Fear and Pessimism.

I fear love nearly as much as I fear death; which is more than anything in the world.

I fear death of others more than death of myself, though the ending and uncertainty of it all kills me (figuratively, I didn't mean it as a joke.)

I fear love because of death. Death can claim the people you love. Your "one true love" even.

I realize why I hate romance movies. I hate not having what they have, but I fear what they have even more.

"Happy endings are just stories that haven't finished yet."

Titanic: a story with an ending. was it happy? NO.

I let myself do this, though I don't know why. 

Breathe in. Exhale. 

More than just a "rut"

So, I started seeing a psychologist through school...I think I've said that before, along with how 99% of what he guesses about me or tells me is true and makes perfect sense. He guess what my parents were like. He guess what I was like in a lot of ways. Hell, he told me what I was like even though on some level I already knew...

I have to go get tested for ADHD. I could skip that and go right to medication if I wanted, but if I get the testing done I would get disability and accommodations at school.

My mom has mixed feelings. . . she feels like employers would look down on me for my "disability".

Sorry, what? It's not like I'm severely disabled. I have a bit of a fucking concentration problem! Get over it. 

It's like a weight is off my chest now that this is in the air...

but he gave me a few pages of information to read - yeah, okay. Cause reading through packets of info is totally my strong suit! Ahem, what have we just established? Oh, right. 

Anyways. Time to attempt to study for a test on Thursday. Other than that "weight off my chest" - today was a completely SHIT day. Completely. And I don't know how my mood can fluctuate so much in a matter of hours. Ugh. More issues to iron out of my system.

Like a Drug...

Books really are my drug of choice. I go through withdrawal when I finish a good series. The longer the series, the harder it is to part with it. 

When I read Twilight, I had this feeling that I should just stop with the first one. It left off at a good enough point that I could have walked away, unscathed. 

But I've now finished three of the four books (Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse) and I obviously can't stop there.

I need to buy Breaking Dawn as soon as possible. What an addict I am. I'm going to get it from the mall tomorrow after work if I can. 

I just finished Eclipse tonight, and, were it not for the dreadfully sad epilogue, I would have loved the ending. I think it might be my favorite, though I was much more content with the ending of Twilight.

I now need to read the last installment, I know it will be my 'last fix' so to speak. I need to know what happens, and I want to know as soon as possible, but at the same time I'm afraid to know the ending, especially if I don't like it. And even if I do, it will be over too soon.

I know it's ridiculous, but books can break my heart, no lie. Maybe not as much as people, but my compassion breaches barriers of fiction and reality. I will feel emotions for people and characters, regardless of how fictional they may be.

The illustration is not mine. I don't know who did the editing.

Trial and Error Counseling:

Really I shouldn't have been so judgemental of the concept of seeking a counselor/therapist/psychiatrist/etc. I saw a psychologist once, and all she did was ask me what was new, how my day went, and so on.

I had my first meeting with a psychologist at school today (they have an entire building that is called the Counseling Center, and it is located just around the corner from my dorm). It was better than I expected, first of all. He asked important questions. He asked questions I hadn't thought of. He pointed things out to me, he got me to open up. My last therapist didn't do any of that!

I never knew just why I was depressed. But after one hour-long session, he said that I am most likely depressed because; procrastination and lack of concentration lead to anxiety, which can lead to depression over a long time. YES. That's exactly it! Given that there are other factors that come into it - very random ones - he hit the nail on the head.

I gave him real answers. And he was honest with me, not just scribbling on the notepad the whole time.

I'm off to work now, I can't wait to see all the kids!

Twilight.

Random things I want to blurt out:

-In Eclipse,  Edward says he was accepted to "Syracuse. . . Harvard. . . Dartmouth..."

     Edward Cullen applied and was accepted to my college.   

     And yes, it is plenty dark/rainy/cloudy here. 

-The character Leah constantly gets screwed over! I find it kind of funny, and kind of sad...because now I have a bunch of really depressing facebook flair with my name on it. And of course I added them to my profile. "And everyone lived happily ever after. Except Leah." Great one!

