Song: The Streets (Dry Your Eyes Mate)
I sigh with relief. If this was couple of days ago, this song would have me bawling my eyes out. Now I can just listen to this, and unwind. I've been on my knees washing the bathroom for the last two hours.
I went to my therapist yesterday-shes nice enough, and blames everything on my mother. Ok, not everything, but she gives me enough to think about. I guess I should tell you the story:
When I was 6 months old, my mum left me. She was lying to my Dad and bro, not telling them she was a Jehovah's Witness. And because Dad just couldn't become one as well, mum had to choose between us and her religion (they don't allow Jehovahs and non-Jehovahs to be in the same family), and she chose religion.
So, 'sad' story. How does this affect me? All my life I've figured I don't need mum because she never really was one-she visits and says she loves me and I love her back-but she's not really a mother. My therapist(this is when she comes in) says that I was too young to understand the sadness I felt when she left and I didn't have any breast milk. And because I didn't have the emotional IQ I was a brat and I was misunderstood and seen as a stupid evil demonchild. And I always told myself to be independent and never feel sorry for myself, because I have a decent life, in some way or another. Thats why because when I was in year 6 or 7/8 I seemed quite blank. I was a fantastic actress. For five years, pretty much everybody believed I was this happy go lucky, larger than her pants lass.
And I went nuts because I could only find sadness when I delved, and I was letting go because I found I don't really care about my GCSEs at all. So, my the. says I should tell her a little bit about how I'm feeling, and I was thinking, maybe, come out to her. I've been having nightmares(she kills herself and then blames me because she says she can't live as the mother of a gay daughter. Nice.) and maybe just writing about them should end them...
And also, she said I have to let go of this image of myself: this fat, ugly, stupid, worthless bitch. It might have came from when I was twelve-scratch that it was probably primary school.
I still have to go in to school because some teachers just enjoy escaping me, for the hell of it. But thats next week. Annoyingly, I've realised I've got too much going on: seeing Ria on Friday(hopefully), then Pride AND Childrens Express on Saturday, then I'm seeing Mum on Sunday and I'm not ready to say anything just yet, unless she initiates it.(I am not running away.)Thats all for now, folks!
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Sunday, June 27, 2004
Useless Opinion
Here, is one of the first articles I@ve written. It can be improved-it needs a counter argument, but I like it as it is at the moment. Anyway, read, read!
The Generational Clash
In the run-down palace of the world, the Americans worry in their shield of oil, guns, crucifixes and hamburgers. Everyone is out to get them, from terrorists, to environmentalists and pacifists. Yet these problems are mostly the consequence of power and blind decisions. The world with its variations and magic, focuses on one nation.
That nation is going out of control with change and revelation. Once safe under the enchantment of religion, in itself, America tries to hold to this image in the wake of a new generation. Ultimately, these new contemporaries will succeed, but in this modern day it struggles for freedom-in this case, the free will of sex.
The fight against the liberty of sexuality is led by George. W. Bush, who has invested millions of dollars in the campaign for abstinence. Organisations such as the Silver Ring Thing spread themselves across American schools, drilling messages, and the rights and wrongs to the so called ‘sex-obsessed youth’. In America, the teen pregnancy rate is twice the size of Britain’s, diseases like HIV are getting to epidemic amounts and teenagers are having sex at a younger age. You could say that the new age of sexual freedom from marketing and television has poisoned our minds. Or maybe in this world where sex sells, our confusion is at a peak, and all we want is some direction, a bit of comfort on the rocky world of adolescence. But whose thoughts are those? Parents, teachers, teens, politicians?
From my observations and thoughts, that’s not how parents think. Parents the world over are scared for their children. They worry when they fall and scrape their knee, when they leave for school and have their first relationships. Parents fear teens’ vulnerability because of the new society. The generations’ emerging sexuality, young people’s assertiveness and their confusion within it: parents are terrified of it all.
Uniquely, America has managed to turn disasters, such as wars into cash. In this case in the conflict for control, they have used fear as a chain of products to generate money. In the last ten years, 2.5 million teenagers have taken the pledge to not have sex till they’re married at the convenient price of $12. The moral crusade for abstinence is big business. They are herded into another world by being preached to: in that world condoms don’t work, sex is dirty without a piece of paper, and all we need to get by is the unwavering, never-ceasing belief that God is good and righteous.
I feel that this can only stifle people, with their desires and queries, and that makes me incoherent with anger. How dare the politicians and sermonisers shove and bully my generation into a new wave of fear and confusion? If you tell people condoms don’t work, why would they use them? If the preachers dare to take off their crucifix-encrusted sunglasses, they can reminisce about when they were young and confused and they themselves were being herded into conformity by their elders. Do they really expect all the teenagers to stay celibate? This economy of fear and bullying can only lead to dangerous times and disastrous epidemics, all for the sake of control.
I can never understand when I hear people talking about how sex is wrong and wicked. When it’s safe, and when it’s consenting, sex is one of the most beautiful natural things in the world. If the government pushes one single ultimate choice in a world where variety makes the world go round, you are only placing people in a corner, and these days the people in corners fight back. It may have decreased teenage pregnancies, but what about teenage misery? Denying yourself to a person you love because of a scrap of wood pulp and the wrath of the government, dressed up in a priest’s robe, can only pave the way to craziness and extra angst that our youth don’t need. Parents need to experience the fear, and talk to their children anyway. Fundamentally I believe that is the best remedy for fear and coping with new age things: to confront them, find the comfort in them, maybe even understand them. That’s the only way we will defeat our perils. That way we can rid ourselves of our cloaks to reveal our true persona. What do you think?
The Generational Clash
In the run-down palace of the world, the Americans worry in their shield of oil, guns, crucifixes and hamburgers. Everyone is out to get them, from terrorists, to environmentalists and pacifists. Yet these problems are mostly the consequence of power and blind decisions. The world with its variations and magic, focuses on one nation.
That nation is going out of control with change and revelation. Once safe under the enchantment of religion, in itself, America tries to hold to this image in the wake of a new generation. Ultimately, these new contemporaries will succeed, but in this modern day it struggles for freedom-in this case, the free will of sex.
The fight against the liberty of sexuality is led by George. W. Bush, who has invested millions of dollars in the campaign for abstinence. Organisations such as the Silver Ring Thing spread themselves across American schools, drilling messages, and the rights and wrongs to the so called ‘sex-obsessed youth’. In America, the teen pregnancy rate is twice the size of Britain’s, diseases like HIV are getting to epidemic amounts and teenagers are having sex at a younger age. You could say that the new age of sexual freedom from marketing and television has poisoned our minds. Or maybe in this world where sex sells, our confusion is at a peak, and all we want is some direction, a bit of comfort on the rocky world of adolescence. But whose thoughts are those? Parents, teachers, teens, politicians?
