so i slash myself again

Twelve in12

Currently Reading: Mirror, Mirror by Gregory Macguire

Date:Sunday, 11/4/2007Time:1:18 amMood Level:DepressedSeverity:Moderate (significant impact, able to work)Anxiety:1=MildIrritability:2=ModerateHours Slept:7 HoursMedication:100 mg Lamictal

Today sucked. I wasn’t hungover. No migraine, no stomach unhappiness, nothing. I was drunk last night, but I ate something and drank gallons of water and Gatorade. I had a cup of coffee this morning before church and just went. I got calls and IMs and texts from Baboon looking for sympathy. I didn’t want to hear it. She called up all these random people and told them her friend got married and there was an open bar. I know Dustin doesn’t mind me and her drinking from the open bar, because we played at the wedding. But random people? Someone still has to pay for everything. I’m not sure that her friends did get free drinks, but thats okay. She made an idiot out of herself and got unbelievable trashed. Bonnie ended up walking her home. I was just pissed that she would do something that immature. Those people didn’t even know Dustin or Marcie. But my payback was today. She had opera rehearsal and she was hungover. She kept telling people she had the flu, but thats bullshit. She was hungover. She drank a crap load of whiskey on top of doing shots. Bonnie and Jill basically carried her home. But she was IMing me looking for sympathy and I really had none for her. Once her friends showed up, she dumped me last night. When I told her I didn’t want to be there late and I wasn’t in a good mood. The crappy mood had to do with Mike and it had to do with just general annoyance and loneliness. But she couldn’t hear that without telling me how she understood because of her and Mark.

Ok – I’m sorry. But your 7 month affair with a married professor is a little bit different from my 3 year relationship with a single man actually in my generation. She pisses me off because she never wants to just listen. She wants to hear me and then complain about her pitiful life. Poor little rich girl.

So today was just great. Except I have less than no money, no music, and might possibly be spending Thanksgiving alone here.

PS – Yes, that was a little overdramatic. But I need that overdramaticness, so that it will kick my butt into talking to my parents about what is going on.

Church went well. I had a mini adventure with train watching on my way home. Four trains sitting on the tracks, blocking the roads. No one knew why and I couldn’t pick anything up on the radio when I checked it out. Oh well. Spent the afternoon cleaning my kitchen, cleaning my fridge, cooking dinner, balancing my checkbook. I also finally sent out the email from my recital with pictures. I also got the pictures from Shazar up on Facebook. It took a while to sort everything out. But now its done and over. Balancing my checkbook made me so depressed. I need money so badly. I want to go to Chicago for Thanksgiving, but I’m really not sure that I have the money to get there. I don’t even know if I could make it home.

I want to be independent, so I’m trying to work it out myself. I’ve been looking for work on campus and other places. I’m on a ban from buying anything other than milk, eggs and bread. The thing with getting another job is I’ll have less time for rehearsals and recitals. There are a bunch of things people are trying to get together for next semester. Which is great. I’ll be playing more and working harder. But I can’t do both. I can’t work three jobs, go to school full-time and play in all these extra things, let alone organize them.

LeeAndra emailed me today asking about boys. I gave her a quick sum-up of what was new and about Mike’s phone call. As much as I love him, and as much as I want to see him, it really makes my life so much easier when he’s not around messing with my heart, head or body. I’m not exactly happy being single, but I’m pretty much okay with it for now.

Right.

Uh-huh.

Stepping on
the thoughts of all pain
released from this anger
is some place I would like to be
and when I feel myself defeated
I bleed
and when I see them twist around
dancing in their own wake
I rage

And I don’t want to exist on this plane
crashing down to the level of
depth of skin
flesh and bone
all wrapped up in pages
flashed in our faces
laughing and spiteful

Run away

Lost again
misdirected and folded
drowned in bones
and thrown away
they told me to disappear
and slowly dive
into the shallow end
of the gene pool

Try to hold on to what I believe
disappeared
no longer here as anything but
wretched and disfigured
so I slash myself again
and I drown my hopes again
lose myself in this disease

Lost again
misdirected and folded
drowned in bones
and thrown away
they told me to disappear
and slowly dive
into the shallow end
of the gene pool

Cut yourself to the mold
Nothing left to rid yourself of
but bile and blood
torn skin screaming
and silenced as we
replace marble with plastic

Lost again
misdirected and folded
drowned in bones
and thrown away
they told me to disappear
and slowly dive
into the shallow end
of the gene pool

Disease ~ Allison Crowe