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|h2oforduo (profile) wrote, |
on 5-5-2007 at 9:39pm
|Current mood: apathetic
Subject: Holy shit and stuff
|Wow, I'm actually posting here. It's a friggen miracle. I have no idea what the whole save the turtles thing is about, to be frank. but here I am, once again, a much different persan than I used to be.
My life was ripped apart when I realized Jon (Then my boyfriend of over a year and a half) was a total dipshit who had no notice of my emotions and never could. That hurt. So I broke up with him. We tried to stay friends but it didn't work. Mandi and I have drifted, she goes to college now, I'm not in school anymore. That's right. I dropped out. Because of depression and hallucinations. I went to a hospital day treatment program for a while but I hated it, so I stopped going. I kept having panic attacks and chest contractions and shit, and even though I take two or three adavan regularly the nurse would only give me one for my excruciating chest contractions. If you've never had one, it feels like a heartattack.
I hope someone sees this and reads it. I wonder if my dearest Nee will. Coment if you read this please. It would be nice to see someone happy to see me.
I've fallen into a state of depression. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to smile. I feel like fuckin' shit ALL THE TIME. I hate it. I don't think my meds are working right because I have breif moments of Mania as well, which always sucks.
I've been having urges to cut myself, but have resorted to other measures to cause myself pain; methods that don't leave permanent marks or become addictive. I only do this when I'm seriously freaking out, mind you, but it's deeply disturbing for me, because I always thought I'd never cut or hurt myself. Those were happier times, to say the least. I thought I was depressed then...but I really had no idea what depression was like. Tell me what an awful person I am or whatever, tell me I shouldn't, tell me your stories of how awful SI is. I don't really want to hear it though. I already know. I have numerous friends who cut or used to. I know it's bad. I know it's addictive. I know all that shit. I know about scars, and wanting to hide them. Mandi walks around in short sleeve or sleveless tops all the time, showing her scars to the world. It makes me proud of her. Proud of her courage, and proud that she stopped.
I miss seeing my friends. I miss having a life.
I've joined a band, finally, as the lead singer and sometimes bassist/floutist. Everyone in the band is great, and hott too, which is torturous, because everyone knows you can't date someone in your BAND. It's just not allowed. It fucks things up.
God, I need a boyfriend. Or someone. Anyone to love me and hold me and kiss me and tell me things will be alright.