From my observations and thoughts, that’s not how parents think. Parents the world over are scared for their children. They worry when they fall and scrape their knee, when they leave for school and have their first relationships. Parents fear teens’ vulnerability because of the new society. The generations’ emerging sexuality, young people’s assertiveness and their confusion within it: parents are terrified of it all.
Uniquely, America has managed to turn disasters, such as wars into cash. In this case in the conflict for control, they have used fear as a chain of products to generate money. In the last ten years, 2.5 million teenagers have taken the pledge to not have sex till they’re married at the convenient price of $12. The moral crusade for abstinence is big business. They are herded into another world by being preached to: in that world condoms don’t work, sex is dirty without a piece of paper, and all we need to get by is the unwavering, never-ceasing belief that God is good and righteous.
I feel that this can only stifle people, with their desires and queries, and that makes me incoherent with anger. How dare the politicians and sermonisers shove and bully my generation into a new wave of fear and confusion? If you tell people condoms don’t work, why would they use them? If the preachers dare to take off their crucifix-encrusted sunglasses, they can reminisce about when they were young and confused and they themselves were being herded into conformity by their elders. Do they really expect all the teenagers to stay celibate? This economy of fear and bullying can only lead to dangerous times and disastrous epidemics, all for the sake of control.
I can never understand when I hear people talking about how sex is wrong and wicked. When it’s safe, and when it’s consenting, sex is one of the most beautiful natural things in the world. If the government pushes one single ultimate choice in a world where variety makes the world go round, you are only placing people in a corner, and these days the people in corners fight back. It may have decreased teenage pregnancies, but what about teenage misery? Denying yourself to a person you love because of a scrap of wood pulp and the wrath of the government, dressed up in a priest’s robe, can only pave the way to craziness and extra angst that our youth don’t need. Parents need to experience the fear, and talk to their children anyway. Fundamentally I believe that is the best remedy for fear and coping with new age things: to confront them, find the comfort in them, maybe even understand them. That’s the only way we will defeat our perils. That way we can rid ourselves of our cloaks to reveal our true persona. What do you think?
Nothing can compare...
...To when you roll the dice and swear your love for me." (Finley Quaye, Dice)
At last, Britain is getting somewhere! Henman is in the fourth round-but its against Philippoussis,and hes pretty darn good. I love him.
I'm very annoyed. I wrote an impossibly long entry yesterday, and then my computer gave up on me before I got a chance to publish...it was all very happy and I wanted people see that Hey! I can be happy...
Anyhow, yesterday was about getting my life and my summer organized. I'm part of this agency called Childrens express. It's Ok, and its very journalistic. I hadn't been down to Islington since February and so I wanted to make a good impression. Of course, my Dad is annoyingly blaze about my passions andwe were half an hour late and practically missed the whole thing. I didn't want to just be in and out so I searched for stories and stuff to do. Its strange because I've been there for three years and yet I've never done a proper story-just some roundtable discussions. So, I ended up talking with this guy called Samir about all sorts of politics. It was nice to hear someone so focussed and uncondescending, so young. Plans: HIV conference on Ria's birthday (20th July), and I'm working with Samir and Fikir on that one. Then maybe an article on cultural identity. Sorry, my brother's talking again..:why do I bother? He thinks hes soo impressive, and I feel when I hear him talk, that I've just heard all this crap, all before.
Tomorrow: hopefully, I'm really praying here, my last day in school before August-I have to find all sorts of teachers and I'm finally talking to my therapist about the last two weeks. I'm sure she'll have lots to say. Then i leave, and find a comfy job washing dishes, and do...stuff. I'm a feeling a lot stronger.
At last, Britain is getting somewhere! Henman is in the fourth round-but its against Philippoussis,and hes pretty darn good. I love him.
I'm very annoyed. I wrote an impossibly long entry yesterday, and then my computer gave up on me before I got a chance to publish...it was all very happy and I wanted people see that Hey! I can be happy...
Anyhow, yesterday was about getting my life and my summer organized. I'm part of this agency called Childrens express. It's Ok, and its very journalistic. I hadn't been down to Islington since February and so I wanted to make a good impression. Of course, my Dad is annoyingly blaze about my passions andwe were half an hour late and practically missed the whole thing. I didn't want to just be in and out so I searched for stories and stuff to do. Its strange because I've been there for three years and yet I've never done a proper story-just some roundtable discussions. So, I ended up talking with this guy called Samir about all sorts of politics. It was nice to hear someone so focussed and uncondescending, so young. Plans: HIV conference on Ria's birthday (20th July), and I'm working with Samir and Fikir on that one. Then maybe an article on cultural identity. Sorry, my brother's talking again..:why do I bother? He thinks hes soo impressive, and I feel when I hear him talk, that I've just heard all this crap, all before.
Tomorrow: hopefully, I'm really praying here, my last day in school before August-I have to find all sorts of teachers and I'm finally talking to my therapist about the last two weeks. I'm sure she'll have lots to say. Then i leave, and find a comfy job washing dishes, and do...stuff. I'm a feeling a lot stronger.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Quickie again
I was supposed to spend an hour writing in my beloved blog, but I was reading Slash again. New link: This novel is called Underwater Light, and if you've all five Potter books, it can be a bit dizzying at times...but it's great.
Don't worry-you'll love it-just read it slowly. I didn't, and I ended up reading all 17 chapters only to find that Maya, the author hasn't written a damn thing since March, and now I have to forget the masterpiece and avoid hyperventilating. Or losing control. Which is getting so impossible these days.
I'm losing it. Because I'm not hurting myself, or hitting/cutting/whatever the fuck else I do to myself just isn't happening anymore, all the blackness in me is overcome in my eyes. I almost burst into tears three times today. Two times yesterday. I want to cry now... I'm so angry-this is exactly how I usually feel just before I cut myself, as if I'm psyching myself up..I'm a sick bitch. A sick, fat, stupid, hated bitch. Except I've been predicted eight A/A*s, I'm 'portly', I'm perfectly healthy and apparently 'everybody loves me'. I just want to let it out, and scream, and scream, and cut. I haven't gone this long without hurting myself in some way since I was 13 and I had these brilliant few weeks when I was so normal I just let it be-I realised I was bisexual(at the time). And because of my life, it didn't seem so big.
