'kay

I will probably never post on this blog again.

I have moved to deviantART.com and I will probably stay there for the rest of my internet life.

Yes this is sad. Dunno why.

Here's my DA: [link]

Go there if you haven't already. :D

Psychiatric Hospital?

Well.

Last Saturday, I talked to my counselor, and he told me that if Zoloft doesn't work within 2 weeks...

I am going to be sent to a sort of psychiatric ward. Other kids my age will be there, some of which will have problems like mine. People at the place will watch me and find out more about me.

My thoughts?
I sure hope Zoloft doesn't work, because I would love a chance to be observed by lots of people, to get away from my family, and meet other kids with problems.

I wonder what would happen if I lied and said that it wasn't working.
Last night I was feeling pretty bad. I would have cut if I hadn't lost my razor.

I can't believe I lost it because I had it hidden somewhere, and I kept finding it when I didn't want it, but now it's lost.
I mean, I guess it's good since I can't cut even if I want to, but it's not that I want to cut as much as I need my friend. The blade is my friend.
Losing the blade was like losing Frankie, the dead spider who hung from the ceiling. I named him Frankie and talked to him once in a while.
But then he disappeared, and I am still mourning for him. When I look up at the ceiling and see that Frankie isn't there, I feel bad. I miss him.
I miss my blade. I talked to it a little, too. (usually just terms of endearment because I loved it) I have kissed my blade. I use it to talk to my blood, too (more terms of endearment, but more lustful and more... loving). So I've lost two friends because I lost it...

April

It's April.

I shall be 14 in less than 3 weeks. Woohoo.

I feel horrible. Zoloft doesn't work, okay? It's not working.

They need to try something else. Maybe some kind of acupuncture.

Oh yeah, bloodletting! That would make me feel better.

Heck, maybe the reason it worked in the Middle Ages was because cutting is addicting, therefore you feel better after you get cut...

Either way, I shouldn't cut, but I will if I still feel bad tonight or something.

I'll try to go to school tomorrow. I'll actually make an effort.

If anyone asks where I've been, I'll say, "I don't have to tell anyone." and they'd better leave me alone.

If they don't, I'll tell them that if they cared about me enough to ask me where I was, they should have been able to stop me from getting addicted to cutting in the first place.

I feel like getting angry at someone or something.

Wow, it took less than 2 hours to be finished with what I was doing with the Internet. See, I can cut down on it. I'll learn to cut down...

Cut... down...

DA is fun.

I uploaded things to DA.

http://shanadian.deviantART.com

Uh... Yeah.

Poetry and Chicken Lady.

Chicken Lady is weird.

I am going to spend a lot more time on DA now that my brother unblocked it. Yay.

Nothing else to say, really.

Dream Home

http://www.directhomefind.com/dream-home/index.php

My brother showed this website to me.

Then my other siblings did it. My sister has a very rich-person home, my other sister has a house that looks just like her room (really!) and my brother apparently got something similar.

I would have posted my results, but there was an HTML issue. So I can't. :(
Tres amusant!

Well... Um... Yeah, that's it for now.

My Zoloft dosage was increased, but I was still feeling depressed today or yesterday or something. Now I don't remember. I figure it'll take a day or two to kick in, but maybe not...
Well, that's all for now...

Stuff White People Like

I checked out that blog today. Apparently, people either love it or hate it. I hold it up as proof that people are messed up.
If they person was white and made a blog called 'stuff black people like' they would be condemned.
If they were black and made a blog called 'stuff black people like' then people would like the blog.
If they are black and made this blog, they are being let off, and some people would call them 'race-minded' (like, they are obsessed with race and color and stuff), while others would laud it.
If they are white and making this blog (which is the truth, I think), then people are just confused.
"Why would a white person make racial stereotypes about whites?"
Um, why can black comedians make stupid racial jokes?

The blog has some truths in it, though. White people do like 'gifted children'. But who doesn't?
I personally think that the blog isn't really a good idea. It's making fun of white people. If it was doing the same to any other racial group, it would be condemned. White people can be bashed and it's okay because you know, white people need to be bashed.
Yeah right.

I know something else white people like, at least the younger ones. Pretending to be black.
That is, acting out black stereotypes.
Even I do it sometimes, without meaning to. I would slap myself in the face if I let myself realize that I was doing it.

