You’ve got to assess your life on a curve. 

Words mean one thing in the OED. 

But to you, the OED’s “okay” can be your “terrific” if that’s how it needs to be. Their “pleasant” can be your “euphoric” until you get a hold of things. Until you start setting things to rights. 

That’s okay. 

Because the way that I see it, if someone’s got to take baby steps toward something in the first place, that must mean that they’re actually massive leaps in disguise. 

It’s days like today that I’m really happy that I’ve been into fandom and whatnot since a young age. That I’ve always been a nerd. Always been very enthusiastic about the things I love. 

My friends don’t always get it. My mother certainly doesn’t get it. But I do. And that’s all that really matters. Because it’s sort of like miracle-working stuff, isn’t it? Being able to just let yourself be excited over something, sharing that enthusiasm with other people, and just sinking down into it yourself. Allowing yourself that kind of joy, no matter how ridiculous or pointless anyone else thinks it is, is a good thing. It fills you up with a kind of joy, a hope, something that gives you just enough to keep on going. To tough it out for another day. 

Most days it’s a comfort. Other days it’s a life saver. 

Literally. I can’t imagine what my day would have been like if all the things that happened today worth squealing over had not happened at all. And (judging by the state I was in when I went to sleep and how I felt upon waking up) I don’t want to either. 

It’s something I’m entirely grateful for. Because I’m not really over anything that’s been happening lately, right? But I’m still here to try and get over it. I’m not plucking at the skin on my wrists with a knife in the middle of the kitchen. Or drowning myself in the shower. Or going out, buying a gun and having that be it. 

I’m not doing any of that. All of which flickered through my mind last night as viable options in five second flashes. 

Instead, I’m sitting on my couch. Tired. With a slight headache and a smile. And thinking about a madman with a box and five boys that sing. Ready for bed. And that’s quite alright. That’s better than alright. That’s fantastic. 

God, this is the most fucked I’ve ever been. Worst than sort of abusing prescription medication as a teenaged hot mess. This is worse than that. Because I’m sick. I’m properly sick. Like the images flashing through my head right now don’t involve pills at all. 

Natalie wouldn’t be happy with any of this. 

But how is any of this getting better? It’s not, I don’t think. I don’t think it is. 

I can’t see what better looks like. If I could, this’d be easier. Or it wouldn’t be so easy. 

I don’t know how much of what I’m thinking right now is real, justified stuff, or is just depression or fear or what have you. I can’t tell it apart. 

I’m sorry this is playing out like this I just don’t…I don’t know what to do.

I don’t think I really have friends anymore. Like, do I? It’s like…sometimes I feel fine but a lot of times…I don’t. I feel like nobody gives a fuck. Like it’s alright when I’m alright. Or when I’m pretending to be. But my problems are sort of untouchable. Like nobody wants the fucked up part. And I get it, I do. Who would? But I sort of thought that that was what love was all about?? Accepting the good with the bad. But I don’t think that anyone really cares to do that with me. 

I’m tired of feeling like nobody cares. 

And I’m not doing that again, like that one night. 

I’m not calling seven people in a row to get voicemails, ignored, or worse - answered and not listened to. Or told that I’m gonna get a callback and then waiting up for one that doesn’t come. 

I’m never doing that again. That was pretty much the worst feeling in the world. So, no. 

I’m just going to keep to myself, I feel like. 

Like - I was afraid of feeling like a burden to my friends all of this time and now I suppose I really am, but I’m not letting that happen. 

I’m just going to sink down into this space that I’ve made and keep to myself. To my novels. To stories. Because there’s always space for a reader or a spectator. And that never changes. 

Like…I don’t want to be anyone’s chore or anything like that. I already feel sort of useless enough. I’m already a liability.

So, I’m just going to remove myself. Things flow better for people when I’m not a factor. I’ve come to realize that. 

Like it’d be better if I weren’t here at all. 

I um. I-well. There’s that.

I want the inside of me to feel how this looks. Light. Airy. Open.

I want the inside of me to feel how this looks. Light. Airy. Open.

I’m pretty sure this is me giving up. 

I just - if all of this was meant to break me down in some way, then like - you win. Whoever you are. You completely and utterly win. 

Because every good thing happened. My body was feeling better than it had in ages. And surprise - I actually got a “yes” to be at the school of my dreams studying what I loved (and learning is what I love).

And then I’m stuck. Paralyzed. My depression and uncalled for fear. And all of a sudden reduced to hiding in my room from invisible monsters. Hiding from what? And I throw it away, don’t I? By accident. I just - gave it up. And then Nana sort of up and dies out of nowhere. 

And now it’s weird. Because I’m home all the time. And I’m either a sniveling mess because panic attacks or sniveling mess because she’s not here. A few days ago I wake up and within 15 minutes am sort of stuck on the couch virtually immobile for 7 hours. Doctors appointments have been made. Merry go round part 4, I think? Yesterday on the way to therapy I have a panic attack on the bus. Because the irony there just couldn’t help itself. Then I get home and my mom is being awful. And today I get a random message from a classmate saying they haven’t seen me in a while, they hope I’m alright, they invite me to a show (that I can’t fucking go to). And then today I’m all of a sudden listening to music that’s supposed to make me happy except I used to listen to it to cheer me up in the hospital and now it randomly makes me sad. 

Like. This week was a reminder of every bad thing. I don’t…I don’t know. 

How can everything go from marvelous to terrible just that quickly? 

I don’t…I don’t know. 

On top of all of this, my mother is trying to force me to go to church with her on Sunday. 

I have no idea how my life went all parabola-shaped. 

Everything was just getting good. But I don’t get the good parts. 

Of course not. Of course. 

I don’t want to feel this way. 

sort of fuck everyone. 

because wow. never felt more alone in my life. 

and maybe that’s not exactly fair but i don’t care. I DON’T CARE. 

because where is everyone when you need them? 

i’m there for everyone and literally no one is here for me. 

my sister. that’s all. 

i sort of just have a lot of unjustified resentment and i don’t care. i don’t. i’m going to sit here and be unjustifiably angry as fuck.