Working things out
I wrote this entry in my deadjournal first because I was too cowardly to write it here. I was afraid of what people might think of me. But now that it's written I guess it doesn't matter anymore. And I'm not lj-cutting it because I don't really care at this point.
I know this isn't going to make sense but that's okay.
I'm depressed because summer is over. I'm upset because August and September, for 13 years, meant going back to school. It meant getting up early, having homework, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, having a backpack that was too heavy... but it also meant seeing people. It mean seeing my friends, or the closest thing I had to friends (when I was younger, I was pretty much friendless but I was friendly, so I felt like I had friends.) But I can't go back to a classroom setting. I can't go back to having homework and getting up early and spending hours upon hours learning useless crap. And I can't go back to seeing people. It's weird, on one hand I wish I could see people, any people really but especially my friends, but I also think I've... moved on to the point where I can't see people. For the past few months I've been withdrawing deeper and deeper inside myself and I don't even want to come out. If I get invited somewhere of course I'm going to go, but I'll feel so out of place it's not even funny. I'm not even sure I know how to function around other people... and I don't care. I'm not doing anything with myself and I don't care. I haven't yet made any attempts to go back to school, and I don't care. It's like graduating was good enough for me... I don't have anything left to prove to anyone. And I don't even care that that's how I feel. I'm ambitionless. I have no goals and I don't want any. I don't want to learn anything new, I don't want to experience anything new, I don't want to do anything. I stay up all night so I can sleep all day and avoid everyone and everything. I'm terrified of ever having to leave my house for more than a few hours at a time.
I went to New York, and I loved it. I thought that going there would fix things, that when I came home I'd be happier and better ready to face adulthood and whatever. But that didn't happen. I didn't come home with any inspiration for stories or any kind of ambition or anything. I don't want to go to college or any kind of school. I don't want to go to work either. I don't think I even can, I don't think I know how to work anymore. I don't know how to do anything. I keep trying to make bracelets, something I thought I was pretty good at, and I can't. I keep getting distracted.
The other day my mother told me I had to change the sheets on my bed. Well, that's normal, right? Well, she usually does that for me so this was the first time I had to do it myself. Okay, not a big deal. I didn't consider it to be a big deal, I mean, what's so hard about making a bed?
I spent an hour trying to get the bottom sheet on and I couldn't get it to go on the right way. I kept bursting into tears for no reason. I've never felt like that before, I kept pulling on the sheet to get it where it's supposed to go and all of a sudden, without warning, I'd fall over on the bed and start sobbing. And I'd pick myself up and keep going, and then I'd fall over again and I had no control over it, and at that point I didn't even have a desire to control it. I just kept tugging and crying and pulling and crying until I finished. Of course, it came out like crap so I cried some more. It used to be that when I had to do something I was bad at I'd keep reassuring myself I'd be okay, and that if it didn't come out okay it didn't matter because it's not that important. Usually I tell myself to keep going and not give up and that it's okay to cry, but not too much. This time I just gave up on myself and I just kept thinking how useless and worthless I am and how there has to be something wrong with a girl who doesn't even care that she's worthless to society, that she's lazy and she can't even do something as easy and simple as making her own bed. Of course I hid this disaster of a bed from my mother, because I know she'll be disappointed that her daughter is too stupid to make her own bed. And she'll probably yell at me. Because my parents don't understand that I'm not lazy... just incapable. I'm incapable of what normal people can do. I can't do anything anymore except sit and read stuff online for hours until I feel like going to bed, and then I sleep all day and avoid the world until it's time to get up, eat too much, and go back online. Every day I wake up hurting. Some days it's not so bad, and some days I feel like there's no point in coming out of my bedroom. I just want to stay in bed and look at the ceiling, or maybe watch tv or read the same books over and over and over until I have the lines memorized. I feel trapped inside my own head, but I kind of like it in here and I don't want to come out. I don't know if I even want help, I'm terrified of everything and I just want to stay home and inside and not leave ever.
When I was in school, I was going slowly insane. The constant interaction with people, and the pointless schoolwork and disappointing everyone and trying so hard to pass Algebra so I could graduate and not be a horrible failure and working so hard and not really doing anything was all just too much. I was so happy to graduate that I didn't even cry at my own graduation, even though I expected to. I kind of wanted to, so I could release everything, but I didn't.
I don't know what to do and I don't know if I even want to do anything. I don't want help and I don't want sympathy, I just want people to understand what's going on, and why I'm not in college yet. And also why I don't know how to drive yet. And why I can't make a bed and why I can't write anymore. Althought it didn't help that no one read the last thing I wrote... maybe it just sucked, I don't know. I'm a crappy judge of my own talent or lack of talent. All I know is I don't want to go to college. Or wake up next time I go to sleep, I want to sleep forever and live in dreamland. Because no one expects anything of me there.
