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i'll pretend i'm doing that now, okay, instead of not getting to because my therapist was flooded and didn't go to work.
damn. damn. damn. damn. can i be a narcissist with low self-esteem? all i do now is think about myself. freak the fuck out, really: "oh yes oh yes she doesn't hate me but isn't it weird that the first thing she said was 'that's well-written' after she read life_is_like_a_lifetime_movie_damnit? like riding in cars with boys, the movie version. but she's so nice. why can't i admit to anything serious in a serious way? i can't say, "i'm bisexual," but i can sing "take me out to the psych ward" while waiting for my therapist? there is something fucked-up about that.
i need to stop taking everything so seriously. be Anti-Emo, the same music, but a complete introvert who is cheerful and charming no matter how shitty she feels. nobody really cares that much, anyway. i sound like a complete fucking idiot talking about all this shit. except without the fucking. because it really is just chemicals. not that hormones are an excuse, but they are the cause. at least i'm not crying for no reason anymore. but even when i'm estatic i don't feel that great. most of the time i feel like shit, actually, and i'm sure as shit not good to other people. if i was good to other people, i could deal with everything. but i'm not. i mean, sure, i made allie feel better the other day, but i sortof lied while i did it. also, deena wants to know what was making me so happy yesterday. should i tell her? nobody should care, but they might, and i don't want to stop the conversation . . .
. . . it did so not say prozac was supposed to make you anxious. i'm going to bed now, but i won't be able to fall asleep."
yuppers. that's how_my_mind_works: the happy version.
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060103
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