05/13/10, 11.23a // paperblog 02,

trigger warnings required,
🌀 trigger warning: eating disorders, suicide,🌀

March 31

“We all breathe the same air, feel the same emotions.” – [Some] girl in my humanities class

Alright, tell me what’s wrong with [that] statement? Technically speaking, we don’t all breathe the same air, but if I seriously say that, I’m being [st*pid]. But we don’t, period. “We” don’t feel the same emotions; I’m betting no one in this room has felt what I’ve felt in the sense of loss of identity. What gender am I? (Neither, both; there’s more than two genders). That’s the thought that first comes to me. Anyone can become depressed – anyone can say that they’re depressed when they’re really not. I think I can tell if people are lying about that or not, but then again, sometimes I can just tell things about people, but not always.
Sometimes I’m right or close but a lot of the time I’m wrong.

– Okay.. I don’t know what kind of state my mind was in when I wrote this, but it was obviously far, far away. And that second-to-last sentence is terrible. I’m ashamed of myself.

April 20

I’ve been sick for a few days now. I didn’t go to school last Wednesday or [to] the Muse concert. Then from Friday to today I’ve got a ‘cold’. But I went to Music this morning and I’m in gay class [Gay and Lesbian Lit.] now. :(
My camera arrived yesterday and it’s excellent. It’s sitting inches away from me now…I want to start using it more.
I weighed myself last week. The electronic one read: XXXlbs and the other was around that area. FUCK!! My weight is supposed to be going DOWN not up! I need to start using my jump-rope every day, maybe two times a day at least. All I eat is Special K cereal and drink Diet Coke. If I slip and binge then I immediately purge all I can. I’m sick of being so fat! I’m not ‘happy’ with the way my body is, I don’t care if I’m not in the “normal” weight range for my height. That doesn’t matter to me, fuck. I’m going to walk home. Hopefully that’ll do something.

I’m very happy with my camera if I haven’t already said so.

– Cr*zy! I don’t recognize that cr*zy person.

May 4

I know that I’m good at nothing but wasting time, money, and resources. I watched a film called 2 Days w/Paul Rudd; the main character decides to kill himself and document it on film. He tried to do it by sitting in the car, you know, a hose from the tail pipe to the window and start the engine. He, at the “last minute” backed out and opened the car door and gets to the hospital. The film ends on a note of “hope” and even though I love Paul Rudd, I wanted [his] character to succeed. Despite that disappointment, it gave me an idea. I can use a hose and do the same thing in the car in the garage. It’s so fucking tempting. I don’t know if I’d wake anyone up when I start the engine – I hope not. That’ll be my next attempt – but I’ll wait until after Friday (when I see Dr. W) so I can talk about it first. Unless things get worse before then.

I know I have no future. I’ve known that for a long time. I’ve never been one to fuss over my grades but I’ve been put on academic probation 1 and if I don’t get As or Bs in all of my classes this semester, I guess I won’t be allowed to go to college anymore? College, anyway.

In art class, my art isn’t up to par w/the teacher’s expectations (she wants everything to be professional). Last class I got bad-mouthed in front of the whole class bc my projects didn’t exactly match and weren’t matted to a board (they were made of regular printer paper and I used clear tape as a try at laminating them).

The thought that “it’s not worth it” keeps popping up. My mother makes me eat, I can’t lose weight, I’m on medication that “helps” by numbing all feelings instead of just depression, that medication makes me tired so in the morning (after taking Klonopin and Risperdal before bed) I take medication that’s intended for people with ADHD to wake me up. I think I’m going to stop taking all my medication and instead of storing it, I’ll just throw them away. I can’t take this shit anymore.

– I feel like I should apologize for this one. So, I’m really sorry about this one. I don’t know what was happening or where I was or any of that. And I hate all the grammatical errors. ;) I haven’t stopped taking my meds, I know better than that. And I’m not going to attempt anything. Pinky promise.

May 12
“It’s only called ‘transgender’ if the person has had a sex-change. [They’d/That’d] be a transvestite.” – Alisha (or “[Some] girl in my humanities class”), TAF.

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!

(We watched a DVD of poets reciting their poems in little music video like takes called The United States of Poetry and the idiot class’ responses weren’t surprising.)

“She needs to be on some meds or something.”
“She’s bipolar.”

“Emotion Idiot” – Maggie Estep

“Is that poetry?!”
“He looks like a sick psycho person askin’ [someone] to drip candle wax on his nipples!”
“You’d find someone like him in Berkley.”

“My Lover” – John S. Hall

I personally liked both of them. :)

mood: exhausted,
currently playing: “Boombox (feat. Julian Casablancas)” – The Lonely Island

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