Stand in the Rain

She never slows down.
She doesn't know why but she knows that when she's all alone, 
Feels like its all coming down
She won't turn around
The shadows are long and she fears if she cries that first tear,
The tears will not stop raining down

So stand in the rain
Stand your ground
Stand up when it's all crashing down
You stand through the pain
You won't drown
And one day, whats lost can be found
You stand in the rain

She won't make a sound
Alone in this fight with herself and the fears whispering 
If she stands she'll fall down
She wants to be found
The only way out is through everything she's running from 
Wants to give up and lie down.

So stand in the rain
Stand your ground
Stand up when it's all crashing down
You stand through the pain
You won't drown
And one day, whats lost can be found
You stand in the rain

So stand in the rain
Stand your ground
Stand up when it's all crashing down
Stand through the pain
You won't drown
And one day, whats lost can be found

So stand in the rain
Stand your ground
Stand up when it's all crashing down
You stand through the pain
You won't drown
And one day, whats lost can be found
You stand in the rain

I'm not an addict...

Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before. All you can do is try to know who your friends are as you head off to war. 


Fuck. I'm trying to convince myself to not skip lunch and maybe dinner too. I really want to. I can tell I should eat, my stomach feels empty, I have a headache, and i'm getting tired. But perhaps because hunger, in my mind, has become shakey and feeling sick and maybe even dizzy, too, not just an empty stomach. I know I should eat. But everything is just so unappealing. I considered salad, a smoothie, even just an apple, at least that would be something. But it's all just so....  blech. So then I try reasoning with myself.... which becomes an argument, which im still in. I try ordering myself. "You're going to go eat something right NOW".
...
...
Hi, i'm still here. I haven't stood up or gone to the kitchen or moved at all, other than to type this.
Fuck.

I feel like yesterday was too easy. Not that it wasn't difficult, but I managed to eat properly and not hurt myself. OH, NOW YOU'RE ALL BETTER, YOU FUCKING LIAR YOU NEVER HAD ANY PROBLEMS, IT WAS ALL JUST BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO BE FUCKED UP AND FOR ATTENTION.
And this entire thing terrifies me. What if I "get better", and i'm still miserable? What if I stop all my "bad habits" and then I just find new ones? I feel like even if it wasn't this it would be something else, that I just want to destroy myself. What if I can't do this and I let everyone down? What if I do manage it, and I have to actually deal with life? That terrifies me. If I don't have this, what do I have, what excuse [not that there is any] do I have for not dealing with life? Fuck this is terrifying.

I say i'm commited to changing this. Me.
And I am.
But I can't bring myself to even throw out the various sharp objects I keep everywhere. Just in case I need them. Which is fucking stupid, I shouldn't need them. I'm trying to change. There shouldn't even be a possibility of "just in case" in my mind. At least that's what I tell myself. If I was talking to Ari, or anyone else, it would be something radically different. Something along the lines of "That's a big step, you need to walk before you can run. This is still scary so of course you're going to cling to things. You're not going to get better all at once, it's a long process, and i'm proud of you for trying. Someday you'll throw them out. <3"
I should listen to myself. It's never been something i'm particularly good at.

Fuck, why is this so hard. It shouldn't be. But at the same time it's too easy. It's too easy and too hard all at once. And that makes no sense. I should be doing better, but I shouldn't be doing as well as I have been. It's oxymoronic and makes no sense. Some of you might understand what i'm talking about with that, though. Either way, it's how I feel.

It's just a habit, it's cool, I feel alive
If you don't have it you're on the other side
I'm not an addict (maybe that's a lie)
I'm not an addict...

Day Two

Last night/this morning is hard. I woke up happy and it still took me a half an hour long argument with myself just to tell myself that today would be okay. And another 15 min one trying to tell myself that i'm beautiful. I feel like such a fucking liar when I say that. I've literally gotten fatter over one day of eating properly, my stomach expanded. I'm not happy about this. I've caught myself more than once this morning, making plans to restrict to be smaller again for [insert date here]. But no. I can't do that.
I want to stop eating. I want to binge. I want to bleed. I don't want to get better. Fuck happiness, I just want to do what I want.
....but i'm not going to let this happen. I'm going to get better and it WILL work and I WILL be happy.

I've been thinking a lot about things. I think that the detachment from everything and confusion about what's inside my head and out, is derealization. It would make a lot of sense.

Also, me and Ari have been asking ourelves and eachother questions, trying to figure out why we are the way we are. Hopefully that will give us some insight into ourselves and how to get better, or at the very least an understanding of who we are and how we got here, and also, ways to help eachother. I'll post them here.

Why the uncomfortableness of discussing it, even with people you know
know and won't judge? Why is it such a difficult topic to talk about?
[self-harm, ED's, etc.]

I think it's partially a shame thing, partially a fear of judgement, but even more so, a fear that they will understand, because that makes them closer. And if I tell them and they just get angry or whatever, it's more of an excuse to get worse, whereas if I open up and people understand and try to help, I feel bad for not getting better, and even more, for not wanting to get better.

Why is the thought of getting better, and being happy, so scary?

I think my reasons are similar to yours. I can't imagine life without this. It's all I know. But this didnt really start till around 14, and then really badly at 15. So my personality did become partially developed. But even though it's only been, like, a year, it's all I can remember how to feel. I don't know how to be happy. As well as if I get better...what if the habits just stop and I still feel like shit? What then? Then everything is still fucked up and I have no way of coping with it.

Why the obsession with weight? We both like curvier girls xD

I think it's really just another form of self harm, for me. I mean, I always knew I was a bit overweight, but it never really bothered me all that much, or at least, I refused to let it. But it became another thing I could make myself more fucked up with, destroy my mind and body even more with. As well as i've always binge-ate somewhat. More than the average person but not to the point of like UHFUGHDHSUFHUSDHFDS. And as I became more aware of that, restricting, just... became a way of dealing with that, but then it put me in a cycle with it that's really...irritating. XD

What do we get out of these "bad habits"? Is it something we can get

out of something else?

I'd say it helps deal with all the fucked up emotions, but really, it more or less caused them. I guess it's the same as with you. Comfort. But for different reasons. I get get into this whole situation and routine and not have to worry about things because im too busy worrying about this, and if i'm not happy then I don't have to worry about the crash downwards from being happy. And it can detach me from everything, at least for a while, and as I feel emotion supersupersuper strongly, it is sometimes nice. It's also a way of physically manifesting how fucked up I feel and how chaotic everything seems. Is it something I can get from something else? I dunno. Probably, just need to find it. We'll see.

