Current Music: Muse - Unintended
It seems that, whenever I feel at my worst and I just want to curl up in my bed and ignore life (sometimes, like today, while I am in the process of doing just that), Jaime calls me. Of course, being in that state means I really don't want to be cheered up and I tend to ignore the call until I can actually talk to her like a normal human being without sobbing like I really really want to. I've been having weird dreams lately. Not nightmares, thank god, but dreams that make me contemplate what I want from anything. Why am I bothering with the things I do. Is anything really worth me spending any attention on? I don't particularly dislike these dreams, I just don't like them like I do my dreams of the Other Place. I write about here as the Other Place sometimes in those dreams. I wish, sometimes that was real. Other times I wish this was real. Confusion. Wonder. You know how it is.
I kinda am in a state of stressed the fuck out. I just don't want to have to talk to people but I need to get some of my thoughts out of my head and out there. But, of course, saying or writing what I really think means confrontation which means more stress which means more writing and more yelling and more of me alone and crying alone and wishing that my head and my thoughts weren't like this. Like if I don't get things out I am going to explode into so many pieces. But, everyone seems to just want to pick apart at whatever is sorta kinda about them and hate me for it. Because, my thoughts aren't important unless they offend you.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Still sitting pretty
Current Music: Cosmic Dare (Pretty with a Pistol) - Yoko Kanno|Seatbelts
boring blah and merde day. Gardened for a while, loosened the impacted roots of two of our ferns and mixed some fertilizer and vermiculite in the soils. Took Tweaky outside while I was working and that little bastard just sat on the trees and screamed at me for attention. That bird will drive me insane.
Week two of classes is done. I've managed to keep up with all my work no problem and in February I get to add in my Java programming class. Finally, I get to take a full schedule.
My little sister? Oh dear Jesus is she stupid. I don't know why anyone bothers to tell her anything. Warning her is so stupid because she only seems to want to rebel to any and everything. It's so. . . Typical. I guess I expected that someone related to me would be able to avoid mistakes like that, rather than having to learn them firsthand.
I'm starting to actually feel content with my literary activity. I have a nice assortment of books I'm reading, want to read and have on my shelf to read. I don't think I've left a genre untouched. Of course, I say anything and there are people I know who have so many books and will, it seems, try to make me feel infantile about my interests. I can't win everything, I suppose.
I'm still kinda out of a job. I figure after I do this court thing I can apply for the school bookstore. It would be insanely convenient to be working in the same building as the newsroom.
I'm starting to develop a loathing to AIM. It's. . . Well, it's hard to establish sarcasm over that mode of conversation. I had a weird dream where I told Scott off for the. . . Way he handled things. Well, thing. I was strangely gratifying and sad at the same time. I don't get over things like that easily. Mostly because I tend to invest a lot of emotion into the people I know. Awful, bad idea yet something I still do.
Musically, I've been way too boring. NIN and old cowboy bebop albums. Nothing new or interesting. It almost evens out with all the new authors I've been reading but not quite.
Routine, routines. I need to get into more routines to get myself out of this rut. Illogical but true.
whatever and ever, Amen,
Krista
boring blah and merde day. Gardened for a while, loosened the impacted roots of two of our ferns and mixed some fertilizer and vermiculite in the soils. Took Tweaky outside while I was working and that little bastard just sat on the trees and screamed at me for attention. That bird will drive me insane.
Week two of classes is done. I've managed to keep up with all my work no problem and in February I get to add in my Java programming class. Finally, I get to take a full schedule.
My little sister? Oh dear Jesus is she stupid. I don't know why anyone bothers to tell her anything. Warning her is so stupid because she only seems to want to rebel to any and everything. It's so. . . Typical. I guess I expected that someone related to me would be able to avoid mistakes like that, rather than having to learn them firsthand.
I'm starting to actually feel content with my literary activity. I have a nice assortment of books I'm reading, want to read and have on my shelf to read. I don't think I've left a genre untouched. Of course, I say anything and there are people I know who have so many books and will, it seems, try to make me feel infantile about my interests. I can't win everything, I suppose.
