Drumroll please! Thank you...

Well, today was strange. I felt really disappointed.

Firstly I was so not nervous it was starting unerve me, which in my brain was going completely ridiculous-probably the choice of words. So in my mind I was spinning round in circles. My inner child giggling.

Then, I could barely sleep last night so I decided to do my hair while I watched Flipside TV on channel 4 (its some show when they flick through all those mysterious channels on Digital. I found a new channel called The Horror Channel thanks to them. So watching that tonight-I need a laugh)

ell asleep about 3am, which was the latest I've been up in weeks. I of course then had the nightmare that has made my day.

In my dream, I was at work, but in another building-it was this nice cream coloured building on the ground floor by the 'High Street' (by that I mean where the off-licence is. Its a town of drunks) and I was on my own in the office and I was having a crap time of it, running around in my 3-inch heels and a dodgy half buttoned long sleeved top. Then, about midday in the dream I realised it was my results day, and that everyone else would have pissed off because we were supposed to meet at 9 am and they won't have missed me anyway. So I was running to the bus stop and some guy asked me for directions to Ealing Broadway, and I sent him to the bus going that way, becoming even later. I stared after him, and after a mintue I turned to walk to the other bus stop but I found I was wearing 3/4 sleeves, meaning that I my scars were in full view (I'm sure this is a metaphor of nudity). Then I was walking trying to hide my sleeves and everyone could see me and I was gasped and gaped at. I bumped into my cousin who said 'What on earth...?' and my dream ended.

The alarm rang.

So I rushed out of the door, and saw my good old school, CW, RC for the very last time. It was very pretty.

Just waiting, waiting for the results, in a small cue, waiting for Maria, who's always a little late. Then came Charlotte looking wasted and in good fashion. I vaguely remembered her saying she was going to arrange some big get-together, and that she never called. I forgot it again. It was only a little slip of paper, and it was all there, simply black and white and condesceding:

English lit - A
English lang - A*
Mathematics - B
Double Science - A/A
History - A
Religious Studies - A
Business Studies - A
French - B
Textiles - B

I was so, so disappointed (why, you cry!) I knew why, but no one could really understand it; they're fantastic results, and hey, I don't even know the margin. I should be over the moon, jumping over boulders and skipping like an agile Graham Norton (like so many straight guys all around me), but I felt terrible. It might have been breakfast-I found out way too late it was gone off, but then again gone off food had been following me around like a curse, so it didn't really imprint on my mind. Everyone was so happy with their results, and everyone was congratulating for deserved results. I couldn't help the breakdown and my thoughts which lead to carelessness and unrivalled hatred inside myself, attacking me. There was also Walk For Life, in which I raised £70 for people with HIV, the decent friend I've been, all the good poems I've written, my marvellous coping skills and I felt a tiny bit better.

Then, to better this feeling, Maria and her friends just decided to leave. We walked behind them but they didn't look back on us and no one asked me if they wanted to do something. Just walked off and I was left with Meg, before she left me too. Ash, came and went in a very quiet haze in his mum's car. Avril, his best friend at the end of the year, didn't mention him. Neither did anyone else, for that matter. You tend to forget that Ash is a loner at the best of times.

I think that my day is comfortably punctuated through conversations, with myself and other people.

The one that comes to mind was after everyone had left and I was on the bus to Ealing Broadway because I felt like buying a book and I wanted to disappear for a while. I almost burst into tears because I realised I got 7 A-A*s and not the 8 needed to be a candidate for NAGTY (national association for gifted and talented youth - a gov. scheme). Now I look back on it, its so stupid and I realise that I'm measuring myself up to standards that aren't individual to me at all-like a really badly made glove, its not one size fits all and I forgot it in the stab of depression. They're like little darts, the bastards.

So, I was getting off the bus when Aunty Audrey called me-I told her my results, she was very happy, pleased. Said 'she wasn't worried, I knew you'd do well.' All the while I was convincing myself to not to hit myself for the fifth time. Against a brick wall, next to temporary bus stop we talked:

"Are you happy with your results, then?"
"Yeah." (Blinking away tears)
"Where are you now?"
"I'm in Ealing Broadway"
"With all your friends, I bet!"
"Yeah" (digging nails into palms)
"Are you going to the cinema or are you going to each other's houses?"
"Nah, its just going to be quiet." (blinking, blinking, don't wanna do any thinking...)
"Never mind, it would be funny watching you walk around with a big fat smile on your face!"
"HmHehe" (a quiet sob, beautifully disguised as laughter. I was dying here! Mortifed I had just sobbed, albeit unnoticed and brief, I leaned against the wall)
"Well congratulations!"
"Aww thanks." (my most common phrase today)
(Like the stage directions?)

I hated the fact everyone thought I'd have something planned, like a drink or a fun night out or just having friends round, when I'm on my own, very alone, very frustrated on the internet when everyone else is doing something. They all sound disappointed that I've barely acted like a teenager-or how I feel. It's strange, cos because I've gotten the best I'm officially the cleverest in the family and they don't know I cut and it feels so surreal, because if they knew maybe they'd understand why I believe its not a big deal.

I just talked to my Grandparents, and they're really proud of me. They so believed I was fine, and Grandad was actually a little worried, which made the results so much for him and me more grateful that people like me for some reason. It made like my results and I think when in Richmond I meet people and they ask about my results and they ask if I'm happy (if they don't squeal) then I would say I am and be honest about it. I plan to be very honest this year. As much as possible..I've lied so much to so many people that the Real Me, whoever that was disappeared under a smoke screen. Then I changed and that other person who everyone saw except me changed forever and that hidden Me was my true persona since year 9 and I really wanted to understand myself better. Of course, this changes if people ask about the sleeves, but they wouldn't really until summer, if its hot and I can rely on good old British weather to help me out in that department.

I did buy a book (called Middlesex, and so far I think its brilliant. It won the 2003 Pulitzer prize, soit had credentials as well) and take out the next series of fearless so I'll be reading a lot. I'm leaving my job on Tuesday, so I'll have more time to write and prepare myself for college in two weeks time. I just need a shield to bat away those bastardly depression darts. We'll see.