Why is it so easy to hide things and lie from ourselves, yet so hard to tell a beneficial "lie" [something we believe to be untrue], such as saying that you're beautiful, even when you don't believe it?

I think it's because it's not something we want to believe, 'cause we don't [didn't?] want to get better. Like, one can lie to themself and say everything is okay because they want to convince themself and the others around them that they're okay. But they don't want to run the risk of believing it because that might mean getting better, which is scary.

How did all of this get started?

This....is a very difficult question to answer. I've got multiple theories, all of them might be right, or they might all be wrong. I'm still figuring this one out. But one thing is that it just...built up. I was dealing with my own problems [which weren't all that large, but it's all how you perceive it] because I knew how to deal with things emotionally. What I didnt know how to do was also deal with other people's problems with a sense of detachment. So I pushed mine to the side to deal with others, and to convince myself that it was alright, even then I downplayed everything and was like "Cat, it's not that big of a deal, ignore it and hope it goes away", which just made it build up and up, making me gradually get worse and worse, until I eventually snapped and everything went downhill from there, and I forgot HOW to deal with my problems, and then I had bigger ones to deal with, caused by my coping mechanism, and the only thing I could do to cope was keep doing what I was doing. By the time I realised this it was too late and I was too secure in all of this to truly try to get out of it.

Stuff: 


Breakfast: 1/2 cup homemade oatmeal. Very small amount of brown sugar and cinnamon added to it, as well as some apple pieces.

Lunch: Skipped. Fuck.

Dinner: TBA, but i'm going to be making pizza with my mom, as per usual friday. A. might come.

Harm: None.

Excersize: Cleaning paddocks.

As per usual, no internet on the weekends, so I will update this, and the rest of the weekend's posts, on monday when i'm back at my grandma's.

"If you could see yourself, just for a day, you'd see how everyone else sees you. And my god, you are fucking beautiful"

Day One.

Breakfast: 1 piece of toast [slightly burnt XD] with butter, a mandarin orange, and a small bowl of apple-cinnamon cheerios.

Snack: I also had two bites of an apple later at the barn, the rest got shared with a horse.

Lunch: A small salad with tomato, raisins, and cheese.

Dinner: Chicken pot pie, and as a treat, a milkshake.

Excersize: A riding lesson - Flatwork and a small course.

Harm: None.

New Beginnings

When you feel all alone 

And a loyal friend is hard to find 

You're caught in a one way street 

With the monsters in your head 

When hopes and dreams are far away and 

You feel like you can't face they day 

Let me be the one you call 

If you jump I'll break your fall 

Lift you up and fly away with you into the night 

If you need to fall apart 

I can mend a broken heart 

If you need to crash then crash and burn 

You're not alone 

Because there has always been heartache and pain 

And when it's over you'll breathe again 

You'll breath again 

I'm going to do this. Me and Ari are going to do this. Together. For eachother.
It WILL happen. I promise you, love. I promise to try. I'm going to get better. For you. To get myself standing again. I love you so much. Fuck, this is terrifying, but i'm going to try.

My short term goals are as outlined: 

-No cutting or any other forms of self-harm for two weeks. After that, another 2 weeks. And then another month after that. And then 2 months. [keep doubling after each time.]
Reward: For each goal-time reached for not cutting, i'll do something that makes me happy, whether it be spending time with someone, relaxing by myself, or buying myself something.

-To even out my eating. Eat until i'm full, but no bingeing. [Eat healthier, too, foods that will make this goal easier to achieve, not harder] And excersize moderatly.
Reward: For each day that I don't binge or restrict and do a bit of excersize, I can have 1 treat-food, and for every week I can buy myself something small. Also, after 2 weeks of no cutting AND eating properly, Seara will do me an animation :]

-To allow myself to be happy. To not bring myself down when I feel myself getting into a good mood.
Reward: Letting myself be happy, is reward itself. It's more mind over matter in convincing myself that it's okay, and that will come easier the more I do it.

-To not punish myself when I do something wrong [or feel that I did something wrong.]
Reward: For every time that I really want to punish myself for something, apoligize for it instead, then, if I feel like it, go take a warm bath and read a book and/or listen to music.

-To work [continue to work] on talking again.
Reward: For the moment, talking to someone doesn't need a reward as I have the motivation without it. Though as I go along, I may need one.

-To go to school again [after I start talking again].
Reward: For going to school, a day of pure enjoying myself and not having any responsibilites. See people that make me happy, eat food I enjoy, ride, listen to loud music and be hyper, etc. Phone you <3

-To every morning, wake up and say, today will be good. To every morning, look in the mirror and tell myself i'm beautiful, whether I mean it or not. To every night, reflect back on the day, and say, that wasn't so bad, let's make tomorrow just as good or better.
Reward: Eventually believing it.

-To accept compliments. At the very least, out loud. Don't try to convince otherwise or deny it, don't say "No, you" or try to turn it around.
Reward: Eventually believing it, less NO, YOU! arguments.

Long term:

Long term goals, for the moment, are just to get better mentally, and get myself stable. Long term rewards are actually being happy and healthy, and meeting up with you. This will be edited when the long term goals are somewhat within sight.

From now on, this blog has a new name. A more recovery-esque name.

The night is so long when everything's wrong

If you give me your hand

I will help you hold on

Tonight, tonight

This is the last night you'll spend alone

Look me in the eyes so I know you know

I'm everywhere you want me to be

The last night you'll spend alone

I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go

I'm everything you need me to be

I won't let you say goodbye

And I'll be your reason why

The last night away from me

Away from me 

"Why is it, my shadow-striding friend, that we don't fear dreams? We lose consciousness, lose control, things happen with no apparent logic and abiding by no apparent rules.... We don't fear dreams, but we do fear madness, and death terrifies us."   

