shebreathes's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- on the edges first things first, wine is disgusting. maybe that makes me uncool or whatever, i hate the nasty foul stuff. but i drink it anyway (and i'm talking about cheap strawberry wine, not even the real stuff) because it gives me a buzz without getting me drunk. not that i don't like getting drunk, becausei do. ok, so, i think i've got a hang of things on the edges where it matters. but it worries me because depression is like sleep and deep water. you need a rope and you need somebody holding on to that rope or you're just gonna sink. and i've been known to sink. i do think i understand though, on the edge of things, about how things are. for example, if i want to cut myself or burn myself or whatever, i don't think it should be looked at as a sickness or a weakness. and i don't want you to feel sorry for me about it or worry about it. you know? like, it's always been this way. i cut myself. i bleed. people see the cuts, they get all worried. i promise you that there are other things you should be worried about, not this. self harm is survival for me. it is proof that i am LIVING as opposed to just giving up and dying. it's proof that i'm trying. it is not a weakness. and i think that my family and exfriends want(ed) me to stop not so much for me, but for themselves. yeah, good intentions all around but the truth is, me stopping self injury beneifited them way more than it did me. like, yeah, they don't worry anymore. they don't plague themselves with anxiety and guilt. but i'm left in over my head in the depression without an important survival tool. and guess what, it's those who preach stopping that end up affecting me negatively, good intentions and all. cuz i end up feeling guilty when i buckle and go back to it. i end up feeling weak and worthless instead of strong and brave. combine this guilt and shame with the depression and a razor in my hand and you get: riskier cuts. so fuck all of that. i'll slice up my body as much as i want. i'll keep it safe. i'll take care of myself. and that's that. also, i'm tired of being used. and i now feel like it is accurate to use that word. and he's not talking to me right now and whatever. it's not like i can get a hold of him. fuck it. i do hopehopehope that he'll come back but hopefully if/when he does, i'll be more anchored in myself. cuz he is so shifty and transparent but i know i know i know the truth. the details are unimportant. i know what i know. and i am tired of being pushed aside. i'm tired of how he says one thing with his words and another with his silence. he says we're friends now but he doesn't treat me like a friend. he treats me like a girl who loves him and will forgive him no matter what. maybe that's what i am. i don't know. i guess we'll just have to see. but he doesn't have to treat me like this. he says i'm special. he doesn't want me to think i'm not special. well, i don't feel very special right now! so fuck it. there is nothing i can do but keep living. and i'll cross that bridge when and if i get to it. i'll throw my arms around his neck and say "i love you. just kiss me right now. just let me have this moment. because you've been keeping me away for too long." and maybe that will mean i have to go but he already leaves anyway and i guess whatever. just whatever. he has it so good with me. and you know, him and i are something special and he knows it. he fucking knows it, right where even the logic doesn't make sense. ANYWAY. this is how it goes: i need some new friends. i need connections and all that. and i will do some drugs and laugh and drink. and i want to hang out with people who won't treat me like a crazy person. who won't look at me like a bomb ready to explode. who won't pity me and talk down to me and think they know what's right for me. i'm also going to be in a band somehow some way. and be a pornstar. and who knows, maybe i'll go crazy and get a high school education! i think i know on the edges about the way things are. i think i understand about the cage i'm in and the bars that surround me. i think i get the ways in which i have recently become free. and also, about everything i have to do now. and so, if i were the grrrl i want to be, what would i do? look, she's a little reckless. maybe this isn't the brightest idea. but you know what, it's about fucking up. so maybe i'll just give it a try. life is about living even if you're wrong all the time. 1:06 am - July 27, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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