Wednesday, June 2, 2004

Nevermind...
Okay, nevermind, about not writing the poem for Writer's Workshop because I would get sent to guidance. Apparently, someone read this page and reported me to guidance. O_o

I want to cry because that was so unfair. So what I have low self-esteem and get depressed very easily? So what I didn't smile for the yearbook picture? So what I stay at school until about 6 pm so I don't have to be home? Argh! >rips out hair< Are they so stupid that they think I have the worst problems because I do all those things? I am, by far, better off than some of my friends.

Ok, most of you reading this are probably wondering what the heck I'm talking about, so let me start from the beginning.

Last night I slept about 3 hours. I am still missing about 18 hours of sleep from last week. I hate insomnia. Anyway, I was in a bad mood. My universal locker cut off half my research report and now it's going to be a day late, my files in computers class were erased, and I lost my CD that I listen to during Writer's Workshop. Stereotypical bad day. Well, at lunch, some of my friends were discussing poetry and I joined in because I like poetry and other forms of writing. When the topic moved to what genres we write, I said mostly angst. They didn't know what angst meant. Not knowing a dictionary definition for it, I said dark, depressing, some character death or suicide, close to tragedy. It may not be exactly angst, but it does not fit in many other categories either. Right after I said suicide and death, one of them asked if I seriously wrote about that. Well, duh, I wouldn't have said if it was otherwise. When they asked why, I wasn't exactly sure how to answer, so I said emotional and imaginative relief. Then they said they thought only depressed people wrote stuff like that >sweatdrop<. So I said everyone gets depressed at least once. One of them had the nerve to say "oh no, Rachel, you're not the type to get depressed. You're always so happy and funny." >eyetwitch< Anyway, this went on and on, until we got back to my topics to write about. They brought up the suicide thing again and denied that I would write about something like that. >vein throbbs in temple< Then one of them asked if I felt suicidal because they seem to be stuck on the fact that people write about how they feel. I said "not at this particular moment." Mind you, I did not think before I spoke. That right then would have been a good time to walk away, but I didn't because I thought they would let it drop. After a very long awkward silence, they went back to sharing poetry and I was enjoying my soda. Then one girl decided to ask me if I remembered Domonic, a friend of mine who committed suicide when I was in sixth grade. I said he was my friend, of course I remember him. The same girl asked if my suicide writing was based around him. I said no. By now, I was kinda ticked off. She asked if I would ever commit suicide. That did it: ticked off + bad day = chance of explosion. So I calmly stated "I have already tried three times", gut up, and walked away. Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting at my usual table and I finally realized what I had done. I never should have said that, I really shouldn't have.

Well, during last period, I was called to guidance because apparently one of the lunch staff heard what I was saying. Not good. One partial anxiety attack on the way to the office later, I was seated in front of my guidance counselor. I tried to dodge the subject. When it came down to it, I realized that there were only two things to do: tell the truth or remain silent. Remaining silent would have probably gotten me in more trouble. Though, I did come up with a neat escape plan out the window...Anyway, we talked and I said this had come up last year as well, and that it wasn't really important anymore, I was on anti-depressants, blah blah blah. She asked me if I had thought about suicide recently. I immediately said no. According to her, I answered to fast. O_o So she asked for the truth. I said not for a year. She said she didn't believe me. She said if I wrote about it so often, I must be thinking about it. o_O She said she was going to call my mom because she thought I should go to therapy. This lady has to be on some type of drug! I basically begged her not to. She called anyway and now I probably have to go back to therapy.

I hate therapy. You talk to someone you know nothing about except for their name and occupation. As I see it, therapists are professionally nosey. I really dislike nosey people.

Who said I wanted help right now? I certainly didn't. Who was there to hear me when I did ask for help? None of the people who are forcing it upon me now, that's for sure. People are so stupid sometimes...>sighs<

~Lumi ^_^

Current Mood: moderately pissed
Current Music: Dream Theater - A Change Of Seasons
Quote: "I repeat, this is not a drill. This is the apocalypse. Please exit the hospital in an orderly fashion. Thank you." - P.A. System in Dogma
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