I'm still kinda out of a job. I figure after I do this court thing I can apply for the school bookstore. It would be insanely convenient to be working in the same building as the newsroom.
I'm starting to develop a loathing to AIM. It's. . . Well, it's hard to establish sarcasm over that mode of conversation. I had a weird dream where I told Scott off for the. . . Way he handled things. Well, thing. I was strangely gratifying and sad at the same time. I don't get over things like that easily. Mostly because I tend to invest a lot of emotion into the people I know. Awful, bad idea yet something I still do.
Musically, I've been way too boring. NIN and old cowboy bebop albums. Nothing new or interesting. It almost evens out with all the new authors I've been reading but not quite.
Routine, routines. I need to get into more routines to get myself out of this rut. Illogical but true.
whatever and ever, Amen,
Krista
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Oops
Current Music: Somewhat Damaged - Nine Inch Heels. . Er, Nails.
Didn't wake up till 6 O'clock. . . This evening. Crazy amounts of apathy today, which isn't surprising considering how my mood has been all over the fucking place. Kinda wondering when it would hit I-don't-fucking-care. At least now I don't have to worry about that happening while I'm at school. Bill gets all worriedtastic when I get "sad" which is actually kinda weird for a teacher to do. Whatever.
SO, Omer is kinda guessing I don't want to play in the WoD anymore because of Scott. He would be about. . . neee, 83% right. Avoiding problems is something of a specialty of mine. Akim made a picture post of his friends on LJ. I think this is actually the first time he included me as a friend. Little bits of flattered. Someone outside it blowing up firecrackers and I am about to go postal on some Chinese New Year ass. Any excuse really, for unnecessary violence. People, by now, should know not to annoy me.
So, the argument over Sean; good guy or slimeball continue. I think, at this point, I'm the only one on the good guy side. Sure, sure, anyone can assume the worst and be well rewarded for it, but I try, pretty god damned hard at that, to forgive people, to grant the benefit of a doubt. I like to assume people can be good which is why I tend to get the worst of people after me like a haunting. It's probably stupid of me to always think people will try not to hurt me and I know the people who are closest to me would advise me not to. Though, I have to admit, I would talk to half the people I know anymore if I didn't forgive them more than they would have wanted me to forgive someone else.
Perspective is a funny thing.
Didn't wake up till 6 O'clock. . . This evening. Crazy amounts of apathy today, which isn't surprising considering how my mood has been all over the fucking place. Kinda wondering when it would hit I-don't-fucking-care. At least now I don't have to worry about that happening while I'm at school. Bill gets all worriedtastic when I get "sad" which is actually kinda weird for a teacher to do. Whatever.
SO, Omer is kinda guessing I don't want to play in the WoD anymore because of Scott. He would be about. . . neee, 83% right. Avoiding problems is something of a specialty of mine. Akim made a picture post of his friends on LJ. I think this is actually the first time he included me as a friend. Little bits of flattered. Someone outside it blowing up firecrackers and I am about to go postal on some Chinese New Year ass. Any excuse really, for unnecessary violence. People, by now, should know not to annoy me.
So, the argument over Sean; good guy or slimeball continue. I think, at this point, I'm the only one on the good guy side. Sure, sure, anyone can assume the worst and be well rewarded for it, but I try, pretty god damned hard at that, to forgive people, to grant the benefit of a doubt. I like to assume people can be good which is why I tend to get the worst of people after me like a haunting. It's probably stupid of me to always think people will try not to hurt me and I know the people who are closest to me would advise me not to. Though, I have to admit, I would talk to half the people I know anymore if I didn't forgive them more than they would have wanted me to forgive someone else.
Perspective is a funny thing.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Confirm Nothing
Current Music: Alles Sehen - Ellen Allien
Tweaked the date and time for this to be Thursday because it is two AM on Friday morning and it just doesn't feel like it should be Friday yet. So bloody hell with that.