After all, I'm not exaggerating-it has been a shit day (Portugal scored!!!!!!!!!!!!I'm such a cow-I'm British for God's sakes! Go on, Porto!)...
I digress...what was I saying? Oh yes, today, it was my last exam, great because it was the last, that was it, no more uniforms or crap like that. However, I have now have no excuses for not making a mess of my life. And I'm so fed up, and I'm so tired, and so insomniac-inclined I know I'll be like this forever. And I lost £15 today-my birthday money-the money I was going to treat myself with-buy two books, maybe something from Oxfam...and I lost it-I'm so stupid-it was my fault. I didn't put in my purse and it was just loose money, in my big pocket when I could have helped myself...
Will add later
Fri 25 Jun:
I'm a bit calmer today. I didn't cut myself last night and that was all down to Nik. I sent him and Ashley (my mystery 'soulmate' in a nutshell) a text asking if they were awake. Nik replied at last night-he left his phone downstairs, but he was awake...so I told him how distant I feel from happiness-because I know I have a lot to be thankful for, and I know people like me, and i know that I can do almost anything at these moments, and all I was doing was crying, off-balance because I wouldn't let cutting balance me anymore-it was getting too dangerous...
So I cried to him in text messages (we never call each other-its like we're scared, or shy, or something) and he told me to Focus. On all the little good things. One little good thing, like the cool side of the pillow or the stars escaping us at night. Then I replied that he was one of the good things in my life, and that I was so lost. He hasn't replied. I don't blame him. I can't lose him. I have to get back on my feet, and get busy. My exams are over and I was never bothered about them to really try...I guess it'll all come undone August 26th, and I'll see what damage I have done. Nik, if you're reading this, I'm sorry if i scared/worried/annoyed you. Just email me, or text me, or something. You have no idea how much you helped me last night. Thank you.
Don't worry-you'll love it-just read it slowly. I didn't, and I ended up reading all 17 chapters only to find that Maya, the author hasn't written a damn thing since March, and now I have to forget the masterpiece and avoid hyperventilating. Or losing control. Which is getting so impossible these days.
I'm losing it. Because I'm not hurting myself, or hitting/cutting/whatever the fuck else I do to myself just isn't happening anymore, all the blackness in me is overcome in my eyes. I almost burst into tears three times today. Two times yesterday. I want to cry now... I'm so angry-this is exactly how I usually feel just before I cut myself, as if I'm psyching myself up..I'm a sick bitch. A sick, fat, stupid, hated bitch. Except I've been predicted eight A/A*s, I'm 'portly', I'm perfectly healthy and apparently 'everybody loves me'. I just want to let it out, and scream, and scream, and cut. I haven't gone this long without hurting myself in some way since I was 13 and I had these brilliant few weeks when I was so normal I just let it be-I realised I was bisexual(at the time). And because of my life, it didn't seem so big.
After all, I'm not exaggerating-it has been a shit day (Portugal scored!!!!!!!!!!!!I'm such a cow-I'm British for God's sakes! Go on, Porto!)...
I digress...what was I saying? Oh yes, today, it was my last exam, great because it was the last, that was it, no more uniforms or crap like that. However, I have now have no excuses for not making a mess of my life. And I'm so fed up, and I'm so tired, and so insomniac-inclined I know I'll be like this forever. And I lost £15 today-my birthday money-the money I was going to treat myself with-buy two books, maybe something from Oxfam...and I lost it-I'm so stupid-it was my fault. I didn't put in my purse and it was just loose money, in my big pocket when I could have helped myself...
Will add later
Fri 25 Jun:
I'm a bit calmer today. I didn't cut myself last night and that was all down to Nik. I sent him and Ashley (my mystery 'soulmate' in a nutshell) a text asking if they were awake. Nik replied at last night-he left his phone downstairs, but he was awake...so I told him how distant I feel from happiness-because I know I have a lot to be thankful for, and I know people like me, and i know that I can do almost anything at these moments, and all I was doing was crying, off-balance because I wouldn't let cutting balance me anymore-it was getting too dangerous...
So I cried to him in text messages (we never call each other-its like we're scared, or shy, or something) and he told me to Focus. On all the little good things. One little good thing, like the cool side of the pillow or the stars escaping us at night. Then I replied that he was one of the good things in my life, and that I was so lost. He hasn't replied. I don't blame him. I can't lose him. I have to get back on my feet, and get busy. My exams are over and I was never bothered about them to really try...I guess it'll all come undone August 26th, and I'll see what damage I have done. Nik, if you're reading this, I'm sorry if i scared/worried/annoyed you. Just email me, or text me, or something. You have no idea how much you helped me last night. Thank you.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Physics
Two exams left!!! You can only be happy about that...(song:Jeff Buckley 'Sweet Thing') it went OK, I think I got a B, so that would mean I would get an overall A/A in science! In answer to CarpeDM's question, in Britain, because I'm in year 11, these exams are the end of my compulsory education. This means I don't have to go to college, I can finish off the rest of these exams and just start working for the rest of my life. But I ain't-I'm starting college in September, so that will be a big thing, because its a big change and from I've heard, it changes you. So, it'll be interesting to see how I turn out... I remember in the beginning of year 10 I was hoping to turn back to straight by year 11 bur I ended up going to the other extreme, lol. I never thought I'd turn out gay, but I guess no one really thinks like that, do they?
I realised I was gay on the 29th September 2003-its in my diary. Texting Nik and we were talking about celebrities and they all turned out to be female. I knew it wasn't just 'peculiar' anymore. I just wasn't finding men attractive, and I was realising that because I saw that men were fit it didn't mean I fancied them...so it sank in. And I realised, and I didn't have a fit. I was just perfectly calm, as I'm normally am. Thats all for now...
I realised I was gay on the 29th September 2003-its in my diary. Texting Nik and we were talking about celebrities and they all turned out to be female. I knew it wasn't just 'peculiar' anymore. I just wasn't finding men attractive, and I was realising that because I saw that men were fit it didn't mean I fancied them...so it sank in. And I realised, and I didn't have a fit. I was just perfectly calm, as I'm normally am. Thats all for now...
Monday, June 21, 2004
Pinpoint Ache
Okay, yesterday=hectic. My Dad nearly ruined the whole thing. He insisted that he needed to drive me down, or I'd definitely get lost, 'because I'm so crap with maps'. Which is true, lol but I can handle myself. Thanks to him, a typo on the map and too many one way streets, I was over a hour late-past schedule. Poor Alice had to stand on Waterloo bridge with her green frog umbrella till I found her and I could escape my idiot Dad.(I understand his cares, but I could've handled myself).