What else was I going to say today?
I forgot to take Zoloft two days in a row, and it sure f***ed up my mood and stuff. It wasn't working enough, but it was making a good difference.

I like the ease with which I laugh now. Before I was taking Zoloft, it was harder to laugh. I did laugh, but not as often.

It's nice, laughing. I am annoyed that I missed school today because 1. I can only be legally absent 3 more days this year and 2. we were doing the mile run today, and now I'll have to stay after school sometime and do it.

I think I'm going to call Rocky when school is let out. Or maybe right when the bus passes by our house... Or something. Whatever.

Gosh, I'm tired. My sister and I were going to walk home from the center of town yesterday, but our brother was driving by and picked us up instead. That's good. I didn't want to walk 4 miles. I have walked about 6 miles, and that took me 4 hours or so. I'm not sure, actually. I know it took me almost exactly 4 hours. I left at 7 pm (about) and came home at 11 pm exactly. I walked across the highway, crossed a stream (my shoes and pants were wet for the rest of the trip), found a road (I remember there were a million billion leaves on it), walked on it until I found the road that eventually led to a certain person's house, and walked there for a long time. I was exhausted, but walking on roads actually isn't that bad. It was pretty nice, actually. I almost got lost a couple times, but I enjoyed walking the woods. I was exhausted when I reached my destination, but not too bad. I spent a few minutes sitting in the woods (probably where I picked up the three ticks I found the next morning) and then realized where I had to go. So I went to the Kingdom Hall, and stayed there. I planned to sleep there, but it was so darn cold, and I decided to go home.

So I walked home from there. It's maybe a mile or two from there to our house, but it took longer, I think, because I kept ducking everything cars came. A guy had already tried to pick me up, and I wasn't going to be talked to anymore.

Using that experience, and the fact that I walk maybe two miles per hour, I decided that I and my sister would be home right before our mom, and it would take two hours.

Oh yeah, my mom started her job on Monday. She loves it. That's why she couldn't pick us up at the library or anything.

And we get to do it again tomorrow! Because I am staying after for my science teacher. I have no idea what's going on, what we are talking about, and I missed like 4 chapters, so I am just not doing well.

And I want to know what she knows about me.
She's the one who heard Rocky talking about me.

Hotness Scale (wooo!)

According to Rocky, his new girlfriend is an 8 on the hotness scale. I find that amusing.
I could get Rocky in SO much trouble...
But I won't because I'm his friend, or I consider myself so, and I have decided to stop being mean to him. I will let myself be cruel to D, but Rocky is getting the nice treatment, because he did something nice for me a couple weeks ago.

We were still talking about the hotness scale when Daboss appeared, walking towards the bus. When he got on, I said, "*first name* is a 9 and a half."

They didn't hear me.
Exasperated, I said, "I just said something funny, and you totally ignored it!" and so I repeated myself (a bit too loudly) "*first name* is a 9 and a half."
At first they were silent, but then they all started giggling like mad and I laughed too.
Stephen, who could not help but overhear his name, smiled, hiding his confusion (I am good enough at mindreading to see that he was hiding confusion), and OMG he just looked SO cute when he smiled, so I really have to say that he's a 10 when he smiles. :D
Then I moved my stuff and talked to him... For a minute or two. His sister got on and stole him, but I was okay with it.
Darn, I forgot to take my Zoloft today! I'll take it in a few minutes or so. I'm just quickly blogging since I had a good day. :D

I heard that the girl who's pregnant, Katie, might have to get an abortion, but I also heard that her mom doesn't even know yet. That's horrible. A school you don't even attend anymore knows all about your pregnancy, but not your mom.

If I was pregnant, I'd tell a select few, but I would not tell my mom until I was three months pregnant. At that point, I would be pretty sure that I couldn't hide it anymore, and I would not have the hope of a miscarriage or anything.

I know what my April Fool's Day joke will be. It should work pretty well. And April Fool's Day is one week from tomorrow. YAY! I LOVE that day! It's my favorite holiday!!!! Poisson d'Avril!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry, I just love April Fool's Day so much!!!

Okay, what else do I have to say? I'm going to school all this week.


I'm not going to get sick again for the rest of the year! YAHOO!

Easter... Huh?

I don't know where that title came from.

I love this time of year because I loooooooove chocolate, especially Cadbury Creme Eggs. Those are heaven, and I just, like, drool over them when I see them or even think of them because they are sooo good.

