Don’t read this post.

Hey, internet and people thereof,

You shouldn’t read this.

I just have to get it out there, so maybe someone will know. So anyone will know…I’m really depressed. I’ve been trying for close to three weeks to be happy. This is the worst depressive episode I’ve had since the eighth grade. Nearly four years of minor episodes and this…this…I don’t even know how I made it through last time now that I’m experiencing it again.

I’m apathetic about almost everything, but my apathy sometimes comes across as sadness or anger. Very few things make me happy or excited. When I’m alone I nitpick at myself and point out all my flaws on repeat, like a playlist playing over and over. You’re not pretty. You have bad skin. You are fat. Daniel doesn’t want to spend time with you. You’re annoying. You’re obnoxious. He comes up with reasons not to be with you. Your friends don’t like you. Your friends have never liked you. 

I want to die. I want to curl up and just stop living. I haven’t felt that way in so long and it has been haunting me for weeks now. Nothing feels right about my life.

My friends shouldn’t have to deal with it and neither should Daniel. I should probably just break up with him or tell him to put it on pause until my depressive episode ends because I’m not his problem. College and homework are his focuses and I shouldn’t get in the way of that like I do now. It’s not fair to him at all.

I also did something I’m not proud of. It was really really late a couple nights ago…my phone call with Dan didn’t end well, my depression was raging like a fire in a dry patch of forest…and I self-harmed. I promised myself and many others four years ago that I would never self-harm again. Honestly, the safety scissors didn’t leave anything more than a thin, itchy scab that I scratched at over the next couple of days (the lines are gone already).  But the problem is that I came close enough to do it. I hated myself enough and wanted to make myself pay enough that I actually hurt myself.

I feel so guilty for having the problems that I do. I hate the way I am. To my friends, to Daniel…it’s not their fault. It’s mine. It’s my problem. They shouldn’t have to deal with me.

I just want to die.

I won’t, because I’m a fighter. I won’t hurt myself again, because now I’m stronger. I’m going to be okay because I’ve gotten medication and the attention that I need, but I need someone to know. I need someone to care because I can’t hold on by myself anymore.

The Problems with Personal Space

I ‘adopted’ a guy in my theatre class. He’s had some issues and I’ve been there and I thought I could help him out. I was the one person he clung to when he was at his lowest and there is nothing I love more than loving people and making them feel accepted and special. I want to help, always.

But he has this issue: he’s very touchy. On the verge of, if not definitely, gropey.

I was at the homecoming dance with Daniel (of course) and I was standing there, swaying back and forth, when a mysterious figure came up behind me and started grinding rather suggestively against me. Now, if you’ve ever been sexually assaulted, you know how terrifying it is to be in close quarters with an unknown person touching you in a way you don’t want them to. Or really just an unknown person touching you at all. Flashbacks, sudden shallow breathing, and even full-blown panic attacks can occur. Luckily I shoved the person away and reached for Daniel (who automatically hugged me). “Get off!” I said, turning to see who it was.

Lo and behold, it was the guy I’ve done so much to help out.

The upsetting part is that before this, I told him not to touch me without a warning. I am very jumpy about sudden contact and since he looks sort of like my previous ‘attacker’ it was REALLY important that he warn me because it’s just nerve wracking. At the football game we friend-cuddled under a blanket, and even then he tried to grab my butt (I stopped using the blanket after that and stood by myself). He is very much aware of my situation and of my relationship with Daniel. I don’t know why he won’t respect me! I did everything to help him recover, and he’s returning the favor with disrespect and partial panic-attacks. Luckily Daniel is almost always nearby when stuff with this kid happens.

But he shouldn’t have to be. This guy should know better and it’s REALLY pissing me off because Daniel doesn’t understand what goes on in my head when this kid touches me. To him, I feel like I’m just being melodramatic about the whole thing. It’s scary! It’s terrifying! I am an affectionate person with the right people. It’s just sad and annoying, that’s all.

Home and Going

My last Homecoming dance went well. Daniel looked so nice and Britney and I enjoyed our day together chilling out and watching movies on my couch.
Now it’s time to get serious about academics. I have to sit down and just DO everything I need to do. I also need to find a new job. I couldn’t handle the stress of Plato’s Closet anymore. This is my last week.
Anyway…Daniel and I are doing well. He is my busy bee and I am his little duck and we love each other. He got accepted to UCL over in Britain, which is both terrifying and exciting. Hopefully I’ll get into the world exchange program at GVSU and spend 2 years abroad in England as well. We agreed to attempt long distance amd see how it works. I’m slightly worried that I’m the only one who wants it to work sometimes, but that’s just who Daniel is.
In all honesty I would be glad to have him as my forever human. I love Daniel very much. Today is actually 8 months together.
Hopefully it’s going to be a good day.

Keep the Drama out of the Drama Department

I love Theatre, if you can’t tell. I’ve been blogging about it since I started a year and half ago. But my one happy place has been tainted by a girl who can’t seem to get her act together (no pun intended).

I work my tail off in that class to do well so the production will be amazing. This is our beloved teacher, Mrs. Bach’s, last year. This is her final Advanced Theatre show and I want more than anything for it to be perfect. Or at least really good…but this girl.

She keeps posting things about me on Facebook, getting up in my face about things, and she’s in my cast so I can’t just ignore her in the hopes that she’ll go away. We have to work together and she’s making it really difficult.

Angst.