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Hurt I hurt myself todayto see if I still feel I focus on the pain the only thing that's real The needle tears a hole the old familiar sting Try to kill it all away but I remember everything NIN Sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me. I'm gonna draw a picture |
Saturday, September 7, 2002 I hate people
Matt. Is such. A JERK! When him and I first met, I told him that I wanted to be just friends at the moment, because I wasn't sure what I wanted. Eric had just broke up with me, and I was still hurt over that. I wasn't sure if I wanted him back or not, and I wanted my freedom as well. I wanted to go out to the mall and hit on 21 year old guys. Which yes, I did do, lol. Made one blush and come talk to me, how good am I? Ha. Wow, ego-trip, I'm just so pissed. Anyways, back on subject, when him and I first met, I said I just wanted to be friends, just wanted to "see him", you know, go on dates and all, but not actually be committed. And he accepted that. I let him kiss me every now and then, let him put his arm around me, and I was considering dating him, but I just couldn't. It didn't feel right, and I had found someone that I felt something for that I've never felt before. So I said I just wanted to keep it at friends. We weren't even committed, and I warned him when we first started hanging out, and he said he'd completely understand, and well, he never did. After I said I'd rather just keep it at friends, he accused me of breaking up with him, when we were never together in the first place! And then he wrote me a long email that made me feel like complete and total shit. He made me feel like shit for awhile, and it hurt, hell, it still does. To have someone say that shit to you, make you feel like the smallest thing on earth. Well, now he's deciding that he's too good for me. He said that no matter what, we'd always be friends, that he'd always stay friends with me. He'd be a great friend, he's a fun guy to hang out with, but jeezuz. Fuckin hypocrite. I had so much fun hanging out with him and his friends, as just friends. Why can't that work? He said it would. I called him a couple times over the summer, because he wanted me to, so that he'd know that I "still cared" *rolls eyes* but still, I inflated his ego a bit, and called him. He said that he'd call me so we could hangout somewhere around early august, but did he? No. Never called me. He's too busy to do so. And now, he emails me saying that he was too busy, so he couldn't, and he said that now that college has started back up, that he has no time to really go anywhere or use the phone. Fuckin. Asshole. There was always time before. Now, why am I mad? Is it because I'm upset that he "moved on"? Or because he's not interested in my anymore? No. It's because I thought I had a good friend in him. I believed him when he said we'd always be friends. But no, just because I won't date him, because as a boyfriend, he's an egotistical asshole, then he can't associate with me. He's too good for me now. Big bad college guy. Fuckin asshole, he can kiss my ass from now on. And for his sake, I hope he doesn't call me anytime soon, because if he does, I'm gonna tell him exactly what I think of him. I'm sick of trying to be a good person, and people turning it around to make me look like that bad guy, and stabbing me in the back. I'm sick of it!
I'm so pissed now. Anyways, let's see, why else do I hate people? Well, I went to a dance last night, and it fuckin sucked. So me, Lowell and Kyle left. Kyle went home and me and Lowell went back to his house. I didn't get to dance with him at the dance, so he put our song on and danced with me, it was so incredibly sweet, I swear, I literally melted in his arms. But that's not why I hate people. Afterwards, something happened, he was really pissed, and upset, and down. I couldn't leave him alone, not like that, so I asked mom to give me five minutes, and she bitched at me something horrible. But she gave me the five minutes, and I went in there, and talked to him, and he was alright, and then I grabbed my stuff, and left. Well, when I got in the truck, mom bitched at me. Yelled at me left and right, because I'm not supposed to be there for my friends. They can be there for themselves, because she's tired, and she wants to go home, and I'm lucky she even let me go out, and that if I really wanted to be there for someone, I could be there over the phone, because she wasn't dropping everything for me. So then, I tried to stand up for myself, and what happens? Dad yells at me. I fuckin hate them. I came home last night, turned the light off, curled up in the corner and cried. I talked to Lowell for awhile, then let him go. I had to, I was ridiculously close to passing out. So I let him go. Sometime in the middle of the night, I figured out how to move, got up and took all my jewelry off, and my jeans, and got into bed, and cried myself back to sleep. I woke up this morning and felt horrible, so I spent like, an hour in the shower. After I got out, mom was treating me like nothing happened, and dad just won't talk to me. He doesn't anymore. He hates me. He used to be proud of me. I used to be "Daddy's little girl" and now I'm "Daddy's little deformity" he hates me. He hates who I am. I'm such a disappointment. I can never win.
