i remember my story and i think its at least interesting and at worst whiny. i am in university. as i approached today and saw the sign i felt i was approaching vegas. i dont love it here but im glad im here because i graduated from a degree mill high school with little hopes for the future, a little school in a tiny one-layer mall, underneath a spinning studio and squished between two graveyards. i was there because i couldnt attend school. anorexia and covid had destroyed my body. i wasnt even that skinny by the end of it. my metabolism took a blow for my heart during stupid covid. i felt i was meant to die then and now i drag myself everywhere like i was never supposed to be here.
my first day in college, in a creative major, was spent at relative ease until i found out that the reason why the famous library (which i was not particularly eager to explore, in all honesty) was shut down for the day is because a girl that went to middle school with me died of a heart attack. people made light jokes about it. i saw it as an omen. and it was an omen. i was raped that august by someone i trusted and loved and i stayed right there.
i went to school and cried, cried and cried. cruel irony, i had been in the real world for less than a month. before that, my life was spent in anorexic half-bliss. working out six or seven hours a day, that summer i drank for the first time. those six months i drank myself half to death every other weekend. i started going out more to ease the guilt from the drinking. i dont think my mind ever recovered from the sludgy, awful horrors of those months. my mind is scattered and i think of it every day. the drive back home. the sugar free chocolates i used to eat, my biweekly trips to the barber salon where they shaved my head clean for five dollars, six if i wanted two lenghts.
the person who violated me is my confidant to this day. another cruel irony. i have no one else, even now. i have good friends but i keep a secret that only this person knows. and whoever reads, but nobody will. i wish i was free to fall in love and begin a normal relationship. it was within the span of that year that i started body modification. i could not stand the sight of myself. now i can, at least. hes still friendly and kind. its fucked up. i guess he never meant it. isnt that just a horrible thing to think?
its been two years and i dropped out and came here, to the next best thing, to study psychology and figure out how to rationalize things. its fun but i wish i was studying something creative or history, my white whale. i guess im happy. im not really, my peers are graduating this damned year. and then what.
its fine. it really is. ill make it out alive unless i dont. i cant care. i care if i go to hell, though. i care an awful lot. im nervous about that, im an impure soul that cant clean itself. im evil and bad. im one of the examples they show in class, the ones they demonize. my heart is broken, my soul is dirty and spent, thirsty for God, no God to hold me.
ill get my teeth fixed this monday. i tried to convince the dentist to give me fangs. not possible. my mouth is small and cant fit bigger teeth. when will i get anything i want. wtf-.
first week of school has been awful and this semester seems to be looking terribly bitter. bittersweet. theres things to do. i dont want to give, but people still take. nobody gives, so i have to take.
feeling ridiculous. dreaming of my middle school crush and somehow it hurts. everything stupid.