I am so not in the mood to be doing anything with my life right now. I'm just moving through and making the motions. I don't want to laugh or talk or smile and I keep doing these things now because if I don't then it will be obvious I don't want to. I don't want to see anyone. Hell, seeing anyone is giving me a feeling of inadequacy. I feel awful as soon as I get to school. I spend my entire morning telling myself, making myself believe that things will get better and each morning I start to believe myself until I am reminded that no one at that damn school really cares about me in more than a short passing manner. No one seems concerned with me. Not that, you know, they ever did unless it was something that would make for interesting drama or that would lead to me moving out. Even the concern for my living arrangements was so someone could have free reign of a place outside the view of their parents. Honestly, if I did have my own place, I would want anyone having sex in it, drinking or getting high., Respect. It's a funny thing.
Or, maybe I'm just being a prude. I really wouldn't know, would I? Whatever. I'm just sick of feeling useless and unwanted.
Tweaked the date and time for this to be Thursday because it is two AM on Friday morning and it just doesn't feel like it should be Friday yet. So bloody hell with that.
I am so not in the mood to be doing anything with my life right now. I'm just moving through and making the motions. I don't want to laugh or talk or smile and I keep doing these things now because if I don't then it will be obvious I don't want to. I don't want to see anyone. Hell, seeing anyone is giving me a feeling of inadequacy. I feel awful as soon as I get to school. I spend my entire morning telling myself, making myself believe that things will get better and each morning I start to believe myself until I am reminded that no one at that damn school really cares about me in more than a short passing manner. No one seems concerned with me. Not that, you know, they ever did unless it was something that would make for interesting drama or that would lead to me moving out. Even the concern for my living arrangements was so someone could have free reign of a place outside the view of their parents. Honestly, if I did have my own place, I would want anyone having sex in it, drinking or getting high., Respect. It's a funny thing.
Or, maybe I'm just being a prude. I really wouldn't know, would I? Whatever. I'm just sick of feeling useless and unwanted.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Triage Time
Current Music: Pretty Pink Ribbon - Cake
Finished paste-up night down at the paper. Always sorta fun. Sean, of all people, offered me a ride home. That was. . . Unexpected to say the least. Before we left Anna pulled me aside to make sure he didn't work his "manly charms" on me. Because, everyone knows a depressed rebound girl is hot. Poor guy, it seems so much like he just wants people on the paper to accept him.
Bill was being really weird about the making fun of Jessica thing. He defends he a lot, which is kinda weird. Whatever though. I don't particularly care for Jessica but bashing on her isn't a required part of my day. Just heavily recommended.
Wrote a pretty good column for the paper on the last minute. I'm not too ashamed of it. I'm keeping myself a serial column called Ferreting Around. Has a nice little picture of me on top and everything. I kinda ranted about how much I hate my age group in this one. I'm just an angry person, I suppose.
I'm wearing my hobo gloves right now, which are awesome and warm. But, I'm not cold and it's kinda hard to type wearing them. Better. Seriously, those things impair fine motor movement worse than some types of codeine/aspirin I've been on.
My week has not picked up at all. You think after so much utter crap I would get some sort of karmonic reward for not killing myself. Nope. Just everyday monotony which may, or may not, be even worse than a bad day. I can't say anything explicitly bad happened today and but nothing even close to goodly came up.
Just crap. Utter shit and merde.
Blegh. I am becoming more and more cynical and bitter everyday.
Finished paste-up night down at the paper. Always sorta fun. Sean, of all people, offered me a ride home. That was. . . Unexpected to say the least. Before we left Anna pulled me aside to make sure he didn't work his "manly charms" on me. Because, everyone knows a depressed rebound girl is hot. Poor guy, it seems so much like he just wants people on the paper to accept him.
Bill was being really weird about the making fun of Jessica thing. He defends he a lot, which is kinda weird. Whatever though. I don't particularly care for Jessica but bashing on her isn't a required part of my day. Just heavily recommended.