To make things better, I can't get out of here. Nowhere to go, and I can't go to college next year. I'm not ready to leave my friends, my sweetheart. I can't be alone yet, I won't make it. I know I'm going to be royally screwed up for the first few months or say when I get out, and if I go to college a year early, then I'll have nobody there with me. I'll be alone. I won't make it. God this isn't fair.
It's almost 11:00. I wanna call Lowell, but I don't. I'm so close to crying, and I don't want to break down in front of him. Well..it's not that..it's just that I know he has a million and one things on his mind, and I don't want to add to it more than I already have. I might see him today, he might go to the fashion show with us, but I'm thinking of just telling him my parents said no, because I don't want him to listen to their bitching, because as far as I know..they're fighting right now. Again. Wonderful. Which means not only are they going to be bitching at me, they'll be bitching at each other, and I don't want him to have to deal with that.
I'm trying so hard not to cry. There's so much on my mind. I can't even get into it right now. I've gotta go. I shouldn't, but I'm going to anyways. Maybe if I curl up in the corner long enough, I'll disappear. Lau melted away at 10:59 a.m. Wednesday, September 4, 2002 *sigh*
Why am I awake. I don't wanna be awake. I woke up because of a stupid nightmare. Alright, so it was stupid, but it scared the shit out of me, and was quite gory as well. God...it's been so long since I've had an actual happy dream.
I wanna cry. I don't exactly know why. I feel horrible, because Lowell called me last night, and I only said a couple things, and then told him I'd have to let him go. I know he knew something was wrong. And he's right. Something is wrong. Terribly wrong. I'm going out of my mind! I want to talk to him so bad. I called him like, 4 times last night, and then mom told me that he called and said he was staying at someone else's house tonite. Well, last night. Same difference. I keep forgetting it's 5 in the morning. But I feel horrible. I feel like I was a bitch to him. I didn't mean it, I was just...I don't know. I was really upset. After I got off the phone with him I cried myself to sleep. Atleast I think I slept...I don't know what happened for the next...hour or so. I just remember sitting on my bed, looking for my phone. I don't remember waking up. I didn't then either. I felt like a damn amnesiac. I couldn't remember what had happened in the past hour or so, so I didn't know if Lowell was still on the phone or something. I didn't even know it'd been an hour, and I hadn't remembered hanging up the phone. So yeah, that was a little screwed up. After a few minutes, I remembered that I hung up the phone, remember what I was doing, and such, and I cried again. Cried myself back to sleep for the third time. By then it was only 7 or 8 o'clock. At night that is. I slept half the day because I just wanted to disappear. I was hoping I wouldn't wake up. That, and crying tires you out. I've been so frustrated all day! And nothing went wrong! What the hell is wrong with me?!
*T* Lau melted away at 05:17 a.m. Tuesday, September 3, 2002 Dumbass...dumbass...dumbass...
I'm triggering this whole damn entry. I think. Who knows. Blah.
I'm such a fuckin dumbass! I fuckin S&I'ed again. I've only done it a few times, and when I did, it didn't even leave a mark, because I barely did it. But this time, yeah, it left a mark. A huge fuckin mark on the inside of my upper left arm. And it hurts like a cast iron fuckin bitch. It's all..white and shit, and it's bumped up a little. Fuckin Alright, No more Triggers.
I talked to Lowell. He called not to long ago, and he just got offline. But I think something's wrong. This is how the end of our conversation went..
Him: but anyway im going now, ill talk to ya lata or something hun k?
It's not like him to leave without saying 'I love you', even when he's upset. And he'll usually say bye afterwards or some shit, I mean..he just..left...Maybe he just didn't wanna talk to me. I mean, I wouldn't blame him. Maybe something's wrong...maybe...*stops self* I'm not going any further..
*sigh* I hope he calls soon..I can't call him because our phone is shut off, but he can call me. *sighs again*
I'm such a dumbass... Lau melted away at 05:12 p.m. Tuesday, September 3, 2002 God damned fuckin triggering bullshit..
