I'm Saying Goodbye

I apologise for my absence. I've been, well, not busy, but just uninspired to write about my boring life. I still read your blogs though, and I think you're all too wonderful. But recently I've realized that I can't do this anymore. I'm holding onto something that will only tear me down, eventually. This place, that was once so comforting and an escape, has become some horrid memory that I've been trying to forget. It's like watching a tape of you when you where younger. All you do is cringe and wish that you hadn't said or done those stupid things in front of the camera. In order to set myself free I must break the chains that bind me. So I can't come here anymore. I'll no longer post, or comment. I have to walk away before I get stuck back into that same mindset that almost destroyed me.

I love you all, and hope that you all have amazing lives.

xox

I Got It

I got house Prefect! I am so thrilled. I finally feel happy, and believe this will be a positive thing for me. It was terrifying though. They called everyone who had gotten interviews for prefects into the hall, and the Principle went on this long ramble about leadership which we've all heard a thousand times. The whole time I was just thinking "hurry up and just read the goddam list!" I was so anxious and nervous. my hands were shaking and I felt like I was going to throw up. Finally she read out the list, and I was roughly halfway down. Considering I only applied for one prefect I knew I got House. Then later in the day we had an assembly in which the titles of the prefects were read out, so I had to go up on stage and hug this years house prefect etc., etc. I am actually over the moon now.

Possibility

So two weeks ago I applied for a Prefect role at my school. Next year is my last year of college education (High School), and prefect roles are offered to girls in their final year. So I applied for a role, not expecting much, but to my delight I received a call saying that I had an interview for the Prefect I applied for. So I went for my interview, and the teachers asked me questions such as: Why are applying for the role? What can you bring to the role? What are your strengths and weaknesses? They said I gave good answers and that the interview had a 'flow'. I'm trying not to get my hopes up in case I don't get it, but I can't help wondering. I'm excited at the possibility that I may be able to influence younger girls in a positive way. I find out next Wednesday if I have it or not, so I'll keep you posted.

Let Me Sleep

I'm so tired. So very, very tired.

Even as I sit here writing this I find my eyelids drooping, and my limbs growing weary with exhaustion. I long for the comfort of my bed and the sweet release of my subconscious taking over. I have once again done nothing today.

I woke up, ate a small breakfast, cleaned teeth and skin, watched the Little Mermaid and Lion King, ate a fulfilling lunch, scrolled though the Internet for a few hours, vacuumed my room (which is still technically my father's office), organised the rail upon which my clothes now hang (it's ordered by clothing item and then colour), prepared a two course dinner, ate said dinner, watched mindless TV and then sat down to my laptop again to type this. It's only 9pm.

I find myself a lot less energised now a days. As though I'm constantly in a numb state. It could be the medication I'm on (a mixture of Zoloft and Fluoxetine), or it could be the fact that I am so constantly bored day in, day out. I really have no excuse for posting more. It's not that I don't have the time, it's just that I don't have enough interesting subject matter to share. Unless you want to hear the changes in my bowel movements, or my opinions on the latest Tyra episode.

I think I'll go to sleep now. I can't keep my eyes open for another minute.

As a Child

When I think of myself as a child, I wonder if I was truly ever happy to begin with. I mean sure, I smiled and laughed just as much as the next kid, but I was never satisfied with myself. From a very early age I was already the target for 'playful bullying'. I was tiny, still am, had plenty of freckles and fat cheeks. I was called shrimp, and spotty by the other four year olds at kindergarten. I did have friends, but even they playfully made fun of me.

First year of school I got my first crush on a boy. He had dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and an elfin face. One day I kissed him right on the lips in front of the entire class. I am still teased about it today.

I was terribly OCD as a child. I hated it when my Mother cleaned my room. If she put one thing out of place I would cry. I would slam my door, throw everything on the floor, and cry. I would call my Mother names and forbid her from entering my room. It was sort of the same whenever I attempted to clean my own room. I would start off well. Vacuum the floor, wipe the dust off all the surfaces etc, etc. But then I'd have to put everything back. I would get so frustrated because I couldn't remember exactly where everything went.

So I would cry.

