This made me giggle...

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My back yard is a parking lot! Seriously! FIVE people, FIVE cars- except now there's six because of my brother's girlfriend. Slightly irritating because I couldn't get into the garage (a luxury spot) and I kind of needed to because I have to check the air pressure in my tires. I thought about knocking on my brother's door and asking her to move it but... eww. I don't even want to know.

I cut my hair- a lot. Chalk it up to spring cleaning and a brain aneurysm. It's been something like a year and a half since I last cut it and now instead of having hair flowing lovely down my back, it's short and hugging my chin. I've gotten a few compliments and a few well thought of insults. I can happily accept both. It's very strange to have hair that I can't- even if I wanted to- pull back in any way. It's too damn short! All I can think about is that it will grow.

Spring break is over for me, and tomorrow (today almost) marks the last day of my first week back. It's been rough! I'll get there though, one day at a time...

I love it when I get random emails from strangers asking me why I'm so sad, or do I need help?

apparently...

No but seriously. It makes me think. Let me spill for a second here and maybe this will answer a few questions. First off, the whole depression thing:

I've sadly always thought that depression was really common, common cold common, but maybe I was wrong about that. I write out the crap that bothers me in that respect because I thought that maybe someone somewhere would get me, know exactly what I was talking about and just that thought made/makes me feel better. But maybe I was just kidding myself.

Life is wonderful when good days out weight bad ones, but the funny thing about that is when I'm on a high like that I never really want to stop and think about it, analyze it, or smother it to death. So I never really write about the good times and that's a sad fact. But I do have good times. Lots of them really. A million moments of happiness have led up to me sitting here typing.

So I tend to be pessimistic and sarcastic in my writing which I guess makes even what I would consider the good things to sound bad- or maybe I have my own weird way of reading between the lines that no one else does get- which would make me seriously reconsider my chosen field of study... But seriously!

As far as whether or not I "need help" ???

I'm pretty sure that I'm ok. There have been times when I have seriously questioned my existence and whether or not I agreed with it but all in all I'm happy to be alive. This past section (I've decided to break my life span apart in a way other than years which I will not go into right now) has been more of a turning point for me than getting my first period. It's like everything I've always been waiting for is knocking me in the face but just out of reach and it leaves me anxious and nervous because who knows what is in store for me in the months to come but all in all I welcome it. I figure it's normal, right? I mean if I really stop and think about it I am in a very much "in between" period. Not quite here but not quite there either but everything is going to start to change again very quickly very soon.

Soooo.. because I'm sick of thinking on my last night of freedom, for the record I really do like when people email me about things that I have posted, no matter the content, no matter the opinion. I really do wish someone would email me about a story or an expert that I have posted in the archives somewhere but I won't hold my breath about that. (Speaking of... I wrote a bit at 4am the other night in my journal and it turned out sleepy but an interesting take on a fairy tale. I will probably be typing it out tomorrow and reworking it a bit. Maybe someone will see it here soon!)

G'night!

I didn't drink last night, like I thought that I would. I did smoke a bit, just a bit... The point that should be noted was that I spent the night alone- really alone. No parents home, no older brothers. I. Was. Alone. I felt good about it. It reminded me of when I was house sitting and stuck out all by myself- except this time I probably could have called someone (proobablah) but I just didn't. I switched off my social skills and became a hermit, bundled up in my favorite corduroy blanket and watched girly movies all night.

I know that my reactions to anything have been completely unpredictable lately. My mood is like avoiding invisible trip wire (and/or impossible not to set off) and I can't tell you why or how not to make me crazy but just that it is what it is right now.

I'm too sensitive.

So on a much more fun note, while waiting for my boyfriend, I've decided to drink as much as I can until he decides to call me... Which probably won't be for a while... Or right now... Wow!

So the root of the problem is that I feel easily disappointed lately. This obviously goes back to the sensitivity thing. I have, to try to counter this, began to set standards in every respect possible, as low as possible. So if you say you're going to call I will typically think that you won't. If you say we'll do something at a certain time, I'll think that it won't happen until hours past when. I'm used to walking into my kitchen and finding nothing to eat- even when I left half a pizza in there just last night... Mother fuckers...

But I have to go now. I'm out of rum and there's a surplus of beer in the garage! Drunk writing rules. Maybe I'll come back with some short fiction for you...

I can't seem to find the solution anymore, the release that I need. I haven't felt so strongly, so sick, in so long... I keep having these really wicked thoughts... I swear someday you'll hate me.

As an update, because I find this ridiculous...

My doctor didn't know what was wrong with me. He said it was a viral something or other so they had to draw blood. FUCK! I hate hate hate needles. At least I didn't cry this time. I was actually proud of myself considering how little I'd eaten in the days before. So they took the little red vials away and told me they'd call when the results were in. I figured I'd hear from them by the end of the day. Wrong! So I got antsy and having the worst headache continued from Friday still throbbing away I called to see if they knew and could get me some meds. The nurse that answered was actually pleasant (a rare thing at this office- the desk people are usually bitches) and informed me that the results wouldn't be in until THE END OF THE FUCKING WEEK. I kid you not! So really I still have no clue what has been wrong with me. All sorts of fun things have crossed my mind, like some crazy brain aneurysm or mono or bird flu or a psychotic tapeworm or whatever but I have spent the past few days wondering if I might die.

But there is good news here. I convinced them to prescribe me pain killers. Tramadol actually. I'm a fan of the name and the pills are so little and cute. I took one right away and it worked completely and made me feel almost stoned for about an hour. The little bottle told me that it may cause dizziness and drowsiness so I shouldn't drink (ha!) or operate complicated machinery when I'm high on them. Good to know right? Oh, and I get a refill on these babies as long as its before March of next year. Woo Woo!

Maybe tomorrow I'll actually find out what has been wrong with me- now that I'm feeling 90% better... Probably not though. I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't find out until Monday, though it'll more likely be Friday. Blah.

So today I cleaned out my sick room. New bedding and all that laundry fun. There was dusting and straightening and taking stock on all the work for school that I had to do. Oh man do I have a lot of work to do!! I got a letter in the mail about "commencement" and my mom kept calling me a journalist. "Oh there, JOURNALISM!" while looking at the grouping for the ceremony times. I wanted to punch her in the ovary.

Love is looking up these days...