prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2002-03-30 - 2:32 p.m.
well, the last and final realization is in place. I am going to now have to assume that I am a manic depressive. How did I come to this fascinating conclusion ? well, it is simple, you see, my lack of medical insurance, screwed up priorities and illogical love of very expensive handbags, dictates that I am indeed my own sub par health care provider because of course it would never occur to me to go to a real medical Dr. of Psychiatry and PAY to recieve official diagnosis . and by doing so, I save myself loads of money, and can spend it on a manic handbag shopping spree, when the mood strikes.
and why do I think I am crazy?
because. I was happy for 3 seconds. on thursday.
and today is a glossy beautiful day, and i curled my hair and tried on all my clothes. and put on make up. and nothing i do seems to matter to me, anymore.
and I had to kept fighting the urge to cry. but I didn't cry. because i have simply and astonishingly run out of feelings.
I always wondered if the day would come, when being to passionate all my life, would come at a price. and I suppose it has. I have lost the ability to feel. to rage . to fear. to love. to miss. to remember. to care.
to laugh. to hold. to touch. to be. to exist.
it is like disappearing into the shell that your life has become, and feeling yourself becoming smaller everyday, until the voice you once had inside your head, is silenced, and lays at the bottom of a canyon, and is replaced with a new cruel monotone voice that plays in a slow vague loop of repeated thoughts, telling you, that "you are so ugly!" "I can't believe how stupid you are! no wonder you are alone you don't deserve anything." " you suck. you ugly stupid girl. you suck wendy you suck wendy you suck wendy. life was wasted on you. "
and exposing the voice should make you feel vulnerable and sad and pathetic and embarrassed, but you have lost your sense of shame and pride. you don't care. you just don't fucking care anymore. and stumble through the emptying into pockets of grey days, pasting a careless smile on your face which you toss occasionally at spectators like a distracted bride's flower bouquet at a make believe wedding.
everything about you is a fraud. nothing is real. you smile not for yourself, but because you do not want to bother anyone else with the details of your situation. you sit somewhere lost inside, like a child perched on the precipice of the jaws of oblivion.
and I know I am self consumed. and self indulgant. and I am not the only one who thinks so.
but I am s t u c k here.
and I do not know the way out.
I watch myself, from far far away, i notice the subtle ways i always am playing with my hair. I know all to well, all my predictable thoughts and pessimist defeating ways. I grow weary of my sarcastic private thoughts, and snickering at my scathing interenal comments. nothing is funny to me anymore. I am just so tired. so god damn weary to the bone tired.
of. being. me.
old starlight - new starbright
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