Things seem so clear when I'm dreaming, but I'm not sure whether that's an illusion or if I just forget the fine details when I awaken.
But what is a dream and what's reality? The line seems to have been blurred. I'm not even sure what's in my head and what's outside of it, anymore. Things that should feel real feel like someone else, like a story i've made up in my head. Things that are just inside my head feel more real than the things around me that I can touch, see, feel. Things that I know matter to me or at least should, just... don't. I can't care because they're not to do with me, they're just a story. And the thoughts I have, the stories I think up, they can feel real. When I think of different situations and ways different conversations could go [sometimes allowing me to get lost in thought for hours] feel like they actually happened. Sometimes i'll forget that I never had a certain conversation with someone, because I thought about it so much. It never happened but it feels so real. And thinking about my thoughts and the way things work feel so right, and even if not clear... they feel "there" at least. But when it comes to things I do, things I don't do, things that happen, things that need to happen, things people say... they don't feel real. It's just a story. Just a random thought. It feels...foggy. Not foggy like you can't see it, but foggy like...dfgdhgh I don't know how to expain it.. It can't be true. It's someone else's life. This isn't me - i'm hidden from me. Or the real me resides in my head, hiding from everything. Possibly both. This feels so weird. Life isn't...life. It's a shadow of life. Like i'm in a dream. Awake and dreaming. [That's an awesome book, btw.] Like there's this foggy overlay over life. Like i'm watching someone else, or looking at the world through a mirror, or a reflection in a pond.

I think I might possibly be going insane. Oh well.

Wow, that last post was really whiney. Whiney bitch.

Anyways. Hung out with Hastings yesterday... it's nice. I missed him. A lot. And I actually managed to talk to him. I'm proud of myself. [Or I would be if I was allowed to be]. But then again, he always was the one I first opened up to, first spoke again to, the only other one who knew what I was going through. So it's not really surprising. I did a lot of thinking yesterday. About a lot of things. I spent at least an hour on a picnic table on the deck, staring up at the sky, thinking. Though mostly that was because the internet was getting changed over. Otherwise I would have been at a computer screen xP </computer addict>

Today, The Counsellor wanted to know what good I got from silence. And what bad. He wanted a list. Luckily for him I had apready thought about it, and had a long ramble already saved. Though he doesn't get to read that. Not all of it. No. Sorry, entry this way is banned, detour that way ^. But enough to answer his question. I emailed it to him. Also, he asked if any time during the past week if I felt the need to cut or if I did cut. I told him that I feel the urge every single day for most of it and I cut yesterday and some before that and some before that I told him that I felt the urge once but didn't.

Reasons not talking helps:
Okay, for one thing, you know how most people think in words, or pictures, or whatever? Well I think in feelings. It's odd. Like, when im remembering something, im more likely to remember what I was feeling [physically or emotionally] at the time, and I link emotions with physical feelings... there are "soft" emotions, "sharp emotions", "cold" emotions, etc. So it's hard for me to give coherant explanations for the way my brain works, and it means I have a hard time converting thoughts in my head.

[also, combine at with an associative memory, and my brain gets fucked XD]

Now, that's always my primary mode of thinking. But. When im talking, my secondary mode would be in pictures, or in video clips. 

When I stop talking, however, it goes to words. Which makes it a lot easier for me to think and make sense of things. It makes my thoughts a lot clearer and easier to understand. Even if I still think primarily in feelings, the change from pictures to words does make it easier. So, it makes my thoughts clearer, and makes it easier for me to think.

Also, I spend a lot of time worrying over what I say and how to say it and when and where and all that stuff. Stopping verbal communication gets rid of some of that. So that's one more thing I don't have to be worrying about. It makes me less anxious and gives me less to worry about.

As well as im always quite sensitive to what's going on around me [what people are doing, movements, people's emotions/thoughts, action around me, who and what are where , etc I notice it all. I'm always paying attention to it], and not talking, although it amplifies that, also makes it easier for me to focus, in a way

And I tend to withdraw into myself a LOT more when i'm not talking, which can be a bad thing and leads to bad things, is also useful because it means I spend a lot of time alone with myself, so it's a good time for looking inwards and figuring shit out and stuff like that. [as well as it's easier to do that because my brain is cearer from aforementioned reasons] As well as because I pick up on other people's emotions so badly [i'm like an emotional sponge, it's like I can feel their emotions radiating off them like heat sometimes] I sometimes have issues telling whether im feeling something or just picking up someone else's emotion. It makes my emotions clearer, as well. 

Also, I get on a more creative kick again when i'm not talking. More drawing, writing, etc, which is a good release.

Mostly I just get more turned inwards and thoughtful and clearer. More introverted [than I already am] xD

Reasons it DOESN'T help:
When i'm not talking, i'm never sure how someone will react to me. Many people get frustrated with it, or upset, or worried, or angry, or just incredibly awkward and don't know how to react. So when spending time with people, it makes me more anxious and on guard. And it makes others around me [insert negative emotion here]

Another problem with it is I can't talk, even if I wanted to. If it was a choice it would be fine, but not being able to is....frustrting, to say the least. I get upset because I can't talk, angry and frustrated with myself, worried/anxious/stressed. So it actually makes my stress level go up. And when I really want to talk, or I want to say something but it's really long to write out, it's annoying because it does make communication difficult.

And although withdrawing into myself can be a good thing because I can really examine myself and figure shit out, it's a bad thing as well because I bottle things up more and don't feel as close to people, and don't have as much of a healthy release.

Anyways, yeah. There's more, but I don't feel like typing it out right now.

I can't even decide what is a good day or what's a bad day. It's constant "cookie dough"... the term for a  huge mix of emotions.  And yes, I know that's normal, but i'm not used to it. And it's, like, extreme cookie dough. [EXTREME COOKIE DOUGH. That'd be a good flavour of ice cream. XD]. I think it's not going to school that's making everything so up-and-down, rather than constant detachment. School makes everything grey. Not going makes it more up-and-down, more emotional extremes [including - perhaps mostly - negative ones]  and less detachment. It makes the days better and the nights worse.

Anyways, that's all for now, though i'll probably rant more later.

And I just want to say to someone out there [you know who you are] I wish so much I could rant about you on my blog like you have on yours. I wish there was words to say. Just, I love you. <3333

---

Food: A buttered scone and a banana. And an iced capp. I fail. For eating too much. And simultaniously not enough. But mostly blargh. If I didn't have to ride tonight I wouldn't have eaten at all.
Injuries: I don't know how many. Probably around 200. From yesterday.

Do you know how it feels to feel like shit, every single night? The emotion's sometimes different but the pain, it's all the same.
Do you know how it feels to want so badly to cry, but only be able to manage to squeeze out red tears from your skin, and not a drop from your eyes?
Do you know what it's like to want the day to end but dread the day to come?
Have you ever felt true pain, that left you wanting to crawl out of your own skin and die?
Do you know how it feels to crave, to need perfection, yet know you'll never attain it?
Do you know what it's like to be spiralling downward so fast everything's a blur?

