Lonely Scribbled down on Friday, 23 September 2005 18:48:02 PM
Dearest diary, I had the pc shutdown before I saw it would be better to blog since I will be only boring myself being in the bedroom till tomorrow. When I'm lying down, it's hard to get me out of the blanketts. I go totally mute. I usually don't talk or answer anything that is being asked or told. I don't respond though I sometimes have understood or heard you loud and clear. Other times it's just noise to my ears. Lots is noise to me now that I'm having so much physical issues. I feel disturbed. I wonder why I am not going to the doctor for them? Do you wonder as well? How can you? I'm being a bit sarcastic. Sure the doctor will find out what I have but then he'll be just prescribing me more medication. That's the thing he was good at, giving pills randomly, like he knew what you had before you even entering his office. I don't like my doctor... how nice he even was. He never listened to me. If I go there again, then it was to say that I want a complete checkout to know either I have cancer or any other mysterious illness which has and is making me feel incredibly miserable. I am. I feel horrible everyday and especially during my monthly's. It's not normal, is it? How can it be normal if you're monthly sick and I'm not saying just 'sick' as when I'd tell my gym teacher at school and he'd laugh me in the face, telling me I need to excercise more so all the pain complaint will be over. No. It's not like I haven't ever done anything to feel better in my skin. I have but without much progress. I was told the pill would help me feel better, I don't see much of it. Except that instead of a couple days of pain, it has moderated to one. Still a day consists of 24 hours and if I have to endure all these hours in pain, I'd want to kill myself. And I do. I want to die also because of all the uncomfortness I felt living in this body brought me. I felt no matter how many visits I brought to a doctor or my mum kept forcing me to drink her hand made wonder tea's or whatever she had me fixed, I was continuing feeling the same usual me. A very sick, tired girl. A girl simply tired of trying and failing into being a healthy normal girl. Or perhaps my mood disorders are causing some body parts to ache. I really don't know. If I had to be honest about the amount moments of happiness I've had, they wouldn't be much. Compressed in years, probably not even a complete year. I'm not counting memories I don't remember. What you don't remember is as if they have never existed. They are nothing. Just nothing. I hope death will put an end to my silent sufferings. No one knew I suffered. So there. If I was silent when lying down in bed, it was also because I was trying to control the pain. I tried hard my best to not let it dominate me and have me losing control. I'm happy when I manage to sleep, that way I couldn't pay attention to it. Only yesterday I couldn't close any of my two eyes. I can't really tell why. I stayed awake hours straight, rocking myself back and forth to ease the annoying throbbing sensation. Around 3 am -I can't tell with certainty- my eyes started becoming sleepy, bit by bit while it was getting time for me to wake up and go to my psychologist appointment. I don't sleep well. I really need my own space... that's all I can say. I'd do better than I do now. Even I'm not so sure of this either. Have I ever mentioned that talking to a psychologist is very boring? Oh my god, I felt bored today. I felt so indifferent. Everytime when I start dressing up, my mum does the same. She sees the chance when I'm planning to go out, for her also to come along with me to do whatever she needs to do. I can never be alone or do anything on my own. Which is bad. Now -today- I always admit to her since I'm used having her around me. If she's not there, I feel weird. Like I don't have hair on my head. Are you getting me? Thanks to her, I don't have a life. Thanks to her and my father, I am not able to function as a normal girl of my age should. I am complete trash and way behind than most girls. There were countless of things I had to know at this age and I simply didn't know or I was afraid to do. And hey, I'm not getting any smaller you know. I am growing older. Later I'd be like a big kid, instead of a young, independant adult. Or I was but I wasn't. I was considered one but you can't say if you tried looking for such qualities in me, you wouldn't find any. Before my arrival at my psych, Ms. B., we were held up by an accident that had occured. The whole street where the bus had to drive in, was filled with curious neighbours glaring at an ambulance and all the noise that comes with it. I think there was fire or something. I don't know what happened but it did scare me. Can you imagine me being taken out dead out of an appartment, while those exact same curious eyes were trying to have a quick shot of what happened, of my entire life maybe..., trying to gain the answer on the question: 'what idiot would try to poison herself and also ruin other people's carreer with it?'