8:42 p.m. - 2005-12-12
Walls. Walls. Walls.
I just spent half an hour looking for a song my dad had heard me listening to that he swore said "ring ring" and something about a telephone. When I finally figured out he meant "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer, I thought I was going to fall over laughing. And that's saying something given my three weeks of complete, depressive hell. In any case, I found it noteworthy.
I would do anything for my family. Anything. There are some people that life is just not a question when it comes to their safety and happiness. A while ago I would have said that I can't really tell the difference between my friends and family on this respect, but I don't know. I would still drop everything if any of them needed me. In a second. I'd call into work and I would try to make it better, but I feel like if I don't put up these walls around myself, then I'll take it out on them and hurt them and they won't understand, while if I do that with my family, they just retaliate until we can all break down and feel awful together and then pick ourselves back up. I wouldn't say I want to save them. I'm not quite that conceited to think I make that much of an impact and I'm much more selfish. I'm much more selfish because I do want to curl up inside of myself and work through it alone despite who would be willing to help, who could help, who is worried. I don't know how to not be selfish though. People think I'm mad at them a lot now and they say I'm supposed to be happy because this is my time of the year. Really. It is. I swore I used to carry Christmas spirit in my pocket and hand it out to everyone I saw, but not quite this year.
"what's wrong? People are worried about you."
How do I explain that explaining would just make me ten million times worse?
We're all a little fake inside and we're all a lot fake on the outside, I just happen to paint my mask with a tint of hypocrisy.
"The mask I polish in the evening, by the morning looks like shit."
I was supposed to be born on Christmas Eve. I was going to be named Holly. I don't look like a Holly. I miss being able to shake off the bad, but it feels like being kicked while I'm down. This all makes me feel incredibly selfish.
I'm supposed to be the one telling people to stop giving any of this the time of day. Stop writing about it. Stop taking pictures of car crashes. And start living. Start to make it better. Start something.
It's hard to start anything with my eyes closed. I sleep a lot now. Not just because I have new sleeping pills, though that helps, but I just come home, finish homework, and sleep. I just..spend a lot of time inside my head, which is stupid, but I just don't feel like getting up. And no one is making me. So, what the hell? why not? Really now.
In Narnia, there was this perfect scene when Lucy stepped out of the wardrobe and into the snow and it was just so...perfect. She was so amazed to the point that she wasn't cold and snowflakes landed on her eyelashes and she just blinked a lot instinctively and it was perfect. I love snow on eyelashes. Perfect.
I want a secret world to sink myself into. Narnia, Harry Potter, The Golden Compass, anywhere. I've never wanted to go to boarding school more then now. It sounds ridiculous, but I don't feel like I belong here anymore.
Justin told me not to "fade away". The reason being I told him the same thing. He had a good reason. He found out he was moving and was sad. My excuse is just...well, an excuse.
There's that saying that when you reach the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on. The sad thing is, I have no upper body strength and my hands are slipping and I've been dangling here for a long time - not quite there or here, not quite stable or falling, not quite anything really besides constant and predictable and simply hanging.
A slow decline in the reversal of evolution where the butterfly transforms back into a caterpillar before ever attempting to fly. In other words, a failure.
I promised Janine that if I wasn't happy on my birthday, I'd at least pretend for her sake. Shall I keep my fingers crossed? yes, I shall. Why? There's still that little speck of hope that God never gives us more then we can handle and I simply have no choice but to survive this.
How about some coffee with a friend?
danielle, shut the fuck up. Leave and take your fucking heart with you.