I don't celebrate Easter. I don't celebrate lots of holidays. The only thing that you could call CLOSE to 'celebrating' is the Memorial, which happened last night. It corresponds to the Jewish holiday of Passover, at which Jesus had his Last Supper, and passed out bread and wine, to represent his body and blood, which is, by the Jewish calender, Nisan 14. Basically, we go the the Kingdom Hall, sit there and listen to the guy speaking about things (if you've never heard it before, you'd enjoy listening to it), look up scriptures and read them, and then pray and pass around the symbols.

And sing a few songs.

If you like religion, if you believe in God and Jesus being His Son, then yes, you would enjoy this, you would appreciate it.

All it did for me is convince me that every single religion on Earth is a fake, silly mythology that I will pay no mind to. At least all of the 'Christian' religions.
I am a scientific person. Far too scientific to believe that Adam and Eve could have created the whole human race (actually, more like Noah and his sons and their wives). There are so many skin colors, eye colors, and hair colors, and it is impossible, in my opinion, for three men from the same father and three women from different families to have done that.
Bottom line, it makes no sense. I can't believe that. I also cannot believe in a 'Tree of Everlasting Life' and a 'Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil'.
I can believe in a God, but that is my own wishful thinking, my own wishful desire for there to be something more. But I cannot believe in the rest of this faith that my family puts their trust in. If it will make me be like my mom and brother and dad, I'm not doing it.

My mom, I am realizing, grew up in a very dysfunctional family and time period. As a result, she is, without meaning to, sexist, bordering on racial stereotyping, and has a childish mind. She isn't racist, but she says stuff like "I think I'm a black person inside" and I understand WHY she would say that, but it's a result of believing racial stereotypes. She is sexist in that she has absolutely NO idea that gender roles are supposed to be reversing, that she can take any sort of stand against Dad, and she complains about his irresponsibility while refusing to retaliate because she wants to be a submissive, humble wife.
This is because Jehovah's Witnesses approve of this. They are sexist. Child abuse? No. There is nothing of the sort going on. Sexism, yes.
Women are the ones who usually clean the Kingdom Hall. Families are given cleaning assignments, but it ends up, almost every time, being the women who do the work. When major cleaning goes on, the brothers do outside work and maintenance while the sisters do cleaning inside.

Okay, that rant is over.

My mom is very childish because she tells me how Easter is 'disgusting!' and it's because it's about fertility and 'body parts' which yes, is kinda disgusting, but honestly, this isn't Victorian times. My mom needs to learn how to handle things that have to do with reproduction, and maybe just life in general. I can't believe she managed to be married twice, have five kids, and live more than half the century and STILL have problems with talking about things like that. Because of my 'prude' upbringing, I can't even say 'penis' even though everyone else can.

Wow, this is a lot of complaining. I think this is what I am supposed to be telling my counselor...

I hope my Zoloft dosage will be increased because I don't think it's working enough. It's helping, but I don't feel that much better.

I just can't stand my cutting addiction. I need to cut. I haven't cut since Mom found out except for three marks, and they aren't even serious or anything, but I can't handle this! I need to cut so badly! If I don't do it, I'll go more insane and be more depressed and I just want to give in to my addiction! I want to just let go and live in my story, my writing, and my cutting. All else will be taken care of if I just let go and write. If I had a computer in my room, I could write all I needed to or whatever, and I would cut, and I could live in my room. I would eat, sleep, and live in my room. I want to isolate myself, but it's impossible because of the annoying fact that I do not have a computer in my room. I will have one soon, though. We have a new computer to use, so I will take the old one, and I can finally do my work. But for some reason, my brother just is not changing the computers.

I want my cutting back. I have my blade in my room. All I have to do is forget what Rocky said to me. If I could just forget what he said... "When you hurt yourself, it hurts others, maybe even more than it hurts you."

(super interesting title here) This is very interesting

I forgot, apparently, to mention that a girl I used to go to school with is pregnant.

She is not even 13 and a half, according to Coolbeans, and she is very small, thin, short, and overall I can't believe she's pregnant. I mean, I always knew that she would be having sex very early, but pregnant?

No way. I remember going to dance class with her in second grade. Holy crap, we were seven years old. I remember I always thought she was pretty, although her skin and hair were so light and so pale they were almost the same color. So pale. Just for the record, most people hated her, and I kind of hated her too.

