And how do I feel so bad when I'm around shei and tom. I can not look at tom without seeing justin. It's ruining the friendship thing going on. His hair, the way he stoops his head when he stands, his ******* nose, height, weight, laugh, awkwardness, clothes, hat, favorite bands, they're ******* clones and I can't stand it! And shei is so pretty and small, baby and all. I can't even hold a candle to her, it's worse than standing next to chelsey for gods sake. I don't even know how she's my friend, I really am so lucky sometimes. We have a lot in common, but I still don't have the balls to talk. I can not open my mouth and say hey, i have the same troubles you do. If you met me and looked over my life and you would say what's the big deal? And I hate being all that dramatic and "Oh, you never know what someone feels inside" because it's not like that. Everyone knows how I'm feeling, I'm a ******* lunatic! A stark raving lunatic that will cuss you out if you so much as say the wrong word. Death Cab can lull me into a stupor and caffiene makes me talk like I'm on speed, I am a project to befriend. But people don't know that one secret I have. I won't tell out of respect and the fact that it doesn't bother me like it should. I always had forgiven the persons involved, and you know sometimes I think maybe it IS why I get hypersexual when I'm lonely or feeling neglected. Why I feel the only way to be part of something and make friends is to flirt and make a catch out of someone. I feel so horrible after, but when it's happening, right before? It's the best choice. The only choice. People don't know the other disorder I have. On top of anxiety and bipolar, all that good ****? People don't know. And I'm still not comfortable talking about it. I blush and twist and after a few minutes I will start to cry. It consumes my life and disables me from accepting compliments. And I know that. Every once in a while I take something to heart, hey, nice haircut. Hey, you're pretty. Whatever it is. And I carry it around all day and then I get home feeling good and I look in the mirror and I can watch my face change into something ugly, something vain. And just like that, why would they lie to me? Sometimes I hate people, I spent YEARS hating people. I was nearly homicidal at some points. Oh, the things that keep us grounded. People don't know that while I am clumsy, I am also strategic. I can make anything look like an accident. Stupid little details like obviously lying for years, so everyone thinks you're a bad liar. And then all it takes is a mediocre lie to get away with murder, if you'll parden the expression. I can say I tripped over a cage, I ran into a tree, I fell in a pricker bush, I walked into a doorside, anything under the sun. I'm a head slammer, ankle slicer, hand scratcher, arm basher, self piercer. I am a bad person. It addicting behavior, but I maintain the fact that I do not have an addicting personality. I am simply that horrible that I ENJOY these behaviors, I do not want to get better. I do not make the effort. Today, I turned down two ciggarettes. I did not smoke while I fully could have. It just seemed like too much effort.
I went to steve's after yap (of which was only me, tom, shei, kyle, and fran). We played games at yap. At steve's his brother had friends over, we ate dinner and watched over the hedge and wall-e upstairs. I ate way too much popcorn and maccheese. I've had ice cream for two meals today. I'm on another ******* kick. But this one seems to be less fattening than ohhh say, frosted flakes? Rice and sourcream? TACOS? I just don't enjoy these things after the kicks end. =[ It's a bit upsetting, actually. As much as they need to be taken down. Why am I so wierd? Steve picks on me for spending money on an expensive doll. It makes me feel incredibly down. He honestly thinks I didn't put any thought into an investment like that. But I did, and I don't regret it. But I won't tell you how much she was, becuase it now incredibly embarasses me. And I don't like to tell people I just bought a doll, since I've realized the average person can't appreciate it's beauty. I'm naming her Acedia. But I'm not sure what I'll call her yet. We're trying to find clothes for her! It's difficult to find things for a slim, 15inch doll. I didn't used to be shy. My hairs grown out a bit, it looks more natural, less manicured. I like it. It's soft, and I think the vitamins are ACTUALLY WORKING a little. Now I just need to start ******* taking them again (I had given up).
Today shei was bumming on her billy for being depressed for being ignored, becuase people did not miss him, traumatically starting when he was about 9. Becuase he felt unneeded, unwanted. And I'm trying to laugh, to be included, to be enthusiastic, but if she could have seen the life drain from my eyes in embarassment that that's the point when I started being significantly and (what I thought was) justifiably depressed as well, age 10, same causes and effects, well, I may have died right there in her passenger seat. I will never confess that. How weak of me, you know?
I need to ******* shut up and take my Ambien, summer program starts tomarrow, I have YAP at 10.