Dec. 30, 1998.

Just in case I don't get to say it later, Happy North American New Year, Nikki-chan!!! *laughs*

Wow--it's almost the turn of the century. And, also almost the end of the millennium... A weird thought, isn't it? I think so.

I've been sort of depressed, lately. I really need to find new friends. I don't want to ditch Dani, or even Hannah, or Izzy, but I need friends who actually live around here (Dani's out), and who I can stand (Hannah's out), and who give a shit about me (Izzy's out). I really have to try to find people, but I probably won't until I leave.

I was thinking, about an hour ago, how long it is, still, until I graduate from grade 12. I figured out that it's not so long as it seems to be. See, in a couple days, it'll be January. February is already half-way through the school year. And, by April, it's going to be seeming more and more like spring. It'll be warmer, sunnier, the snow'll be melting, everything'll be blooming, the sky will be that much bluer--I love spring! I really do. Summer's my favourite, then spring, then winter, then fall.

It's really not all that long until spring begins, and then it's just two and a half short months until summer's here. It'll be another boring, sit-around-at-home, friendless summer, but it'll be summer, and then I'll be a senior. And, I'll be applying to collages. I'll need to take the SATs some time, won't I? No matter what, I'll refuse to tell Hannah what my score is, if I do take them--especially my math score!!! I doubt that I'll do too well, and even if I do, I don't want her to go into competetive mode, and compare her marks with me, trying to justify how I could possibly be better than her at something. *rolls eyes* Such an inferiority complex that girl has. She can be such a bitch!

But, I'll tell mom that I'd like to take them, over the summer, so that I can try it again, if I do horribly.

I may not even tell Hannah that I'm taking them at all. Just do it silently, and cheer all by myself about how I do. It's something I think would be a good idea, though. I may not get into the universities I want around here, and they may not even have the programs that I'd need. I'd like to check out all the American-type places which would work for me, too. Maybe I could even be schooled in California--maybe even Hollywood, which would be bitchin' for an aspiring film writer!

I doubt it, but what the hell! A girl can dream, ne? *laughs*

So, the SATs are a definately good idea. I wonder how I can get a green card, too, if I move to the States to write? I'll have to find all that out, too, but it won't be an issue for quite awhile, I don't think.

Hmmm... the future. It seems so close, now. It's a little scary, but really pretty nice, when you get right down to it!

I'm feeling a little better now, so I think I'll go watch some TV!

Thank you, Nikki-chan. You're a wonderful friend and confidant!

Love and hugs,

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 30, 1998.

This is my final entry from 1998 and the first part of eleventh grade. A bit of a pensive entry, but not too down. I talk about being depressed, but there's a lot of optimism here too, which is nice to see.

It becomes obvious in this entry that I'm not American. Hannah had taken the SATs because she was fairly certain she wanted to go to a US university, and had scored very well. I was considering taking them because I wanted to option of applying to US schools. I didn't end up taking them at that point; and if I had, there is no way I would have beaten Hannah's score--she is extremely smart and well-rounded.

In this case, I did follow up on the idea some years later, scored reasonably well, and got accepted to an American college for a second degree. Despite all my bitching and moaning in this entry, Hannah has been one of the ones to reassure me that just because I didn't ace the math section of the test doesn't mean I'm bad at math, and that I underestimate my non-arts intelligence. As you'll hear me say over and over: she's a good friend.

I did study film for a while, and decided it wasn't for me after all. I never did go to school in California, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I would be eaten alive if I tried to find my way into Hollywood. I still fucking love the weather in L.A., though.

Dec. 26, 1998.

There are times when I can't believe how huge my ego is! See, today, when I went on one of the chats, Brodie was on, and we were doing the whole joking-flirting thing that a lot of people there do with their friends, and I just started thinking "what if Brodie really does have feelings for me?"