She went to school with me in first and second grade, I think, at least second grade. Some time, maybe third grade or fifth grade or something, when I was homeschooled, she moved to a nearby town that was still in our high school's district. So I didn't see her until I went to the Junior High, and she was in my homeroom. She was annoying, and I found her kind of stupid, although she was in my high English class, so I guess she couldn't have been that stupid. (then again, knowing which town she came from, maybe she was the smartest in the class) Then she moved away. Supposedly, her father was in prison, and she was put up for adoption. I felt a little bad for her, but I disliked her enough to not care much. I haven't heard anything about her, and I forgot about her mostly until yesterday, when Coolbeans told me that she was pregnant. The father is a cousin of a boy in our grade at our school. I just can't believe her.

I think I always knew she would be one of the first girls to lose their virginity, but I really didn't expect her to get pregnant. I didn't think anyone who wasn't in at least 9th grade would.

I would stop hurting myself and go on a healthy diet if I was pregnant. I would probably end up losing some of my body-fat (my BMI is up to 23, which I am not happy about) and my scars would heal, and then I could never hurt myself, knowing that I had to take care of my baby.

I wonder if the girl who is pregnant is going to keep her baby, or maybe get an abortion. I don't know if it's illegal in Massachusetts or not, but I don't think she would. I just can't believe it. I'm in shock. She's pregnant. I went to elementary school with her. She was in a five-day summer-camp-like thing group with me (you know which camp I mean, right?).

I assumed that we would all go to ninth grade virgins, and at worst, some people might lose it over the summer. I am pretty sure that most of the guys are totally not ready for that, anyways. I only know one guy who is growing a beard or anything like that, and Rocky, the so NOT epitome of masculinity, well, I won't say anything mean about him, besides my firm prediction that he will make a girl pregnant before we graduate from high school. I am giving him 50 dollars if he hasn't. I'm not even kidding. I am positive that some girl will have Rocky's kid before he's even 18.
If he has more than one kid, he owes me 50 dollars. Especially if it's by different girls.

I am being so mean. :)

SPRINGTIME!

When I was little, I spelled 'spring' S-P-I-N-G invariably. I never noticed my mistake. My mother never corrects me with things like that.

I wish she would.

I was talking to Coolbeans and Realjimi (I think those are the right nicknames) today--girl talk. D and Rocky weren't on because D was sick ALL week so inside I was like DAMMIT! I missed all of this non-D time! and Rocky stayed after this afternoon. (he was supposed to kiss his new girlfriend today, but he didn't)

So, the only guys on the bus were our busdriver and Strawley, who is actually a really nice guy if you see past his being a boy. (let's face it, the girls on the bus aren't very accepting of there being guys on) He was a good friend in sixth grade, and I missed him in seventh grade, and now that I'm in eighth grade, I'm glad he's here. He has a kind of awkward nice-ness about him that I like. He's taller than me, so I feel intimidated, but he is not in High classes and he's in the grade below mine, so I feel above him. And he looks and acts tough, so it evens out to me respecting him as another person, although I feel enough self-respect so that I don't just completely defer to him. That's a good type of friendship, if you ask me.
Note: I have never liked Strawley and I never will. And anyone who knows him should know why he's named Strawley. In fact, I have two reasons.

Okay, anyways, I was complaining about my Mom (mostly to get off the topic of cutting myself and stuff) and of course what has bothered me most recently is her very hands-off approach to telling me stuff about being a girl. I can't believe one day last year, she's like 'I was doing laundry and it looked like you got your period..." and I'm like "Yeah," and she's like "Did you find all the stuff you needed?" and I'm like, "Yeah," and she's like, "Okay, that's good." and we NEVER speak of it again. Not to mention that she never taught me how to shave my legs or anything. I taught myself (no, that did not start my cutting, although that did probably play a part in my choosing to cut with a razor).

I may have just lost all of my male readers.
That's okay. (guys, you don't need to comment to say you haven't been turned off of this blog, even if you feel you must say it)
I told the girls how our principal hugged me (one of them dared suggest kissing, and we ALL freaked) and asked me if I lost weight. I said, joking, "Gosh, I didn't think he was lookin' at me!" They actually said to me, "Isn't he MARRIED with kids?" and I'm like, "Yes!!!" I got to relive the complete weirdness of it.
Well... It's my mom's fault. She asked my male teachers to be like dads for me, and maybe she or one of them mentioned it to our principal. Or maybe he... Um, I won't say that.