*Triggering the whole damned entry*
Ahem. I'm slightly frustrated, if you couldn't tell. I'm extremely triggered, and I don't even know why! Jeezuz. I still haven't let that cut on the top of my wrist heal. God. I've gotta drop that bullshit. I've been interfering with the healing of wounds for...jeezuz...6 years now? Somewhere around there. Possibly longer, actually I think it was longer. Fuck, I dunno. But it should be healed by now, but my dumbass won't let it. And then there's the one on my arm, that's pretty much gone, but it would've been gone a couple days ago, if I hadn't interfered. Oh well. I wanna go back to cutting so bad, I'm so frickin frustrated. I've been cutting myself down all morning. Realizing just everything that's wrong with me. Everything past, and everything present. I made a list of all the shit I've been through/put myself through. The x's are the shit I'm still dealing with, mainly because I'm a dumbass.
xCutting -- 2 years
So, I've successfully kicked Burning and overdosing. Burning, it's been about 5 or 6 months. Overdosing, it's only been...month and a half maybe? So I haven't successfully kicked it yet. I still dump burning hot wax in my hand, does that count? Of course not. Why? Because I say so. Cutting, it's been...8 days. Let's see...heh, Interference, it's been...about 10 minutes. Wrist banging/brusing, it's been 8 days as well, I think. Icing, it's been 4 days, I think, and S&I, it's been a couple months, but I know damn well I haven't kicked it yet.
Now let's see...Obsessive Compulsive..jeezuz. I swear nobody would believe me if I told them, because I don't show the normal signs. Not that they see. Over the years, I've learned to hide it abnormally well, making it look normal. Small things bother the hell out of me. I have to check things, normally alteast 3 times. It's O-C mixed with Paranoia. A wonderful combination. Unorganized rooms bother the hell out of me, but nobody knows it, because I've had to have gotten used to it, and I can control everything. And my room is always a mess, because I have no time to clean it, so I'm never happy when I'm up here. I flipped out a lil while ago, throwing shit, because it was all unorganized. When I do things like cooking, I have to check it every 5 minutes. When I shut the faucet off, even if I'm looking at it and I know it's off, I have to check it again, and normally one more time. Same with the gate for the horses. Same with everything, I check things, no less than 3 times, sometimes I can keep it at 2, but it all depends on my mood and amount of self-control at the moment. Nobody knows how many times I get up in the middle of the night for stupid shit. Making sure my door is closed when I know it is, closing my closet doors, when you can't even tell their open, they just have to be latched, but I have to close them anyways. Moving one little paper, because it's out of place. But, nobody knows. Because I appear like an unorganized person. I appear completely fine. Well, when you've dealt with O-C since ever you can remember, you learn to control it. Or I did, anyways. I had no choice, I didn't want my parents finding out, and they still don't know. The most obvious sign, I'd have to say, was when I was really little. I'd have to hug and kiss all my stuffed animals on my bed an equal number of times, and then blow an equal amount of hugs and kisses to all the animals around my room. It usually took me forever to say goodbye, and get out of my room. A few times, I lost count once, and I got frustrated, and just cried. Other times, I'd do it once, and be afraid that it wasn't equal, and do it again, and then maybe even once more just to make sure. It was ridiculous. But I never let anyone find out. I told someone for the first time in my life, yesterday. I told Lowell, it scared me, still does, only because I've never told anyone. I don't know if he believed me, I think he did though. Who knows. I didn't tell him that it was part of the reason for my panic attacks. Because I have to keep it in such control, that sometimes I just can't handle it and it sends me into a panic attack. That's one thing I won't tell anyone. Because if they find out, then they'll try and keep things normal and organized around me, and treat me differently, and I won't have it. So nobody will ever find out. Jeezuz, right now I'm right on the edge. My room's such a mess. Well, it's not actually, but certain parts are unorganized and it's pissing me off. My body keeps randomly shaking. But I won't flip. Not again.