I know, I know, really egotistical! I can't believe how swelled my ego must be, to think things like that! *rolls eyes, grins* So, anyway, I called him the "third big brother I never had", and hoped that that would make things clear, just in case, although my rational mind knows that it's totally needless! He so isn't crushing on me, or anything so silly as that, and I know it, even if I do worry a little that he might be, 'cause that'd just be ew!

Let me just give the reasons why this would never work, so that I can deflate my own over-sized ego a bit!

First of all I'm way too young for him! He's 20 or 21, and I'm 16. I won't go out with anyone over 19, IRL, although in c-space, my standards would be different. But, that's just too much of an age difference! Second, he's my bud, and I'm his! Why would either of us ever want to ruin that? Sure, I used to have a mini-crush on him, but that was so long ago as to be of no consequence, whatsoever! Nuh-uh, no way, nope! Not a chance! What else... well, most importantly, there's the fact that people, male and female both, don't think about me like that! Not as romantic relationship material, I mean. Both IRL, and in c-space, I'm a just-friends, one-of-the-guys-with-a-twist sort of girl! Guys (i.e,. Brodie) aren't interested in me, with the single exception of my ex-c-guy, and girls aren't interested in me, either (i.e., Skylark).

Hopefully, others will begin to show interest, as I get older, or even sooner, although I highly doubt that the latter will happen. I would like to have a boyfriend, eventually! Or a girlfriend, if I found someone nice--like Skylark, ne?

I still hold out hope. I may actually outright ask her, once I learn her age, if she's not many years older than me! We'll see. I may chicken out at the last moment--I guess I'll find out eventually! Anyway, any ideas about people crushing on me are so obviously all in my head, and it's actually sort of funny that I think they might think of me like that! *grins, chuckles*

So long! *love and kisses, Nikki-chan!*

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 26, 1998.

Clearly the idea of an older guy I respected possibly having a thing for me seemed all "ooh, exciting!" at the time. I am absolutely confident that Brodie had no interest in me. I'm pretty sure he had a serious girlfriend. But it was a minor confidence boost to imagine that someone could maybe find me attractive.

As embarrassing as this entry is, at least it's an up moment mixed in with the down ones. Hence including it (and others like it), despite being tangential to the main theme of this blog. I don't want this to be all depression, all the time. There were other sides to my life too, and it would feel dishonest to exclude those entries. I want this to be as full a picture as possible of who I was as I can manage, while keeping this anonymous.

The "ex-c-guy" I mention was some dude I "cyber dated" for a month or two, primarily because all my friends were into that and I didn't want to be left out. Not a relationship I put much stock in, even while I was involved in it. Thankfully, I don't think he particularly did either.

Dec. 23, 1998.

It's raining outside, and it's loud, and windy, and beautiful. I need to write soon. So that I won't let my co-author down. I'll do that soon. I'll try.

I haven't seen Skylark again, yet. I get a bit restless when I wish that I could see her, and she doesn't come on.

Maybe I should try calling to her, with my mind and heart, as I've done before. It worked, at least one time that I did it, if not several. What I would give to have her be as attracted to me as I am to her...

I do more than just lust after her, now. I would give so much to get to know her personally, and more for us to fall in love with each other... Though, nothing would I give which would effect my life too far in the future, and nothing I hold truly important. In the cosmic sense, ours would be a passing romance, but I would still give much for it to happen.

Skylark, if only you knew how I feel... and could find it within yourself to return my feelings with equal strength... And, if only our love could grow into something huge, and beautiful, and wonderful...

I... would like to love you, Skylark. If you'd give me the chance.

*sighs, smiles a little*

Oyasumi nasai, Skylark-chan. Nikki-chan.

Sleep well, both of you.

Love eternal

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 23, 1998.

I was attempting to co-author a Sailor Moon fanfic with someone I'd met online, which is the writing I talk about at the beginning of this entry. Sadly, I procrastinated too much to uphold my half of the story.

I also talk a little about magick here--"call to her with my mind and heart" and all that.