The walk was great-we crossed a bridge-don't ask me which one and went past the Tower of London, then James' Park and it started to piss down. All we had was Alice's tiny green umbrella, so I ended up clinging to her for most of the walk. I hadn't been in this part of London for an age, so it was nice to look at all these places I hadn't been to for years-Buckingham Palace, London Dungeon, London Eye, Art galleries, St Paul's, a good Starbucks (Caramel Frappucino with everything on it) and the Millennium bridge, back of the London Tower(I couldn't recognise it and I was wondering what the hell a castle was doing in Central London). Me and Alice chatted and sang (Agadoo, Kumbaya, Laura-Scissor Sisters) and met some cool people: some fit girls who were fussing over their wet jeans, some guys in pink wigs we were racing against-and won!, a man who sang 'Love Boat' and talked a hell of a lot about it, and just lots of random ppl. It was a lot of fun, but my legs are still killing me-sign that I really should lose weight..? It was worth it. Althogether between me Alice and her friend Ann-marie we raised £130 for people with HIV-made me feel proud. I had finally done something that had made my life matter.
At Potters' fields, we rested on our knees in soggy grass and got our faces painted as butterflies. In a haze of pink and green, we made our way home separately. Dad was supposed to pick me up, but got stuck in traffic and I ended up going home by train, as I had originally planned anyway! Oh, the irony...
Now I'm just tired, and devouring books, and listening to Jeff Buckley...yesterday, after the whole thing I got bored and came up with the 'brilliant' idea to read my 12-year old diary. I wanted to see if my feelings when I was 12-feelings that have haunted me since-were better, worse or the same to whatever they are now. It was horrible-I wanted to cut myself, I went on and on about suicide like a broken record, scared Maria to death-she needed me as well because she was actually cutting. She didn't tell me at the time, but two years later and I've beaten myself up about ever since, because she's one of my great loves. It wasn't a good year-panic attacks, solvent abuse etc and I didn't get any of it-how could I? That was when all the barriers set up when I was younger were reinforced with titanium.
I think I got the same sort of feelings, but less confusion because I know I'm not actually crazy and apparentely lots of people feel the same way and its a clinical depression. I can be saved(if I want to). Hmm, what I'm annoyed about in this blog, is that I'm so depressed. Its all about depression. I do smile, I have a great sense of humour, when I'm not alone and as long as there is something to distract me, there's a lot of laughter in my life. So the answer's simple-gotta start getting busy again. I have to go now-I'm setting up a bath to try and unstiffen my leg muscles, then I'm revising-I'll put more meat on this later...
(9:12pm). The bath was lovely-it was so hot it was steaming-just what I needed to take to out all the aches-I'm not so stiff now. In my diary, there was this one entry when I said I nearly cut myself :"I took the knife and walked into the middle of the room. I gently stroked it across the palm of my left hand. It felt sharp and jaggedy. Then I realised what I was doing and dropped the knife I had even made a mark. Night diary." Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I really should burn it. All my ideas came from there-to just experience pain and revel in it. Don't scream-increase the pain as much as you can and it will neutralise everything. Somehow it made sense at the time-because I was going crazy-I was having panic attacks over the phone and I was looking into prophecies to see if anything had anything to do with me. I wanted to be special so badly, I didn't help my friend when she was in need, and I almost lost her.
There's a double rainbow! Just thought I should say. I can't revise physics. Everytime I as much as look at a book I get a headache, and so I give up. Here's to a B grade...
The walk was great-we crossed a bridge-don't ask me which one and went past the Tower of London, then James' Park and it started to piss down. All we had was Alice's tiny green umbrella, so I ended up clinging to her for most of the walk. I hadn't been in this part of London for an age, so it was nice to look at all these places I hadn't been to for years-Buckingham Palace, London Dungeon, London Eye, Art galleries, St Paul's, a good Starbucks (Caramel Frappucino with everything on it) and the Millennium bridge, back of the London Tower(I couldn't recognise it and I was wondering what the hell a castle was doing in Central London). Me and Alice chatted and sang (Agadoo, Kumbaya, Laura-Scissor Sisters) and met some cool people: some fit girls who were fussing over their wet jeans, some guys in pink wigs we were racing against-and won!, a man who sang 'Love Boat' and talked a hell of a lot about it, and just lots of random ppl. It was a lot of fun, but my legs are still killing me-sign that I really should lose weight..? It was worth it. Althogether between me Alice and her friend Ann-marie we raised £130 for people with HIV-made me feel proud. I had finally done something that had made my life matter.
At Potters' fields, we rested on our knees in soggy grass and got our faces painted as butterflies. In a haze of pink and green, we made our way home separately. Dad was supposed to pick me up, but got stuck in traffic and I ended up going home by train, as I had originally planned anyway! Oh, the irony...
Now I'm just tired, and devouring books, and listening to Jeff Buckley...yesterday, after the whole thing I got bored and came up with the 'brilliant' idea to read my 12-year old diary. I wanted to see if my feelings when I was 12-feelings that have haunted me since-were better, worse or the same to whatever they are now. It was horrible-I wanted to cut myself, I went on and on about suicide like a broken record, scared Maria to death-she needed me as well because she was actually cutting. She didn't tell me at the time, but two years later and I've beaten myself up about ever since, because she's one of my great loves. It wasn't a good year-panic attacks, solvent abuse etc and I didn't get any of it-how could I? That was when all the barriers set up when I was younger were reinforced with titanium.
I think I got the same sort of feelings, but less confusion because I know I'm not actually crazy and apparentely lots of people feel the same way and its a clinical depression. I can be saved(if I want to). Hmm, what I'm annoyed about in this blog, is that I'm so depressed. Its all about depression. I do smile, I have a great sense of humour, when I'm not alone and as long as there is something to distract me, there's a lot of laughter in my life. So the answer's simple-gotta start getting busy again. I have to go now-I'm setting up a bath to try and unstiffen my leg muscles, then I'm revising-I'll put more meat on this later...
(9:12pm). The bath was lovely-it was so hot it was steaming-just what I needed to take to out all the aches-I'm not so stiff now. In my diary, there was this one entry when I said I nearly cut myself :"I took the knife and walked into the middle of the room. I gently stroked it across the palm of my left hand. It felt sharp and jaggedy. Then I realised what I was doing and dropped the knife I had even made a mark. Night diary." Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I really should burn it. All my ideas came from there-to just experience pain and revel in it. Don't scream-increase the pain as much as you can and it will neutralise everything. Somehow it made sense at the time-because I was going crazy-I was having panic attacks over the phone and I was looking into prophecies to see if anything had anything to do with me. I wanted to be special so badly, I didn't help my friend when she was in need, and I almost lost her.