I want someone to hold me. To be able convince me of all the things i'm not. To open my eyes and let me see. To make me feel like, maybe, i'm not all alone. Who could actually reassure me, and make me believe, that everything will be okay. That no, I don't need to be perfect. To make me comfortable in my own skin. I want someone who won't abandon me when they realise how fucked up I am.
Just once, I wish someone would stay my hand when i'm reaching for a razor. Just once, I wish someone would keep me from leaving for the bathroom right after I ate. I wish someone would be brave enough to deal with all of me. To care for me when i'm screaming and crying and bleeding. To love me, even when i'm not feeling well.

I don't deserve these things, though. So even if I was able to get them [which i'm not] I would push it away. It's good for me, and bad for them, so, it won't happen. STUPID BITCH FOR WANTING, FOR NEEDING.

I will never be good enough for myself.
I will never be the perfect that I need to be, that I need like a drowning man needs air, that I crave like a parched man needs water.

I NEED TO BE PERFECT.
i need to have the perfect body with slimness and no fat and the perfect mind that only shows smiles and no pain and i have to be the perfect daughter that does everything right and the perfect student who gets straight a's and the perfect rider who is never afraid and the perfect person with nothing for people to complain about including myself. 
Perfect.


Everything must be fine. Everything must be well.
I must be well. Or at least keep up the appearances of being well.
I must be physically perfect, with no flaws to be seen. If any flaws are present, they must be the perfect flaw, that is not really a flaw.
I must be kind and calm [but not too calm] and friendly [but not too friendly] and energetic [but not too energetic].

There must be nothing wrong with me.

I must be perfect. There is no other option. Perfection or death. I MUST BE PERFECT. I NEED IT.

THERE. IS. NO. OTHER. OPTION. BUT. PERFECTION.

I WILL be the perfect girl.

I WILL.

I better...

White walls whisper softly. You tell me how to feel, what to think.
You ask me questions, and when I don't answer, you spit the answers back at me.

Poor bird, never learned to fly. Poor rabid wolf, never learned not to bite.

You thought I was a glass window, transparent and shining. But you only saw a reflection of yourself - I am really a mirror with a thousand cracks and broken pieces. You asked what kind of window polish I wanted, when you should have asked if I needed any more glue, so I wouldn't have to hold it together with my blood. 

I am not a book to be read. You cannot just crack my spine open and read my heart on the pages. It doesn't work that way.

I am not your kind of music. I am not anyone's. My song is not one of sweet melodys and harmonies. It is a tune that will make your ears bleed, of ugly chords and unbalanced keys.

The higher you climb, the harder you fall.
I've begun to fear happiness because i'm scared of the crash that comes afterwards. Like not drinking because you don't want to deal with the hangover. I'd rather stay grey [with a splash of red to offset it].

^Showers are wonderful things, they wash the blood away nice and neat. It's quite fantastic. ^

You should have asked again. 

"Old habits die hard but their ghosts always stay to haunt you"

I thought I had rearranged my head to get out of that sort of thinking. I thought I was over that.

Fuck.

I don't want to go down that road again.

I never say the right thing. It's never right - GODGIRLTHINKBEFOREYOUSPEAKYOUBITCHOFAFAILURE - and I always end up annoying someone, or hurting someone, - WHATTHEFUCKAREYOUCOMPLETELYINCAPABLEOFFORETHOUGHT - or pissing someone off.

I've already sewn my lips shut with thread made of red tears and taped it with fear. Now I need to staple my fingers together so they can't type or write, and I'll be good. With no communication, I can eventually shrink away, disappearing into the shadows. Withdraw into my broken and bloody mind, and destroy it until there's nothing left, and, I, being unused to the air outside of my mind, will die gasping for breath.

I am the voice that lives in your head
(I am the voice the edges you on)
Always coaxing, calling to you
whispering secrets to be kept inside

Because of this, I can never sleep again
My eyes are the size of saucers(My smile is as twisted as your mind)
Hiding in dark corners and shadows of emotion
I am always with you, silently watching
observing, listening, guiding
Telling you what you need to do
(Telling you what perfection is)

I drive you insane, am driven insane
Taking one's pleas and turning them inside-out
Fighting an army all of your ownYou are never alone 


Ripped apart.
Pulled inside out.
Shoved inside.

I just want to run away from everything.
I have this overwhelming urge to just make time stop, and stop everything, and just run away from it all, run and run and go nowhere, just get away from everything.
I want to get away from it all and leave it all behind me, just disappear, stop time and run to nowhere. Break free.
Escape everything.

...I feel stuck, though. Stuck in one place, going nowhere and getting dragged to where I don't want to, while somehow remaining stationary while everything around me moves forward.

Also, on a slightly different note... Love.
That's all, just, love.
Connection.
You know who you are. <3

I AM SO BEYOND PISSED OFF RIGHT NOW.

I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL HER.
I'M GONNA DIG HER EYEBALLS OUT WITH A SPOON AND FEED THEM TO HER ALONG WITH A CLASS OF HYDROCHLORIC ACID. I'M GONNA FUCKING CUNT PUNCH HER TO PLUTO. I'LL LIGHT HER VAGINA ON FIRE.  I'LL TEAR HER ARMS OUT OF HER SOCKETS ONE BY ONE AND BEAT HER WITH THEM. I'LL BEND HER IN UNNATURAL WAYS AND NAIL HER TO THE WALL. I'LL BREAK EVERY BONE ONE BY ONE AND THEN TAKE A CHAINSAW TO HER.  I'LL POUR DRAINO DOWN HER THROAT AND WATCH AS IT BURNS OUT HER INSIDES AND SHE COUGHS UP BLOOD AND ACID. I'LL THROW HER INTO A FIRE AND WATCH HER BURN. BUUUUUUUUURN, BITCH, BURNNNNNNNNN.

YOU DON'T FUCKING SAY THAT. AND IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A FUCKING IGNORANT CUNT YOU WOULD KNOW THAT. GROW UP. GROW UP AND LEARN TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR OWN FUCKING DAUGHTER. IF YOU DON'T FUCKING LEARN TO LISTEN I'LL TAKE A KNIFE TO YOUR EAR AND FUCKING RIP IT OPEN. YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT YOUR BRAINS FALLING OUT, SINCE YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE A ALARMING LACK OF THEM. STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKTARD AND GROW UP.

HONESTLY.

DO YOU EVEN HAVE A BRAIN?

IGNORANT FUCKTARD CUNT.