Even then, though I thought of myself as a "hopeless romantic" (which is far from the case these days), there was a limit on how much I was willing to consider sacrificing for love. I have usually drawn very strong lines between crush feelings and actual love, and unrequited and romantic love (though you'll see them blur in my mind with my crush on Mark in future entries), and there have always been things in my life that are more important to me than finding "true love". The potential for success, for instance. The ability to write. There are things I would never give up for the love of anyone, and that's always been the case. Some things are just worth more than that.

"Oyasumi nasai" means "good night" in Japanese. "-chan" is a Japanese diminutive used for young girls and close female peers.

Dec. 22, 1998.

I swear to God, I am trying to lose my crush on Skylark. I really am. I wasn't so excited as I usually am, last time I saw her on--last night--but, when she left, I felt such disappointment... I wish that I'd talked to her more, so she would have stayed. It's so much easier not to crush on her when she's not around...

But, I so love seeing her that it's worth any pain, ne?

It's times like this that I wish I was a guy. If I was, I'd flirt like mad with her. Maybe even end up going out with her. But it's never to be, so... I'll just have to hope that either she shows interest in me, too, or that I get over it, and move on.

I wish I had someone I could talk about this with. But, there's no one who I trust enough and would feel comfortable sharing my secret with. I'd talk to Dani, but I would feel way to uncomfortable telling her that my crush is a girl.

So, like everything else I feel, I'll just have to deal with it by myself, ne? I do it all the time with painful emotions, so this should be an easy thing to contend with, in comparison.

Ah, Nikki-chan, would that everyone were as patient and caring as you. Then, this, none of this, would be at all a problem. But, this is one of those "you can't always get what you want" things that I'm just coming to accept--few people are. I tend to be, but people like me are rare, special, and wonderful. At least a few of us do grace this world with our presence.

At any rate, back to the matter currently at hand. I hope to see her again, soon--if I do, then I'll just talk to her as I would any normal friend. no flirting, no kissing of hands, nothing. The closest I'll come will be to say that I wish I could get her a Christmas gift. If things could only go as they do within my head, she'd then respond with "talking to you is gift enough for me," but in her beautiful, romantic way of speaking.

Of course, that is far too much for me to ask for. Which hurts, but I know that I'll survive this, as I do everything else.

Skylark will probably never fall in love with me, but at least she'll, I hope, become my friend.

I guess that I can't ask for much more than that, much as I'd like to. My Lord and Lady have more important matters at hand than one of their childrens' lovelife. *smiles* I'm not being at all sarcastic--I know that they'd help me, if I ever truly needed it. Now is just not a time when I do.

I'll ask Skylark, next time I'm so lucky as to see her, if she'd mind my asking her age. Maybe she'll be only 13 or 14, anyway, which would kill any and all romantic notions I have about the poor girl. I wonder if she knows? How I feel about her, I mean. She surely isn't stupid, which means that, unless it grosses her out, and she's explained it away to herself in some other fashion, she probably does. But, if so, she chooses to ignore it.

I can't help but wonder (because of my slight egotism) if perhaps she feels the same way about me, and that's why she left so quickly yesterday--because I wasn't talking to her?

But, I know that this isn't true. Unless she's just way better at hiding it than I am, and I'm sure that's not it.

Wish I could take one of my hours long walks just now--go to all my secret places, and sit, and watch, and write, and take pictures...

But, it's too cold, and it may be icy. I really wish that I lived in a place where it never got this cold.

I need some time alone. To think. And, I need to be in a place I'm in tune with, to really be able to think as much, as well, and as clearly as I need to do. So, my dilemma may not even resolve itself until spring. If it's even resolved then.

At least it's not an IRL thing. That would be even more awkward than everything already is...

I hope and even pray with all my heart that I will see Skylark again soon. Maybe I'll even presume to ask her real name, but I doubt it. I won't flirt, though, unless she is blatantly obviously flirting with me. And, not only would that never happen (though I so wish it would), even if it did, I'd probably not flirt back, just in case I was misinterpreting her motives and actions.

If only someone would c-attack her, and I could help in defending her... or, if she'd let me really get to know her, and take the time and make the effort to let me do the same...

