I'm emailing my blogpost this time. Well, I've shook off my hormonal, self-pitying selfish weirdo of me last night and got a grip. I'm really glad for it.
I was listening my cutting CD (yes I have a CD, though not especially made), when Cry by Alex Parks came on, and I was reading my old diary. It had my original 20+ wishes. I had completed a lot of them - going out into Central london, getting lost in a place I can get unlost in, coming out to dad, getting a job, changing the world just a little and one of my favourite: "to write loads, reams and masses." Done that too. I also realised I had a beautiful girlfriend who I had blew off yesterday cos my mind was that fucked up; that I had been making myself throw up while my Dad was relaxing to jazz downstairs. I realised how bratty I had been. Yeah, I had hit a rock bottom of sorts, and I needed breathing space but it didn't mean I had to push everyone away. I'm better than that. And so, I got a grip on my dissolving grip. I didn't cut last night. And today wasn't too bad. But I have an essay to write and time too is dissolving (until thursday 17th when Xmas hols start)