Wrote a pretty good column for the paper on the last minute. I'm not too ashamed of it. I'm keeping myself a serial column called Ferreting Around. Has a nice little picture of me on top and everything. I kinda ranted about how much I hate my age group in this one. I'm just an angry person, I suppose.
I'm wearing my hobo gloves right now, which are awesome and warm. But, I'm not cold and it's kinda hard to type wearing them. Better. Seriously, those things impair fine motor movement worse than some types of codeine/aspirin I've been on.
My week has not picked up at all. You think after so much utter crap I would get some sort of karmonic reward for not killing myself. Nope. Just everyday monotony which may, or may not, be even worse than a bad day. I can't say anything explicitly bad happened today and but nothing even close to goodly came up.
Just crap. Utter shit and merde.
Blegh. I am becoming more and more cynical and bitter everyday.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
The best is yet to come undone
Current Music: Dummy Discards a Heart - Deerhoof
Krista fails at life. I don't even want to bother with suicide. Last time I almost died and I still remember how much that fucked up the home. I just can't decided what I want to do with my life now that I am fairly certain I will never be of use to anyone. I could become a telemarketer. At least that way I would know for sure that everyone hates me, instead of all this maybe, maybe not crap. I'm in that state of mine where anything positive anyone says about me makes me think they must be lying to take advantage of me some way. Really, right about now the only people I trust are the ones who openly want to use me. Which. . . might explain my affinity for bad romantic associations. *shrug*
I'm starting to hate, more and more, the people who focus in on one thing I say to criticize, without mentioning, once, the things I say that actually mean more to me. I write what I write to help the people I know, since a lot of them complain about what a close book I am in person. Jaime mentioned to me the other day how she couldn't read my eyes, though I always looked sad. Her mom apparently mentioned how touched she was by me while I was visiting. I have that affect on adults who look at my hair and then my clothes and write me off as a rebellious ass. Secretly, I am a 48 year old women reliving her youth.
I wish, because then, at least, I would be over this insecure stage and actually have a firm sense of identity about who I am in relation to my world. I want to kinda, I don't, shake things up, in the hopes that they settle down in a shape I can actually understand. I'm lost without a guide. I want to understand myself more, I wish I knew what I really wanted to be. I wish I knew who I am. I cant understand half my thoughts because they come out in such a way that I can barely understand the flow as coherent words rather than a primal roar of desire and hopes and anger and sadness. Mostly desire to be rid of the rest. When I don't talk to other people they assume so many things, none of them right. Sometimes, the only way to say anything at all is to be silent with more weight than words alone could weigh.
I've been reliving the worst four moments of the last month over and over again in my head. I see myself recoiling from Ferts cage, over and over again, sometimes falling into my fetal position, sometimes screaming and crying, sometimes picking him up to discover he was just seizuring and sometimes just running away in tears. I see myself consoling my mom as she looks for work, already nauseous from her afternoon medications, sometimes looking for work myself, sometimes kicking her computer in, sometimes promising I would find a way to keep her from having to go back to work. I see myself finding Omelas. . . over and over. I see myself when Scott talks to me, sometimes telling him to shut up so I can talk in private, sometimes telling him to get his fucking arm off of me before I bite it in half, sometimes I actually just stand there and cry, like I wanted to all along. At times, I can really remember what actually did happen until I stop and think about it.
All I want is a little peace and quiet from my own mind.
Krista fails at life. I don't even want to bother with suicide. Last time I almost died and I still remember how much that fucked up the home. I just can't decided what I want to do with my life now that I am fairly certain I will never be of use to anyone. I could become a telemarketer. At least that way I would know for sure that everyone hates me, instead of all this maybe, maybe not crap. I'm in that state of mine where anything positive anyone says about me makes me think they must be lying to take advantage of me some way. Really, right about now the only people I trust are the ones who openly want to use me. Which. . . might explain my affinity for bad romantic associations. *shrug*
I'm starting to hate, more and more, the people who focus in on one thing I say to criticize, without mentioning, once, the things I say that actually mean more to me. I write what I write to help the people I know, since a lot of them complain about what a close book I am in person. Jaime mentioned to me the other day how she couldn't read my eyes, though I always looked sad. Her mom apparently mentioned how touched she was by me while I was visiting. I have that affect on adults who look at my hair and then my clothes and write me off as a rebellious ass. Secretly, I am a 48 year old women reliving her youth.