Then, maybe, something would happen like I wish it to.

But, even then, likely not.

I'll keep hoping, but I'll do my very best not to scare her off.

Wish me luck, Nikki-chan. Love always and eternal

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 22, 1998.

I actually get a little egotistical in this post. I'm almost impressed that I could still get that up myself at this point.

I don't think I ever saw Skylark again after this entry, so the whole becoming friends thing never happened. Probably for the best, really--I have no idea what she thought of me (though I'm reasonably certain she knew I was a girl), but unless she happened to be queer too, I was probably creeping her out. Whatever the case, she was never anything but pleasant to me.

I did continue to identify as bisexual, happily, and I became increasingly more comfortable with that as time went on. In 1998, still very early on in my coming out process, I would still have taken the mythical "straight pill" if someone had offered it to me. A year or two later that had already changed, and I wouldn't have given up being bi for any reason. In the present day my sexuality is one of the parts of my personality I am most confident in, comfortable with and certain of. (I actually prefer to identify as pansexual now, though I'll still call myself bisexual for simplicity at times, depending on who I'm talking to.) Looking back on the early days kind of makes me smile.

Sadly, the note about being glad my unrequited crush wasn't "an IRL thing" was prophetic. And, yes, you will get to see just how pathetic and awkward all that gets in some later entries. God, does all that make me squirm now.

Dec. 5, 1998.

Let's see--a car, driving lessons, a new computer.

The first two I definately need to pay for myself. The third, I ought to pay for, myself. I mean, I'm the only one who uses it, right? So, I need several thousand dollars.

Where can I get that? The driving lessons I have pretty much taken care of. I definately need a job, now.

Only a few days to go, ne?

I'll be doing what Iris does, I guess. My homework, job-type-work, and musical rehearsals. Plus, if I continue, my improv class once a week,

But, I really need a job. Both for the new computer, or at least repairs on the old one, and for a car.

And, once I have that, university, so that I don't have to stay in this hell hole for years to come.

I'm going to go write Sheila now. I'll probably come back to this later.

Jya-ne.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: December 5, 1998.

I mention Iris for the first time in this entry. I'm a little surprised that it's taken this long for her name to come up, but I like to think it's because I had so few issues with her, she didn't have a place in the more ranty entries.

Sheila was a c-penpal I can't remember anything much about anymore.

You see my independent streak coming through again here. I was, in the moment, dead serious about wanting to do everything myself. But because I was always speaking in anger when I swore to make it completely on my own, I was never much for the follow-through. I never did get my first paying job until the summer after I graduated from high school.

I also mention the school musical for the first time. I was in the extended chorus--i.e. the people who had to be included because the staff in charge wasn't allowed to turn anyone away if they wanted to be involved. Witness my amazing talent for performance. Musical rehearsals were, more often than not, miserably lonely for me, especially since Iris had to drop out of the chorus due to lack of time. I stuck with it--to this day, I'm not entirely sure why--and that becomes important later on in terms of some people I meet through rehearsals, and my big (silly) high school crush, which I developed there.

Nov. 30, 1998.

"Hide not your Talents; they for Use were made. What's a Sundial in the Shade?" - Benjamin Franklin

We are all losers to someone else.

We are all heroes to someone else.

We are all idols to someone else.

We are all beautiful to someone else.

Keep this in mind.

You are wonderful.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: November 30, 1998.

I had my positive moments. I still like this entry, and the quote that starts it off.

Nov. 22, 1998.

This should be a short one.

More out of necessity--I need to keep studying, or fail another assignment. I went to Colin for help with math, but he was on the phone. He'll probably forget about me. That's what people tend to do.

Izzy called me tonight. He asked me to feed his pets while he's away. What am I to him? Does he consider me a friend, still? I am asking sincerely... I really wish that I could know. At the moment, I've no idea. He, and his parents, obviously consider me trustworthy, but I don't know if he thinks of me as a friend anymore. I can hardly say I think of him as one. I don't really know him. Not anymore.

