(no subject)
I'm painfully afraid that I'm the "Karen" in all my friend groups.
It makes me want to be a shut in. To get a kitten or a puppy and raise it to love me unconditionally. It'll never know I'm a Karen.
And what sucks the most is that I desperately want to not be Karen. And with a few people, one on one, I don't feel like Karen. But in groups, I seem to always be out of place. I want to please people so badly and I think that's why I always feel so very victimized by any sort of teasing. And I think that's why I've blocked out my childhood. And if this feeling is a feeling that I've blocked out, then praise God. I'd rather lose all those possible memories than feel like this every time I think about Casey or Vegas Court or the treehouse my dad built for me or the smell of honeysuckle as you swung really high on the swings.
But that realisation hurts a lot too.
I'm obsessing, I know. But I'm alone right now and that's all there is to do and all I want to do is cry and cry and cry.
I'm afraid I'm depressed. I'm afraid I'm socially inept...which is really just a friendly way of saying retarded. And I'm afraid that the one is affected by the other and then the other affected by the other and so on and so fourth, vicious circle type thing.
But I will do anything, I will suffer SO much before I take medicine for something that's kooky in my head.
Mind you that I know the word kooky kind of undermines the severity of what may or may not be wrong with me.
I fear being medicated. I don't want that for myself. And that isn't any judgment on anyone who is medicated. It's just something that I'm resisting with all my power and I don't even know why. I think I'm afraid of medicine.
I got my hair cut today for the show. By the makeup/hair designer. Who said she knew what she was doing.
My hair is uneven. Everywhere.
It's AWFUL and I'm just so MAD that she said she knew what she was doing when, clearly, she did not.
So I have to deal with this mess for three weeks until the show is over and then I'm cutting my hair however the fuck I want.
And a professional is doing it.
And it's WAY shorter than we discussed.
Just...today was supposed to be a good day.
Maybe that's why all the bad is extra-disappointing this time.
It makes me want to be a shut in. To get a kitten or a puppy and raise it to love me unconditionally. It'll never know I'm a Karen.
And what sucks the most is that I desperately want to not be Karen. And with a few people, one on one, I don't feel like Karen. But in groups, I seem to always be out of place. I want to please people so badly and I think that's why I always feel so very victimized by any sort of teasing. And I think that's why I've blocked out my childhood. And if this feeling is a feeling that I've blocked out, then praise God. I'd rather lose all those possible memories than feel like this every time I think about Casey or Vegas Court or the treehouse my dad built for me or the smell of honeysuckle as you swung really high on the swings.
But that realisation hurts a lot too.
I'm obsessing, I know. But I'm alone right now and that's all there is to do and all I want to do is cry and cry and cry.
I'm afraid I'm depressed. I'm afraid I'm socially inept...which is really just a friendly way of saying retarded. And I'm afraid that the one is affected by the other and then the other affected by the other and so on and so fourth, vicious circle type thing.
But I will do anything, I will suffer SO much before I take medicine for something that's kooky in my head.
Mind you that I know the word kooky kind of undermines the severity of what may or may not be wrong with me.
I fear being medicated. I don't want that for myself. And that isn't any judgment on anyone who is medicated. It's just something that I'm resisting with all my power and I don't even know why. I think I'm afraid of medicine.
I got my hair cut today for the show. By the makeup/hair designer. Who said she knew what she was doing.
My hair is uneven. Everywhere.
It's AWFUL and I'm just so MAD that she said she knew what she was doing when, clearly, she did not.
So I have to deal with this mess for three weeks until the show is over and then I'm cutting my hair however the fuck I want.
And a professional is doing it.
And it's WAY shorter than we discussed.
Just...today was supposed to be a good day.
Maybe that's why all the bad is extra-disappointing this time.