Social Experiment

Distancing myself from friends.

Seeing who notices.

They're over there laughing without me. I surely don't matter to them. Nothing has changed for them. They are happy without me there.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

They're failing this experiment. Don't they know that if someone is depressed and they distance themselves, that means you go after them? That means you try harder?

People are so dense.

Or they just don't care.

I'm afraid they just don't care.

Blind.

They are all blind, or they choose not to see.

How is this possible?

Daughter to Father.

Dear Dad, I was beating my fists last night, bawling myself into oblivion, crying my heart out, thinking about how you would hold me and cry on me if you knew. I was remembering how hurt you were when my OCD was such a struggle. You cried because I was in pain. Last night I started sobbing just thinking of how much pain you would feel if you knew the pain I was in. Today is a new day. Some stupid kid carved the word "Fuck" into our car, and you said that mom probably got someone angry, and that they probably retaliated. How dare you accuse her. You then went on to talk about how everything in the past year between you too wasn't your fault at all. How awful of you! You have played with our emotions, you know it! How are you the same man that held me when I cried? That cried with me? How is this possible, dad? I then told you that I was having my friend sleep over, and you said, "Great. That's great. You had a friend over last night and now you're having another one over. I never get any peace and calm, I always have people running around." Dad, this isn't helping! You don't know what it's like to be alone with my thoughts! I can't go to you; you tell me they aren't real! I cry in my bedroom at night and push my tears aside when you come in. I am so harsh to myself. You do not know. I pity you, I feel bad for you, I cry in a corner curled in a ball for YOU. I dream of making your life what you wanted it to be. When I am alone, I am bombarded by all of these thoughts and memories. Oh my goodness... Do you know how wonderful it would be to be a giggly girl for a little bit? To have a sleepover and talk all night and watch TV and drink soda and eat junk food and laugh and laugh and to just forget? Do you know how much I crave the company of anyone who can let me escape inside our teenage moments? Do you know how much I wanted to save you and mom's marriage, and make everything okay? How much I wanted to scream at you that I loved my brother and that he deserved to have a good life even though he was lazy? Or how many times I hear mom yelling for you when my sister was ready to take her life? Do you know how many times I have sat up in bed wanting you to hold me and comfort me? Or how manyt times I have criticized myself because I knew it wasn't up to your standards? Or even my own? It is so hard to cry and want the person who made me cry to wipe my tears away. It is so hard to fall in love for the first time. It is so hard to watch an emotionally abusive relationship take place in my own home, and then fall into one myself. It is so hard for my feelings to be denied. It is so hard to want more than anything to tell you how I'm feeling, but not be able to do so, for those feelings will be cast aside . I love you so much. I want to save you. I want you to be happy. I want to help. I want to pull roots out of the ground on hot summer days with you. See me! Hear me! Believe me! Justify my pain, please! You cried on me, Daddy. YOU cried on ME. Can we reverse that? Can I please cry into your shirt and bawl like the helpless child that I am, and can you just hold me until I've fallen asleep? Can you please see my pain? Can you please try to heal these wounds with your own loving touch? My heart has broken. Oh, pleae, please, please by the father I need you to be, and please try to piece it back together. Love, your daughter.

Okay, then, starting over.

I hadn't taken my OCD medication so I was cranky and so if I take it from now on it shouldn't happen.

I must be crazy.

Well here goes day 1 again. I'm going to make it until friday. I will. I'll keep up with everything I'm supposed to and that should make the difference.

urges.

I have the urge.

I'm not going to do it.

Day three.

I gotta keep on trucking.

Well then.

Easier than I thought it would be. Not doing it. I want to, sure, but I don't need to. As of now. And I hope it stays that way.

Everybody sucks, they don't even notice anything. I mean they think it's all happy happy joy joy. Ugh.

I'm surrounded right now by the people at my lunch table. Sometimes I think Lucy suspects something. She doesn't say anything. I don't know if I want her to. I had a couple of "almost" moments today where that thing almost happened. I don't like to use specific words, you know? It sounds so harsh, and I guess it is, but it's not crazy and awful and disgusting when it's happening. It's controlled, it's a release, it's... well, it is crazy, but my mind somehow convinces me there are reasons.