I rather miss having a best friend.

It really was a nice thing, having someone who I really felt I knew, could confide in, and could believe in. Of course, it didn't last. Nothing one believes in ever does. Love, friendships, everything fades.

"Nothing beautiful
Nothing beautiful lasts"

So, of course I am feeding them--I like his pets. His cats are sweeties. But, our friendship is pretty much lost, I'm afraid to say, and is likely irreperable.

I have, no longer, a best friend. I've known that for some time now, but I wanted to write the words. It makes it more real, which is probably a good thing. I need to deal, and move on. I can survive alone--it'll just hurt for awhile. For as long as I am alone, it will hurt. But, I will find people who love me, and the pain will die.

For now, I wish I could just be saved. Be happy again.

One day, when I'm older, I'll read back through these. And I'll laugh, or I'll cry, or maybe some of both.

And, I'll think of what has or hasn't happened to change my life.

Whoever you are, who is reading this now, the me-but-not-me, I hope that you are, and will forever feel all the passions, and that you are and will be happy. I hope that you have friends, and love, and that you know who you are, and are happy with what you've become.

Please--I am a part of you. Never forget me.

Find happiness. Love.

And, most important of all:

Be yourself.

I hope that life is better where you are...

"In the arms of the Angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the Angel
May you find some comfort here.
You're in the arms of the Angel
May you find some comfort here."

Good luck.

I love you.

Thank you, Nikki-chan, for carrying this message. You are my portal to the future.

"To infinity, and beyond..."

Jya-ne.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: November 22, 1998.

The first lyrics I quote are from the song "Nothing Beautiful" by The Odds. The second are from "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan.

As I recall, it did break my heart a little every time I went to Izzy's house alone to feed his pets. There were so many memories there, of a friendship and a closeness that I'd lost without quite understanding how or why.

The message to my future self at the end of the entry is a little strange to read--kind of sad, and kind of sweet. Some of my wishes for myself have come true. Others haven't. Some of these entries do make me feel sad for the girl I used to be, and some make me laugh with or at myself, depending. The quote from Toy Story at the end makes me smile.

All I can say to my past self is... I'm still working on it. I'm still unfinished. But things are a hell of a lot better now than they used to be. And I have hope that they'll only continue to get better. For now, it's a good place to be. It's a good place to start.

Nov. 19, 1998.

Why?

She's constantly ranting to me. All the time, about a million times a week. She rants to me about the same things, over, and over, and over, and over, and over. Stupid bitch won't listen, however, when I need to rant to someone. She talks at me, interrupts me, rants at me, yells at me, takes things out on me when she's in a bad mood. I sit and listen, and not to often do I brush her off. But she will not let me rant to her. She refuses to listen to what I have to say. I can't convey my pain to anyone by you, you know, Nikki-chan. You're the only one who ever, ever cares. The only one who ever listens to me.

Why can't she shut her damned mouth for once; just shut the fuck up and listen for a single time in her life?! She's such a selfish, stupid bitch. Doesn't she see that I'm dying in this Hell?! I am so lonely. I'm getting to the point where death is becoming almost preferable to life like I'm forced to live it now, and no one fucking cares! If I was suicidal, no one would fucking talk me out of it. Because no one would give a flying fuck that I was that unhappy, just like no one gives a flying fuck right now.

I hate this life. I hate lonliness. I hate being so unhappy. And I practically hate them. All of them. Izzy, Hannah, Mom, Dad, Colin... all of them.

At least I have you, though, ne? I don't know what I'd do without you, Nikki-chan. I really don't.

I'll tell you what I was trying to tell Mom. In fact, I'll tell you more. I trust you, so I feel comfortable telling you things. Not like with them, you know?

Well that improv class was a flop. I'm no good at it, for once thing, and, once again, I feel alienated as hell. No one notices that I exist. *bitter laughter* If I want to be ignored, I'll just hang around Dad more often. I get enough of that from him.

