So I got a job as a camp counselor, which is pretty cool, not gonna lie. It feels very rewarding to work with the kids. The only problem I can find with it, is it's a boy's camp, so I feel like I'm distrusted and seen as weak or pathetic as a female. Also, the camp acknowledges the presence of a higher power, while I am mainly not religious besides any earthly, spiritual beliefs focused on inner health. We do grace and camp prayers and stuff, and being on the bible belt, I feel the strong urge to conform just to avoid ostracization. So I do. I'm ashamed of this fact, but at least the low-paying job is fun.

I quit smoking for the third time, and it worked. For two weeks…Until I found the staff smokers and started hanging with them.

Honestly, I really think they thought I was weird or retarded before that. That I was a sheltered goody goody two shoes with social deficiencies, and thought that until I lit up a cigarette right before them. Isn't that sad? Like as if smoking automatically makes you cool or mysterious. No. It's a ridiculous dependency that I've needed to stop.

The caffeine keeps me awake when I desperately need my sleep. It ages my skin ridiculously fast. Makes me irritable to the smallest of quirks and sounds. Ruins my lung power, something that's needed for the camp's swimming, hiking, and games. But I always believed it kept me on the thinner side, something I want.

Tumblr has really done a hit on my self esteem. That's funny because my self esteem went way low after I was dumped for the first time. After my dad came back home. After time spent on Tumblr and around my other "makeup-addicted" friends.

And this camp thing, because there's only one other girl on staff, and then about 15 guys and young men, has significantly helped my self esteem. Hey, no girls means no drama or pressure or competition or frivolous bull. Which is pretty cool too.

But while Tumblr, and the professional model pictures on it have affected my fashion tastes as well as my self esteem and wanted-body-shape, it has also touched my sexuality. In the last year especially, I've stared at girls more often. Thought about them more often. Thought of the possibility. And followed this cool yoga blog, which also focuses on the lesbian culture. It has really attractive pictures. And the Suicide girls, too.

Now, in public, I claim to be straight. Morally and privately (and later when I'm out from the bible belt,) I am pansexual, believing in love from all. But I can't decide whether I am truly attracted to the same-sex to an extent, that I can claim to be bi or lesbian. I'm sure it's something that you KNOW is true, while I, in this young stage of life, only am attracted to girls physically. I feel like it's disrespectful of me to the GLBT community to even consider myself such, when I don't even know for sure or even know what I'm talking about. So I'm just waiting on it. Maybe I'll know later in life, maybe not. Attraction is one thing, but love is another, especially when I'm not big on the whole love scene anyway.

Now physical love? I'm a teenager, young and dumb, and as Buckcherry said, "full of cum." Not to be inappropiate, I am definitely trying to look at this in a mature, self-moral-building conceptual way.

Which, by the way, morals are hard to figure out when you don't have much of a religion to guide you. As I may have stated in earlier posts, I have been questioning on the side of religion since the fourth grade.

I have found someone. With my past history and trauma, I like being held down and forced upon, and odd choice for a sweet, little 17 year old girl, I suppose. But the friend I am foreplaying with scares me. Has his own little fetishes that I don't like as much, and for that, I'm a little frightened at times. He could blackmail me easily as I could him, so that makes me hesitate from cutting it off suddenly. But I suppose that an excuse of "talking to someone serious" and then moving many states away to college in a year is good enough to hold off most of our encounters.

I feel like everything will be easier when I'm an adult, but it probably won't. I mean, look at me. I'm five foot tall. I look like a little kid unless I dress unlike the part. I want my tattoo and I can't wait for that, but how long will it last? How long before I disagree with the statements inked into my epidermis?

But everything is getting better so far. There's a lot of stress and emphasis on college. Last year, junior year, was stressful. But it's over with. My dad's back home and we're doing fine. My mother and I are fine as long as we're not in the same room. My cutting has stopped, not since July 2010 (besides one little incident which didn't leave much of a scar.)

But my scars do scare me. They are deep. I hate the trust falls we do in camp, lining forearm to forearm up against the other. My scars are so obvious in the sun, I'm so nervous. I try to hide it, and then everyone thinks I'm retarded or slow because I'm not following the directions or not holding the correct stance until the last second. I forget about them usually. Until I come to camp.

That's something that disappointed me, that they thought I was slow because I was small and skinny and quiet. I'm in AP classes with straight A's, bro…I'm not that slow. Maybe I'm socially shy and a little off, but not entirely. I do have common sense and learn quickly…right? Sure.

I did get in my first car accident right before camp, though. It was kind of traumatizing, very scary. I still smell the smoke. I still feel the crunch and squeal of metal. My focus around florescent lights hasn't been the same since the accident.

Basically, some idiot in an SUV was trying to cross 6 lanes of traffic to get to a gas station, from like a Sonic's drive way. Maybe they didn't see me. Maybe they thought they could cross in time. Either way, I was going 50 (the speed limit), seat belt on, not expecting them at all. I crashed head on to their corner back bumper, scraping their car and totalling my parents' engine. Couldn't stop in time. The sound and feel of metal against metal still echoes in my stomach.

Air bags deployed, sending smoke. Busted up my jaw and throat. I was so scared. Limped off the road to the gas station as gasoline leaked from the car. Pulled the dog out that I was transporting. Called dad. Stuff like that. Got license and insurance out. Talked, did stuff, waited. Then I sat on the curb and finally went into shock. Ambulance and police arrived 20 minutes after the intitial crunch. I was sent to the hospital for x-rays.

I flinch whenever I see cars pulling in front of me now. I haven't driven since because of camp and all, but with friends and family…I still haven't gotten over it I guess.

So I leave on tuesday to do round two of camp staff/counselor. More smoking. More singing and smiling. Yay for being a vegetarian around meat eaters. Yay for my fragmented style of writing.

Not as many people read my blogs anymore, or comment. Maybe it's because my blogs are so long and extensive, ha. But I suppose I don't mind. I guess with all, with our typical personality types, we want to be comforted or some sort of support, but I suppose I don't mind talking to air.

It gets my mind off these things, clears my chest. It's memories that maybe I can revisit when I'm older. Who knows?

But at least I haven't had any depression episodes lately. In fact, since the turn of 2012 (maybe even fall 2011), it hasn't been that bad at all. I think it's because I'm so preoccupied and busy with work and college stuff. I've actually been hanging out with friends instead of living on the internet/tv. I don't know. But whatever it is, it's been working. No more suicidal thoughts, no more self injuries, no more pill abusing, and all drugs or alcohol issues go to social weekends based on party-like thoughts.

I hope it stays this way, though it probably won't. Being depressed…isn't fun in life.

Peace.