Sleepless in Chestertown
I've got racing thoughts. They don't stop no matter how much I know I need to sleep. My heart has shallow beats, yet I can practically feel the neurons firing, surging, sending signals to my amygdala. My body is weak, my mind alive. My heart is close to dead. I would say it is doing about 45-50 beats a minute. My resting is normally 56, so it's only going a little slow.
When you have anxiety disorders, you tend to estimate this shit to a tee. I hate thinking the things I do. I hate that I rejected two people who asked me out to Birthday Ball. I am having so much guilt over it.
I shouldn't feel guilty though. It pisses me off. I finally turned people down without giving them a chance. I was finally assertive, even if it was in the form of rejection. I'm not meant to be like this. I can hardly stop thinking about it. I told one person that I'm not going so he wouldn't continue to ask me.
Granted, I don't really want to go for reasons previous stated, I am going just to get a drink in me. Alcohol and loud music mix well when you want to disappear in the swarms of shiny dresses and button up shirts.
I'm not even watching this as I type. I'm in a daze. That's the best thing to call it. I'm staring off and my fingers are magically doing this. I may be dissociating since I'm sick and haven't been sleeping enough. I just can't stop thinking. I hate anxiety disorders. Even when my heart isn't racing, I'm still thinking. I wish my mind was a clapper.
I've got a song on repeat that sums up my mistakes during October that poured into November which led to me not wanting to ruin someone's night. She never said that I would, but I get the feeling I would. Last weekend's drama wore off as far as I know. I've heard nothing else. But, if any weekend is to cause drama, it would be this one.
I don't know what to do. I honestly don't. I want to go and see people, do the picture taking thing and have people lie to me about being pretty so I can get a compliment that isn't about how "smart" or "nice" I am.
A person can only hear the same things so many times. I'm not even that smart. I'm just desperate enough to work this hard. If I don't understand something, I will sit there and force myself to learn it, even if it's in a roundabout way. My kindness has been wearing thin for years. A foundation can only take so much before it caves from the center, downward, and finally, into itself.
I'm sitting here with expensive birthday gifts my mother can't afford to get me thinking about what a waste these things can truly be. I appreciate the thought. She put a lot of thought into it, but with Graduation coming up and all the money I'm going to shedding from wallets as of April with NCUR, there isn't a point.
I really wish she hadn't been thinking about my birthday. I have no plans for it. I thanked her and of course I smiled. I like the gifts. I just hate that it's always some object to buy my affection because we're becoming distant due to all the little thoughts I'll never share because they would break her heart.
I'm so considerate of other people that I don't want to live my life. It's rather pathetic. The things you compliment me on are the things that hurt me the most. Just once I want to be pretty or some other adjective that doesn't directly relate to my pitiful lifestyle.
It's this kind of thing that makes me not want to go to Birthday Ball, though. I know the whole "You look gorgeous!" thing will be fake as all fuck and that so many people will be drunk when they say it. Even if people hate me, they'll jump into a picture with me because it's Birthday Ball and they want to be in as many Facebook pics as possible.
I think it's more realistic to have everyone sit in a massive circle and play Spin the Revolver. (I have no idea why I made up such a strange game. Duck, duck goose is better!)
Basically, what I mean is that I think the petty rituals we almost worship make us all lose a bit of ourselves for those four or so hours. I can get into a short dress, have my tits out, be noticed, and get compliments Saturday night. As of Monday morning, I'll just be the girl you pass by at the same time every MWF that you smile at while going to class.
I'm not sure it's worth it for me to try to throw myself out there. Why look like a whore for two people who asked me out and I rejected as well as my ex who would rather I lay on 213 than to smile at her and tell her that I like the way her hair makes me want to celebrate Christmas, even with my jaded views of the holidays and being an atheist? I didn't tell her this, I thought about it but the look I got stopped me. I don't want to fuck with her, upset her, or do anything that makes her unhappy. I've got enough guilt as it is.
I think that was a run-on a couple of sentences back. Oh well. The rules of grammar do not apply when I'm sick and it's 3:30 am.
So yea. Fuck this entry. I'll probably reread it later and wonder why the fuck I wrote it in this state and laugh at some of the shit I put down. I always come up with weird shit when I'm tired like the magical catheter we could have so we could just pee while sleeping and it would go to the toilet for us or the evaporator for the pee. Just get the particals to go upward. I can't remember whether it was Ariella or Laura who got to hear me come up with that shit while tired once. Although I do like the new game I created tonight: Spin the Revolver. Makes me feel like a game of Clue... Or watching Clue. Oh, Clue <3.