So, anyway, everyone knows everyone else by now. Everyone's outgoing, and friendly to everyone. Except for me. I'm ignored, I'm lonely, and I'm shy. I don't know how to start talking to them, and no one cares to try to make an effort to get to know me, at all.

I bet that, like most people, they think I'm stuck-up, or rude, or just plain stupid, or something equally horrible, when I'm not. Not at all. I'm just shy. I can't help it that I'm so shy.

Even that girl Izzy's friends with just ignores me and/or gives me these looks of distaste now, and I told her on the first day how I'm so awfully shy...

Maybe I'm just not a likeable person? Maybe that's why I have almost no friends. Why Alyssa and Izzy have essentially ditched me. Why the person who says I'm her God damned best friend treats me like less than shit.

Why I couldn't... no, why I can't make a friend to save my life. Maybe I'll always be alone. Right now, it seems impossible that it could be any other way.

I don't think that I'm an unlikeable person... I wish I had someone I could ask just that: am I likeable? But, I don't have anyone I could ever ask something like that.

I'm not joining drama again. I'm sure that Kate and all the others will be glad to see me gone. Who needs a person like me holding them back all the time, right? I'm sure that's all I ever do. I'm equally sure that, even if that isn't true, it is to them. That they all see me (at the rare times when they do see me) as an anchor of sorts, holding myself and everyone of them all down.

They're all going out after the last class, or the next week, to go bowling, or something like that. All I know is that I'm not going. I have no place with them. I doubt that they would notice or care if I disappeared before they all went off together, or if I didn't sign my name to the phone list. Or, if I told them that, no, I couldn't make it, I have too much homework.

No, I'm wrong. They'd care. I'm sure they'll be glad I didn't come along. A few of them would, at least, the others wouldn't even notice.

Even if I do sign the phone list, I bet that they don't ever call me. I'm, as I have stated before, a social leper. I have no place in this world. If I didn't like to be around people sometimes, I'd become a hermit. Then, no one would ever be bothered by me again. I'd be in my rightful place. Alone. Out of society.

I don't know how to put my feelings into words. I want someone who I can tell all this to who would listen, and would care, but, as I have said in the past, there is no one. I sincerely wonder if ever I will find someone?

How can anyone deal with lonliness like this? Well, that's one question I can begin to answer: some people, to get temporary fixes, drink, do drugs, and other such stupid things. Myself, I have my own methods. My "acting", and all. I know what I mean, so I needn't, I think, be more specific than that.

Know who the only person I've confided in who hasn't hurt me is? Dani. Isn't that interesting? Ah, well. Give her time.

I should really be working on that story for English, but I still have time to do that later, so I'm going to keep writing in you, for now.

I don't really think that I'm a bad, nor an unlikeable person. I hate this life, and I hate the way in which I'm forced to live it, but I don't hate me. What reason have I to? There's nothing wrong with me that others should treat me the way they do.

I will, I believe, deep down inside, when you get past the desolation, that I will eventually find people who will truly and unconditionally care about and love me for me, about whom I will also care, and equally.

I just have to keep looking, and keep hoping. They're out there somewhere. Someday, I'll find them.

All my love, Nikki-chan.

With all my Heart.

With all my Soul.

- Vale

Notes from 2010: November 19, 1998.

Minor Trigger Alert: The "acting" I refer to is, I'm pretty sure, cutting. I don't know why I still got skittish about saying it outright, after I'd mentioned it in at least one other entry. Notice how I separate it as somehow less fucked up than chemical addictions. I was still in the "I can stop when I choose to" mindset at this point. If only.

From the context, this entry is talking about my mother, and how I felt like she shut me down whenever I would try to tell her how bad I was feeling. From present tense, I can't say how much those feelings were legitimate, and how much I was overreacting. I do think it was a mix of the two. My mother does tend to shy away from conflict. And while I probably took her unwillingness to discuss how depressed I was feeling a bit too much to heart, to this day she does tend to forget that I was once suicidal--in part because I never told her much about it until after the feelings had passed, and in part because she simply can't stand to know that I considered killing myself. And I think that her need to not know, understandable as it is, played into her reaction at the time, when I would try to tell her how shitty I was feeling.