-11:07 PM
I know this isn't going to make sense but that's okay.
I'm depressed because summer is over. I'm upset because August and September, for 13 years, meant going back to school. It meant getting up early, having homework, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, having a backpack that was too heavy... but it also meant seeing people. It mean seeing my friends, or the closest thing I had to friends (when I was younger, I was pretty much friendless but I was friendly, so I felt like I had friends.) But I can't go back to a classroom setting. I can't go back to having homework and getting up early and spending hours upon hours learning useless crap. And I can't go back to seeing people. It's weird, on one hand I wish I could see people, any people really but especially my friends, but I also think I've... moved on to the point where I can't see people. For the past few months I've been withdrawing deeper and deeper inside myself and I don't even want to come out. If I get invited somewhere of course I'm going to go, but I'll feel so out of place it's not even funny. I'm not even sure I know how to function around other people... and I don't care. I'm not doing anything with myself and I don't care. I haven't yet made any attempts to go back to school, and I don't care. It's like graduating was good enough for me... I don't have anything left to prove to anyone. And I don't even care that that's how I feel. I'm ambitionless. I have no goals and I don't want any. I don't want to learn anything new, I don't want to experience anything new, I don't want to do anything. I stay up all night so I can sleep all day and avoid everyone and everything. I'm terrified of ever having to leave my house for more than a few hours at a time.
I went to New York, and I loved it. I thought that going there would fix things, that when I came home I'd be happier and better ready to face adulthood and whatever. But that didn't happen. I didn't come home with any inspiration for stories or any kind of ambition or anything. I don't want to go to college or any kind of school. I don't want to go to work either. I don't think I even can, I don't think I know how to work anymore. I don't know how to do anything. I keep trying to make bracelets, something I thought I was pretty good at, and I can't. I keep getting distracted.
The other day my mother told me I had to change the sheets on my bed. Well, that's normal, right? Well, she usually does that for me so this was the first time I had to do it myself. Okay, not a big deal. I didn't consider it to be a big deal, I mean, what's so hard about making a bed?
I spent an hour trying to get the bottom sheet on and I couldn't get it to go on the right way. I kept bursting into tears for no reason. I've never felt like that before, I kept pulling on the sheet to get it where it's supposed to go and all of a sudden, without warning, I'd fall over on the bed and start sobbing. And I'd pick myself up and keep going, and then I'd fall over again and I had no control over it, and at that point I didn't even have a desire to control it. I just kept tugging and crying and pulling and crying until I finished. Of course, it came out like crap so I cried some more. It used to be that when I had to do something I was bad at I'd keep reassuring myself I'd be okay, and that if it didn't come out okay it didn't matter because it's not that important. Usually I tell myself to keep going and not give up and that it's okay to cry, but not too much. This time I just gave up on myself and I just kept thinking how useless and worthless I am and how there has to be something wrong with a girl who doesn't even care that she's worthless to society, that she's lazy and she can't even do something as easy and simple as making her own bed. Of course I hid this disaster of a bed from my mother, because I know she'll be disappointed that her daughter is too stupid to make her own bed. And she'll probably yell at me. Because my parents don't understand that I'm not lazy... just incapable. I'm incapable of what normal people can do. I can't do anything anymore except sit and read stuff online for hours until I feel like going to bed, and then I sleep all day and avoid the world until it's time to get up, eat too much, and go back online. Every day I wake up hurting. Some days it's not so bad, and some days I feel like there's no point in coming out of my bedroom. I just want to stay in bed and look at the ceiling, or maybe watch tv or read the same books over and over and over until I have the lines memorized. I feel trapped inside my own head, but I kind of like it in here and I don't want to come out. I don't know if I even want help, I'm terrified of everything and I just want to stay home and inside and not leave ever.
When I was in school, I was going slowly insane. The constant interaction with people, and the pointless schoolwork and disappointing everyone and trying so hard to pass Algebra so I could graduate and not be a horrible failure and working so hard and not really doing anything was all just too much. I was so happy to graduate that I didn't even cry at my own graduation, even though I expected to. I kind of wanted to, so I could release everything, but I didn't.
I don't know what to do and I don't know if I even want to do anything. I don't want help and I don't want sympathy, I just want people to understand what's going on, and why I'm not in college yet. And also why I don't know how to drive yet. And why I can't make a bed and why I can't write anymore. Althought it didn't help that no one read the last thing I wrote... maybe it just sucked, I don't know. I'm a crappy judge of my own talent or lack of talent. All I know is I don't want to go to college. Or wake up next time I go to sleep, I want to sleep forever and live in dreamland. Because no one expects anything of me there.
-11:07 PM