Feb. 6th, 2001

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Sometimes I run. I run until I can’t feel it anymore, until the rhythm of my bare feet on the cold concrete becomes the rhythm of my scarred heart in my aching chest. Sometimes I want to lie down and cry until I can’t cry anymore, until the rivers of tears blend into oceans, into seas, into a deluge of feelings that I can’t control. Other times, I scream. I dunk my head under the water and scream until a thorn rips through my throat and I can’t scream anymore.
Then I fall. I fall hard, and fast, and my emotion has no safety catch. The backlash from the years of torture and shredded hope comes back and slaps me across the face. The consequence of my actions from years passed magnifies and forms a huge, expanding ripple effect that rocks the boat of life. All the images that jump from magazines and TV screens that try to brainwash young adults into thinking that love equals peace and happiness, that love functions as an escape from the darkness of the world.
Over the last two years, I can say that I have learned my lesson. I learned that if I didn’t have friends, I wouldn’t have anything. I wouldn’t exist anymore. Every time I border on the line of insanity, every time I collapse in fits of crying, I can count on my friends. They never make me feel like I have to expose myself to them. They just listen to what I have to say and try to help me. They don’t probe for more details for their own knowledge; they take only what they need to understand.
I‘ll never forget the time that I needed my friends the most. A while ago I worried that I had bipolar disorder: my moods would swing from one extreme to the other and I thought about death a lot. My life was out of control and I often appeared to suffer from a teenage schizophrenia. I lost myself in daydreams and could change from one person to another in a matter of seconds. Now, don’t worry, hormones took the blame (of course), but it had me very scared and my friends had no idea how to help me. They didn’t realize that just being there helped me through one of the toughest periods of my life. Without their quiet, unobtrusive input, I would go insane. Because of their own experiences with this stage of life, they can offer advice to help improve my life, in hope that one day I will use their advice to help someone else.
I know that we’ve had confrontations. We’ve lived through a lot together in the short years that I’ve lived here and every moment is engraved in my memory forever. From screaming fights to mock battles, from troubled looks to bottled feelings, everything has always worked out for us. Through negotiation and compromise on everyone’s behalf, I feel that what doesn’t make us truly hate each other can only make us stronger, and I hope that they feel the same way. Although a thoughtless word can hurt more than the most lethal missile, my friends and I really think about things before we say them. Each one of us takes literature and language very seriously and we all know the power of words. We carefully monitor a person’s feelings before offering advice, in case, in their fragile state, advice from a voice of reason would only make things worse. By keeping a close watch on all the people whom I hold dear, I feel that I’m always ready to lend a helping hand.
So, in order to tie this seemingly senseless ramble together, I’d like to thank all my friends for just being there and being themselves. I know that if I fall into a recession and lapse back into my depressive side I can always count on them , the helping hands that reach out of the darkness and pull me to safety. I just want them to know that when they jump, I’ll catch them and when I snap, I expect them to come and visit the insane asylum. Best of all, when I’m happy, my friends share the happiness with me, and that symbolizes the truest love.

Moving on.. Today came close to one of the worst days of my life.. I NEVER cry in schoo, EVER, and today I did.

Did he think I wouldn't find OUT?! Did he think he could go on using me until I just wasted away? I'm dead.. I'm just emotionally dead right now. When Ellen told me, in Speech today, everything SHE knew.. I tried to look like I was fine, but when I got to Choir I broke down and started sobbing. And it continued through the day. I got home and Mum asked me what I did at school today, and I broke down again, but this time I wailed. She had to give me a Tylenol because I was making myself sick from crying so much.

I'm not so much angry as embarrassed. I let him USE me! I should've left the first time.. God, I feel like such a fool. And after I'd just told him all that stuff! I could cry again, now, just for the sake of my own pride. *sigh* I'm such a miserable failure..

But I don't blame Di.. I don't blame Ellen.. it had nothing to do with them. In fact, I love Ellen even more right now because she was a true friend, when I thought she betrayed me. She blocked him, she wanted nothing to do with his underhandedness. I never understood why she hated him so much and now I do. What a BASTARD..

So now I have this big thorn in my throat and it hurts.. it hurts a lot. And there's nothing I can do but sit this out.. again. Alone again. But for good this time.


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May 2001

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