The beginning of November.

I feel extra on edge today. Extra panicky. I feel like for some reason I am externally able to cope better today but the inner sadness is overwhelming. Every time one of my bosses says my name, or if a friend seems upset about something regarding me, I feel like the world is about to end and my heart pounds crazily. None of this should matter because one day I will be dead.

However, since I'm still here...

I'm tired of this job. I'm tired of not having my "family" to fall back on. Not for monetary reasons, but for emotional ones. I'm tired of my problems spiraling out of control. I'm tired of not having the motivation for some STUPID reason to not make that first step to get into therapy. I'm tired of money problems and not being able go to go school full time (yet). I'm tired of not singing. I'm tired feeling ugly and insecure. I'm tired of my abandonment issues. I'm tired of physical pain.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. Whine, whine, whine. Complain, complain, complain. I am less than two years away from 30 and this is who I am. It's fucking pathetic.

Borderline Personality Disorder (unedited conglomerate).

Right now. My brain and heart twists into each other. Painful tangles of what I know is rational along with my instinct and heart . No cognition. Marijuana. Distract. Not really, no. Cold water. Drink it. Distraction. Promise ring, promise ring, promise ring. Look at it. LOOK at it! Not enough. Nothing is enough. Nothing is ever enough. I will keep my mouth shut. Something about aging helps me with this, but inside I am screaming. I will be abandoned. I am a horrible person. What is there about me that makes it worth it? Stop looking at the time. I already know what tonight was supposed to entail. That doesn't help me. Look at the phone again. No, nobody has called. Play more Scrabble online. I love him so damn much. Love is the only thing keeping me from not lashing out on him for no reason. Controlling this feels like I'm fighting against something that is killing me but giving up the fight. I do not like the feeling! I am not one to lose a fight! I have to surrender. Surrendering feels like suffocating. I feel like I'm not being MYSELF. Self control, self control, self control. Take another hit. Holding it as I type this sentence. Now I am coughing. Check my phone. Nothing. STOP IT. I am pathetic. Fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight. Clonazepam and Marijuana takes the edge off. I want to cut the tip of my tongue off. Literally. Not the expression but I picture doing this at least a couple times a month. Same for pulling my earrings through the piercings in my ears, or pulling the bar through my tongue piercing to the tip of my tongue. I have stopped cutting. It has been months. I am on day two without a cigarette and I am craving one so badly I could rip faces. If I think about having one for long enough, eventually this calms down. And now? Now I'm back to where I began. Why can I not be okay? What did you do to me, Nature? Check my phone again. YOU FUCKING MORON. Not for nothing my sound is off. I almost don't want the phone to ring. If I talk to him, I don't trust myself to not say something stupid and uncalled for. I am trying to control myself. Check my phone again. He called! I missed it and now my stomach is burning. I feel good that he called but now I feel guilty for not answering. However as I just mentioned, I don't want to put him through Hell for my own issues. The fucking TV. I look up and why oh why must the Burger King guy be on? I fucking loathe him. I also loathe the surinam toad. If you don't know what that is, look it up. Disgust. Patterns. Certain patterns make me anxious. Patterns made from HOLES. LOOK IT UP, I tell you. He called me again. Am I an asshole?

I just spoke to him.

I'm used to LiveJournal...

but I will post something here anyhow to "start".

I feel empty at this moment. I have a lot to look forward to but I'm cursed with my severe depression, panic disorder and a few other things that I'm sure is the mental disorder du jour for anyone that has had their latte made the wrong way, broke their Blackberry or whatever.

I feel that all the torture I've been through since before I could speak up until now, in various forms has permanently shaped me for life. Many say this isn't so. Many say you can get help. Sure, I believe it - but how much help is there really? No matter how happy I am, there is always a lingering misery. I see misery in the most beautiful things. This isn't a choice. It was a choice when I was a teenager because I felt that was all I could relate to. Sometimes I still choose it because it's practically all I know, and what one knows equals comfort.

I have amazing pipes and have done nothing with this talent. The biggest reason being is because of the external torment I received as a child because I looked different than everyone else. Of course now, people claim I am beautiful and unique. I always liked when people use that word 'unique'. I know what you're really saying.

Well, I'm sitting at my dead end job and leaving soon. I believe I have a sinus/throat/ear infection. Yay for physical pain to add to the mental! Do I want some cheese with this *whine*? Anyone have some stringed instruments and some morose notes to follow? I do love music you know. I also love cheese.

I will end this entry with something I started telling myself years ago but of course haven't put into action (yet?):

Time to change my nature before nature robs my time.