Rant

I'm going to go on a little rant about my life now. But isn't that the point of a blog? Being able to rant about yourself. So anyway.....

The most annoying thing ever is when I really feel the need to post and get my feeling and emotions out of my own head, my internet is down and I can't get into my blog. It sucks like a vacuum. Honestly, I find about 2 in the morning when I need to post the most (hehe I rhyme). That's the hour when I'm so tired I start driving myself crazy and pushing myself over the edge and posting is a way to clear all that up, so I can move on and finish writing whatever dumb paper my last teacher assigned at the last minute.

Speaking of pushing myself over the egde. I've come to the solid conclusion that I'm manic depressive and the realization has brought a sort of peace to my life. Well that and other things. I'm going to see a school counselor tonight of my own accord. Almost like a test, to see if I want to find a personal therapist who I will have to pay for. So I'll try to let you know how that goes.

So this weekend, or rather Monday, was a nightmare ( a female horse at night? I don't understand the evolution of that word). Anyway, I have these little breakdowns sometimes and I've have two big breakdowns before, but not recently and I've been recovering. Anyway, often I can feel them a few days a head of time. I know that sounds odd, but I just feel them, like all my emotions were filling me up and trying to find a way out of my head and heart (that sounds cheesy, but accurate). Writing sometimes isn't enough to express everything I feel, so I have these little breakdowns. I think this one was different in that I realized that I was going to have one and realized the necessity of it, and that afterwards I would feel better. Which I do. I think I pushed myself into this breakdown, just to get it over with and more into the calm state that follows the storm. I also talked it through with a lot of different people, during and after, so that was really different. I believe it really helped and that's why I'm going to see the counselor.

So I'll tell what actually happened, not just my refelctions on it. It might sound really trivial, but when its internalized and you're actually the one feeling it, it seems like the biggest thing ever and you can't move around it. I think that's why coming to the conclusion that I'm manic depressive is so important, because it helps me realize that its not just me. There are other people and either genetic or hormonal factors. So anyway, the events.

I had a gossip session with Larke and Ellen, while Stephi was away for the weekend at a Bar Mitzva. I also saw "Finding Neverland" its amazing go see it. Anyway, so we talked about like everyone in the dramatic writing department and all the "scandels" that were going on. I also learned that my little intrigue with Chris, wasn't such a secret and everyone was talking about it. Oh, well. Better that I know now. So I was talking with Chris on AIM and telling him what a good writer he is and such, but also saying how crazy he is driving me, because I can't read him at all, nothing, not a bit and that I'm usually pretty good at reading people. Then he thought my irriatation had to do with the fact that we've had sex and then I was upset, because it doesn't. Anyway, so the conversation stopped, then restarted an hour or so later with me asking about his ex girlfriend who he still has a picture of on his desk, even though he broke up with her and they live in different states. I think deep down he's scared of the city and is really a small town boy. Having grown up in the only other big city in America that matters, this one doesn't phase me at all. In fact I'm more comfortable here then the other one. Well, to the point. I keep asking about her and how he felt about her and all that stuff that drives girlfriends nuts if their boyfriends are talking about ex's. Not that Chris and I are by any mean "together". Oh god, no! So all in all, to make a tedious story short, I asked if you loved her, than amended that and asked if he loves her. He said yes. Then I ranted about being careful with that emotion and how you can get hurt. Then he said he doesn't want to be lectured and that I'm not the only person who has ever been hurt and so on... I stopped talking to him and just lay in my bed for about an hour, then got up and went into my closet with my scissors and started cutting my wrist. I've tried it before as a way to commit suicide, but that's a bad way to go. Don't try it. I did it because I just wanted to feel something. I had been lying in my bed and I didn't feel anything, nothing at all. I only know that I was in bed for an hour, because I happened to notice the clock before and after, but I don't remember time passing or anything. I just felt nothingness and existed in nothingness. So I cut my wrist in order to feel. It worked. Then I went and saw Chris, because he just lives down stairs and we apolegized to each other and are fine now. I think, well we are on my end. So, I've been feeling since I cut my wrist, because the little cuts hurt a lot and I can't wear my watch and I have to wear long sleeves in front of people and then they rub on the cuts and hurt. So the moral, don't cut your wrist, actually don't cut yourself in general, it hurts for longer then you want. Go find someone to talk to. It really helps. I promise.

When I returned to a calm state - I've actually been using the word "placid" to describe it - I was AIMing Chris and retelling a ubermini version of my experience and he said something that really stuck in my mind. He said "you have your own little tragedies, dont you". Exactly like that. The best response I could come up with was "i wouldn't call them tragedies. that's so melodramatic". What kind of a response it that? Anyway, I've said a lot today, I'll let you digest that for a while. I need to sleep.