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2019-10-18 00:24:35 (UTC)

"Humiliation" by the ..

"Humiliation" by the National [a song about a man's absurd and ridiculous death—I love this song. It affects me like a short story]

All the LA women
Fall asleep while swimming
I got paid to fish them out
And then one day I lost the job

And I cried a little
I got fried a little
And she laid her eyes on mine as she said, "Babe, you're better off."
Under the withering white skies of humiliation
Under the withering white skies of humiliation [really good line]

October 18, 2019 12:25 AM

Things have been.

Grandma is fine. Or, stable at least. Still with my grandpa's words in my head: "This kind of thing only goes in one direction." But she's not going to die tomorrow or the day after and now I am going to wait and keep waiting and I'm going to feel guilty and I'm going to want to throw up into my cupped hands.

I had this day, I can't remember when—I think it was yesterday, or this morning. It felt so good. I felt really good. Oh, I remember—it was last night. I felt so good I wanted to get out my skin. Like, my anxiety was still crawling, but I felt so happy. I had my literature workshop on Wednesday and I got really nice feedback. But what made me happier, was that when I left class and walked out of the building, Melvin ran to catch up with me, matched my pace and smiled at me. I wished I could grab his hand. I just wanted to kiss him on the nose, and the cheekbone, wanted to feel the space behind his ear. I still want that. I like him so much, I really, really do. But I'm so hesitant—I want to be his friend. He does things, runs up to me and all that, but I feel stupid, because I think he's just friendly. But why me? Is it because he already knew my face? I'll give him one of my ribs.

Jesus, I need to calm down. Sorry. I'm doing pretty awful and it's making me kind of desperate for some form of reciprocation.

It's just—he does all these really small things that make me like him so much. Because it shows he pays attention to everything by habit. He's extremely perceptive, and that is so attractive. He helped me out with a video team meeting the other day. He helped one girl in particular, and I wanted to laugh, because I don't really think he was helping her to flirt—I think he just figured I had one side of the room and he had the other. Anyway, I had the feeling she must've been falling in love with him already, because I know over the summer when he'd look over my shoulder like that, it killed me a little, lmao. Maybe I'm crazy and paranoid, I just think I see girls crushing on him. Well, one other girl in particular, in our class; she's always looking at him across the room. He's very pretty, so it makes sense. I dunno, am I biased? When I first saw him in May, I honestly thought he was an 18-year-old (he was actually 22 lmao). I, y'know, immediately found him attractive until he started talking, and then I figured he was a try-hard and it annoyed me, and then that quickly turned around again.

Anyway, in the video meeting, at the end I was packing up to leave and I realized I'd forgotten to log off all of the computers and so I groaned; but he said, "Oh, I already did it," like it was no big deal. Most people don't do those things. They're not that considerate. Which is OK. But I was just... shocked.

I want to ask him to hang out with me outside of class, but I'm not sure how. I was going to ask today if he wanted to see a movie, but when I saw him, he was occupied with other things and I was, like, about to have anxiety attack anyways (partly for the nerves, partly for other reasons). I do want to ask him about taking leave from school, genuinely, because I am starting to consider it if my mental health continues going the way it is going. The thing is, if I continue feeling this way, I probably shouldn't date either which really... fucking sucks, but lol!!! whatever!! hahahahah!!! I'm a little scared to ask. I kind of don't want to tell him I'm doing badly, but I don't want to lie either; it's not that I don't think he'd understand, it's that I don't want to be The Girl Who is Mentally Ill, you know? I want to be the kind of dorky weird girl who has her own brand of charm or something... I don't know that that's who I am, but I can pretend, lmao.

I mean. I haven't masturbated in I don't even know how long. It feels shameful again; which may mean I am doing badly? Or it could be functioning independent of my all-around awfulness, but probably not, right?

Oh. Also. While I was walking out of Literature with Melvin, another guy joined our conversation and he was really cool!!!! I want to talk to him again!!!!! He wrote on my piece, that I was a "talent," which I think is a huge exaggeration but it was so fucking nice. I'm glad he connected with my style so much. And he also seemed to understand some things about my writing that not everyone else got, which was really fucking satisfying. He mentioned, in discussing the the story I wrote (which was about a little girl who was afraid of books stealing her soul at night—sounds whimsical bc it is haha), that it described a very "isolated childhood," which almost made me cry. Because I did base it off my own childhood environment—of being surrounded by things that were not mine, being put into a space that wasn't mine, going off alone and making my own sense of the things around me, coping with fantasy. Normal kid stuff, except that I didn't socialize much and I had a pretty nightmare-ish imagination.

It flattered me—that someone fucking... saw that.


Sunday: I think I definitely cried on this day
Monday: lots of crying. My therapy assignment—probably confide in my friends so I can feel less isolated.
Tuesday: met with a dean, got a dean's note so I didn't have to take my exam on Wednesday, the justification being family and personal issues. I cried in his office and it was embarrassing. I've never felt more fucking... low. I missed work because I was crying a shitload. When I got home I basically just vegetated in my own sadness.
I told Nadiya about it, kind of by accident. What had been happening and all that. I was so surprised by how well she took it, how easily she transitioned between listening to me and cheering me up, you know? I don't know.
Wednesday: I already went over that in disgusting detail.
Thursday: It was fine. I was, as I have been most days since last week, excessively tired. I started to get really anxious and wired around 3:30 PM and by the time 5:30 came around, I had a presence in my throat. And I tried to write to calm myself down, I tried to walk around in the air for a bit; I went to study with Karina at 7. She's been having a rough time because her boyfriend asked to take a break, and I wanted to be there for her. But what ended up happening, is that at 8 I started having some sort of doom spiral, in which I reported to Marie via text, that I wanted to run away and get a job as a janitor and pretend I was a mute (Cuckoo's Nest shit, basically) and then eventually get stabbed to death on my commute home, get buried in an unmarked grave and finally achieve peace!!! And soon after that I ended up crying in the stairwell. I got better, went back to my desk, started crying more and Karina watched me. Then I tried to focus again. Shook my head and went back to the stairwell, this time Karina followed me, and she hugged me and told me it was okay, and that everything would be okay. I sobbed, and it echoed, and I could hear voices, and I knew if I could hear voices then they could hear me sobbing but I couldn't control it. She hugged me until I calmed down and then we went to the bathroom and wiped our tears away. I love Karina so much. I don't know why she is so nice to me. I was so panicked; I still feel panicked. I feel shitty that I'm so incapable of being... okay.
I don't even have a reason anymore.

I spoke to Nadiya tonight, about what happened, and I shared my anxieties that, you know, I'm never going to be... okay. I said my thoughts out loud, about, like, wishing I could kill myself but I'm too scared, etc. etc. I said I'd been fragile for fucking six months, which is true. June and July were shit and then after that I felt like I was okay, but not necessarily sustainably okay. The whole grandma thing was just the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of it, and yes I said that instead of using a normal word like "catalyst," and no Nadiya didn't know what I meant, and I am very happy that this stupid information comes out of me for dumb fucking reasons.

Nadiya made me feel so much better, though. Just by, like, contradicting me. Because I feel, just. Guilty, you know? For not being able to do simple things, like my homework, lmao. Or my oral exam, or my linguistics exam. I just sleep. Or I sit in bed avoiding my own thoughts. She said, "I hope this isn't mean, but from my perspective, it's like you asking if you should be doing well after you got hit by a car. And broke your legs. And your arms. And you can't move your legs or arms." Which I thought was really funny.

Anyway. My head hurts.

She also said a nice thing, separate from this, which was that she likes speaking about Russian (language) with me. That was nice. OK goodnight. Fuck.

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