This is the first post where I say outright that I'm starting to feel like I'd rather not be alive, though I don't totally go there yet. But by this point it's on my mind, despite the fact that I claim later on that I don't hate myself. I was already more than halfway to full-blown self-loathing, if I wasn't already there.

"Ne" means "right" in Japanese. I use that in multiple entries.

The improv class I reference was an after-school thing I was trying at the time, run by a local theatre group, and I was feeling like epic fail. Instead of managing to be a whole different (read: super-outgoing) person and make friends in a group where I didn't know anyone--as I always hoped would happen--I was, as always, left feeling like the weird, shy, excessively quiet one who no one liked, and who everyone wished would just go away. I still suck ass at improv--not the most fun for someone who naturally needs time to think before they speak--so it probably wasn't the best choice of extracurricular, especially since I felt acutely uncomfortable and like an outcast in my day-to-day life. Sad to say, the improv class only exacerbated those feelings, and I didn't manage to make a real connection with anyone there, which made me feel all the more like a loser who would never "make a friend to save my life."

For the record, I have actually had people (to my face) interpret my shyness as me being stuck up, stupid, rude or aloof, all of which killed me when I was trying so, so hard to please and to be what I thought other people wanted me to be. I've also been called laid back, which never fails to amaze me, since it's the polar opposite of how I feel inside. I'm pretty much cool with the misinterpretations these days. It can still be irritating sometimes, in an eye-roll kind of way, but it doesn't fuck with my sense of self anymore. I'm mostly comfortable with being a shy person, and it's interesting how different people read that trait. Sometimes people even get it right.

One trait that has stuck with me is the tendency to read others' interpretations of me more negatively than they actually are. This isn't unusual for very shy people. Even today, I assume too easily that someone's had a negative reaction to me when they haven't, or a stronger negative reaction than they realistically have. Knowing that I tend to think that way helps me mitigate my negative mind-reading. But since I can't exactly ask most people "so, how much of a loser do you really think I am?" it can still sometimes be hard to gauge how much is misinterpretation on my part, and how much is real negative reaction on theirs. But at least I don't assume most people can't stand me anymore. That makes it a lot easier not to hate myself.

Near the end of the entry, I talk about finding a group of friends I fit in with, who care deeply about me. I was a big fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and there was nothing I wanted more than a family of friends like the Buffy/Xander/Willow/Giles quartet on the show. And if I'm completely honest, that's still something I want more than almost anything else--and have yet to find. I'd love to think it's still possible, but part of me thinks it's my version of the "one true love" myth: something that pop culture assures me can exist, is attainable, but that almost never happens in the real world.

Oct. 28, 1998. TRIGGER WARNING

TRIGGER WARNING

Sometimes I feel like I'm the most stupid, lazy person in the world. I'm not a good student, anymore. I wonder how many courses I'm failing, so far? Physics, I'm sure. Probably math. Maybe chem. Doing bad in German. Probably in English, history, and Life Skills, too. I feel like such a stupid, lazy little bitch, right now. I tried to cry, but I couldn't, really. I'm totally freaking out.

Yes, in my writing and façade, it seems like I'm almost fine, calm as a lake on a windless day, but I have yet to clean the tears off my face, I'm ready to break the window so it'll stop moving in the wind, I really need to scream and sob, and I'd be cutting myself up, if it weren't for my not wanting to have sliced-up arms and hands in my Hallowe'en costume on Saturday.

Also, a short time ago, I threw you across the room, which, unfortunately, knocked your cover right off, poor thing. I'm very sorry, Nikki-chan. That's my new name for you, BTW. It means diary, in Japanese. In Nihongo. I like it, I think it's cute. Kawaii!!! ^_^ *LOL* Well, I have to go translate old English for homework now, because my English sub's a bastard.

