The Adventures Of Lindsay

I went to see Mr.P, that guidance counselor of mine, today. Ivette came, too. I was so scared that she'd reveal those things that I lied about, but she didn't. I love her for that.

I think it's because I'm actually exerting effort into getting better that she's trusting me like that. I'm doing really good. I'm making lists when I start feeling depressed, and last night when I really wanted to hurt myself, I didn't. I had misplaced my nightguard / grindguard and was really frustrated, because Lord knows the stress I'm under, and stress = grinding teeth. And when I grind my teeth at night, certain teeth are really sensitive in the morning. I really, really, really wanted to hit myself in the forehead. Just make a fist and slam that bony part of my wrist into the solid bone on my forehead. It never bruises, so I could've done it and never said anything and nobody would've ever known. But I just thought, "If you do this, the cycle restarts. A lot of people in your life care about you and don't want you to get hurt, can't you just hold back for them? Don't do it, and just prove that you're better than that." I tried to remember how nice it feels when I just let myself calm down naturally, and I kept on hoping for it. There's a great sense of pride that accompanies it. I felt for a few minutes like I couldn't trust my hands, so I tried to forget about them. Soon enough, I felt calm again. And happy. Because, for the first time ever, I said "No." to myself. Often, it was just thinking, "Yes, go ahead. Hurt yourself if you want. Nobody's watching. Nobody's going to see whatever little scratches you leave." But people do care. I'm happy.

Anyway, I had something of an anxiety attack while I was in there. I was playing with a little red paperclip. I bent it, repaired it, made it into hearts and funny squares and triangles and picked at my nails with it. My legs occasionally started to shake, my breathing got rapid and a little forced a few times, and on several separate occasions I couldn't look up from the floor. And I could feel my face getting bright red. However, the necessary information got out. I'm safe. I'm happy. I'm relieved.

I got all my work for the day done... wait. Only most of it is done. Poopie.

I've still got to shower and lay out my outfit for tomorrow. And set up everything for the morning.

Apparently some people put Brett in a garbage can today. The idea of somebody actually picking up that scary, tall, grade eleven goth kid and making a conscious decision to place him in a trash receptacle is very, very funny to me. I lolled when I heard about it.

Well, I've got to e-mail Ivette. Then call Ivette.

What a life I lead!

I took the bus home today. I had the adequate number of tickets to board and Dad even wrote down for me a list a of instructions and when I should get off. My pal Jessica was taking the same bus, so I was able to get on with her. That lessened the anxiety a lot. I had to walk a few blocks after I got off the bus, but that was fine. Apart from my back starting to hurt while I walked.

Mom's going to be gone all night and Dad's getting home around maybe 5:00. I've got a bit of homework to do.

Otherwise, Lindsay is absolutely wonderful.

I'm happy.

Yo sup.

Didn't update in a while.

Felt like doing it.

Taking the bus home tomorrow.

This will probably suck.

But maybe not.

My pal Ivette may be coming over today.

Happy!

Got a stuffy nose today. Stayed home.

Ate soup.

Got pants hemmed.

Fun fun fun.

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This whole Live Journal thing is just an experiment, but I think it'll be fun.

Can't wait to get addicted and obsessed!

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