Nothin's gunna happen, I just know it.
I just told my dad that I think I have Borderline Personality Disorder. [refer to title of entry.]
I've been in a weird mood the last couple of days. I don't know where I'm at anymore. I just over-think everything, and over-think my way out of happiness. Always. There is never a moment when I can just BE without thinking about something greater and more profound and philosophical. Everything I think runs through a philosophical filter.
I try not to be black and white, because NOTHING is ever black and white.
Except that was a black and white statement, wasn't it? I really don't know.
I can't shut my mind off and I too big a pansy to do anything stupid to take my mind off things. I've DEFINITELY considered getting some pot and just getting high, but I'd be too afraid I'd get raped or something and be unable to snap myself out of my high. And I won't drink because alcohol is gross-tasting and I don't like what it does to my dad.
Great, I just tried talking to my dad again and now I'm crying a little bit and can barely see my screen.
There is no difference between the two of us. Whatever's wrong with her is wrong with me. And I hate my mother.
I can't stop crying. I hardly ever cry.
I just want to go to the doctors and find out what's wrong with me already. I've been ignored for the past year. I'm ready to find out what level of crazy I am.
THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY WHY WON'T ANYONE LISTEN?!?!?!?!
I'm crazy and no one listens to me. They fluff it off. I'm going through a phase. I am always being looked down upon. Always fluffed off. Always shunted to the side when it really matters. Why won't anyone take care of me? Why can't I be a kid? I can barely remember being a kid, a real kid with no problems and no responsibilities.
Woody probably thinks I'm a big, dramatic, ungrateful, whining idiot.
I'm so sick of me. I really do hate myself. I really do have self-esteem issues. I really need professional help. I really think I shouldn't have friends anymore--I have too much emotional baggage and I'm not mentally stable--I should not have friends. I should not inflict myself upon anyone.
Okay, that deadened feeling is starting to come back. I really do like that feeling. I like feeling nothing. I like not thinking. Apathy and I really do have a love-hate relationship. At the moment, it's kind of a love thing.
Peace.
I've been in a weird mood the last couple of days. I don't know where I'm at anymore. I just over-think everything, and over-think my way out of happiness. Always. There is never a moment when I can just BE without thinking about something greater and more profound and philosophical. Everything I think runs through a philosophical filter.
I try not to be black and white, because NOTHING is ever black and white.
Except that was a black and white statement, wasn't it? I really don't know.
I can't shut my mind off and I too big a pansy to do anything stupid to take my mind off things. I've DEFINITELY considered getting some pot and just getting high, but I'd be too afraid I'd get raped or something and be unable to snap myself out of my high. And I won't drink because alcohol is gross-tasting and I don't like what it does to my dad.
Great, I just tried talking to my dad again and now I'm crying a little bit and can barely see my screen.
There is no difference between the two of us. Whatever's wrong with her is wrong with me. And I hate my mother.
I can't stop crying. I hardly ever cry.
I just want to go to the doctors and find out what's wrong with me already. I've been ignored for the past year. I'm ready to find out what level of crazy I am.
THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY WHY WON'T ANYONE LISTEN?!?!?!?!
I'm crazy and no one listens to me. They fluff it off. I'm going through a phase. I am always being looked down upon. Always fluffed off. Always shunted to the side when it really matters. Why won't anyone take care of me? Why can't I be a kid? I can barely remember being a kid, a real kid with no problems and no responsibilities.
Woody probably thinks I'm a big, dramatic, ungrateful, whining idiot.
I'm so sick of me. I really do hate myself. I really do have self-esteem issues. I really need professional help. I really think I shouldn't have friends anymore--I have too much emotional baggage and I'm not mentally stable--I should not have friends. I should not inflict myself upon anyone.
Okay, that deadened feeling is starting to come back. I really do like that feeling. I like feeling nothing. I like not thinking. Apathy and I really do have a love-hate relationship. At the moment, it's kind of a love thing.
Peace.