Monday, October 03, 2005

Usually my posts are full of random bullshit and it is up to the reader to decide whether it is fact or fiction. Well, for this post I’m going to be completely honest. And if that means I can be labeled as “emo,” then fine, call me emo. I will no longer take it personally and feel hurt by it.

Exactly one year ago, I was sitting in a dorm room in Erie, Pa, thinking about how much fun school was. I was still not hating everyone around me and my roommate and I were still on speaking terms. I was liking life as a psychology major. I would’ve never dreamed that in 365 days, I would turn into a girl who sits in her bedroom, a college drop out, who is so unhappy with her life that she actually considered becoming anorexic. Those damn eharmony commercials make her depressed and lonely. The only relationships she can have are those in her dreams, which come more frequently, just making her feel even worse. She makes plans with friends just to get alcohol so for a few hours she can forget that she has nothing. She’s too damn scared to pick up the phone and call someone to talk to when she is unhappy and when she needs someone the most, so she sits by the phone hoping someone will call her. But the phone never rings, because no one knows she is in need of consoling. She’s too afraid to let people in…she hides her feelings from everyone around her; she drives around so they won’t see her crying. The pain killer companies are kept in business by her alone, because she stresses herself out so much, she has constant headaches, backaches, and muscle tension. Sometimes, what hurts more than anything, is that some people wouldn’t/won’t believe her even if she did let them in.

Advice I get is to keep busy so I forget that I am lonely and unhappy. But I don’t know how to do that. I’ve applied at like 10 places, and no one has hired me. My hamster is nocturnal so there is nothing for me to play with during the day. The only friend I have around works all day and is too tired at night to do anything but talk on the phone for an hour. Although people keep telling me I made the right choices, I can’t help but think I should’ve just stayed at Gannon, no matter how shitty I felt it was. If I hadn’t moved in with my mom, maybe I would’ve found the perfect school and this post wouldn’t have to exist. No one agrees with this statement: I am a quitter. They just keep saying, “You didn’t quit, you’re just trying to get things in order.” Personally, I think that is the only bullshit in this entire post. I am a quitter. I quit Gannon, I quit DVC, I quit French, I quit the clarinet, and I quit giving a shit.

I no longer have empathy (I think that’s the right term) for others. It sounds really horrible, but I’m being honest. My friend ended up in the hospital the other day from doing 12 shots of vodka in an hour and I was happy she was alive because it meant I would still have a friend. Another friend’s relative died, and I didn’t really care or say anything to her; I changed the subject. I used to be caring enough to listen to other people bitch and moan about their problems, but now I couldn’t give two shits about it. I just sit and shake my head with the occasional “yeah” and “mmhmm.” In reality, I’m usually thinking about something else, whether it be what I’m doing later or the math test I failed in 7th grade.

Do I want to die? I honestly don’t know…Driving into a tree at 100 mph, jumping off a bridge, and swimming with great white sharks sound like real thrills, but I don’t know. There are times when I want to die…but right now, no. Sometimes the line between thrill seeking and attempted suicide gets blurry for me.