There's a double rainbow! Just thought I should say. I can't revise physics. Everytime I as much as look at a book I get a headache, and so I give up. Here's to a B grade...
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Quickie
This is quick as I'm supposed to go to bed very soon. The walks tomorrow and I'm...excited and nervous. People are telling me I should prepare but I can walk for two hours...my Dad didn't know anything apart from that it was a walk and it was for charity. Now he's driving me down-to meet my internet friend, Alice. She's genuine, we got out loads but its really weird cos we met on GYUK...but no, everything should be OK. I am 16, he can't truly tell me what to do, but I should trust him more...
Today was hard. I was really happy in the morning despite my brother waking me at 5am because he was drunk and he had lost his keys. I slept till 10am and listened to Portishead-they're fantastic-I find they are all these songs I've heard snippets of in programmes but you never know who they actually are...
The day went down afterwards. I was trying to revise why all the Germans fell for Hitler in the 1930s (= extreme solutions for extreme situations...the way things are going, this sort of thing could happen in Britain in a few years...) and I felt so, deflated. Depressed. I was listening to Evanescence (mistake) and I just wanted to cry and cut, but today it was a 'no more tears' day because I can't just cry all the freaking time, I gotta be strong sometimes. So I ached to reach for my scissor god instead. I solved that easily, and just forced myself to work and keep still. Eventually Dad saved me and we did DIY for my Aunty Bev...
I was worried because my Mum came over yesterday. I do love her, but its not the same way of a mother-daughter relationship: we never fight, but we never have any really really special moments either. I can't see myself knowing her after I leave home. I don't know what to do with a stale relationship. I barely know her and her me. I should be sad, but she's not really a mum-never was. She's mother, but I don't call her that.
Unfortunately, that doesn't stop her having mother's intuition. She looked into my eyes and she could tell I was struggling, because I felt so cold inside (still do-kinda stale). She asked if I was Ok, and of course I lied with a medium-sized smile on my ugly face. Just because I'm on the verge of collapse, madness, fucked-up-ness or whatever it is, doesn't mean I've lost the ability to act. I do what I have to and cry when no one is looking.
I haven't lost this battle yet. Not by a long shot. I still haven't cut and I don't plan to. I have a charity walk. I have exams. I have to come out to my family. I have to live my life and become everything I've dreamed of. Cutting, is not a part of it. Just gotta stay positive...somehow.
Later! Any Walk Of Life ppl-I'll see you inthe National Theatre!
Today was hard. I was really happy in the morning despite my brother waking me at 5am because he was drunk and he had lost his keys. I slept till 10am and listened to Portishead-they're fantastic-I find they are all these songs I've heard snippets of in programmes but you never know who they actually are...
The day went down afterwards. I was trying to revise why all the Germans fell for Hitler in the 1930s (= extreme solutions for extreme situations...the way things are going, this sort of thing could happen in Britain in a few years...) and I felt so, deflated. Depressed. I was listening to Evanescence (mistake) and I just wanted to cry and cut, but today it was a 'no more tears' day because I can't just cry all the freaking time, I gotta be strong sometimes. So I ached to reach for my scissor god instead. I solved that easily, and just forced myself to work and keep still. Eventually Dad saved me and we did DIY for my Aunty Bev...
I was worried because my Mum came over yesterday. I do love her, but its not the same way of a mother-daughter relationship: we never fight, but we never have any really really special moments either. I can't see myself knowing her after I leave home. I don't know what to do with a stale relationship. I barely know her and her me. I should be sad, but she's not really a mum-never was. She's mother, but I don't call her that.
Unfortunately, that doesn't stop her having mother's intuition. She looked into my eyes and she could tell I was struggling, because I felt so cold inside (still do-kinda stale). She asked if I was Ok, and of course I lied with a medium-sized smile on my ugly face. Just because I'm on the verge of collapse, madness, fucked-up-ness or whatever it is, doesn't mean I've lost the ability to act. I do what I have to and cry when no one is looking.
I haven't lost this battle yet. Not by a long shot. I still haven't cut and I don't plan to. I have a charity walk. I have exams. I have to come out to my family. I have to live my life and become everything I've dreamed of. Cutting, is not a part of it. Just gotta stay positive...somehow.
Later! Any Walk Of Life ppl-I'll see you inthe National Theatre!
Friday, June 18, 2004
Hey Folks
I haven't posted for a few days, but I've had six exams this week and I'm exhausted. Plus, I've got to rest and limber up for Sunday. I'm taking part in the Walk For Life charity stroll. I've raised £51 so far, which is pretty good, considering this is my first ever charity thing. Yesterday, after the last exam of the week (pretty uneventful, but I think I'm going to get an A* for Business Studies). Afterwards I kicked myself into action, refusing to go home and sleep and pestering all the teachers. The most I got was £6.40(£5 add giftaid) but I just annoyed them. Unfortunately, I don't remember all of their faces, but I will...Dad's happy with it and he's pledging £15, gonna get m brother, my two neighbours...then I'll be meeting up Alice and her friends and we'll be on our way...is anyone else doing it? If so, good luck on the day and congratulations! I heard Liberty X is performing, I wonder if thats true...
Right now my Dad is on the phone to Aunty Babs-her daughter died on the 16th-she was only 25 and Denise died of terminal breast cancer. It's so sad, but I'm scared I'll have to face her. I have no idea how to act...its scary how things just go out of control(not because I knew her-is that selfish?).
A few days before I sent one my two best guy mates, Ashley a long letter telling him about my breakdown and that I needed him. He's a slow reader, but he started reading a bit of it last night, and hes being really great. Better than I thought, because he doesn't really speak to me lately, and we've been too quiet together (we're both Geminis). I've been talking to other best guy mate, Nik. He's fantastic. He really is. He's genuine and funny and caring and sincere and interesting, and a normal guy which doesn't make the whole internet situation something to just shout about. You see, I've never seen him: we met on stories.com (now www.writing.com) and everything progressed from there. We had a nightmarish, brief attempt at being boyfriend and girlfriend. We're almost made for each other, but definitely not like that! I used to call him, but hes not the best speaker so we use msn, but mines not working so we have to rely on email. He's still convinced that Enlgand have a chance at winning the Euro Cup(?) and predictably treats Rooney in high esteem cos of his two goals.... he's cool.
