I'm, ah, not doing so hot. Since Friday's post I have not changed my clothes or hair or left my bed for more than 30 minutes at a time, and I'm pretty sure the long stretch was just once, to make pasta. I want to say I spent the weekend reading fanfic, but given how little I did and how long the weekend was... I think I spent more time curled up staring at nothing and crying than I had scheduled.
I'm not sure what I wanted for this weekend. I think half of me wanted to have a good time before my birthday and half of me wanted to get lots of work done so that I could hang out with Clover-the-American-friend when she comes, and because I wanted both so ferociously neither happened. Mainly I spent a lot of time feeling guilty.
Today I got a message from Cassia-one-of-my-best-Stateside-friends about her life and questioning how I am. I pictured myself from the night before, crying and rocking in my bed, and couldn't recall feeling lonelier. It was a slap in the face to realise that two days before my 21st birthday I couldn't respond to one of my best friend's messages because any response would be too depressing and 'no, I'm sorry, I've stopped dealing.' I wanted to just teleport there and step out of the strip pole in the living room and glomp Cassia, hug Gregegg-once-Speedy-the-housemate, run around Zephyr-Cassia's-boyfriend-and-Godlike-fi
So when I finished reading the message I started crying again and then I was gasping for breath and recognised the symptoms of an arising panic attack. I searched my brain for my coping methods, scrolled my Buddy List and asked for a story (thus interactive) to distract myself/ground me in reality (thank you for that - thank you thank you thank you) and remembered my brown paper Rowe bag near my bed when I was still breathing too fast and the room was spinning. Once again, my old Rowe bag for secret-buddy gifts and letter-writing papers kept me from a full-on attack - so glad I remembered it this time. Frightened me silly to be back in that place, though.
People were also posting 'happy birthday' on my Facebook wall, but it isn't my birthday. Instead of waiting for the 21st like I normally do, I changed my birthday to 1st January and hidden today to avoid lots of comments on Tuesday. I don't know why I get so secretive about it. I guess I still feel I have a strange relationship with it, and this year it's just...too hard. I don't know what I want so I'm not going after anything.
Today Dana-the-friend-from-high-school told me something that I had never known from high school, but should have guessed. She and Lindsay were my first day-to-day friends in high school and we got along reasonably well the first two years. The second two...not so much. We used to hang out on a community called Gaia whenever we were home/able to get on the Internet/not working (me/Dana/Lindsay). Senior year I was hacked - I thought it was just a coincidence. It turns out that Lindsay and Beth-a-friend-from-junior-year-English had worked together to hack me, steal my favourite things which I had spent literally years saving for in 'virtual money' - which took real time - and sell it all off for themselves. Dana found out the end of senior year and they bribed her a pretty fantastic item not to tell me. (I don't mind that bit, since it was a fantastic item and Dana and I had had troubles that year with my being a jerk and it would have stunk to find out then anyway.)
I just... ugh. I know I have a history of being somewhat egotistical and arrogant and, yes, mean, but I can't imagine doing that to anyone, as petty and stupid as it may sound to someone that it was all in a Virtual Land. But it was important to me. I can't imagine actually stealing from someone, real or virtual. I knew by the end of high school that Lindsay wasn't my friend, but since then we've had moments at one point and I helped her through a life scare. And that Beth was involved, when I didn't even know she had an issue with me...
I don't talk to these people these days anyway, and I don't consider them friends, so it isn't much of a big deal. I'm glad to know now rather than then, I think; it would have hurt far more then. Now I just think they're a bit pathetic. Then, I never recall Lindsay showing signs of conscience through high school. I remember I called her "Kleppy" for 'kleptomaniac' for a year because she went out of her way to steal a teacher's lunch just because she wanted to. Around the time I took her on a beach retreat with my church and she spent the entire weekend with a guy (who now deeply regrets that weekend in his life). Yeah, we had a great friendship. I'm glad to have Dana back - I think I'm glad to never be tempted by Lindsay again, too.
It once again makes me all kinds of grateful for the friends I mentioned above, and Mark-my-housemate, who wishes me goodnight with a hug and "have fun reading your Harry Potter porn!" ("How did you know?" "I saw 'Hermione' and could guess pretty well.")
I need to stop being such a mess for when Clover gets here. I have another dissertation draft due the 1st, so that needs some considerable headway... And other deadlines are creeping up too. All in all I need to start being a big girl, no matter how much I want to hide under my pillow with my blankey and teddy bear and cry like I have spent much of this weekend doing. Now I feel like the pathetic one.
Tomorrow the plan is to shower, put on a new outfit and leave the house - even if just for a little while - so I stop feeling so...disgusting and helpless, I guess.
I apologise if I don't sound like myself in this entry, or in prior ones, or in future ones. I have all sorts of mental wards up right now to keep from breaking down at any given moment. It feels like everything I have hurt from through my adolescence has caught up and started screaming 'DEAL WITH ME!' since the beginning of this year - it's all getting to be a bit much for me. I am so ashamed of how depressing I am lately and how I can't seem to leave my print anywhere in real life or online without coming off as plain sad. And depressing people. Augh! *Tears hair out.*
The quote is merely for optimism's sake. I feel that although I may be in hot water, there has been some grave mistake and I am not in fact a teabag at all.
A woman is like a teabag. You never know how strong she is until she gets into hot water.