Sicky Sicky Icky Picky...
I think I'm ill. It's more then before, you can always tell these things. My insides hurt all the time, sharp pains in my sides and chest-al area. Should tell my parents but I think, sometimes that I'd rather die if it is that serious. Which it probably isn't. So really there isn't anything to worry about, then again it's not like I'm worried.
Then again, I should be worried about a different thing, my sanity. There's no way I'm being sent to a shrink again. No offense to all those people but sometimes putting us in little white rooms really will drive a person insane. Not that I've ever been in a padded room, but they did place me in a white walled room. It was blinding. There was a little white table and a little white chair, you could miss them altogether if you didn't look for them. They gave me white paper and a pencil. This was the waiting room. The lack of colour alone was enough to make a person believe themselves dead.
I swear I'm not depressed. Mom suggested that I go tanning my reply was: "I like being pale." Anyways continuing on the note I was heading in I am sick in the head. Recently I mentioned about not talking to someone for the weekend...at least I think I did. In any case I told them why and ended up starting a fight between to old enemies. When I realized this I laughed. I laughed at stirring up old pain, hurt and anger. What the hell is wrong with me?
Sometimes I wouldn't be surprised if I make my parents cry. I told dad about wanting to quit school and do it correspondence. He said that we would discuss this when he got home. I think he's ready to cave. I don't know so much about mom, she wants me to graduate and wear a dress. I told her I was going in a tux. I don't feel comfortable in dresses or skirts, I can't move in them.
And yes Aimee and Bryn are right about who I am, no I'm not going to write in my other journal anymore.
Then again, I should be worried about a different thing, my sanity. There's no way I'm being sent to a shrink again. No offense to all those people but sometimes putting us in little white rooms really will drive a person insane. Not that I've ever been in a padded room, but they did place me in a white walled room. It was blinding. There was a little white table and a little white chair, you could miss them altogether if you didn't look for them. They gave me white paper and a pencil. This was the waiting room. The lack of colour alone was enough to make a person believe themselves dead.
I swear I'm not depressed. Mom suggested that I go tanning my reply was: "I like being pale." Anyways continuing on the note I was heading in I am sick in the head. Recently I mentioned about not talking to someone for the weekend...at least I think I did. In any case I told them why and ended up starting a fight between to old enemies. When I realized this I laughed. I laughed at stirring up old pain, hurt and anger. What the hell is wrong with me?
Sometimes I wouldn't be surprised if I make my parents cry. I told dad about wanting to quit school and do it correspondence. He said that we would discuss this when he got home. I think he's ready to cave. I don't know so much about mom, she wants me to graduate and wear a dress. I told her I was going in a tux. I don't feel comfortable in dresses or skirts, I can't move in them.
And yes Aimee and Bryn are right about who I am, no I'm not going to write in my other journal anymore.