. Maybe a few would recognize the rests of what was once a personality. A person. Someone. A girl. A young girl. A young foreign girl. A young colored foreign girl. A young girl. If I'm lucky, their words and sentences, thoughts, judgements would not matter to me as I was not around to respond or to define each emotion. I would've succeeded into slashing the mirror into pieces. Or scratching away my name of the list. I would've succeeded into disappearing. That's all I long and strive towards these days. Nothing else. Yes, I am very saddened things are this way but there's not much I can do about it. I don't feel like it either, by just throwing a glance at the huge mess I had infront of me. It was huge. So many things I had to fix and it's not like I was losing anything by leaving this place. I thought this place was going through its final moments too. Having a body was one of the most aweful or THE aweful thing I've ever experienced in my whole life. The ability to feel pain, to think and to see that what someone is saying is hurtful or senses like the sharp edge of a knife. All these things are things I won't miss. When the bad holds hands with something bad, it only creates the worst. But if there's any positive thing behind it as self-pleasure.., then it's pleasant of course. I'm being a bit superficial now, however in such times I was feeling... great. I knew better. My psych wanted to know me better today and questioned me on my background which differs a lot from the European lifestyle. We (people from my culture) are religious, very reclusive when it comes to personal problems and dependent. And it's not like you go to Spain, you meet tons of Spaniards. You meet a lot of other people from all sides of the world abroad too (where I come from). It's like this multiculturistic place. Someone optimistic would say without doubting of the word that this little world is: colourful. I didn't like talking to her about these things as it made me come out as ... As something weird, strange. An odd creature, with very weird habits. My assignment of the day was to write many things as possible down that I wanted to do but my family didn't allow me to. I nodded after sitting ranting like a careless girl who really has nothing to loose. That's how I survive the day. Being as careless as possible. It will be hard to complete this little 'task' before next week Friday as I really don't want to do anything anymore my family doesn't want me to. I guess I will have to lie to her. At the other side I was relieved that I had stuff to do in the final days of my life. Well, there was one thing: I wanted to visit L. I couldn't tell her about that, can I? What would she be thinking of me? And L. isn't talking to me anymore as before. It should tell me that what goes around comes around. It's the same with D. who's now nothing else than a name. I think it's over. Over and out. I will keep my grief for myself and he won't ever know. (Yes, I'm hurt while I'm the one who hurt him, strange, isn't it?) D. used to like me and tried to get to me. I wasn't impressed, especially by little things he said that offended me (not to mention the cousin incident). It only made me see how reckless and immature teenagers can be. Aside of a nice sense of humor, there wasn't much he had that could have made me melt (even for us to later find out we don't fit, that happens when you finally see each other in real life: Then looks DO matter). His random talk irritated me. I -yes- loathe being ignored. I can't have people not answering questions I ask. Why would I ask them?? To know something, of course. Yesterday he emailed me back saying how I was the only one who knew a lot about him, etc. etc. (not that he wrote that much) and with honesty I shall tell: there were many things I did not know about him. I don't know when he feels suicidial or why he cuts himself (except that he liked doing it). I don't know when he's depressed or how he sometimes spends the night. When it comes to emotions I don't know anything about him. If they'd give a 'know your best friend test' where you need to answer all the emotional questions, I would fail. Hard. Because I never knew any of the things I wished to know, I never felt I could talk about my issues either. It only confirmed my decision to not do so, after I had told him I cut and having him telling me to not do it. I strongely disagree that two cutters amongst each other should or can tell each other 'don't' while the other had the same urges to 'see blood'. It didn't make sense. I never expected to hear him tell me that while we're both cutters. From there I started getting my shoes on to leave through the kitchen door. And what happened next: he continued following my traces till he saw he was not relevant as before. And the same I am seeing with L. For some weird reason -I'm sure I said something he doesn't wish to hear- I sense I'm being avoided. I feel hurt! AGAIN. It has made me see that no matter what happens, I'm really better off..

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