So, I had my first counselling appointment today. It went okay, I guess. I've been given until Friday to decide whether
A] I want help
B] That counsellor will work for me.
I don't want help really, and I want to say that I don't want to do...but I sort of promised Mom that I'd try. So...I dunno. And as for the guy...my first impression of him wasn't good, but, it wasn't horrible either, and I was biased when I went in. I don't know. He seems fine, I guess.

I don't know. I have to think, I guess.

I managed a bit of food on monday, and a bit yesterday. I'm not eating today.

On a more cheerier not, I WANT THIS HAT. http://calgarycosplay.com/zombiehat.php

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANT.

Y'know what? I was determined to be in a good mood today. This morning I told myself, "You're going to be fucking happy! EVEN IF I HAVE TO DRAG YOU INTO IT KICKING AND SCREAMING, YOU'RE GOING TO BE HAPPY."
I was doing pretty well, too.

Then, came dinner.

I couldn't figure out how much to eat would be enough as viewed by family, yet be small enough for my comfort. So, I just put on my plate what I would have ate in previous years.
Apparently, it was too much. My uncle kept making fun of me for how much I ate.
He went on for like a full minute. "Gee, enough food there? You gonna eat all that? Careful or you'll end up like me [he's like at least 300 lbs]. Do your pants have an elastic waistband or soemthing or are you gonna just pop the top button?" etc etc. He just went on and on.
God, i'm such a fucking pig.
Nobody stopped him, or disagreed with him. The entire time everyone was staring at me and thinking, "Gawd, could she eat ANY more?!"
And then to top it all off, I ate pie, as well.
I feel so sick. I never want to eat again.

YOU THINK I ATE TOO MUCH?
FINE.
IT WON'T FUCKING HAPPEN AGAIN.

Thanksgiving. Yay, group bingeing.
Fuck.
....enough said.

Food: small bowl of oatmeal, and a salmon salad sandwich. [Oatmeal was my choice, sandwich wasn't.] And i'll have to eat pizza tonight.
Injuries: I essentially pushed myself WAY too hard excersizing and then riding so now my muscles are all torn up. Cuts are still healing.

It's so weird. I keep expecting it to hit me that my dad's gone. At first it just felt like he was still here. Now, it doesn't even feel like that. It doesn't feel like I'm dealing or even not dealing. I'm in that detached state, yet I'm very confused as to how I can, when I'm so depressed recently. Perhaps there's a limit to my numbness, and it can only hold so much? That would make sense. I'm feeling the overflow of my detachment, what I would normally keep away from myself, I can't, because I'm filled up being detached from my dad's death. Every once in a while something will hit me... like when I looked at the clock and thought "Oh, Dad should be phoning soon", or when I go to eat something different because I remembered that what I was going to eat was saved for him.

But mostly, it just feels...normal. I go through my day, doing whatever, go through the night, doing whatever. Sleep some. Wake up. Repeat. Every day ends up the same. The only real deviation is what I eat, or what kind of bad I'm feeling that day. And occasionally I'll go to the barn or see someone, and that changes things, but really, it's all the same. Grey. And I'm not even back in school yet - I won't be until I'm talking again.

--I walk through my day.
I see the same people.
I do the same things.
Always the same default answer to the same question. "How are you?"
"Good thanks, how 'bout you?"
I feel empty; hollow. 
There's a void where my heart should be,
Ripped out by one of my many dreams. There is no colour, no contrast. Everything is in shades of grey.
Every day blurs together, time is but an illusion.  Every day is different but they all feel the same.
Monotone.
My feet plod along the ground, taking step after step.
My mind is elsewhere, but my body responds with the ease of practice.
Every new day is just an extension of the one before.
I live, I breathe, I exist... yet I am not here. I haven't been, for some time now.
Shades of grey, that's all this is.
Shades of grey. --


I can't decide whether I like this or not. I'm pretty sure I don't. But my emotions and opinions are completely fucked, so who the hell knows. Mostly I'm made happy by things I think should make me happy, and made sad of things that I think should make me sad. I like things I think I should like and dislike things I think I shouldn't.
*shrug*. I suppose it doesn't matter if I like it or not anyways, since it's going to be this way whether I like it or not. I might as well enjoy it.
...oh, never mind, I forgot, I'm not allowed to enjoy anything. Sorry, my bad.

I've been thinking about Sol a lot recently. I miss him. I miss having someone to hold me tight and whisper love into my ear - a sweet, soft melody like the sound of the wind on the river that echoes inside me and flows through me, warming me down to my soul. I miss having my problems chased away through cuddles and having someone there to wipe away my tears. I miss love. It's my own fault that I lost it, but, still. Right now there's nothing I want more, and alas, it's not something within my reach.

Another thing I've been thinking about, is whether or not to tell Hanners about all of this. Well, at least about the cutting. I'd rather her never know, but, as things are going right now, she'll find out somehow, eventually, and I'd rather her find out through my words, not some other way. But she'll worry non-stop, and she'll be hurt that I stooped this low, and that I kept it secret for so long, lied to her so much. She'll freak out and I won't even be able to comfort her, not when it's me that set her off, this way. And she already has so much on her plate... but it will be worse if she finds out any other way...
I don't know. This requires further thought.

"When did the cogs of fate begin to turn?
Perhaps it is impossible to grasp the answer now,
From deep within the flow of time...

But, for a certainty, back then,
We loved so many, yet hated so much,
We hurt others and were hurt ourselves...

Yet even then, we ran like the wind,
Whilst our laughter echoed,
Under cerulean skies..."       

It's amazing how people change over the years... I mean, change is natural. Everything and everyone changes. That's life. But often the changes are so small you don't notice them. But when you look back, you realise you're a completely different person.

There was this girl I used to be friends with. We'll call her Angel. We were complete opposites... she was quiet, I was loud. She was girly, I was a tomboy. Yet, in the true style of children, we became good friends. She lived down the street from me, and I'd go see her everyday. We made these stupid little recordings. We played with the toys at her house and the cats at mine. I helped her sell girl-guide cookies, she helped me fund-raise for other things.
One day, I found out she was moving.
I was upset, of course. Not devastated, but, definitely upset. For about a year I lost contact with her. Then one day I got a phone call. She was so difficult to hear - she was still the same quiet Angel. But, it was her. We commenced writing letters to each other, old skool! Now, I had a pen pal. We kept each other updated on our lives. The envelopes for our letters were always brightly coloured and decorated. There were long periods where I didn't hear from her. She moved around more than anyone else I've ever known.
She had a hard time with school. Being shy, she was easy pickin's for bullies. In one letter to me, when we were about 12, she said she was starting to get into some drugs, that she was having a hard time coping. "But don't worry, I'm fine." she said.
After that, she moved again, and I didn't hear from her for years.
A while ago, I reconnected with her via facebook. It seems we've both come a long way since. She got into drugs... got a major cocaine addiction. Was locked up in an institution, and escaped. Got sent back, and got let out. Thought a lot about suicide, but she kept going. Did some prostitution in order to get drugs, and to hitchhike. She's definitely got some issues of her own. "...and now they are saying I have a psychosis, which I think is bull shit but whatever. I'm perfectly sane- don't worry. Lol."

