I'm coming back to you, dear old buddy. It's like the friend who you keep running back to when you're scared...or clutching to your mom's hand. This blog, everytime I'm scared or hurt I come running back. Within an hour of when I last posted! Pathetic.
Scared, want to keep writing forever about how I feel so I don't have to necessarily think about it too much.

I am depressed. I don't know when it started. Maybe yesterday around three in the afternoon? Can't tell if it's anything to be worried about. Can't tell if in within the next hour I'll freak or do something stupid. I can never tell how severe things will be. If I'll cry or hear things due to stress. Or if I'll just mope and then be done with it.

Ceslie is depressed again too, she says. I never know what to say. Always I'm sorry, why? And she says, like I know. And usually now she gets pissy at me. I wish I could say me too. I wish I could say that it's all downhill. I wish I could talk about what I think about at night and tell people why I can't sleep. I wish I could tell someone what's been going on. I wish that I could do that and feel better. I wish that the thought of talking about my feelings didn't make me want to barf. But all I know is that it's going to be another long night.

Claire has already sent me a letter saying she's also depressed and she says she's angry at me. Which means she'll get pissy. And Maddie is mad because we haven't hung out. And so is Dustin. So it will be a night of people texting and calling and writing about how I mistreat them. It will be another night of how I don't understand how depressed they are. I just don't get it, right?

I don't want so many people to place their happiness in my hands anymore. I don't want to be responsible for all these people. I don't want to be the scape goat or the wast basket where they unload their crap. I mean, I don't mind, it makes me feel trusted and like I'm helping. But more than five people a day is like...no, especially when if they're not happy it's my fault. It's not like that with everyone, just a lot of them.  

Ceslie is constantly updating me on how much she weighs and how much she doesn't care about it. Maybe that's true but it is triggering and makes me want to kill myself when she does these things. "Thanks. You cursed me...I'm *a certain weight*. Happy now? Oh, and I don't care either!" She might be telling the truth that she doesn't care but the way she states it she cares a whole lot. And it seems like...well...why is it a curse or even a big deal to gain weight? Why does she have to constantly remind me of weight and size and all of that? Why is she so constantly insensitive to my feelings.

I tried one time, once. I tried to explain to her how much it hurt me. She went on a rant to explain why it shouldn't. As if her "logic" can fix all of this. Everytime I want to say how I feel she counters it and makes me feel stupid for telling her how I feel. And then she wonders why I have a hard time communicating my problems. Maybe because they all get shot down.
She doesn't realize that it hurts! No matter how much she apologizes and says I love, IT HURTS. And it makes me want to die.

Oh my god, I think I'm going to throw up, I feel physically ill. I need to go.

It's been the fourth day of not eating all day and then pigging out slightly (but not quite binging) around midnight. I don't want to be unhealthy. I don't want to eat bad foods, I don't want to not eat. I don't want to worry about it. I've already got other things to worry about. Why can't I even get the basics right? Why can't I learn how to keep myself alive and healthy so that I can have a fighting chance at the other stuff?

I wish I could forget, but of course I won't. Of course I can't expect anything from the situation I'm in right now. I can't expect things to end well or for closure. It's not happening. It never will. I'm not meant to be in relationships. I say this in all seriousness, it's just a fact I am accepting. It doesn't work for me, I can't make it work.

I can't even make myself work...it's been another night up all evening. I don't have time to take a nap because I need to do school work and then go to work and then go to belly dance class and then call Claire because she's going through a hard time.

I shouldn't have time to hurt over a silly thing like a guy. I shouldn't have time to starve or pig out. I should eat my three meals and do my work and be grateful. I should face facts and live responsibly and be logical. I shouldn't be living so unhealthily, being so risky, staying up all night sitting in the backyard with my cd player and thinking about things that are never going to happen. It is not going to happen. I will not let myself get put down and let down and pushed down again. Maybe it's pessimistic but I'm just trying to be careful for once. I should know by now that it's not smart to feel these things.

I want to go outside and take a walk and then just drive and drive...drive really far away. Sometimes I get this surge of energy and passion and feel I'm better than all of this. I don't need anything or him to hold me down. I want to leave this town somedays. Somedays I want to just go and hopefully leave all the hurt behind. Of course it's not just me anymore. It's everyone. It's us. Can't just pick up and leave. It's scary.