The Nightshade Princess
2001-11-15 03:23:51 (UTC)

Lipstick and Bruises

I spent early this afternoon holding back my tears
until something finally broke inside me whilst I was on the
phone with my beloved LesTaT. Eventually, we made plans
for him to come over for a few hours. I spent most of that
time wrapped up in an extra comforter that was lying on the
couch. Mother bought it before she left.. it was a rather
disgusting shade of bright pink, but it served the
purpose. Yesterday, I was wrapped in the same comforter,
in almost the same place on the couch, fighting the same
waves of sadness... and for largely the same reasons. I
really thought I would have mended by then, but apparently
not. LesTaT is completely beyond words. He made me laugh
even when my mascara and eyeshadow (which are nearly the
same dark shade) ends up just beneath my eyes. He led me
to the bathroom mirror and tried to show me the beauty he
sees. I could not see it, but fell further in love with
every touch.
Robert did this for me yesterday eve, and to him I am
very thankful. He ran several blocks to get to my house,
because I couldn't stop talking and thinking like I'd given
up on my own life. He simply showed up at my door, and we
spoke for a time. That is a really good example of true
friendship. I'm working on a special name for him that I
think he shall enjoy. Thank you for being there when I
needed you, and for doing your very best to make me laugh
or at the very least smile with moist eyes and black
streaks down my face. Both of you boys have helped me more
than you may ever know. Where would I be without you
around to tape, glue, staple, and nail me back together? I
really don't want to think about that now.
LesTaT found my newest temporary (I hope) scars from
yesterday. They are small this time, about 3/4 an inch
long for the most part. They criss cross each other as
well, forming a distroted hourglass shape with a line
through it, still quite crimson. It isn't over the veins
of my wrist anymore either. LesTaT just held me and told
me that he is there whenever I need him. It feels
wonderful to be held in that way once again.
Yesterday, I also lost it on the bus. I become
claustrophobic and panicked when there are people all
around me and they are making a lot of noise. Heat doesn't
help the matter. Well, scientists have yet to figure out
why, when placed on a regular school bus, practically
everyone feels the need to scream at the person who is
sitting not 1 foot away. If someone tells a joke, everyone
raises their voice to a rather painful volume (and also
pitch, usually), and claps their hands loudly. Yesterday
afternoon, I had been feeling awful. My entire week has
been unpleasant to say the least. We didn't get but a few
hundred yards from school on the vehicle-choked mid-
afternoon roadways, when I completely lost control and
started screaming at no one in particular that they didn't
have to scream and that they should all just shut up. I
used different words for this, and put the word "fuck" or
some variation of it ("fucker," "fucking," etc.) in between
every other word I used. I tried to stop a couple of
times, but I physically could not. The entire ordeal
scared me because I've never had an attack of THAT nature:
there were no hallucinations, no delusions, no shoulder
pain, and it didn't last more than 5-8 minutes, unlike my
normal attacks, which are the reason I avoid pep rallies at
all costs, because they seriously do some awful damage to
my mental and emotional state for the rest of the day. It
scared me because one moment I was mildly irritated, and
the next I completely panicked and lost control.
I'm alright now, but I can never confront the reason
for these terrible experiences. He cannot be touched by
any blame, or else I will be killed. I cannot defend
myself, even weakly, for I am always wrong. When he sees
this sickness that has consumed me, he seems to finally
notice I exist, seems to act kinder until I am "well"... He
made granola today, though he doesn't usually eat
breakfast. I think he has figured out my eating problem
several weeks too late, as usual. Oh well...