I invited Renee over after school because I didn't want to be alone. When I'm alone, I start thinking. I hate thinking. I hate when my thoughts block out everything and I'm just staring and nothing can keep me from remembering and missing. And I hate when I get that feeling, and know what I need to do to get rid of it, or to at least take the edge off.

I have a therapist, but I actually have an appointment next week. I figure I can make it until then. With effort. I hope. Yeah, I just need to keep believing that I can. As long as there's something left over. If they leave, if they fade, it's so weird, but I'll feel betrayed. I'll feel betrayed if the wounds heal.

That sounds so crazy. That sounds so damn crazy. Maybe I am just crazy. Maybe I'm just really trucked up in the head and am criminally insane.

But then, I remember that night when he said to me that he was crazy and I told him he wasn't. And he said, then what am I? And I said, "you're just hurt, you're just hurt."

So why can't I just say that to myself? Isn't that true? Aren't I just hurt?

2 days. Ugh, I hate counting things.

2 days. Mrah. Well. Well, anyway, I guess. I don't know. I don't know. I'm bitterly alone. Nobody notices a damn thing anymore. This could harden me if I let it. LOL wait I don't even think I can be hardened. I hope not. I am so forgotten. I can feel myself being forgotten. Okay, I guess instead of doing something stupid, I'll write. Like, maybe I'll just replace it with writing in this blog type deal. Who knows, I'm stupid.

My SAT scores came out today. I took one look at them and was ready to EJFIHDUF. Not good enough. Not good enough for NYU. I don't care if they're good, I don't care. They're not good enough for me. I can't stand myself. I'm feeling out of touch with reality again, and I'm having that feeling of disconnect from the world. Sometimes I feel like, out of touch, almost as if I'm watching myself from somewhere else. Sometimes I actually feel like I need a reminder that I'm living and breathing and that I can still do something, anything at all. But it's been two days. Which is longer than I've went in a while WOWWWW

lol what an accomplishment

I love my mother. I love my dad. Even though he's HGUAHUFHDSU. yeah, even though he's that.

at the moment my friend is asking me for advice. and another friend cried today and i tried to help and still, still, I find myself listening and helping and my goodness, where the hell is everyone now? I'm up and alone and wondering and thinking and can't function for anything, and it's just ridiculous. Does anyone care genuinely besides a select few? Besides the people who need to care? I resent myself for how I feel for certain people. Crap, that's probably what triggered everything, my absolute lack of control over anything, and how helpless I feel. I felt like I couldn't do anything. Well there was one thing I could do, right? Pfft, it doesn't matter. But it does. But does it really, Erin, nobody's asking after you at school, nobody's pointing anything out, nobody's going to see YOU and sharing YOUR pain and maybe there isn't even anyone I'll ever meet on the planet who will hold me and who will cry FOR ME even when they don't KNOW me very well.

I'm a SAINT. I'm SOMETHING. I am not of this world. I do not belong here. I am obviously not of the same species or breed or whatever that the people around me are. I relate more to dogs than people. I just want to go around giving people kisses and cuddling them when they cry. I'm a royal mess. I just want to cry right now. I want to stop the other stuff. And I can, and will, but it can't all fade. If it all fades, I will freak out. I think I'm so used to having everyone walk out of my life and losing them and having them fade away, that I just want something that won't leave. Just one thing that will not leave me, that will stay with me, that is here in front of me. God, yeah. I know. God's always there. God is the one who blessed me with a heart for PEOPLE. I'm sick of them just fading out of my life and forgetting me and leaving me to pick up the memories and pieces. Gosh, just one thing I can keep, anything at all. Even an angry red mark that I can look at so I can just know it's not leaving me. I always do that. I always look. I want to make sure it's all still there. I don't want to be making everything up. I don't want to fall into another relationship with anyone and have a connection and see them at an awful place and feel like I've made a mark and have them leave and sit there wondering if I made the whole damn thing up. I want proof. I want a sign. I want a scar I can see. I want something that screams "This happened. This HURT, and you struggled through it, and you were strong, still, because you fought. And this reminder of your strength, of your determination, isn't going to leave you like everything else."

Oh my. This is everything I want to say to someone in person.

But for someone who talks so much, and shares wisdom and knowledge about the world, I wonder how many times I let the core of me really speak.

I just want to speak out the truth.