It's scary how much she's gone through, how much she's changed from that sweet, quiet little girl. In many ways she's still the same... but she's gone through so much.

I wonder if this is a normal thing. You see people that seem completely fine... but everybody has their issues, they just hide them better. Maybe you have to go through hell to get to your stable life. Perhaps everyone goes through this. The ones who have the strength to carry on get through it, and the ones that can't, don't. They die.

Angel isn't the only person I can think of that's changed in this way. Hell, take me, for example. I've changed so much, particularly in the past year, it's not even funny.

Dea was my best friend for five years. She was always bossy and insecure, but, she was my friend. She was goofy to the point of just plain-out weird... we were the class misfits. Her, me, and Hanners. Eventually I got sick of her controlling bullshit and "divorced her as my friend". I haven't had much contact with her since then, and that was six years ago. But, from what I've seen... she's grown into her intelligence more, but, still has that insecurity. By grade eight she was a pothead. She found herself a boyfriend that she loved, but dropped out of school. In grade 10, she had her child. Now she's back in school again.
I used to harbor a lot of resentment towards her, but, not anymore. I'm not saying I want to go out and be friends with her again, because, that ship has sailed, and I think she would annoy me. And I suppose, thinking back, it's no surprise how she ended up - with the way she was raised, she could have gotten much worse. It's just strange to look at her and see who she is now.

Even those happy with their life, like Hannelore... she's changed. She's gotten more control over herself, gotten more mature, dealt with anxiety and OCD. Learned to cope with it, and with her muscles. But she's so different from the little girl she used to be. Sure, she's still Hanners... the same Hanners that told on us and got us in trouble when we were going to steal her older sisters bra and bring it to her class. The same Hanners, that, upon meeting my Dad for the first time, blurted out "Ilikeyourcaritsgreen"

Nobody stays the same person as they were. Everyone is always changing; evolving. But still... what changes a person? Is it their base nature? Does that change? Are some more prone to extreme change than others?
What causes this - base nature, what happens to them, who they know? All of the above?
Do you have to change for the worse to change for the better? Is there such thing as changing for the worse, or is it all gray area. [Is there right or wrong decisions, or is a choice in itself impossible to be good or bad?]

It's a strange thought. I wonder what would have happened had things been different. What if Angel hadn't moved? What if I stayed friends with Dea? What if I never met some people? What if I never made the choice to start fucking my life up? What if Hannelore died as a baby when she had that seizure? What if, what if, what if, what if.... People say "what if" thoughts are useless, that you can't change it and there's no point concerning yourself with what might have been. I disagree - although it does no good to become lost in these thoughts and let them take you over, used correctly they can give you a lot of insight into your future, and decision making now.

....total mindfuck.

WHY THE FUCK DO I OPEN MY BIG FAT MOUTH.

I should have learned to just keep it shut by now. Nobody likes a downer. Nobody likes those people that are upset all the time. I'm already annoying enough to people as it is - no need to push it and be even more annoying, AND depressing. I should've just kept faking it...EXCUSE ME FOR GIVING YOU AN HONEST ANSWER TO HOW I WAS DOING. You say you'd rather me tell you the truth, but when I do, you "are going to bed because you want to wait to talk to me for when i'm in a better mood"?! WTF.
FINE. I WON'T TELL YOU THEN. I'LL KEEP MY BIG FAT MOUTH CLAMPED SHUT AND NOTHING BUT LIES WILL BURST FROM IT.

Geez Katze, this is why everyone hates you. Why nobody ever wants to talk to you anymore. Why you annoy the fuck out of anyone you're with for even a small amount of time.
And it's not even like you usually get any enjoyment from talking to most people, anyways. Ari's probably the only person that truly makes you smile. So does Sol, but he also reminds you of sadness and how you don't deserve love. Freya makes you laugh but doesn't always want to talk to you.
You just can't do anything right. Failure. Fuck-up. Bitch.
Oh, don't forget Ugly and Fat. Yes, with capital letters.

I am such a fucktard. Someone shoot me, please. I'm serious. I need a good blow to the head. Or a slap to the face. Or a kick to the vag. Something, anything, to knock some sense into me and make me quit being such a fucking retard.

Food: One word: PIG.
oinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoinkoink
Injuries: Hell yeah.

It's weird how much I can retreat into my head. It screws me up... everything becomes backwards and inside out and i'm somewhere in the translucent wall between inside and outside, looking both ways. Being silent makes this stronger, as does being by myself for long periods of time. So both of them together...
It's odd, to say the least.

Food: Urgh. I don't even want to go there. Just, fuck.
Injuries: Later.

Wow. Five posts in two days.

I don't even know why i'm writing this. Just wasting time, I suppose. I seem to do a lot of that. Wasting time. As if it's some kind of commodity. In some ways, I suppose, it is. It's really the world's most precious commodity. There's always too little or too much of it. Never the right amount. It's wasted, and borrowed, and bought, which means it's an item of sorts. Yet it can also be killed....it is living?
Hmm. Time is a slave. Yet we're also a slave to time.

I really do a lot of wasting of time. I spend my time sitting on the computer and complaining about being bored, when really, there's so many other, more productive, things I can be doing. Like sorting my life out. I guess I just keep hoping that if I sit here long enough, everything will slow to a halt and I won't have to worry about anything like deadlines or time or my life.

...or, more likely, i'm just a lazy fatass. *shrug*

People ask me why i'm so hard on myself. The truth is, I wish I could see what they see. I do. But, since I can't, I won't bother. I'll vent my feelings towards myself and maybe punish myself too, because that's what I deserve. It's all I can see, so, I want to feel it, too.

