// (non-)Revelations
| 11/8/2005 - 6:34 p.m. |

mon, 11-7-05, 4:22pm
(school parking lot)

I guess I didn't realize just how shut down I was until I was there. And how scared too probably. And that doesn't feel good either. The awkwardness, silences...wishing I could just lay down and take a nap. Yeah, I'll take it over the intensity of the last session, but I still end up feeling all 'angsty' regardless.
BITES I tell you, Bites.


...Unhappy--the word just popped into my head. Sad. Lonely. Have I mentioned scared? Lost. I wonder sometimes how I even manage to keep breathing under the weight of all the pain lurking in my body.

All the bitching and/or getting down on myself about the dearth of 'functioning' I do--it could just as well be amazing that I do anything at all, put on the face I do (even to myself), when the truth is that at the core, I'm crushingly miserable. And I block it out so much, mindlessly wading thru mindless days, that it almost feels like some major revelation. Just writing it down tho makes me feel just a little bit of it. And a mere fraction is all it takes for me to want to crawl under the covers w/ my tweety and stay there indefinitely.

How am I not starving and/or bingeing and/or purging and/or pill popping and/or everything else? Really, I'm serious. Its about as logical as the fact I've never made an active suicide attempt. Like, who is intensely suicideal near 24/7 for 2+ long years, and never so much as ODs??

It's like no matter how broken and shattered I am/feel, there is some immovable boulder that simply...well, doesn't move. I suppose some would call that "strength," but it feels anything but. It feels like hell and also doesn't feel like anything at all, doesn't feel connected to me.

Nothing feels connected to me really. I don't even know what I mean actually, but its true nonetheless. It's like nothing thats true makes any sense....Man, I have no idea what I'm talking about right now...--5:07pm



5:54pm
(in classroom)

Not good. Its like when every sec. that goes by, the pain cuts a little deeper. I hate my brain. I hate people who are "happy"...but I'm still at school anyway. Why I have no idea. A masochist I guess. (Somebody spank me...) Sitting here waiting for class to start, hacking up a lung. Good stuff, good stuff.