When I was young, I was terrified of being alone. Terrified. for the first couple of weeks at school I would cry whenever my parents left in the morning. I hated sleeping in my own bed. After I realised that I was too old to still be sleeping in my parents bed, I forced my parents to keep the door open and turn the TV up so I would know that they were there. I slept with dozens of toys so I wouldn't feel so alone.

You know what's horrible? Even then, back when I was 9 years old, I still scrutinized my weight. I knew I wasn't fat, but everyone commented on how thin I was. My own Father called me "a rake". Of course, I loved the comments and attention, so I tried to keep myself skinny. I would refuse desert and only eat half my lunch at school. I threw myself into sports for exercise. Every night I stood on the scales in the bathroom and smiled knowing that I hadn't gained anything.

Want to know something even more fucked up? I want my pre-pubescent body back. It was so slim, and I knew the other girls admired it. I can still picture my ribs sticking out as I breathed in and out, the innocent gap between my thighs, and my bony wrist that my friends could encircle with their thumb and pinky.

It's all changed now. But then again it hasn't. I'm still picked on, and am told to keep quiet when the subject of body issues comes up. I guess the only thing that has changed is me.

I'm just tired of it all.

It Was Only A Dream

I have dreams about that room.

I dream that I open the door and my room is a mess. Desk overturned, clothes covering the floor.

But my bed is perfect.

The sheets are perfectly tucked in and the pillow is in the centre. The duvet to pillow ratio is perfect. By this I mean that the top sheet isn't to high so that it covers my face, but it isn't too low so that my shoulders are bare. It's this calm, serene object in a room of chaos.

But on top of the bed is the china doll my grandmother gave me. It has no importance to me, so I don't understand why it's there. It's one of those dolls that when you place it down it closes its eyes, and when you pick it up it opens them. I walk through the mess of my room to my bed, and look down on the doll. I stare at the doll for a bit, then gaze around my room. I ask the doll "Did you do this?"

It remains still, and sleeping.

I ask it again and again, getting more and more frustrated. Finally I pick up the doll, but it doesn't open its eyes. I shake it, and turn it over, but it still remains sleeping.

I finally realise, that it can't wake up so I place it back down on the bed, smooth its little dress and leave the room.

The dream is so vivid. It's constantly etched in my mind and I can play it over and over. Of course I understand its meaning, but I can't understand the china doll. Is it suppose to represent me? Why that doll? It's of no importance to me and never has been. Why not my favourite childhood toy? Why is my bed the only thing that isn't messy? Why is my room messy?

When I wake up, I wake up as if I have just come out of a deep sleep. My eyelids are heavy, and it takes a couple of seconds for my limbs to work. I don't sit bolt upright, eyes wide, heavy breathed and covered in cold sweat. But it haunts me constantly.

What a Week

The other day I was home alone. I was terrifying. I haven't been left alone since, well, you know. I called up a friend of mine (we'll call her R). She came over, and I was a total wreck. At first we talked about everything but what I wanted to say. The weather, her exams, a new pair of shoes I don't have the guts to buy. Finally she said it. The question everyone is too afraid to ask me.

"Was it my fault?"

As Ella mentioned in a previous post, I had sent letters to my friends and family telling them I loved them and that it wasn't their fault.

I lied.

R was looking at me with such an intense look I couldn't lie again. Truth is, it's everyones fault, but then it isn't. I was once comfortable with myself. Perfectly happy with who I was. It wasn't until all my friends started pecking at their flaws, that I decided I was wrong too. I couldn't understand it. In my eyes everyone of them was perfect, still are. If they think their ugly, I must be horrendous to look at. I told her this, and more.

Everything just tumbled out of my mouth. everything. Then R showed me something I still can't believe. She rolled up her top, and there on her perfectly flat, tanned stomach were pink scars. She confessed that she's a self harmer too. Well, she was. For a moment it was like I was staring at a mirror. I could see all my insecurities, flaws and thoughts in her. I wanted to bundle her in my arms and carry her away. She explained how her sisters (she has 3) are always the pretty ones in their friend groups. How they always have boyfriends, and people who constantly admire them. How they are always told how beautiful they are. How she is the "ugly sister".

We cried and hugged for so long. I think I've finally found someone who understands. Someone I can finally confide in, who doesn't sit at a desk with a plaque proclaiming their psychology degree. Don't get me wrong I love Miss Melody, but sometimes I don't think she fully understands.

That's it.