I wish, because then, at least, I would be over this insecure stage and actually have a firm sense of identity about who I am in relation to my world. I want to kinda, I don't, shake things up, in the hopes that they settle down in a shape I can actually understand. I'm lost without a guide. I want to understand myself more, I wish I knew what I really wanted to be. I wish I knew who I am. I cant understand half my thoughts because they come out in such a way that I can barely understand the flow as coherent words rather than a primal roar of desire and hopes and anger and sadness. Mostly desire to be rid of the rest. When I don't talk to other people they assume so many things, none of them right. Sometimes, the only way to say anything at all is to be silent with more weight than words alone could weigh.
I've been reliving the worst four moments of the last month over and over again in my head. I see myself recoiling from Ferts cage, over and over again, sometimes falling into my fetal position, sometimes screaming and crying, sometimes picking him up to discover he was just seizuring and sometimes just running away in tears. I see myself consoling my mom as she looks for work, already nauseous from her afternoon medications, sometimes looking for work myself, sometimes kicking her computer in, sometimes promising I would find a way to keep her from having to go back to work. I see myself finding Omelas. . . over and over. I see myself when Scott talks to me, sometimes telling him to shut up so I can talk in private, sometimes telling him to get his fucking arm off of me before I bite it in half, sometimes I actually just stand there and cry, like I wanted to all along. At times, I can really remember what actually did happen until I stop and think about it.
All I want is a little peace and quiet from my own mind.
i should have given you a reason to stay
Current Music: Echo & the Bunnymen - The Killing Moon
worst mood imaginable. Things from life are going downhill, faster and faster. Seems personal tragedy follows the snowball effect. Seems like every last thing I love, want, or care for will be causing me pain. At this rate, my second grade teacher will be giving me a call tomorrow to let me know she didn't really think I was a smart cookie at all and, in fact, she thought I was the dumbest crumb she had ever seen.
I have my dead rat sitting on my desk, wrapped in a burial shroud for tomorrow. Taking him up to the hills for a burial. It was my dads' idea and I just happen to really like it. I kinda hate the state of mind I am in right now. It feels as if nothing is going my way at all and I just sorta want to sit in my room, in the dark, with my razors and contemplate what it means to be alive. Which, really, isn't all that much to think about. I want to forget that I am pathetic. I want to feel important and cared about. But it seems like the more I withdraw from everyone around, the more smoothly things run. I know that none of my friends really need me. I'm worse than useless in our group. I'm the squat ugly one who makes things uncomfortable with her problems. Beautiful people can have problems because they at least contribute by being goodlooking. Someone like me with problems is just useless because then you have temporary focus on someone like me. I'm such a waste of time and space. I don't want to do anything at all anymore. I don't want to play Vampire, I don't want to go to school and I really don't want to have to deal with my problems right now. All I want is to get back to my quiet time when no one would pretend to care about me before changing subject , when I didn't have any friends but, at least, I knew I wasn't cared for, instead of always having to wonder when the ball will be dropping on my head and I will no longer be welcome.
worst mood imaginable. Things from life are going downhill, faster and faster. Seems personal tragedy follows the snowball effect. Seems like every last thing I love, want, or care for will be causing me pain. At this rate, my second grade teacher will be giving me a call tomorrow to let me know she didn't really think I was a smart cookie at all and, in fact, she thought I was the dumbest crumb she had ever seen.
