She's Hearing Voices

Hey Hey Hey!

I'm thinking of studying economics, it'd be fun. If I could understand how money works, then I could take over the world. Aand, I could do some basic algebra - I LOVE algebra, its the only part of algebra I love cos its such a compact philosophy - a perfect balance achieved through the giving and taking away of elements. Maybe thats not algebra at all, but I still love it. And I could do this business plan I've been thinking of, which I can't exactly say cos you know, someone might take it. But it's a good 'un. It would be great, I'd be a multi-billionaire, a youngish black lesbian who has lived through her mid-teen crisis to grow into a new woman. That would be quite fab, actually.

It might stop me eating too. Some people just seem to stop eating and their so...not alone. I stop eating and suddenly its a fucking festival of food indulgence. I don't deserve to be indulgent. I deserve to starve. Thats the only solace I can gain in my hideous ugliness. But enough self-hate, its poisoning this blog. Who wants to comment on a self-hating, quasi-alcoholic, bulumic, self harming black lesbian?

So...as a new woman, I'd buy my dad a house, I'd go to one of those laser clinics and get rid of all of my scars, except for the ones on my wrist, because it'd be wrong to get rid of all the past. It might not define me forever - I hope - but for this while thats getting longer and harder to untangle from. Recovery can be such a drag.

EDIT: 9:52 pm I'm sitting here, wondering if I should OD. Not to kill myself, I don't want to kill myself. I really don't. But, there's this big hulk of depression shaking me to pieces and I want to kill it. If I'm gone for a while, great. I feel as if my heart is being stretch over my shoulder, like someone is trying to take it away from me. This is no salesmen. This is myself, wanting to...destroy everything I've worked so hard for: sanity, good will, non-violence, bland happiness. What is happiness if it isn't bland? I feel so weak, weaker, stupid, stupider. I just seem to enjoy inflicting damage. I know I'm fading away, into nothing, into nothing that people will bother to remember. Why am I letting myself die? Why am I killing myself this way?

I get it, I get it. This is my problem. I have to figure out myself, just like the rest of my thoughtless existence. But I just want to...I don't know. I don't think its death. But its like that. But I think thats where I am right now. Stuck between nothing and absolute nothing. I might as well be dead. Shit.