Dread and paranoia.
02.05.09
E23:58
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Crap. Today hasn't been terribly fun, woke up to find Ye Olde Period had arrived, as indicated by it's usual favourite sign: Big Fat Mother Cramp of Doom, the sort that basically incapacitates one for a day or so. Myself not always being the brightest thing ever spawned, decided to pop a couple of Tylenol, shove a bottle of 3 Aleve in my pocket, and ride off to school at 6:45, as is my custom as of late, to do exercise: BAD IDEA. VERY bad idea, seeing as the exercises only exacerbated the crampings, resulting in my prompt collapsing on one of Matt's couches upon my arrival there and not moving until about 2:00 PM, after which I left to go home and pick up my younger brother from junior high. Indeed, no classes for Sho. But that's not what I'm writing about. Some of you may have picked up that one reason why I haven't been nearly so prolific nor frequent in my blogging is health concerns, I haven't been doing very well recently, and it's starting to manifest physically: frankly, I don't look healthy, and it's showing most prominently in my eyes, in the shape and the colour. They're frequently bloodshot, which is strange given I do not consume drugs of any sort save my medications and vitamins, don't drink regularly, etc...however, I know I do not get enough sleep. The main issue here is shape: they seem to have altered slightly, become more almond, smaller...I don't know, throughout the day my mother asked me if I had been crying (I hadn't, nor was close to at all) and my father was worried, talking about the colossal bags under my eyes. It was all just kind of a minor annoyance until my father began to become palpably suspicious: "Are you still losing weight?" "Uh, yeah, it's occasionally a side-effect of regular exercise." "Are you eating?" "Enough." So now both my father and mother are looking at me, scrutinizing me and the way I eat. Because recently, I haven't been eating as much, for a variety of reasons, mostly unrelated to weight, at least consciously: frankly, I haven't been hungry (which I know to be a side-effect of stress in regards to myself), braces very much limit what I can eat because my teeth are tender plus I'll invariable have to brush immediately following, due to the clear braces on top if nothing else, etc...I know starving oneself isn't a terribly effective weight-loss technique at this point, hence I see no purpose in employing it. But my parents' behavior and over-concern, being able to see the wheels turning in their heads leads me to the very real conclusion of suspicion, suspicion that I may be visiting a psychiatrist soon; this is only confirmed by an argument my mother and I had yesterday, her talking about how my anxiety is going to become too much for me, how I'm going to have no choice but to seek "help", how sad it'll make her to hit rock-bottom, when I realize I need help...dammit mother, I'm not sick. I've spoken of this before, because it's been going on for years-I'm different than my mother, or pretty much anyone else she's ever met. I function and think fundamentally different than her. Apparently, this means I need Prozac, Paxil, or any other one of those things. This is another reason why I'm so desperate to get out of my house, hearing these things from you're family, that you're sick in not so many words, cannot possibly be a healthy environment. The only hopes I have to bolster me are that I'm 18, meaning they cannot force anything on me, and that Matt will stand with me. The age thing isn't foolproof though, if they were able to convince someone that I wasn't acting in my best interests, then I could lose all ability to make decisions for myself...and if this does occur, if they try to fuck with my head again, make it what they think is "right", there is no doubt in my mind that they will try to coerce me into it; cut off Internet, cut off phone...no, I'm not overreacting: I've written of my past experiences with psychological sorts: highly unpleasant and resulted in my fun ordeal with drug withdrawal at age 12-3. I'm NOT going back. Because doctors are for sick people, and I'm not sick. How idiotic it is to have to live in fear of your family plotting against you secretly, because they've done the same bloody thing before behind your back and were just enough indiscreet about it for me to find out. I'm scared.
chronos
Ekairos
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