--Great job Cat. You're fucked everything up yet again. Or, more precisely, still. You're still fucking everything up. When are you going to stop being an idiot? Whena re you going to stop being a failure? When are you going to get ahold of yourself? When are you going to stop being a fuck up?
Urgh. Good job, bitch.
Ugly.
Stupid.
Fat. 
Liar.
Failure.

All these things that you've written on yourself, in red... That you've marked in yourself... Do you know why? Because they're true. You are such a bitch, so ugly. Such a stupid, failure. And I wonder what'd come out of your mouth if you weren't a liar. 

They're right, y'know. You ARE an attention whore. You ARE a selfish bitch.

Fuck you. Go die in a fucking hole. It's what you deserve. I hate you. Fix your broken self, or give up. Because you're not worth it. Go die in a hole.

You're horrible, you know that? Just, just horrible. How can you do this? How can you be like this? How can you BE this?! You're so messed up. You're so fucked. You're fucked in the head. No wonder you hate yourself. You SHOULD. And not only are you messed up, you're ugly as shit. And you're fat. Oh my god, are you fat. You're disgusting and terrible looking, and you're just so ugly. Ugly and fat.
Fine, you know what? Go ahead, sit there and destroy yourself. Keep on destroying yourself from the inside out. Let yourself become one of your monsters.
See if I care.
I hate you.
Get a grip.


......


You. Are such a failure.
I am so sick of you. Of dealing with your stupid mistakes, of cleaning up your messes. Can't you ever do anything right?! Apparently not.

You're destroying everything you ever had, and eventually there will be nothing left. You're failing school, failing being happy... failing life. You're going to lose your job, and if you keep going, everybody who loves you and cares about you. If you let yourself alienate everyone you love, everyone will have given up on you and all you'll have left is yourself. Oh, no, wait. You won't even have that. I barely know this person, this monster, that you've become. And I hate it. I hate YOU. Get a grip.

You're so worthless, not worthy of anyone's attention, anyone's love, anyone's trust, anyone's praise. You aren't worth anything. You're nothing more than the words inscribed in your skin. I'm actually glad that they're there forever. That way, you'll never forget what a failure and fuck-up you are. And despite that they're permanantly engraved in your skin, I feel the need to go over them again, make them bleed crimson drops, just so that the pain reminds you, too. Every second of every day, so you'll never forget. And then you can sit there and think of how much you deserve that pain, and smile.

But I haven't, and why? Because other people don't want me to. Because other people who will all eventually hurt and/or abandon you, anyways. And it's not even like I can blame them - I'd abandon you, if I had the chance.

You keep messing everything up. What's your grades in school, Cat? What's your percentages? Did you go on the trip, Cat? No? And why not?
How are you doing at work, Cat? What about at the barn? And how many people have you hurt this week?

You just can't control yourself, can you? Or maybe you can, but you just choose not to. Hell, you can't even eat right. See that? See that fat? You're so disgusting, you pig. You're so ugly. I honestly hate you. No, I DESPISE you. I despise you more than I've ever hated anyone before.
Inside and out, you're just horrible.

Go ahead. Keep going on this path. See where it leads you. You're going to have nothing left. Nobody left. Not... not even yourself.

You ugly, fat bitch. You stupid, pathetic liar.
You horrible failure.
Just... Go die in a hole or something. I don't care anymore. I just... *sigh* I don't care what happens to you.--


No, those were not written recently, [If you didn't realise, all those excerpts are things i've written in the past] but if anything, my thoughts towards myself have only gotten worse. 


To make a change, I have to commit to it. I have to really, truly want it.
....I guess i'm stuck, then.
Fuuuuun times. Not.
Oh well. Things will either get better, stay the same, or end completely. *shrug*

Food: 1 piece of toast with peanut butter, 1/4 banana. [Ew..] A lot of ice cream [FATTY. FATTYFATTYFATTYFATTY. FATASS FAILURE]. Chicken Pot Pie [UGLY BITCH]
I was planning on eating much less than that today, but hanging out with certain friends doesn't allow that.
Injuries: None today. Legs and arm still healing.

I don't feel like being eloquent right now. Just...
Omggggggg. Stressssss.

So I said i'd go to Sandi's this morning. I haven't seen her in ages and there's gonna be other people there that I also haven't seen.
This causes me two main stresses.
1] There is going to be cake. A lot of it. Some chocolate strawberry crepe cake thing. OMGOMGOMG. NO. But she'll be all "YOU. EAT." Hopefully I can get out of it, but, sfjjfjssdjadwahdwhadhhd.
2] I don't know how People's reactions will be to me being on my silence-kick again. It makes me even more self-concious than I already am, and i'm not looking forward to the panic attack that will ensue if they attempt to force me into speech.

Also, I'm supposed to go back to school tomorrow. Isn't this what I wanted? I think so. Do I still? I don't know. It's stressing me the fuck out. I don't know whether I want to go back yet or not. Perhaps i'll tell Mom that I don't want to go back until i'm talking again. She may or may not accept that. We'll see.

I'm an idiot. I'm a fucking idiot. I decided that since my parents know about the self-harm now, that it would be okay to cut my arm. I don't have to be so paranoid about hiding it...right? WELL CRAP. I Forgot about the barn. I can't wear long gloves for riding and everyone there knows I don't wear jackets. Fuck.
Also, Hannelore doesn't know, and her parents dont like me to wear them at the dinner table.

I AM SO FUCKING STUPID. 

alsoineedtostopstressingandfreakingoutfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

As night subtley passes into morning, one day becomes another. Yet, time blurs... there is this inbetween space, where it is neither last night nor the next morning. It is that hangtime in the air while in mid-swing. The wood between the worlds.

[That was something that always stood out to me when my Dad read to me from The Chronicles of Narnia books. How in The Magicians Nephew, there was the inbetween-place, the wood between the worlds.  There was no time, no...anything. Just endless woods and clear pools of water leading off into different worlds - different times and spaces. It was the gateway to so many things that you could hardly imagine. However, you had to make sure not to get distracted, or fall asleep there, otherwise you ran the risk of falling asleep and never getting up again. The stillness of the woods was overwhelming.]

In a way, that's how the night time feels, to me. You can get lost in it, and never realise until the crack of dawn peeks hesitantly over the horizon.

Stuck in that time [or lack thereof] and that silence, I begin to think. About what? I don't know, and I won't remember later. My thoughts become too jumbled and incoherant to type out. Sometimes, I question my own sanity. Most of the time, actually.

