Fuck It month. March always is. Funny, because it's also the month with the least amount of vacations and the most pressure.

Fucking March. This is my least favorite month. Full of slightly-warmer-than-before weather, gross melting snow, slick ice, and the kind of air that makes your lungs catch. I mean, it's to be expected from winter months, but March is supposed to let up a little. I hate the gray skies or the too bright sunlight or pretty much anything that isn't 8 PM darkness.

I do love 8 PM. I get sleepy around that time. Usually, I'd have already showered and done my homework so I can just fuck around, waiting for my unofficial bedtime hour (10 PM, later if I'm being dumb, earlier if I feel shittier than average). 8 PM is twelve hours before the next stupid school day, and that's plenty of time to sleep (I'm kidding - I need at LEAST twelve hours, and I can't wake up when school is starting haha).

Mr. Sandwich was being weird today. He was telling me about how his sister killed himself. God, I hate that. I'm very sorry that that happened to him, but I get the feeling he mentions it to me for a particular reason.

I know he knows I tried to kill myself. I know Ethan or Caroline told him around the time it happened.

I don't want to talk about it, though. I thought I was over that, but when he brought up his sister, I got really tense and he was saying, "The worst part is, you're left not knowing. Not knowing why she did it."

I don't understand. How can you NOT know? It's the depression. It fucks with your mind and makes everything dull and horrible. If you saw things that way for a long enough time, you'd want to kill yourself too. You wouldn't want to talk about it either.

I'm not saying it's right, but I can't blame her. I hope he doesn't blame her either. She probably tried as hard as she could on her own. She needed more.

I've been coughing all week and I feel sick in a million ways.

Broken glass and whatnot in the mind. I almost miss when I used to be physically mean to myself. I can't do that anymore. I worry people will find out and send me away. I wanted that before, because I was confused, but now, I feel like that kind of help would be too much for me.

The taste of hospital food. They heated it up nicely, but my memory pretends it was always cold.

I want to cry and I almost did, but I don't have the energy. And I want to apologize to everyone I stopped talking to, but it's not like they can hear me. Being alone in your mind is so weird.

I feel so outside of myself, so alien. I can feel the worst of it, the wanting to die and the knots in the stomach, but I mostly only experience numbness. My thoughts are lethargic. Everything is slow. Nothing is interesting.

I wonder how long it'll last this time.

It always feels like forever.


I miss you.


I dunno, probably the person I'm always looking for. Or maybe the idea of a person. All I know is I miss you.

(Maybe that's why people believe in god. So they can put a name to those kinds of things)

Maybe, but that doesn't make god any more real.
I like to think maybe I miss an actual human being.

(And some people like to believe there's a god. What's the difference?)

Fine, so there's no person, I'm just being idealistic and hoping there is someone out there who I won't actually disappoint.

(That's depressing.)

*Eeyore voice* That's my personality

(No, you're actually fun and energetic sometimes)

Except for when I'm off medication for three months. Apparently, my mind forgot how to produce dopamine.

(It almost doesn't make sense. You're happy sometimes. You're ready and determined.)

Yeah. I don't get it. All I know is the amount of time I've spent thinking about dying is more time than I've spent enjoying being alive.

(??? Don't think so)

In the last three months?

(Okay yeah)

Yeah. Fuck. Goodnight. I can't stand the pain in my chest.

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