October 08, 2004 - 2:29 pm

Thank you everyone for all the kind guestbook signings and notes. Believe it or not, I feel a little happy I chose to write about all this crap.

I am doing everything I can to try and keep myself around. I have to admit though, at this point I'm doing it for the people around me who love me, not for myself. Sometimes I hate that and sometimes I don't care too much. I hate it because I don't feel it's right to be living your life for other people. In my head, it seems perfectly logical, I don't want to live anymore (sometimes) therefore I should be able to choose whether or not I do.

People quit or drop out of things all the time. If there's something they don't like, they do what they can to avoid it. At this point I don't like being alive too much, therefore I would like to drop out.

It's so simple in my head. But I've learned that I have this tendency to minimize trauma, to joke about it as if it really weren't trauma at all.

The cut for example, the one on my left wrist? It's not too bad, it wasn't too deep. I drew blood -yes, and it was dripping some -yes. But really, I told myself it wasn't a real suicide attempt afterwards.

According to my therapist, the deepness of the cut doesn't really matter. The point is, I felt sad/angry/hurt enough to even do that to myself. I guess I can sort of see her point.

So what am I doing? Well, I see a therapist every Wednesday night. Pretty soon (as I mentioned yesterday) I will commence group therapy.

And the meds...

For so long I've avoided this but I've come to the realization that my friends/family would rather see me doped up than six feet under.

I am joining medicated America starting next week. Together we will march en masse towards some semblance of pseudo-happiness.

I guess the fact that I've stopped caring, in this case, is a good thing. I'm so neutral on everything that I'll try anything.

I try to tell myself that I'm just not meant to be in this world. I fantasize that I'm a star and I've fallen here and become human by accident. "I'm supposed to be in the night sky, not here! This is not my home!"

Truthfully, I'm not a star. Alien? Maybe. Star? Doubtful.

I'll settle for Nietzsche's in between "One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star".

There's plenty of chaos, believe you me. This will be one hell of a star I give birth to.

Friday Bingo - Pigeons in the Park

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