(no subject)

fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

My usual problem of trying to talk to and help others during their own depressions to get over mine isn't working tonight.

Cossack's got major problems with his family, much like mine....I don't think I'm making any headway. Suggestions, listening, nothing else.

Noelle is trying to make me feel better, but has her own severe problems.

Steve....god. Talking to Steve was like....I couldn't do anything. I just couldn't. Nothing I said helped, and I can't exactly go down and make his resident get head out of ass. I can't convince him that he does good things. That he helps the people he meets.

Plus...my parents left me some stuff to read on my sister's condition, particularly the stuff that's worsening or developed in the past 6 months.
The best part is of course that the pamphlets are BLACK WITH WHITE LETTERING. How better to give information on conditions that are fatal more often than not. (Of course, isn't -everything- eventually fatal? That whole mortality thing...)

Part of me wants to crack open the liqour cabinet. Of course, technically the liqour cabinet is just the bottles hidden in the pantry behind some stuff. In fact, there's a -lot- of booze in there. Part of me...part of me would love to just drink the whole fucking thing. There's vodka, grand marnier, Jack Daniels, triple sec...lots of fun things. Offhand, I've had a lot worse addictions than alcoholism. Hell, it'd even be cheaper than making all those model kits...I love gundam models, but they aren't cheap at -all-. Especially when you tend to buld Master Grade level kits that you have to get imported....

The other part of me....

Right now, I'm just hurting. Aching. I even started yelling at Noelle when she asked me a pretty simple question. One which I shouldn't have gotten angry about.

I can't do anything about it...but I'm just hurting. Even my heart aches. Sleep doesn't want to come....

I remember, when I get like this. I remember how I used to deal with this feeling, before I forced myself to stop.

Just how the razor or knife blade would feel.
How the blood oozed.
How the pain would slip out of me with my blood and the physical pain would take the edges off the edges.
Just how good that relief felt.

But I swore.
I swore.
Even if I'm not on good terms with the person I made the promise to, I gave my word.
I swore I'd never do it again, and I'll keep that word.

No matter how much part of me wants to....I will keep my word.

I'm gonna make myself rest. I'm going upstairs, I'm turning off all the lights, and I'm gonna put myself in bed.

If I'm lucky...maybe I'll even sleep.

It's funny. I woke up in a really good move. The drive, while a bit tiring, was wonderful. Talking to skarlette and putting her to bed with a kiss was a deep, deep delight, just because I was spending some of my night with her again.

Now is...just a bit of a contrast, isn't it?

(no subject)

Took awhile to get asleep, but I did...
( Small TMI )

Even though I resolved to not killing myself, the new shower-mat nearly did it for me. It's this thing that I guess is supposed to secure to the floor of the shower and make it slip free, but if it decides to unsecure itself (which it did while I was shampooing), you go for a ride unless you're fast enough to stop it, yourself, or some combination. Thankfully, despite my dad's insistances of my klutziness, I was able to stop myself from slipping and remove the mat without incident.

Though, the more I look at myself, I wonder if many of the people my dad calls klutz can routinely spar a 3rd degree blackbelt to a draw?

Klutz. HAH. Not that he'd believe it even if he saw it, I suspect. Dad seems to have a very selective memory about my accomplishments.

Got some medical stuff for my sister, and then grandma called and I helped her find a florist to make and deliver a 'happy birthday' basket to Alison sometime this afternoon. (I also have to go out and get her present from me, but I'm gonna do that in a bit.) Must now call mom to see if Alison still needs an orthodonist appointment.

Past that...meh.

At the moment I'm not so much depressed as drained out and vaugely apathetic. Which is funny, because the past few days I've had energy and to spare.

Hrm. The current food in the house is some chocolate that I'm leaving for Alison, eggs (I hate eggs by themselves), buiscuits, cubed ham, sliced ham, and some cheeses.

Hrm. If I eat something, I guess I could fry some of the ham, serve it over the buiscuits, and smother cheeses on them...but food doesn't seem that appealing, either.

Who needs solid food, anyhow? My parents will surely tell me about how they're doing so well without it when they get back.

(no subject)

We'll say this is for everyone, but two people in particular.

Next time you feel the need to randomly interject "I'm the ugliest person in the world, so convince me otherwise", or various news articles of animal cruelty or similar things while talking to me to 'help me feel better',

Please feel free to FUCK OFF

I'm getting tired of being everyone's bellweather. I'm tired of being your sponge for guilt, or reassurance, or to justify yourself by showing me how horrid the world is so I will agree with you.

In particular, the two women who have done this within 30 seconds of each other, lemme make something perfectly clear. I'm not your boyfriend/lover/fiancee/father/brother. You seem to be confusing me with such.

Yes, I am your friend. But you are starting to really fucking push it. Particularly the one who keeps asking me to justify her beauty/cuteness/selfimage. I'm sick of it when you come to my room to harass Ben and get me to do it at school, and I'm not fucking putting up with it here.

As far as I am concerned, skarlette is one of the most beautiful women in the world and the rest of you are coming in at pales, anyhow. She is a wonderful, kind, delighting woman who is there for me, I am there for her, and she doesn't take advantage of me to get sympathy or to justify behavior. She's been honest as long as I have know her, and with a heart deep as the seas.

I would do anything in the world for her, and yet all she has ever asked is that I be myself. And I love her with all my heart. Always.

I think some of you should consider looking her up and taking lessons.

(no subject)

*sighs* Going out to get Alison's present now, hopefully.

Note:

ijikeru++
ixx++

(no subject)

Got the presents, wrapped them. This is good.

Alison's back from the cardiologist and feeling okay. This is also good.

Mom and Dad are gonna make us -both- go to their weigh-in. Not so good.

But we're gonna go out for dinner and maybe a movie. This is could be good.

We'll see how it goes.

(no subject)

Okay, so the weigh-in thing took extra long today because of the holidays, so we just went home, got pizza, watched Dr. Who, and Alison opened presents. But she liked them, and it is all good.

I also found out on a personal note, that should I do this program, I'd only need to lose 185 pounds to be at my 'target' weight of 205.

Not so bad....just a really -big- 'only'.

But...we'll see.

I am thinking.