-I'm going to finish Eclipse tonight, and I have to go buy Breaking Dawn ASAP.

-I somewhat ruined the ending for myself long ago. . . wikipedia told me everything before I had even began Twilight. 

-I can't wait for the movie(s), I'm thinking about going on opening night! :D

Off too read! Dull day, weird mood, i don't know. 

OH. AND.

My mother was comparing me to the patient on House tonight.

A 42-year-old photographer who was divorced and had her gay friend be a sperm donor so that she could have a baby. 

I looked at her, and then realized that would probably be me in...oh god...24 years. Old. Alone. But artistic and holding onto the one thing that could fill a hole in my heart. Only I would rather adopt.

I suppose I gave up on relationships before i ever gave them a chance. Just another phobia on my list. There's something about giving your heart away and trusting someone else to keep it safe that scares me. 

I've given up on a lot of things, which is why i am so dedicated on my career goals. I hate being that girl.

Undecided isn't Neutral, it's Confused.

I've never fallen back into depression so quickly.

Maybe I've just been kidding myself the last few weeks.

At this point I don't know who to trust; my friends or family.

My mom wants me to distance myself from my high school friends, and meet new people at school.

Mostly she wants me to meet a boy.

She thinks I'm depressed now because of my friends, she thinks they are keeping me down.

She's completely right.

But I can't blame them for everything. And you can't choose the people you love.

I can't bring myself to meet all new friends right now.

What's the point?

I'll be in this town for three and a half more years (give and take for semesters abroad in between), so why change my group of friends?

I thought I had finally found the people who loved me for who I was.

But EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IS FALLING APART LATELY.

My friends are one of the major reasons I take anti-anxiety pills that aren't mine.

My mom is usually right about these kinds of things though.

Last time something like this happened, I stopped being friends with the person who was causing all the anxiety.

And she thinks its happening again.

I don't want it to happen. I don't want to believe her.

I can't keep losing. it's not fair.

But, unlike me, my mother is a realist.

"You're only 18." They tell me.

I don't want my life to be a waste. I can't have it fly by, uninterestingly. I can't go with the flow and just let life come at me. I don't want to take it in strides.

Sometimes people don't believe in me. Sometimes they don't believe in the world. But hell, I believe in myself enough to not give a damn about the world.

I've got a hole in my heart that doesn't belong to me.

Is there a word for this? I take on people's emotions and absorb them. Whether it be my friends, someone I've met, or a character in a book or movie (be it fiction or non-fiction). . . I simply feel too much for them. 

I've got holes in my heart that I don't deserve.

I've got wounds that weren't directed at me. 

This goes beyond sympathy or empathy. . . things stick with me and while I don't think about them, deep down I do remember them. And every time someone or something new stabs at me, it's all that much worse.

Maybe its a mix of depression and compassion. How the hell does that work? I've tried to look this up, but what do you look under? 'Painfully Compassionate'?? Compassion is supposed to make you happy too. 

I'm writing this as I google. I'm an internet-savvy hypochondriac. And the closest thing I have found is 'compassion fatigue' but that's still not quite it. 

I can't find anything that fits. If you know what I'm talking about, please comment! It would help.

Outsider.

I spent Monday night at home because I had tuesday off from school. My mom is sick and has about a week or two off of work, so I spent Tuesday with her, and doing homework, stopped by my old high school, and hung out with one of my best friends (we watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall because I'm obsessed with Russell Brand and luckily it was good!).

Anyways. Monday night, I felt foreign. I had to pack to go home...and when I slept in my bed I felt like I was staying in a guest room. It was so quiet, I could hear crickets. I'm used to the sound of cars, horns, and people at all hours now. But at home I was surprised if I heard my dog's collar jingle in the backyard while I lay in bed.

It was just strange, to put it simply. Nothing will ever be the way it was.

But that's fine, seeing as I have such big plans.