Escape in my Neon

I’m mentally, physically, and emotionally drained at this point in my life, and I’m struggling to figure out exactly what to do with it all.

I did actually quit Juicee’s.. I haven’t gone and danced since last week Sunday, though I hear they’re hoping I’ll come back and work. I just can’t. It’s so skanky there that I couldn’t bear to walk in there ever again.

But my mother thinks I’m still working (at a hotel), and I don’t know what to do about that. I have two weeks of paychecks to produce when I really don’t have anything to work off of. The money I did make dancing all went towards buying clothes and shoes for working, and gas. To escape any questions, I make sure to go out every night, and purposely leave her under the impression that I’m going to work when, in truth, I’m making road trips.. seeing friends.

Road trips have been my escape this week. First New Jersey on Tuesday, then Maryland for Friday, Saturday and into early Sunday, Rhode Island Sunday night, and Massachusetts last night. When I get out of this melancholy mood, I’ll write about them. After Pennsic. Or before. All things I need to write about.

Well, I don’t need to write about anything, I suppose. I feel compelled to. I don’t even know why. And of course, because I still walk in shadows, not everything that occurred will be revealed. But that’s all right, I suppose.

But it feels like all I do is worry about money now. It is very draining.. and I don’t even want to go to school at this point. I want to hide somewhere and not think about anything for a few days. I keep promising myself that I’ll look at other strip clubs in Providence, but I can’t help but let worries nag at me.. about my mother finding out, or that I’ll have another awful experience like at Juicee’s. But I need that some of cash flow coming in…

It’s all too much. I have no one who understands here. It’s to where I’ve begun cutting again… or I should say, more frequently. It’s still superficial, which is a bit of a comfort, but when I get so upset or angry with myself that I wind up with blood running down my arms… that’s when I worry again. I drew blood the other night, which wasn’t my intention. I need to be careful… there are still scars from Pennsic that I’m hopign will fade away, like all the rest.

I don’t feel like dying.

I just want to stop being so afraid of the future and my world and life.