I feel nervous. Why? Because Ihaven't told Dad that the charity treats people with HIV/AIDS and that the walk is in Central London. He used to think AIDs was a gay disease and I don't know if hes changed his mind. Aussi, he doesn't like me going into Central London-he has a sexist view of women with maps...I'm going whether he likes he or not. This is something I have to do-its probably one of the most selfless things I've ever done-after all, there's no such as a completely selfless deed.
Finally, I might be on the 'bill' for the Pink Parade. There's an event in Cambridge on the 28th August where young gay people will be performing poetry, songs, scripts etc, to prove how fabulous we are! It'll be the first time - ever! - that I will be performing any works of mine in public. So I'll definitely keep you posted with that...I found a site for it: So thats a date.
Write up, later. And please, please, please times a million, if you are reading this, comment! I feel like I'm on a virtual reality island...
www.walkforlife.com -that is the Walk For Life site-I can't get my hyperlink to behave.
www.pinkpicnic.co.uk
That is the link for the pink picnic, but I can't get that to behave either...I like to work though...sometimes.
Right now my Dad is on the phone to Aunty Babs-her daughter died on the 16th-she was only 25 and Denise died of terminal breast cancer. It's so sad, but I'm scared I'll have to face her. I have no idea how to act...its scary how things just go out of control(not because I knew her-is that selfish?).
A few days before I sent one my two best guy mates, Ashley a long letter telling him about my breakdown and that I needed him. He's a slow reader, but he started reading a bit of it last night, and hes being really great. Better than I thought, because he doesn't really speak to me lately, and we've been too quiet together (we're both Geminis). I've been talking to other best guy mate, Nik. He's fantastic. He really is. He's genuine and funny and caring and sincere and interesting, and a normal guy which doesn't make the whole internet situation something to just shout about. You see, I've never seen him: we met on stories.com (now www.writing.com) and everything progressed from there. We had a nightmarish, brief attempt at being boyfriend and girlfriend. We're almost made for each other, but definitely not like that! I used to call him, but hes not the best speaker so we use msn, but mines not working so we have to rely on email. He's still convinced that Enlgand have a chance at winning the Euro Cup(?) and predictably treats Rooney in high esteem cos of his two goals.... he's cool.
I feel nervous. Why? Because Ihaven't told Dad that the charity treats people with HIV/AIDS and that the walk is in Central London. He used to think AIDs was a gay disease and I don't know if hes changed his mind. Aussi, he doesn't like me going into Central London-he has a sexist view of women with maps...I'm going whether he likes he or not. This is something I have to do-its probably one of the most selfless things I've ever done-after all, there's no such as a completely selfless deed.
Finally, I might be on the 'bill' for the Pink Parade. There's an event in Cambridge on the 28th August where young gay people will be performing poetry, songs, scripts etc, to prove how fabulous we are! It'll be the first time - ever! - that I will be performing any works of mine in public. So I'll definitely keep you posted with that...I found a site for it: So thats a date.
Write up, later. And please, please, please times a million, if you are reading this, comment! I feel like I'm on a virtual reality island...
www.walkforlife.com -that is the Walk For Life site-I can't get my hyperlink to behave.
www.pinkpicnic.co.uk
That is the link for the pink picnic, but I can't get that to behave either...I like to work though...sometimes.
Saturday, June 12, 2004
The Sky is Full of Dust
The day is colder than usual, but the sky is glittering. If you find a patch of blue sky with bits of cloud, revel in it and stare so hard your eyeballs start to ache. Lose yourself in the true blueness of the sky and don't blink. Soon enough, you should see a glittering sky. Lots of little dots of translucent light speeding round like angel children and miny fairy eggspawn. Hmm, I like that description. Its a load of mini ghosts moving around. They are the ones that give you the shivers...
Me-happy? Yeah, I was disbelieving too till thursday night. I had lost total beliefs in happy endings at the age of 16. I couldn't hold a true smile anymore, so I texted Nik. I've known him since I was 12, on the internet-one time I trusted him with my life, but we lost touch. We're talking again now, and I hope to get back to what we once had. What he said wasn't so remarkable(don't take things seriously, and know that life is good) its just that someone was listening to me for once and I appreciated so much I couldn't help but smile. People tend to compliment me for my smile. They say its brightens people's days, and I blanch with such a sought-after compliment.
I had a horoscope of my year, saying that I will find a guy who will over broken glass to make me happy. Maybe its been him, all this time. To tell you the truth, despite all the arguments we have, he's never wanted anything more than to make me happy, and I should know it better.
Hold on, I'm trying to find my dust...if you stare at darkness long enough, you could forget that there's little squares of light rushing around you trying to make you happy...
Me-happy? Yeah, I was disbelieving too till thursday night. I had lost total beliefs in happy endings at the age of 16. I couldn't hold a true smile anymore, so I texted Nik. I've known him since I was 12, on the internet-one time I trusted him with my life, but we lost touch. We're talking again now, and I hope to get back to what we once had. What he said wasn't so remarkable(don't take things seriously, and know that life is good) its just that someone was listening to me for once and I appreciated so much I couldn't help but smile. People tend to compliment me for my smile. They say its brightens people's days, and I blanch with such a sought-after compliment.
I had a horoscope of my year, saying that I will find a guy who will over broken glass to make me happy. Maybe its been him, all this time. To tell you the truth, despite all the arguments we have, he's never wanted anything more than to make me happy, and I should know it better.
Hold on, I'm trying to find my dust...if you stare at darkness long enough, you could forget that there's little squares of light rushing around you trying to make you happy...
Monday, June 07, 2004
New Heatwave, old annoyances
Try doing a biology exam in a room where its 28 degrees celsius. Then find that next door, although its as if its inside your own brain, theres a building site indulging in some drillin'. Then, you find you might need a claculator (you find it later you don't) and all you can think about is a whole big load of nothing...just trying, so hard to keep your blank, to concentrate. i feel like going asleep right now, if I didn't have anything to say.
If y'all didn't know, I'm 16 at last...I am an adult(sort of), i have liberty(mostly) and at least legally I can say no, and legally I can go 'Yes, yes, oh, god YEEES!!'-you get my drift.
I've discovered a new love, one of those geeky things. Its not a bad thing, its just that I'm so passionate about it when as a british teen I shouldn't be. I love gardening! Not just the easy bit-barbecueing, mowing lawns choosing plants. No! I love the hard, tough dirty bits-digging up weeds, breaking up firewood to burn the weeds, dashing to get a hose when the fire keeps catching onto the grass. That sort of fun-I love it. Its probably one of the last bonding things me and Dad are going to do together. Elliott's not a gardening guy-last time he did gardening he managed to drop a sledgehammer on his foot...
