Maybe if I stopped eating and got really, really skinny the ones I love would stay and comfort me instead of leaving. It took me so long to find you and trust you, please don't go away.
Or if they did leave, after a while I'd be numb and bony and everything would be fine. Except not really at all.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
FINALLY
You know it's GREAT, not being an angsty, angry, over-emotional teenager anymore. But my writing used to be better. And it was okay to be crazy as a teenager because every teenager is at least a little bit crazy. Now I have jobs and car payments and credit cards and school that isn't just for fun anymore: I can't spare the time or the energy to let the crazy out. And it's EATING ME INSIDE. And I'm so GODDAMN BORED it makes me cry. I'm too tired to lash out though. At least now I'm being taken seriously: and the number of pills I need to take everyday grows and grows and grows and I'm supposed to stop being tired (but that's what adults do) and I'm supposed to take them all like clockwork because that's the rational thing to do and I'm not supposed to rebel against authority anymore. So I keep my teddies and I wear bright colours and I hug my parents because being old is BORING and people call me immature while other kids my age faceplant doing kegstands. RIGHT. That's BORING too. So in my mind (inside, never out) I indulge in the insanity, and even though it's more controlled I can do so much more damage now that I'm am RESPONSIBLE and SELF-SUFFICIENT and whatnot. The world is CRAZY: why can't I be crazy too?
I found out I have another sister. A half-sister. My father's estranged daughter. She's thought about me, the sister she never had, all of her life and I didn't even know she existed. She stalks me on Facebook and she's pretty much my age and she wants to meet me so she can explain why I should hate my father like she does. Thanks but I'm DISENCHANTED enough as it is, really. Obviously my mother stepped in to protect us because all of a sudden, she's the caring, loving mother I never had, the one who bakes and asks about my day, the one I needed when I was five, not eighteen. I guess it's still better than nothing. Back when my parents were together and I didn't know all the DIRT about my family, I used to wish I had normal parents because mine were so unusual. Now my family is so distorted and branched out that I'm still stuck where I was before, I can't break free because there are SO MANY PEOPLE to fear and protect and by whom to be hurt.
Well, that felt nice. Onto duller, greyer things.
I found out I have another sister. A half-sister. My father's estranged daughter. She's thought about me, the sister she never had, all of her life and I didn't even know she existed. She stalks me on Facebook and she's pretty much my age and she wants to meet me so she can explain why I should hate my father like she does. Thanks but I'm DISENCHANTED enough as it is, really. Obviously my mother stepped in to protect us because all of a sudden, she's the caring, loving mother I never had, the one who bakes and asks about my day, the one I needed when I was five, not eighteen. I guess it's still better than nothing. Back when my parents were together and I didn't know all the DIRT about my family, I used to wish I had normal parents because mine were so unusual. Now my family is so distorted and branched out that I'm still stuck where I was before, I can't break free because there are SO MANY PEOPLE to fear and protect and by whom to be hurt.
Well, that felt nice. Onto duller, greyer things.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Monday, July 30, 2012
Fragments. Here shorter is better.
I have been doing so well. Eating proper, healthy food in normal quantities. Socializing. Staying out of bed. I even went to parties. I laughed and yelled and rolled around in the dirt with boys. Very unlike me. But, apparently, closer to normal than I've ever been.
So, obviously, instead of embracing this semblance of conformity, I am panicking.
People. Too many people. Scary. Not me. Not good. Boring. People are a bore. I don't want to be people.
(Persons, on the other hand? They're okay.)
Young adulthood. Typical. Cliché. Not me. Not good. Boring.
Uni next year. Excited but terrified. Too many people. Scary. Best friend is with me in every class: best friend is terrible for me. Tall, thin, beautiful perfectionist. Together we are unstoppable. With her I sabotage my every effort to be well (not normal, but well). I am mean to her and she lets me be mean. I can't stand people who let me step all over them. I wish someone would stand up to me.
Slip back into childhood and simpler things. Use sarcasm (textbook case of an automatic defense mechanism). Stay away from boys because I do not understand them. Colour. Sleep. Read Harry Potter. All will be well. Use brilliant Harry Potter references. Much love.
So, obviously, instead of embracing this semblance of conformity, I am panicking.
People. Too many people. Scary. Not me. Not good. Boring. People are a bore. I don't want to be people.
(Persons, on the other hand? They're okay.)
Young adulthood. Typical. Cliché. Not me. Not good. Boring.
Uni next year. Excited but terrified. Too many people. Scary. Best friend is with me in every class: best friend is terrible for me. Tall, thin, beautiful perfectionist. Together we are unstoppable. With her I sabotage my every effort to be well (not normal, but well). I am mean to her and she lets me be mean. I can't stand people who let me step all over them. I wish someone would stand up to me.
Slip back into childhood and simpler things. Use sarcasm (textbook case of an automatic defense mechanism). Stay away from boys because I do not understand them. Colour. Sleep. Read Harry Potter. All will be well. Use brilliant Harry Potter references. Much love.
Monday, July 9, 2012
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