The Ana...I'm working on it. Kinda. Alright, so I'm not working on it at all. Well, I am. Alright, let me start over. The ana is an interesting subject. I only try when someone mentions something. When Lowell asks me to eat, I eat. If he were to tell me to eat, I wouldn't. I don't follow orders like that. It's partly my feminist side, and partly my stubborn side. But that's really the only time I try. I tell everyone I'm trying, but partly I am. I am, but I'm not. Once I start exercising again, then I'll slowly start eating again, but no sooner. And I've started now, so once I get the results I want, I'll go back to eating normally. It's starting to make me weak, and I don't want that. But I eat when I'm hungry, if I'm in a good mood. Like today, I ate normally. I had a bowl of fruit at around 4am, and then at...7 or 8 or so I had Tuna Noodle Casserole. And I had a couple cookies about 20 minutes, to a half hour ago. So I'm fine. Probably won't eat again until dinner. I'm hungry as hell right now, but I refuse to eat. Why? Because I don't fuckin need it. I might have something if I take a trip to eno's, but if I do, then I'll just have to exercise more tonite. No harm in exercising, right? Right. Ha, so no lecturing me. I beat you all. Ha. Wow...that was really cocky and bitchy. What can I say, I'm frustrated. Ana isn't a soft subject with me. So moving on..
Manic Depression. I go up, I go down. When I go up, I go partly up, when I go down, I go dangerously down, it's great. And when I go down, I rarely tell anyone what's wrong, and I don't like to talk. On rare occassions I will. And on very rare occassions, I'll cower to someone. The only someone being Lowell. It's hard though. I don't really know how much people understand that. It's a pride issue. Pride is all I have left. That, and it's all I know, but everyone gets offended when I try to explain. I try to say, it's not them, and they get mad and frustrated, but they just don't understand. It's all I know, it's how I was raised. I never told anyone anything until..hell...2 years ago maybe? No..well, I said occasional things about my mom..kinda. But I never told anyone the "full story" well, close to the full story, until about...mm...10 or 11 months back. So for about 15 years of my life, I've been alone. I can't break that in a night. Can't break it in a week, a month, or even a year. It's going to take alot of damn time. Whether people understand that or not, I don't know, and if they don't, then fuck them. It's who I am, I'm trying my hardest, if they can't accept that, then as I said, fuck them.
The PTSD...hm. Yeah. It's partly an anxiety disorder. Mainly. It's caused from something stressful, painful, difficult that happened in the past that you can't let go of. Something that you have nightmares about. Something that flashes in your mind more than not, that haunts you, and eats you away from the inside. Alot of rape victims, and victims of physical and other sexual abuse suffer from it. Me, I get the nightmares, atleast one a night. I get the flashbacks. I get the panic/anxiety attacks. Constantly. Always of my mom beating the shit out of me. It's usually triggered by something, sometimes just being in a certain room, sometimes seeing a certain object. Many times by hearing yelling. If I hear yelling of any kind, alot of times it sends me into an attack. Which is why I hide in my room. My mom yells at the dog, literally, every 10 minutes, and I can't deal with the screaming. Heh..as if on cue...there she goes yelling again. But that's that. Fun fun, fuckin fun.
Insomnia is no big deal. It's minor, I've learned to control it with a wonderful thing called sleeping pills. But it's main cause is the PTSD. I'm afraid to go to sleep, because of the nightmares, and the fear has drilled itself into my head, so my body just doesn't sleep. But I'm taking control of that, it's really no big deal.
So that's that. Fashion Bug just called me. They want me to come pick out my outfit for the Fall Fashion Show I'm in this Saturday. Greeeeat. I told them I'd be there either later today or tomorrow. Hopefully much later. Or tomorrow. I can't even go downstairs. I need to...scream. If I could just scream, I'd be perfectly fine. Of course, screaming, is followed by crying, is followed by some form of SI, or an attack, or some other form of insanity. It's great. Really FUCKIN great.
Woo. Chilling out. I need to talk to Lowell. I wish he'd call. Then I'd calm down. I think. I hope. I don't know.