--Fragmented pictures fade together. Smoke drifts, obscuring the images that exist only in your mind. A muffled buzzing fills your ears, but when you turn to look, there's nothing there. 
Your mind is a maze; A labrynth with endless wall and corridors of your own making.
Somewhere within lies the key to this insanity, but my nature it is unfindable. The only way to reach it is to stumble around aimlessly, no destination in mind, through the thick mist and ever changing pathways.--


Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Not even I make sense to me anymore. Isn't that alarming? You'd think that one would make sense to themself, at the very least. When you live inside your own head, you begin to see aspects of yourself that you never wanted to see, that you never thought possible. So you would think that you would know yourself well enough to not be confused or alarmed by anything you'd see there. Or, perhaps, that is WHY it is so backwards. When you live with someone on a day-to-day basis, you being to lose sight of the big picture, and the details that could really matter. Perhaps this also holds for residing within your own mind.

--I am trapped in a glass prison of my own design, with only my insanity for company. Time passes so quickly, yet so slowly, not a second seeming to change. Time is meaningless. There is no future, no present. Outside there be monsters, jagged teeth gleaming. They begin to tear apart my beloved glass prison, irisless eyes shining in the absence of light. I must keep this barrier up, les they break in and eat me alive. Slowly, I take apart another piece of my already broken mind and use my blood to glue it to the wall of the shattered, splintered glass, fixing the hole, safe for another day. This cage is my prison and my safehouse, my pain and my protection. Scattered on the floor all around me lie the bloody, sharp-edged pieces of my mind. --


It is nights like this, that I long for the innocence that I lost, somewhere along the way. Somewhere between then and now and there and here, it was lost. Dropped along the roadside like an abandoned penny. Perhaps it was picked up by another, to be stuffed into a container, saved somewhere for a rainy day. Or perhaps it was pulled down water-filled crevices by the rain, and swept down into a drain, never again to see the light of day. 


--We were so young, back then. We ran like the wind, closed our eyes, and flew. We crashed into the dirt, laughed, cried, and got up to try again. We thought that things would never change, that everything would stay the same forever. We thought life was made up of swings and slides, of bicycles on sunny days, of fruit stolen from the neighbor's garden. We were so naive back then, so innocent. We thought life was a picture, but we were so wrong. It's not a moment that's frozen in time.
Eventually, we went our seperate ways. Our hands were pried apart by the realities of the world. Slowly we parted, like drifwood on the ocean tide. Sometimes I wonder who you'd be today. What would have happened, had things been different. Why did you pick the road you did? Perhaps you just grew up too fast. Hell, maybe I did too.
We thought those days would last forever. That we'd always be together. I thought that you would never leave. We were so innocent, back then. Sometimes, I wish even a trace of that innocence had remained. However, some things, once lost, are never returned. Some things, you never get back. Do you have regrets? Do you wish you had chosen differently? Do you ever long for the things you sacrificed?
We thought those days would last forever. But unfortunatly, things do change, don't they? I suppose you learned that the hard way.
I'll be seeing you.--

What happened?
How did we get here?
Did we change paths,
or were we on the same path all along?
Did something happen to set this in motion?
Is this planned?
Is it fate?
Is it choice?
Is it a mistake? 


These questions are all hypothetical, of course. 
I know exactly how I ended up this way. I know exactly what led me here. It's all my decision - it has been all along. I chose this. This is mine. It is my past, my present, and most likely my future. I knew full well the consequences of my actions. And yet, I did them anyways. 
This is why I argue when people say that it isn't my fault, that I don't deserve this. Because I chose it. I knew where this path would lead, yet I chopped down bushes and trees to get to this broken, jagged path.


A life without trust. That, I never wanted. I always thought i'd be able to trust Brother. But, no. He has broken it, and in doing so, me. Now all I have is Hastings and Ari. And they've both hurt me before... but I can't. I can't survive on my own, I can't. CAN'T. can'tcan'tcan'tcan'tcan'tcan'tcan'tcan'tcan't. That's a word I use a lot. Can't. Can not. Cannot. CANT. Ne peuvent pas.

It seems everybody is having troubles, these days. 
Cane has started destroying herself again, and nobody has noticed.
Pratchett clawed his arm up for the first time yesterday.
Hastings feels like he's lost touch with everything that was important to him.
I haven't heard from Morning. I'm worried she's dead.
Hannelore is trying to keep everything together.
Batgirl won't tell me what's wrong.
Mother is upset, frightened, hurt, and worried.
Ari says that everything is falling apart.


And me? I'm just going....going...
....no. Not yet. No. I refuse. I'm here. I am here and I am fine.
F. I. N. E.
u  n  e  m
c  s  u   o
k  e  r   t
e  c  o   i
d  u  t   o
u  r  i   n
p  e  c  a
            l


IAMFINEWILLYOUPEOPLESTOPWORRYINGOVERMESERIOUSLYIMFUCKINGFINELEAVEMEALONELETMESTAYINMYLITTLEWORLDI'MSAFEHERECAN'TYOUSEEJUSTFUCKINGLEAVEMEALONEANDLETMEDEALWITHSHITMYOWNWAY.
YOU CAN'T JUST SHOVE POINTY NEEDLES IN MY EYES AND ASK ME WHAT I SEE!

I have to go back to school again on Wednesday. I'm not sure whether I want to, or not. The idea is scary...particularly when i'm being The-De-Barked-One, again. And with everyone wanting to offer sympathy about Father... it's not a welcoming thought. But also, I'm getting quite sick of lazing around all day, and perhaps the routine will set some structure into my life again.
[Either that or it will make everything grey, again]

Either way, i'm in for a helluva fight.

--How do you live when your mind has become the enemy?
(Can one truly fight themself?)
Where do you go when the world has turned it's back on you?
(Or did you turn your back on the world?)
What do you do when there's nowhere left to turn?
(Do you remain inside yourself?)--

Food: Blech. I binged all weekend. Today i've had a bowl of my mom's apple crisp, 1/4 egg roll, and a glass of pink lemonade, EDIT: and a taco from TacoTime, all at other's request.  [Fuck, why do I always have to do what others ask?]
Injuries: None today. 56 on my arm from yesterday, though. And plenty of half-healed ones on my legs. EDIT: 15 on my arm, light.

An Introduction

Well, I suppose I should introduce myself.
Hello.
I am...
I think.
I think I am.
I am, I think?
Hmm...

Welcome to the mad ramblings of a wolf cat spider. I pity the poor fool that has stumbled upon my crappy whining.

Proceed with caution. Here be monsters.
[or, at least, a lot of blood]

Have fun.