Well my class is over for the day. Now I get to take off my mask and chill for a few hours before I have to put it back on. Thanks to my inability to choose a career or to know what I want to do, I am now in a career camp for the next 6 weeks. Lucky me. I have to beg my parents to buy me a black or blue suit–one of the professors running the thing insists on the colors and the word "suit." I am having a totally morbid thought go through my head at the thought of a dark suit and what else I could use it for. I don't write these things for attention or anything. I write them in a pathetic attempt to feel better. If it weren't for these blogs, the result would be on my skin. I know I keep saying this but I really need to find a therapist. Someone OTHER than the counselors on campus–they are a joke when it comes to serious issues. I need to find out if the one place in this town takes my insurance. Though I am doubtful.
I swear I'm in the worst place possible: sad enough to cry but can't cry. Besides crying has never done me any good. "Washing away feelings" BULL!! Tears make me feel stupid and weak. Of course sitting here and typing is not helping like I hoped it would.
I feel such that I wonder how my parents would react if they were to read this? Or talk to the Real me now?
What is keeping me here? On earth with all of the violence and problems? Oh never mind, I have a belief that there is a place worse than where I currently am!!
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Tears and blogging may, in the long run, do more for your recovery than you choose to bekieve.