Birthday presents: £100, £20, Scissor Sisters album :) and...shorts. i should be grateful-nuff said. I'm off to read some Harry Potter slash, I can't get enough of it, lol...
If y'all didn't know, I'm 16 at last...I am an adult(sort of), i have liberty(mostly) and at least legally I can say no, and legally I can go 'Yes, yes, oh, god YEEES!!'-you get my drift.
I've discovered a new love, one of those geeky things. Its not a bad thing, its just that I'm so passionate about it when as a british teen I shouldn't be. I love gardening! Not just the easy bit-barbecueing, mowing lawns choosing plants. No! I love the hard, tough dirty bits-digging up weeds, breaking up firewood to burn the weeds, dashing to get a hose when the fire keeps catching onto the grass. That sort of fun-I love it. Its probably one of the last bonding things me and Dad are going to do together. Elliott's not a gardening guy-last time he did gardening he managed to drop a sledgehammer on his foot...
Birthday presents: £100, £20, Scissor Sisters album :) and...shorts. i should be grateful-nuff said. I'm off to read some Harry Potter slash, I can't get enough of it, lol...
Thursday, June 03, 2004
I won't say much
Last night, I fell apart. Completely and utterly. I broke and everything became twisted. For some reason if I didn't talk to someone I trusted I would fly out of the door and never come back. I'd die, without some flashback and remember how stupid I'm being.
I called my two best friends, but of course they weren't there-sounding horribly calm(despite the fact I was curled up on my bed, crying my eyes out), I called a half-friend-an acquaintance. Charlotte.
The phone rang, and I was at the point of hysteria-I could barely see, I just felt as if everything was coming to crush at last and maybe I'd die this time. When charlotte came onto the phone, her usual chipper self, I thought for a nanosecond I was going to let everything fly and chat and laugh like I usually do. But I just couldn't. I told her I was falling apart and I just sobbed like lost, suicidal helpless little girl, ignoring her, as the pain and the sorrow and the worthlessness just ripped through me. I couldn't scream-I'm in a house, I'm in a city, I'm alive-so I just sobbed instead of breathed, and I let her listen. Even though it was only for a few seconds, I had never let myself lose control like that before in my entire life. It was breathtaking-literally.
I let her soothe me slightly, and I ended up telling her everything, no remorse no afterthought-I mighyt have even told my Dad-if he was listening on the other side. I don't trust him either-its so much easier to act near him, cos he makes me happy-even when I'm at the brink of tears.
I told her about the cutting and the suicidal feelings and the dark empty hopeless place I had checked into without meaning to. I just spilt my tears, my anger my fears and my hysterics down the phone, and she listened faithfull just as any person would. -any decent person I could grow to trust, I hope. I've just given her my soul for a couple of minutes.
I let her talk, because I just couldn't think of anything else to say. She said how everyone in school liked me and no one hated me(?!?!?!???!???!???!?!?!??!???!????) and that she had no idea (of ocurse, I know how to lie, I'm one of the best fucking actresses you never knew). She said people would be devasted if i left(this world) and that they would not simply get over me in a few months as I had so accurately suggested. They said they would blame themselves. I almost started sobbing again from the pain and the humuliation and the self hate of it.
And then, I felt OK again. Not so broken, but shattered. It was as if I was starting over.
I hung up with Charlotte and my first instinct was to snog the walls, which i did. My room is tiny and prone to fits of claustrophobia, so it felt nice to like my room again. I felt real. And now the fallout begins, and everything will fuck up again. And i can't handle it as I did before. For that I'm glad it means I'm never cutting again. I'm serious, I won't keep up these balancing scales of self-harm: making myself throw up and then cutting to balance it out...cutting myself then overeating to dull the pain, then cutting to cut out the shame and making myself throw up and I can't keep doing this to myself...how would I ever find love. Please comment.
Edit 18/06/04: (apart from the above) here is the story I read before I broke down: Afer you've finished crying, review her work and read the rest of her stuff. She rocks.
I called my two best friends, but of course they weren't there-sounding horribly calm(despite the fact I was curled up on my bed, crying my eyes out), I called a half-friend-an acquaintance. Charlotte.
The phone rang, and I was at the point of hysteria-I could barely see, I just felt as if everything was coming to crush at last and maybe I'd die this time. When charlotte came onto the phone, her usual chipper self, I thought for a nanosecond I was going to let everything fly and chat and laugh like I usually do. But I just couldn't. I told her I was falling apart and I just sobbed like lost, suicidal helpless little girl, ignoring her, as the pain and the sorrow and the worthlessness just ripped through me. I couldn't scream-I'm in a house, I'm in a city, I'm alive-so I just sobbed instead of breathed, and I let her listen. Even though it was only for a few seconds, I had never let myself lose control like that before in my entire life. It was breathtaking-literally.
I let her soothe me slightly, and I ended up telling her everything, no remorse no afterthought-I mighyt have even told my Dad-if he was listening on the other side. I don't trust him either-its so much easier to act near him, cos he makes me happy-even when I'm at the brink of tears.
I told her about the cutting and the suicidal feelings and the dark empty hopeless place I had checked into without meaning to. I just spilt my tears, my anger my fears and my hysterics down the phone, and she listened faithfull just as any person would. -any decent person I could grow to trust, I hope. I've just given her my soul for a couple of minutes.
I let her talk, because I just couldn't think of anything else to say. She said how everyone in school liked me and no one hated me(?!?!?!???!???!???!?!?!??!???!????) and that she had no idea (of ocurse, I know how to lie, I'm one of the best fucking actresses you never knew). She said people would be devasted if i left(this world) and that they would not simply get over me in a few months as I had so accurately suggested. They said they would blame themselves. I almost started sobbing again from the pain and the humuliation and the self hate of it.
And then, I felt OK again. Not so broken, but shattered. It was as if I was starting over.
I hung up with Charlotte and my first instinct was to snog the walls, which i did. My room is tiny and prone to fits of claustrophobia, so it felt nice to like my room again. I felt real. And now the fallout begins, and everything will fuck up again. And i can't handle it as I did before. For that I'm glad it means I'm never cutting again. I'm serious, I won't keep up these balancing scales of self-harm: making myself throw up and then cutting to balance it out...cutting myself then overeating to dull the pain, then cutting to cut out the shame and making myself throw up and I can't keep doing this to myself...how would I ever find love. Please comment.
