I said I loved you but I lied.
I know very people even read my journal anymore, but for those of you that still do, idk, it's understandable if you don't. I haven't really been doing any serious updates. Because... I've sortof just been trying to avoid reality, which only made me slip farther into this hole I've dug for myself. I figured it's about time I gave you guys a little bit of insight as to what's going on inside Kati-land. This may take a while.
Not so long ago, I started to realize shit was changing. And changing fast. So fast it felt like my life was just slipping through my own fingers. I've got way below the average score of friends for a high-school student, and I go out maybe once a week, twice on the odd occasion, and more often times than not, I just don't leave the house for anything but work anymore. I had plans, and they seem to be falling apart. I wanted to buy my camera and get the ball rolling on that, finish highschool, and go to utep for a few years. Then I would go off to Austin and major there. After that I wasn't really sure what I was going to do. I'm still not. I came to terms with the fact that my life is gonna be really fuckin' tough if I don't dedicate myself, because the chances I will make any kind of a living otherwise are slim to none. I never realized how soon eighteen was until this year. That's only two years until i am a legal adult. Five until I can legally drink. Sometime soon I will be... on my own. Alone. Noone is going to be there to help me and encourage me. It will just be that. Me. Only when you realize that you are going to be alone, do you really, truly and honestly fear it. I am so. Terrified. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to leave my family and remaining friends. But it's gonna fucking happen, and soon. I quit taking guitar lessons because I wanted to focus on photography, but at this rate I don't even see that happening. My parents, although they deny it, despise the fact I want to be a photographer. They always wanted me to be some kind of amazing breakthrough veterinarian or 'rock star'. But honestly, I never wanted to be famous, never do. I wanted to play guitar because it was something I loved to do and it brought me joy, but after a while of them ushering me to perform, my love for it quickly grew stale, and playing became a chore instead of something that made me happy. As for the veterinarian thing, I never had a strong stomach, and I would always be blaming myself for the ones that didn't make it. Photography just seemed so amazing and free. As for the job, I'll be informing Danny that my last day will be the 5th of December, because I honestly really fucking hate the new manager. She is a literally enormous bitch, who can't fucking count, and the store is going to go down the tubes. I applied for a job at Pet'sMart, but I doubt I'll get a job there, so I'll possibly apply for Zumies and some local stores/coffeehouses/whatever. I've been seeing a therapist for quite some time now, although it's not exactly an experience I enjoy, I do need someone to talk to everynow and then. She tells me I have a form of depression known as dysthymia, which about 5% of the population is effected by. It's nothing severe really, it's just... the reason I am me I suppose. The reason I can't talk to people, the reason I prefer to stay at home, the reason I don't sleep, the reason that I've been this way for so long. Probably the reason why I miss being young so much. I'm trying so fucking hard right now, to make myself happy... or, at least satisfied. But. Usually I'm just not motivated. Another symptom. But I'm gonna keep trying. When I look in the mirror in the morning, I'll tell myself I'm not useless and I can make a difference, if not in someone else's life, than in my own.
Anyways. Keep on truckin' kiddos.
Not so long ago, I started to realize shit was changing. And changing fast. So fast it felt like my life was just slipping through my own fingers. I've got way below the average score of friends for a high-school student, and I go out maybe once a week, twice on the odd occasion, and more often times than not, I just don't leave the house for anything but work anymore. I had plans, and they seem to be falling apart. I wanted to buy my camera and get the ball rolling on that, finish highschool, and go to utep for a few years. Then I would go off to Austin and major there. After that I wasn't really sure what I was going to do. I'm still not. I came to terms with the fact that my life is gonna be really fuckin' tough if I don't dedicate myself, because the chances I will make any kind of a living otherwise are slim to none. I never realized how soon eighteen was until this year. That's only two years until i am a legal adult. Five until I can legally drink. Sometime soon I will be... on my own. Alone. Noone is going to be there to help me and encourage me. It will just be that. Me. Only when you realize that you are going to be alone, do you really, truly and honestly fear it. I am so. Terrified. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to leave my family and remaining friends. But it's gonna fucking happen, and soon. I quit taking guitar lessons because I wanted to focus on photography, but at this rate I don't even see that happening. My parents, although they deny it, despise the fact I want to be a photographer. They always wanted me to be some kind of amazing breakthrough veterinarian or 'rock star'. But honestly, I never wanted to be famous, never do. I wanted to play guitar because it was something I loved to do and it brought me joy, but after a while of them ushering me to perform, my love for it quickly grew stale, and playing became a chore instead of something that made me happy. As for the veterinarian thing, I never had a strong stomach, and I would always be blaming myself for the ones that didn't make it. Photography just seemed so amazing and free. As for the job, I'll be informing Danny that my last day will be the 5th of December, because I honestly really fucking hate the new manager. She is a literally enormous bitch, who can't fucking count, and the store is going to go down the tubes. I applied for a job at Pet'sMart, but I doubt I'll get a job there, so I'll possibly apply for Zumies and some local stores/coffeehouses/whatever. I've been seeing a therapist for quite some time now, although it's not exactly an experience I enjoy, I do need someone to talk to everynow and then. She tells me I have a form of depression known as dysthymia, which about 5% of the population is effected by. It's nothing severe really, it's just... the reason I am me I suppose. The reason I can't talk to people, the reason I prefer to stay at home, the reason I don't sleep, the reason that I've been this way for so long. Probably the reason why I miss being young so much. I'm trying so fucking hard right now, to make myself happy... or, at least satisfied. But. Usually I'm just not motivated. Another symptom. But I'm gonna keep trying. When I look in the mirror in the morning, I'll tell myself I'm not useless and I can make a difference, if not in someone else's life, than in my own.
Anyways. Keep on truckin' kiddos.