Jya-ne, Nikki-chan. *hugz*

- Vale

Notes from 2010: October 28, 1998. TRIGGER WARNING

TRIGGER WARNING:

So this is the first entry where I talk blatantly, if briefly, about cutting myself. I'm fairly certain I started self-injuring as a coping method near the beginning of eleventh grade, so it would still have been a pretty new thing for me when I wrote this entry.

Full disclosure: I got the idea to start cutting from a magazine article I read about people who did cut and why it was a bad thing. So even stories intended to deter people from engaging in unhealthy behaviours--which is part of what I'm trying to do here--don't necessarily have the effect the writer hopes they will. Nonetheless, I think it's important to admit that, while I recognize that cutting was (and, in the moments when I give in, still is) an addictive behaviour and a terrible, self-defeating coping mechanism, I also have to admit that in the worst moments of my pain--it did sometimes help. Not always. And it did nothing to deal with the underlying issues. It was a prime example of treating the symptom--the pain in that moment--but not the disease--the underlying depression that cutting couldn't take away.

I would never, never recommend self-injury of any kind as a way of trying to handle pain, for many reasons: Any relief is very temporary, and, if you draw blood, not worth the messy clean up. I was always afraid of the consequences (being forced into therapy? institutionalization? being forced to take medication? my family and few friends being horrified by me?) if someone caught me in the act or saw fresh cuts on my body. The scars--believe me--never go away. It is not bullshit to call SI addictive, and once you start it is very, very difficult to stop: it took me more than a decade to almost never cut anymore, and in bad moments the temptation is always there. The act of cutting can trigger suicidal thoughts at moments when you weren't actually thinking them yet. And, as I said, it does absolutely nothing to help you work through and move past the pain that makes you feel like hurting yourself in the first place.

But at the time... it was the only way I knew to help myself, as sad and awful and pathetic as that is. So I did it. I don't advocate it, and if you can convince yourself to never start at all, you'll save yourself the never-ending battle to stop for good. But SI was and is a part of me, for good or for ill. And I'm not going to hedge about that in this blog.

This is also the first entry where I mention finding it difficult to cry, even when I feel like I need to. I've read since then that that's not so unusual for a person who is severely depressed. I've never gotten back to that point again, and I'm thankful for that, because it would scare the hell out of me if I did. For me, it was a sign of how bad things were getting inside my head.

On a slightly lighter note, naming my diary and referring to it as "you" is something I picked up from the book Go Ask Alice. I read that for the first time when I was 12, and re-read it any number of times as a teenager. It broke my heart and left a huge impression on me, and even though drugs have never been my issue, I felt a huge affinity for Alice and the shit she was going through. Hell, maybe that's part of why I'm blogging my diaries today, since reading her journals meant so much to me at the time.

Finally: Yes, I did actually write out anime-style happy faces by hand in my diary. Yes, I do have to snicker at just how frigging nerdy that is.

Sept. 30, 1998.

Now it has been an eternity. Will the pain ever stop? I wish, sometimes, that everyone would just leave me alone, forget about me. I wish that no one knew I existed. I think that would actually make everything less lonely than it is, right now. If everyone would just stop bullshitting me, stop pretending to care. It'd be nice.

I'm still lonely.

Will I ever feel loved?

Sometimes, I wish I could just disappear. I... well, part of me is serious when it thinks about running away. When it thinks about going with Izzy and his friend to her mansion, with her millions, and hiding out there. Most of me know that would just cause problems, but part of me... part of me wishes I could. Really, really does.

Even if only for the ability to totally start over. Completely. Then, though, I'd have to be utterly alone. To start totally new. But, for now, it'd be close enough.

I hate my life (not living, just being so alone), school, lonliness, and having no one to truely open up to, who would listen to me, then open up right back.

Oh well. I have homework, now. I hate school so much... it's Hell on Earth. Fuck it all. I hate it, hate it, hate it.

Jya-ne.

- Vale

Aug. 30, 1998.

Hard to believe that it's only been five days since my last entry. It feels like an eternity.