I do not believe.

I do not believe I can go on living my life like this.

I do not believe I will ever be happy like I wish I could be.

I feel like a shell of a person. Falling away. A little more everyday.

Broken. I'm miserably broken.

Things can change so fast. In such a small amount of time.

They always change. Downhill, for me. Never the right way.

I'm such a pessimist.

"I don't really want to live this life ..."

I want my life to be happy ... how I want. Something good. Real.

Me.

I am.

Why?

Why do I do this? Why do I push people away? Austin IMed me today and offered to take me out to lunch. And I said no. Because I have class. I do have class. But I doubt I really need that long to get ready.

I push and I push and I push and I expect people to keep coming back. And they do. But after awhile they give up. I don't know how I make friends in the first place, with how I act.

Why won't I do it? What am I scared of? I'm scared of people viewing me as fat or depressed or annoying or anything else. That's what I'm scared of. Only, it's not. There's something else that I can't pinpoint.

And people wonder why I have such an attitude. I have such an attitude because I'm scared to have anything else. If I act like a bitch the whole time, no one pegs me as shy or insecure. There's an excuse for everything in being bitchy.

All these fucking broken links. They're going to eat me alive.

It's like that song.I don't even remember which one, but I think it's by Sarah McLachlan.

About the shadows. All the damn shadows.

And you know? I'm not even in a bad mood right now.

love,
J

Me.

Psycho posting day, nah? Need soda. Soda = lunch. Then I won't get so fat. Right?

See what Care Bear you are.
See what Care Bear you are.
I find this so amusing, because last time I took the test it said I was sleepy and Grumpy bear. (What is this, the 7 Dwarves?)

More.

I've been so psycho-crazy-posting today, why not do it some more?

I love the weather. It's like spring. I used to cry when it didn't snow in the winter. Now I'm getting to be like all the grown-ups who always ... always hated the snow. When did I get to be like that?

Oh, I don't care. It's nice outside. When it's cold, even if it's sunny, it makes me sad. But it's nice.

I like my school. Even when I hate the classes. I like it because I can say, LOOK AT ME. LOOK WHAT I CAN DO. LOOK WHAT I DID RIGHT. (Look what I didn't fail ...). I can say look ... I shouldn't be here and I am and I can do it. Me. I can do something on my own. Isn't that just crazy? Me.

I have three hours of government tonight. I think I'll fall asleep and surely want to drop the class soon. But, oh well. I can do it. Right? Right?!

I just blow hot and cold here, huh? I need a job ...

But it doesn't matter.

Maybe, if I smile real pretty and fake it real good, people will be convinced that I'm happy. Maybe I will be too. (It doesn't matter that I never was before, there's a first time for everything.)

I'm already losing touch with people in Germany. That's so evil of me. (But there's still time, right? There's always time ...)

It's been a year since Bio. I can't believe that. It feels long ago but it seems like it shouldn't feel so long ago. (Like when that girl died. I can't believe how weird time is.)

I need to lose weight. I don't have the willpower to be anoerxic and I'm scared of vomiting. (That's a good thing because I don't really want to be anorexic or bulimic, just pretty. Thin. I hate the stereotype of beauty.)

I have things to do. This weekend. Me. With plans. (Can you imagine, people want to hang out with me?) That's so weird. Maybe it'll be fun. If I can just get myself to be happy, and not just wear a happy mask. (I have bad habits, ok? They'll go away.)

I like this weather. It's really pretty.

It's like I think if I keep typing, eventually I'll be able to explain.

Is this what it's like to be deaf? I feel like I can't speak. Physically ... I can speak. But I feel like I literally have something ... STUCK in my throat, that I have to get out, and I CAN'T SAY IT.

It's not that I can't say it. It's that I don't know what it is. If I did, I wouldn't be able to say it. But it's all tied in. And I just keep thinking ... if I type enough, try to figure it out long enough, then eventually it'll work, and this nervous, anxious, upsetting feeling will go away.

And it's not going to. I don't know my problem and typing it probably wouldn't help, I need to scream and cry and I can't and it wouldn't matter if I could because I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME.

So I keep typing these journal entries, one after another, hoping, praying, that somehow, one of these times, whatever is WRONG with me is going to surface and someone is going to SEE and KNOW and tell me what to do.

And it's impossible, because how can anyone do what I can't do to help myself?

I feel so ... broken. And cut off. I have never really felt like this before. Even before, when I was depressed, I just didn't care. I'd sleep all day and cry and it didn't matter, I didn't care.

But now ... it's like there's something horrible, breaking me inside, eating away at me and I don't know what it IS ... I don't know how to make it go away and it makes me feel so SICK.

And I know I have to readjust to America but I CAN'T, but I was never even really ever unadjusted, was I? I just let myself stop caring about things and get depressed and that would be the same anywhere and I have NEVER felt this kind of confusion before and if it doesn't go away, I think I'll be sick, I don't know how this ... this HAPPENED ...

Wait, I lied. Yes I do.

I let it happen.

Oh GOD ... godgodgodgodgod I'm so ... so ... GOD I can't find the words, I KNOW I have the vocabulary but I don't have the KNOWLEDGE and I have to be the good, strong girl ... I have to be the role model when I can't do anything right and it's no wonder I fight with my parents all the time, because ANYTHING will set me off ...

I can't have my 5th grade innocence again but I don't have any newfound ... knowledge or independence and this life is breaking me ... I can feel it ... I'm not living.

I'm not living.

I am alive and I am going through the motions but I am not LIVING and that is the scariest thing I think I have ever admitted but I honestly do not feel like I am truly *living*. Alive, yes. Living, no. I'm just HERE. I'm existing. Enjoying life now and then. Occasionally. Trying to find the bright side and failing. Making things hell and trying to apologize and clean up the mess later.

And it doesn't work. It never, ever works. I went 8,000 miles away and it followed me. I came back and it was still here.

It's these fucking shadows that are chasing me and they're going to catch up to me. I don't mean LITERAL shadows, I'm not schitzo, I mean that figureatively but it's true, it's these damn shadows and I am FALLING APART.

And I am SO sorry to anyone who reads this and has to put up with my shit yet AGAIN, and feels they have to try to take time out of their ALREADY busy schedules and their life problems to deal with mine. Don't feel that way.

I'll be okay. Always am, right? Always am.

Morning smiles
like the face of a newborn child
innocent unknowing
Winter's end
promises of a long lost friend
speaks to me of comfort
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
here in this lonely place
tangled up in our embrace
there's nothing I'd like
better than to fall
but I fear I have nothing to give
Wind in time
rapes the flower trembling on the vine
nothing yields to shelter it
from above
they say temptation will destroy our love
the never ending hunger
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
here in this lonely place
tangled up in our embrace
there's nothing I'd like
better than to fall
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
I have nothing to give
We have so much to lose.

This lonely, lonely place to me.

God. I am a nutcase. A complete wreck. I'm sorry.

~Jess