vomit out of my throat
what a lovely thing it was. the june sunset winked at me knowingly. a dream like this can't last, you know. that is what she told me.
have i really been this stagnant and listless the whole time, or has time stopped completely?
this might be one of my longest entries yet, i want to get it all out so i can relax during the holidays. these past few weeks have been absolutely kicking me in the ass... so naturally i've been writing a lot. it's all about the same thing too—him. always him. both my doctor, my counselor, my mom told me to redirect that energy into thinking about more important things, like school, myself and my mental health. one of them told me that i can use this as a learning opportunity for a future partner! so here it goes. future husband, future wife, future whoever, here's a few things you need to know about me:
i hope my near-constant need for attention, validation, and reassurance doesn't drive you mad. i'm really not a selfish girl and i'm not asking for much... at least two "i still love you"s daily? and maybe an extra "i'll never leave you" too. but sometimes i'll have episodes so you gotta say it at least 100 times. that isn't a joke. ask my ex about it. but even then, that will never make me feel any less empty inside. godspeed to you, soldier.
but buttering me up too much is no good, too! if you love me too much i'll feel suffocated and forced to reckon with the fact that i am in fact romantically and sexually desirable to some and while on certain days that feeling would fulfil me maybe i do feel quite disgusting for having desire and no matter what the possibility of being the object of another's affections fills me with shame and repugnance. also, when we break up, i may try to kill myself impulsively again. and if i fail, be prepared for a ton of distasteful jokes TONS! don't invite me over for dinner with your family.
but but! i'll never, ever tell you when i need it! i hope you have fun trying to figure me out. doesn't that sound exciting! that's why i can't go out with anybody stupid.
if you can’t communicate effectively and i’m the only emotionally mature one i may explode. if you show any sign of liking anyone more than me i may explode. i am prone to exploding. dating me is like sauntering in an open mine field. i'll explode.
but but but! if you are struggling mentally as well i may feel the compulsive pseudo altruistic desire to take matters into my own hands and become sort of your girlfriend-therapist or more or less your own personal little pagliacci due to the deep-seated feelings of guilt and the uncontrollable urge to "make things better" or "minimize the hurt" or "give you all that i can" i have within me which i think was caused by my parent's divorce???
anyways, once again, i drank two diet cokes and i'm sitting on my bed in the middle of the night doing absolute fuck all! things, you see, they get better then they get worse then better then worse then better again. it's really, really difficult now—trying to be normal and smile widely while feeling so out of control of yourself. that's something he told me during our argument the other week ago. something about "feeling like a puppet on strings," that makes both of us. could you tell your puppet master or whatever to treat me kindly? or is that beyond your control as well you little shit!!!!
there we go! there we go! i did it again! stop! out out out out!!! out with you!!!
um, speaking of silly, god has really been testing me a ton as of late. at least during my break in november, even after all that transpired, there was a dreamlike tranquility. pancakes in the morning, watching columbo in my pajamas, and not having to worry about tomorrow since i had the most concrete evidence known to man that they still loved me. like the calm after a storm. i've been having awful thoughts. should i do it again? or, at the very least, do something crazy? "doing something crazy"... that's a phrase i use often. i guess that's how i'm justifying my bad behaviour. i'm not a bad girl, i just do bad things. serial killers aren't serial killers until they start, you know, serial killing, i suppose? not like i'm gonna start killing people or something like that...
in other news, there is this kid in my history class that just won't leave me alone. i see god is testing me by sending all the weirdos my way this time. he knows i'm too nice of a person so he's punishing me for it. punishing me for being such a pushover, for just wanting others to like me. it's really pathetic. anyways, lately, while i am his VICTIM for the next hour or so, i've been doing something i've been calling "american psycho-ing" in my head. it began as reading the brent easton ellis book and rereading the part where bateman stabs the homeless guy and kills his dog and pretending to stifle laughter hoping to scare him off. it does not in fact scare him off. i'm not your manic pixie dream girl or whatever!!! i'm such a fucking handful!!! you do not want me!!! you do not want me!!!
just now, i closed my eyes for a second and focused on little sounds in the house. sometimes i get hypagogic hallucinations (they're common so it's nothing to worry about) where i hear voices before i fall asleep. usually it's a friends voice, with the same amount of understandability as trying to listen through a wall. just then, it was like hearing a little girl's voice through an old radio. i couldn't quite make out what she said, but i think it must've been "go ahead"? what the hell does that mean?