How I feel: incredibly ridiculous and dumbfounded.
I watched a movie this evening… A movie I read the book of.
I’m never pleased with books made into movies. Maybe it’s because I’m a reader and love books, but the movie adaptions are always horrible.
I’m left with this icky feeling that is not pleasing. I must have certain triggers that I’m not fully aware of.
My mood was more or less fine all day. It’s been this way for a couple of weeks. Now all of a sudden, I’ve been rushed back to this god awful state of bewilderment and unease and pain.
I don’t understand why all these horrific thoughts are coming back and running through my mind. Why now? What made them return?
I told him I didn’t want to talk about “the list” right before bed. We had a great last few days together, I didn’t want to ruin the last night. I didn’t want to end up arguing. Low and behold we started out discussing, ended up arguing.
Now as I face my back towards him in bed, I try and cry silently so he doesn’t know I’m upset. I don’t want him to comfort me.
I wish I could get up and run away right now. Emotions are difficult to deal with.
Love is a difficult emotion.
I wish I had a work space here. I wish I was on a regular sleep schedule. I wish I would stop procrastinating everything in my life. I continue to wish tomorrow will be better; it has yet to come.
It’s been too long. I’m disappointed in myself for many reasons.
I was doing more or less alright. I’ve had many ups and downs. But right now, I can feel my depression creep back in. It’s extremely unsettling. I want to vomit, and cry, and scream, and run away.
I want to cut. But I can’t. I have to stop upsetting the people around me.
I might have a panic attack, if I don’t stay on top of keeping calm. I feel like the world is crumbling in around me. I’m scared. Afraid. Terrified.
I’m itching to cut right now.
And it’s fucking rough.
I’ve been having a bad few days.
I’m struggling with T.
I slept with Z. (who I only just met)
T and I had an argument. It seemed like he no longer wanted to see me. He made me seem like I was the bad guy for expressing myself.
I was having a panic attack. I nearly cut myself. Luckily my arms are fine, I didn’t give in.
Z made me sick.
I’m tried of being sick. I should probably go to the doctors. But fuck, who has time for that these days?