I have my dead rat sitting on my desk, wrapped in a burial shroud for tomorrow. Taking him up to the hills for a burial. It was my dads' idea and I just happen to really like it. I kinda hate the state of mind I am in right now. It feels as if nothing is going my way at all and I just sorta want to sit in my room, in the dark, with my razors and contemplate what it means to be alive. Which, really, isn't all that much to think about. I want to forget that I am pathetic. I want to feel important and cared about. But it seems like the more I withdraw from everyone around, the more smoothly things run. I know that none of my friends really need me. I'm worse than useless in our group. I'm the squat ugly one who makes things uncomfortable with her problems. Beautiful people can have problems because they at least contribute by being goodlooking. Someone like me with problems is just useless because then you have temporary focus on someone like me. I'm such a waste of time and space. I don't want to do anything at all anymore. I don't want to play Vampire, I don't want to go to school and I really don't want to have to deal with my problems right now. All I want is to get back to my quiet time when no one would pretend to care about me before changing subject , when I didn't have any friends but, at least, I knew I wasn't cared for, instead of always having to wonder when the ball will be dropping on my head and I will no longer be welcome.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Another diet fed by crippling defeat
Current Music: Death of an Interior Decorator - Deathcab for Cutie
If you visited yesterday, you already noticed I, uh, sorta changed things around a little more than I usually do. Being home 95% of the day does this to me. Too much time to think about myself and the like. I've been too disappointed in myself lately. Also, I'm a little perturbed at how people, okay, a person, will claim to want to know what I'm thinking. I don't do well telling people things because I become very emotional and anything I want to say gets lost in all the rubbish that comes out of my mouth. People act like they really want to know what is going on in this little twisted mind of mine but, really, all they want is to see what I have to say about them, personally. It comes to a point that I have to weed out words I type, essentially censor my thoughts, so that no one is offended. My blogs are for me. Anyone who reads is simply observing. I like my friends to know it is there to read because I know that, sometimes, I can be confusing since I cannot take direct confrontation. I hate talking to people. I'm awful at it. I'm awkward and weird and I never get a chance to say what I mean at all. And the stupidest shit comes out too, things that even I would refute if I heard someone say it. But, hey, that's me, a bundle of contradictions and a heaping helping of baggage.
God, I hate myself sometimes. Doesn't stop me from staying alive though, no matter how often the thought flits through my mind.
-waiting for something to go wrong
If you visited yesterday, you already noticed I, uh, sorta changed things around a little more than I usually do. Being home 95% of the day does this to me. Too much time to think about myself and the like. I've been too disappointed in myself lately. Also, I'm a little perturbed at how people, okay, a person, will claim to want to know what I'm thinking. I don't do well telling people things because I become very emotional and anything I want to say gets lost in all the rubbish that comes out of my mouth. People act like they really want to know what is going on in this little twisted mind of mine but, really, all they want is to see what I have to say about them, personally. It comes to a point that I have to weed out words I type, essentially censor my thoughts, so that no one is offended. My blogs are for me. Anyone who reads is simply observing. I like my friends to know it is there to read because I know that, sometimes, I can be confusing since I cannot take direct confrontation. I hate talking to people. I'm awful at it. I'm awkward and weird and I never get a chance to say what I mean at all. And the stupidest shit comes out too, things that even I would refute if I heard someone say it. But, hey, that's me, a bundle of contradictions and a heaping helping of baggage.
God, I hate myself sometimes. Doesn't stop me from staying alive though, no matter how often the thought flits through my mind.
-waiting for something to go wrong
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Information travels faster in this modern age
Imagine one day talking about how much you would like to go to CS Hayward. You talk about it with everyone but anyone who would have any say in you going to said Cal State.
A day or too later, you get a totally random letter in the mail. It's a rejection letter from CS Hayward. While you are an exceptional student, you just cannot be admitted.
I just had the romantic equivlant and, yes, it does feel similar. My ulcer just flared up a few minutes ago while i was on the phone with Jamie. It's really, really not healthy for me to feel so stressed without taking my damned pills.
I think the reasons this rejection is making me feel even worse than I normally would are 1) I didn't even ask him out and i was pre-emptively rejected, 2) he said numerous times how awesome i am, leading me to believe he said no early because I am hideously unattractive, 3) I was so shocked, i pretended I had no clue what he was talking about and, as such, i'm just embarrassing myself because he KNOWS already, 4) my friends all talked down about him and said he was hardly worth my emotion which really only makes the rejection that much more pathetic and, further pointing out that the rejection was probably because he found me extremely ugly and 5) because he kept touching me while doing it. . . and it only made me more sad to have to smell him and be told that, yes, he really is not interested.