Haha yea, me tired is the closest I'll be to intoxicated. Yay for being sick and having an 8am-9pm day to wake up to soon. Got to get up at 7 something in order to get dressed. No one needs to see me naked. Unless you want to. But you have to pay me $5 or maybe May Day. Heh. I need sleep.
Clap off!
When you have anxiety disorders, you tend to estimate this shit to a tee. I hate thinking the things I do. I hate that I rejected two people who asked me out to Birthday Ball. I am having so much guilt over it.
I shouldn't feel guilty though. It pisses me off. I finally turned people down without giving them a chance. I was finally assertive, even if it was in the form of rejection. I'm not meant to be like this. I can hardly stop thinking about it. I told one person that I'm not going so he wouldn't continue to ask me.
Granted, I don't really want to go for reasons previous stated, I am going just to get a drink in me. Alcohol and loud music mix well when you want to disappear in the swarms of shiny dresses and button up shirts.
I'm not even watching this as I type. I'm in a daze. That's the best thing to call it. I'm staring off and my fingers are magically doing this. I may be dissociating since I'm sick and haven't been sleeping enough. I just can't stop thinking. I hate anxiety disorders. Even when my heart isn't racing, I'm still thinking. I wish my mind was a clapper.
I've got a song on repeat that sums up my mistakes during October that poured into November which led to me not wanting to ruin someone's night. She never said that I would, but I get the feeling I would. Last weekend's drama wore off as far as I know. I've heard nothing else. But, if any weekend is to cause drama, it would be this one.
I don't know what to do. I honestly don't. I want to go and see people, do the picture taking thing and have people lie to me about being pretty so I can get a compliment that isn't about how "smart" or "nice" I am.
A person can only hear the same things so many times. I'm not even that smart. I'm just desperate enough to work this hard. If I don't understand something, I will sit there and force myself to learn it, even if it's in a roundabout way. My kindness has been wearing thin for years. A foundation can only take so much before it caves from the center, downward, and finally, into itself.
I'm sitting here with expensive birthday gifts my mother can't afford to get me thinking about what a waste these things can truly be. I appreciate the thought. She put a lot of thought into it, but with Graduation coming up and all the money I'm going to shedding from wallets as of April with NCUR, there isn't a point.
I really wish she hadn't been thinking about my birthday. I have no plans for it. I thanked her and of course I smiled. I like the gifts. I just hate that it's always some object to buy my affection because we're becoming distant due to all the little thoughts I'll never share because they would break her heart.
I'm so considerate of other people that I don't want to live my life. It's rather pathetic. The things you compliment me on are the things that hurt me the most. Just once I want to be pretty or some other adjective that doesn't directly relate to my pitiful lifestyle.
It's this kind of thing that makes me not want to go to Birthday Ball, though. I know the whole "You look gorgeous!" thing will be fake as all fuck and that so many people will be drunk when they say it. Even if people hate me, they'll jump into a picture with me because it's Birthday Ball and they want to be in as many Facebook pics as possible.
I think it's more realistic to have everyone sit in a massive circle and play Spin the Revolver. (I have no idea why I made up such a strange game. Duck, duck goose is better!)
Basically, what I mean is that I think the petty rituals we almost worship make us all lose a bit of ourselves for those four or so hours. I can get into a short dress, have my tits out, be noticed, and get compliments Saturday night. As of Monday morning, I'll just be the girl you pass by at the same time every MWF that you smile at while going to class.
I'm not sure it's worth it for me to try to throw myself out there. Why look like a whore for two people who asked me out and I rejected as well as my ex who would rather I lay on 213 than to smile at her and tell her that I like the way her hair makes me want to celebrate Christmas, even with my jaded views of the holidays and being an atheist? I didn't tell her this, I thought about it but the look I got stopped me. I don't want to fuck with her, upset her, or do anything that makes her unhappy. I've got enough guilt as it is.
I think that was a run-on a couple of sentences back. Oh well. The rules of grammar do not apply when I'm sick and it's 3:30 am.
So yea. Fuck this entry. I'll probably reread it later and wonder why the fuck I wrote it in this state and laugh at some of the shit I put down. I always come up with weird shit when I'm tired like the magical catheter we could have so we could just pee while sleeping and it would go to the toilet for us or the evaporator for the pee. Just get the particals to go upward. I can't remember whether it was Ariella or Laura who got to hear me come up with that shit while tired once. Although I do like the new game I created tonight: Spin the Revolver. Makes me feel like a game of Clue... Or watching Clue. Oh, Clue <3.
Haha yea, me tired is the closest I'll be to intoxicated. Yay for being sick and having an 8am-9pm day to wake up to soon. Got to get up at 7 something in order to get dressed. No one needs to see me naked. Unless you want to. But you have to pay me $5 or maybe May Day. Heh. I need sleep.
Clap off!