| Noose... |
Today was a thoroughly off day. I went to class and didn�t learn anything new, as usual. Afterward, I went for a walk, and somehow I ended up at Schmitz Hall. This was odd to me. I really had no desire to walk inside, yet somehow my feet carried my up to the fourth floor and in through the door to the counseling center. I took a seat, and waited for the receptionist to beckon me to the desk. When she asked me why I was there, all I could tell her was that I didn�t know. I wasn�t lying though. I really didn�t know why I was there. I had no reason. I just was there and didn�t want to be. She sent me to the head counselor. I talked to this woman for a long time. She tried to help me. It was her job, she said. I don�t really know how to feel about that. All she did was take notes and keep looking at her watch. I don�t really like that I was pouring myself all over and she only could think about the future. I realized something though. People never really care what they are doing anymore. All anyone thinks about is the future, about what else they could be doing with their precious time. She asked me if I would consider taking antidepressants. I left�
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I made it home alright. I met Manny, my roommate, on the way in. I talked to him about what I did today, and at the end of it all, he asked me how I felt about it. I hadn�t really thought about that before, and I am glad he asked me. I guess I had some sort of epiphany. I didn�t like it. I don�t like spilling myself into another person. I don�t like saying everything inside me to someone that can only think about what they are going to do when I leave. I don�t like to be sincere to someone who isn�t sincere in return. I don�t like counselors. I don�t like people that make it their job to not care about people. I want passion in my friends. I want them to feel what I feel so they know what I am going through. I don�t want people to tell me to pop a pill to make it all go away. I think I like the way I am. I am definitely not happy with who I am, but I like that there is always something to fix with me. There is always something to keep me busy. I like having problems because every time I get closer to fixing one, I really feel better about myself. I may be bipolar. I may be disconnected from reality. I don�t care. Whose reality is it anyway? The only reality I need to exist in is my own. I don�t need someone to tell me what color the sky is. I see it as I see it. This reality is my own perception. This reality is what I make it. If something is wrong with it, only I have the power to fix it. Only I have the ability to fix myself. I am the only thing in my life that is always going to be there for me. I am really all I have. It isn�t much, but I think I will take what I can get�
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I don�t have much in the way of friends up here. I see glimpses of my other friends back home in the people up here. Bernardo reminds me of Baney sometimes. Manny lets me talk to him like Tato does. I don�t know. It isn�t that I am trying to recreate my friends in the people around me now, but I do see similarities sometimes�
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I told myself I was alone here. I wanted to believe that I was deserted or that I ran away or that I didn�t have anyone anymore. I know that isn�t true anymore. I still have myself. I still have me and that is good enough for now. I know everything about me. I know everything that I like and everything that I don�t. I know more that anyone else could ever know. This is a comforting thought. The more time I spend by myself, the more I learn about myself. I don�t necessarily like myself all the time, but I do like the time that I spend exploring all the little cracks behind my eyes�
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I have been sleeping more lately. I feel comfortable again. I don�t know what it is, but I am glad that it is there. I haven�t had restful sleep in a very long time, and I am glad it has returned to me. I still have nightmares, I guess. Something is different in them though. I am not scared anymore. All these demons and all these shadows, nothing makes me run away, nothing makes me cower or cry or scream. I am not afraid anymore. I am not afraid of who I am or what is inside me. I know what is there. I know what evil and what anger and what hate lies within me, just below the surface. I wish others could see it and not be afraid. I wish someone could see me for what I really am. I wish people didn�t have to lie to themselves just to be around me. I wish someone knew�
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I don�t know what it is. There seems to be some ambient courage somewhere around me. Something keeps reminding me that everything will be alright. I mute this voice somehow; drown it out because I don�t want to listen. I have a hard time believing that things will work themselves out. It is difficult for me to understand that things tend to have a reason for being. I can be so pessimistic at times. I live in such a dark world�
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And it is dark here. It is always night, always cold, always tense. There is some presence here, it pushes me and I don�t know how I can stand the pressure. Something drives me to do something, but I don�t know what it is. I don�t know what I am supposed to be doing, but I know that I am not doing it now. Something is missing. There is this hole inside of me and I need to fill it up. I just don�t know what to fill it with�
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I don�t know why I am here. I don�t know why, of all places, I chose to come here. I didn�t have a reason, I just did it. And now I am here, and I am stuck here. I don�t know how to feel about that�
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I am so angry, so driven and so sexual. All I want to do is fuck and fight and scream and yell. Only, I don�t want to do any of these things to anyone in particular. It is almost as if I only want to do them to myself. It would be nice to be able to fuck or fight myself sometimes. It would be nice if I could be two people, just to have that luxury. Then, I would only be hurting myself, and that would be fine because I don�t want to hurt anyone else�
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I am always cold. I always have been. I never get used to it. I shiver for no reason. It could be hot as hell in here, and I am still always going to be freezing. It is inexplicable. But I deal with it as best as I can. Sometimes I don�t really put up a good fight and it really gets to me, but sometimes I can ignore it. Also my head always hurts. Sometimes more that other times, but the pain is always there. It doesn�t go away. I don�t know what to do about it. I feel like it isn�t anything real, like a pill won�t make it go away. In fact, I know it won�t make it go away. It is part of my torment that I will suffer until I figure my shit out�
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Dear Diary,
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If I could have one wish, I would wish that today will be a better day.
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Please, let today be my day