Anyways, I've gotta do something to calm myself down and relieve my urges, so I can go downstairs and tell mom that I have to make my way to Fashion Bug sometime in the next day or so. Yeah. So I'm gonna go. Ja. Lau melted away at 11:35 a.m. Monday, September 2, 2002 How Ironic (*T*)
I just when downstairs a few mins ago to get some rice krispies, because I was amazingly hungry, and I have on a short sleeve shirt. Well, it covers the cuts on my upper arm, but not the one on my wrist. It's not on the inside of my wrist, it's on the top, it's easier to explain that way. She asked me what happened, and I told her the rabbit scratched me, but I kinda stuttered, because she caught me by surprise, so I thought she didn't believe me, but she did. I knew that by the next comment. She was like "I was gonna say Laurz, if you're trying to cut your wrists, it's the wrong side" and she started laughing, ya know, joking around and all. So I was just like "Yeah, I know" in a fake pouty, fooling around voice. But that caught me by major surprise. You'd think she would've figured out that I've cut my wrists by now..but no. I mean, one day, I had cuts from my wrist to my elbow, that were extremely obvious that they were from a razor, and she saw them. So she asked me about them and I told her I fell on the cement on my way into dance class. A complete and total obvious lie, that she believed. She never cares. I mean, jeezuz, the other day, she believed that I tripped and fell against a brick wall and scraped my upper arm. What frickin brick wall could I have fallen against, and how could I have scraped it that bad? Jeezuz, what a dumbass. Well, I have to get going, because mom and dad are rushing me. We're leaving in an hour for some family cookout, and then I'm going to Lowell's. I just wanna go to sleep. Well, I wanna sleep then I wanna go to Lowell's. I miss him. Already. *pout*
Anyways, Ja. Lau melted away at 11:23 a.m. Monday, September 2, 2002 My Diag-nonsense..
Let's see here...Sleep Apnea...doubt it. Insomnia..I know I'm an insomniac, but I'm in control of that. Obsessive Complusive..I'll get to that later. Bipolar...naaaah. I know I'm Ana...let's leave it at that. PTSD...let's check here. I found a check list of symptoms during an "attack" to see if it's PTSD. I put an x next to each on that's true for me.
Well then. Hm. Moving on, what's next? Ah, manic depressive. I wouldn't doubt it. So there's my current diag-nonsense. I'm still waiting for results from another test. I'll post them when I get them. But about the Obsessive-Compulsive. I've been O-C since ever I can remember. But you know what? Nobody's ever known, and I've never told anyone. I'm not going to say what I do, or how I know, because I don't feel like getting into it, but I am, and I know I am. But nobody else knows I am because I refuse to tell anyone because I'm damn stubborn. Aha. I've also had a good clue about the PTSD, I've had panic attacks for awhile now, and they're driving me insane. Very hard to deal with. I'm dealing with Ana. And what was the other one? Oh, Insomnia. Yeah, I've got sleeping pills. So the only things that are worth speaking of, are the O-C, which I'm most likely not going to tell anyone about, Manic Depressive which...I dunno, and Anorexia, which no ther-rape-ist is going to hear about, because I don't feel like putting up with their shit. But anyways, there is my vast fucked'up ness. Great, isn't it? *rolls eyes* I think I'm going to head to bed. Ja. Lau melted away at 03:34 a.m. Monday, September 2, 2002 Archived'ness...weee...
I have absolutely nothing interesting to say. I just archived my page. So I'm just putting this up so it'll clear it and all.
I just got off the phone with Lowell. I didn't want to get off, but my phone died. O.O something just knocked on my door o.O;; And there's nothing out there. Hm. I've had a pretty bad night so far. We went shopping, so as usual I heard all the insults and complaints from mom, which really brought me down. I tried to keep from going all the way down, but it hit me once everyone went to bed and I almost pulled some pretty stupid shit. Hence the last entry, entitled "Goodbye". But I deleted that, for good reason. But yeah, Lowell and I had some major misunderstandings and it scared the hell out of me. But things are alright. I love him so much. I still don't know how I got so lucky.
But the night just got worse. I was looking at some Pro-Ana and Pro-SI sites earlier. Just what I need. Hints and tips to starve and mutilate yourself. -_- I'm sick of using triggers, so I'm just not going to from now on, well, prolly not, sometimes I might, sometimes I might not. *shrug* I need to get some help though. Not for the Ana, I can deal with that myself, and not for the SI, I can deal with that too, but just the general depression and Anxiety Attacks. I've got a little research to do here in a little while, get some results, narrow down all my diag-nonsense. That way I can look into it all further and try to help myself along with it, because there's no way I'm going to be able to see a psych. I don't have the money. I wish I did, because I really want to see a psych, I just refuse to admit that to anyone. Blaaaaaaah..
But I think I'm gonna go narrow everything down now. I'll post it up here once I get it. Until then, Ja. Lau melted away at 02:14 a.m. |
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