Edit 18/06/04: (apart from the above) here is the story I read before I broke down: Afer you've finished crying, review her work and read the rest of her stuff. She rocks.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Opinion
I was GYUK, as I was beginning in Little Liar Lost...there was a discussion about why lesbians have such bad self-image issues...so I chipped in. And I was stereotypically (liar) openly miserable. But Betty doesn't get miserable in public. Was that conventional or not?
Anyhoo, this was my answer:
Well, I'm miserable right now, so you can either ignore, or not.
It's a big, massive, thing-for want of a better word. So, lesbians and gay men and transgendered people are all a little fucked, usually more than more most people, because this all adds to the 'who are we?' debate. The most ignorant people are the happiest, but lesbians look into ourselves more, as the idea that romantic love, or lust might not be found in whoever we expect to be, will shake the foundations of our beings. So we have to figure ourselves out, and fast before we totally disappear.
So of course, its never finished. And you tend to find that when you figure out who you really are, its not something you want to see. Its not what you expect, in the least.
So what do we do? I dunno. I guess we're gonna have to bond together and be our own idols. The lesbian culture is only just starting to figure out itself, and we're softer than clay, meaning the media have a hoot moulding and destroying us. Instead of just looking up to lesbians, for now, why don't we look up to people who have faced adversity? We may have few and far between lesbian role models, but we have role models. And in-between that time, we can become our own role models for the next batch of confused, self-hating lesbians.
What do you think? Not that I care (such a conventional answer)...
Anyhoo, this was my answer:
Well, I'm miserable right now, so you can either ignore, or not.
It's a big, massive, thing-for want of a better word. So, lesbians and gay men and transgendered people are all a little fucked, usually more than more most people, because this all adds to the 'who are we?' debate. The most ignorant people are the happiest, but lesbians look into ourselves more, as the idea that romantic love, or lust might not be found in whoever we expect to be, will shake the foundations of our beings. So we have to figure ourselves out, and fast before we totally disappear.
So of course, its never finished. And you tend to find that when you figure out who you really are, its not something you want to see. Its not what you expect, in the least.
So what do we do? I dunno. I guess we're gonna have to bond together and be our own idols. The lesbian culture is only just starting to figure out itself, and we're softer than clay, meaning the media have a hoot moulding and destroying us. Instead of just looking up to lesbians, for now, why don't we look up to people who have faced adversity? We may have few and far between lesbian role models, but we have role models. And in-between that time, we can become our own role models for the next batch of confused, self-hating lesbians.
What do you think? Not that I care (such a conventional answer)...
Little liar lost
I'm so lost I can't stand it. I don't whether its because I'm hungry, or whether that I've just read some of the saddest reading in my life, or just that I can't stop thinking of cutting and nothing can make it go away.
Or is it the fact that I'm so self-absorbed, no one is reading this! So effectively I'm disappearing. Cool. Actually, heres something I posted on GYUK. It was weird-my brother just walked in and every muscle tenses. I've never been so untrusting of a family member, a friend or just anyone in my entire life. But I guess I'm so guarded especialy when I have been crying, in a rage, or just so trapped, anyone who breaks in doesn't deserve to be trusted.
Funny, actually. I learnt yesterday the most cruel paradox. To lied effectively, you have to be trustworthy.
To be trustworthy, you had to be the least bit conventional. And to lie and know you definitely won't be getting caught, you play a character, in convention. Never use an unconventional action to lie with, because you're out of character, and you will be caught. Simple as that. I feel a whole lot better. The urge to type can be almost as strong as the urge to write, and keep writing.
Or is it the fact that I'm so self-absorbed, no one is reading this! So effectively I'm disappearing. Cool. Actually, heres something I posted on GYUK. It was weird-my brother just walked in and every muscle tenses. I've never been so untrusting of a family member, a friend or just anyone in my entire life. But I guess I'm so guarded especialy when I have been crying, in a rage, or just so trapped, anyone who breaks in doesn't deserve to be trusted.
Funny, actually. I learnt yesterday the most cruel paradox. To lied effectively, you have to be trustworthy.
To be trustworthy, you had to be the least bit conventional. And to lie and know you definitely won't be getting caught, you play a character, in convention. Never use an unconventional action to lie with, because you're out of character, and you will be caught. Simple as that. I feel a whole lot better. The urge to type can be almost as strong as the urge to write, and keep writing.
Scared of myself
Not really. But I am worried. I almost had a fantastic day yesterday, hanging out with this girl called Alice around Central London-I have to make up a million lies, but its always worth it.
And then, as I was at one of the acton stops, waiting for a train that would take me to Ealing Broadway instead of Heathrow, the train came. I was mesmerized, fully by the tracks. I imagined myself falling and letting the small train wheels crush me, and I began to lean in. I caught myself just in time, but now I can't stop thinking about it.
I've gone to the dark place, and I don't know how long I might be staying here this time. I just feel completely lost. Totally alone. Like its all my fault.
I'm just the fun, intelligne,t inquisitive fun lesbian at school. I thought I'd miss it but then I looked back and realised i didn't really know anyone. That after all this time, I was still utterly alone. And I didn't mind. But I don'y like dying. I'm just a coward like most people. But now I can't concentrate and I can't stop crying. There's too much at stake for me to fall apart now. I'm in the middle of my GCSEs. The last time I nearly fell apart I almost failed, all on my part.
I'm actually 16 on Saturday...and I want to be happy that day. Almost content with the amount of revision, or least the goings over in my head. I don't want to worry about falling apart and destroying my life in such a cliched way.
To anyone who has never been here before, welcome, people, to the Dark Place. I don't know how long I'm staying.
And then, as I was at one of the acton stops, waiting for a train that would take me to Ealing Broadway instead of Heathrow, the train came. I was mesmerized, fully by the tracks. I imagined myself falling and letting the small train wheels crush me, and I began to lean in. I caught myself just in time, but now I can't stop thinking about it.
I've gone to the dark place, and I don't know how long I might be staying here this time. I just feel completely lost. Totally alone. Like its all my fault.
I'm just the fun, intelligne,t inquisitive fun lesbian at school. I thought I'd miss it but then I looked back and realised i didn't really know anyone. That after all this time, I was still utterly alone. And I didn't mind. But I don'y like dying. I'm just a coward like most people. But now I can't concentrate and I can't stop crying. There's too much at stake for me to fall apart now. I'm in the middle of my GCSEs. The last time I nearly fell apart I almost failed, all on my part.
I'm actually 16 on Saturday...and I want to be happy that day. Almost content with the amount of revision, or least the goings over in my head. I don't want to worry about falling apart and destroying my life in such a cliched way.
To anyone who has never been here before, welcome, people, to the Dark Place. I don't know how long I'm staying.
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