Then, the "pep-up" talk, i guess. Where my emotions were belittled, because we all know that i don't really feel, i just make things up to be pathetic and i was compared to a man for the only fault i've ever heard uttered about him from anyone but me. Oh, and, apparently, i am abusive to my friends and the meltdowns of all my previous friendships were my fault and am doomed to repeat my mistake for the rest of my life, leaving me alone and afraid and unloved for at least until I can pick up 18 year old dudes who want me to buy them beer. I need drinks, or shisha. Lots of either and soon. My vices keep me alive by sheer force of addiction.
Current playlist:
Interpol - Untitled
DCFC - Transatlanticism
Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart
The Cure - Lovesong
Beck - Lost Cause
DCFC - You Will Be Loved
Blur - Out of Time
Nirvana - Something in the Way
Nada Surf - Inside of Love
Broken Social Scene - Lover's Spit
Says a lot about how I am right now. Which, is crushed, berated, small, pathetic and tearful. Just waiting for something to go wrong. I hate myself so very, very much right now.
A day or too later, you get a totally random letter in the mail. It's a rejection letter from CS Hayward. While you are an exceptional student, you just cannot be admitted.
I just had the romantic equivlant and, yes, it does feel similar. My ulcer just flared up a few minutes ago while i was on the phone with Jamie. It's really, really not healthy for me to feel so stressed without taking my damned pills.
I think the reasons this rejection is making me feel even worse than I normally would are 1) I didn't even ask him out and i was pre-emptively rejected, 2) he said numerous times how awesome i am, leading me to believe he said no early because I am hideously unattractive, 3) I was so shocked, i pretended I had no clue what he was talking about and, as such, i'm just embarrassing myself because he KNOWS already, 4) my friends all talked down about him and said he was hardly worth my emotion which really only makes the rejection that much more pathetic and, further pointing out that the rejection was probably because he found me extremely ugly and 5) because he kept touching me while doing it. . . and it only made me more sad to have to smell him and be told that, yes, he really is not interested.
Then, the "pep-up" talk, i guess. Where my emotions were belittled, because we all know that i don't really feel, i just make things up to be pathetic and i was compared to a man for the only fault i've ever heard uttered about him from anyone but me. Oh, and, apparently, i am abusive to my friends and the meltdowns of all my previous friendships were my fault and am doomed to repeat my mistake for the rest of my life, leaving me alone and afraid and unloved for at least until I can pick up 18 year old dudes who want me to buy them beer. I need drinks, or shisha. Lots of either and soon. My vices keep me alive by sheer force of addiction.
Current playlist:
Interpol - Untitled
DCFC - Transatlanticism
Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart
The Cure - Lovesong
Beck - Lost Cause
DCFC - You Will Be Loved
Blur - Out of Time
Nirvana - Something in the Way
Nada Surf - Inside of Love
Broken Social Scene - Lover's Spit
Says a lot about how I am right now. Which, is crushed, berated, small, pathetic and tearful. Just waiting for something to go wrong. I hate myself so very, very much right now.
Friday, January 20, 2006
el resolution
so far all my new years promises have been turning out well. Been keeping my food journal and doing the whole jogging thing at least twice a week. I figure, if about three quarters of mt insecurity comes from body issues, then at least doing something to solve the problem will make me feel better. And. . . i kinda like waking up and jogging before i shower. It just feels good.
the one thing i hate is drinking water. I hate water. It tastes like nothing and leaves a steely feel behind. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Blegh. i would much rather have a little mini 7up but damned if i'm wasting 100 calories on that.
the one thing i hate is drinking water. I hate water. It tastes like nothing and leaves a steely feel behind. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Blegh. i would much rather have a little mini 7up but damned if i'm wasting 100 calories on that.