I feel like my male teachers are all noticing me... My math teacher is just so... extra nice to me... My English teacher, well, he's pretty normal. He's just like my dad... It's creepy. Let's not discuss the Tech teacher of last year. Who I will be facing in a few short weeks... *ugh*
I did dare face him once to mention that I heard that Bobby Fischer died (he had heard of it also) but I am still a little scared of him.
It is a natural fear of him, though. I am enjoying this fear because there is little else in this world that I am 'afraid' of. My 'phobias' which are my intrusive thoughts are irrational fears anyways. I am afraid of walking around the dark, though. I am paranoid, actually. I am afraid that zombies of the night are walking up the steps after me. I want to turn around, to prove that they aren't there, but I am running up the stairs too fast; I'm too scared. I do a sharp hairpin turn to get to my room, if I'm fast enough, the zombies won't be able to follow. And my door, I have to find the door, get in, and close it fast so that the zombies can't get me. And they don't.

However, to find the door and avoid crashing into some dark, hard thing, I must slow to nearly stopping, to find the door in the dark, and then, so as to not brush my hand against the pink fiberglass (the 'cotton candy to never eat'), I must move my hand slowly around to find the lightswitch. The slowness nearly kills me, when the zombies are after me still, still coming, and if I don't hurry, they will grab my ankles and I will be taken away. Awaaaaaaaaay.

That was no fictionalization, no flourishing of words (besides my normal flourishing). That is exactly what I feel when I run up the stairs in the dark to my room. The zombies are coming.


Maybe since it's spring now, the zombies will stay in their graves.

School=Echh

This morning, or maybe last night, I either didn't set my alarm or I shut it off before it went off. Either way, I went back to sleep, and I don't really want to face my mom. I don't know where she is, but she's out and it's pretty late in the day, so I guess I'll take a shower and go to sleep at some point.

I took my Zoloft early again today. 3 pm. I figure I can take it in the morning tomorrow. Like, 5 or 6. I don't like this... It feels wrong. I feel like I'm doing something very wrong, although I've taken only one pill a day, so I am fine. I did feel very cheery this morning, but it wore off quickly.

I was reading Helter Skelter: The True Story of the Manson Murders. I feel a strange attraction to Manson's image. Like... something about his face and overall being is magnetic. And I agree that Squeaky Fromme looks like my mom.

It said that Manson was 5'2". I am that height. Last night, I stood up and just looked into the air in front of me and looked at the image of Manson, in his full body mug shot, like in the lineup, and I just looked into the air and was able to see Manson there. It was weird.

Then again, it was like 11:30 at night, so that could explain some things.

Death.

Is is just me, or are a lot of things dying lately?

Bleh, it's just me. I wish I was dead. That's why I feel that way.

I took my Zoloft early, around 7 or something. It's not working. I think I'll take it in the morning tomorrow.

Not wise? Probably. But it should be fine. I have an extremely low dose, anyways. If I took 25 mg at say, eleven pm last night, another 25 mg at 7 tonight, and then another 25 at 5 in the morning, that's not too bad.

According to Wikipedia, some guy who took 250 mg of Zoloft went crazy and killed his wife. I figure that if I NEED 50 or more mg of Zoloft, then it won't be too bad if I take 25 mg more than 8 hours apart.

At least twice now, I have controlled the urge to take two or three pills at one time. That's not a good sign because now it's like I'm at high risk for drug abuse. Great. Well, I already thought about that stuff. I won't get addicted to drugs because I am far too vain of my great mind. I can't let drugs ruin it. My brain won't get ruined by cutting.

Oh yeah, and I stole a razor from the bathroom (my mom didn't know it was there) and I found some scissors and made it Dangerous. I removed some skin on my palm (not much, and it didn't even bleed or sting very much) and made two cuts in my right arm. I was just playing with the safety razor, anyways.
It didn't make me feel very good.

The other thing I have to say is in my deviantART journal. It's very creepy...

I think Charles Manson was REALLY insane. But it's not surprising that he thought he heard messages in Beatles songs. I mean, it DOES sound like they are trying to tell us things.
I dunno what. I will never believe any conspiracies or anything.

The other day, I got a good insult in at my sister.
I said how I looked up pictures of people with psoriasis, and how it's weird that people in commercials never show their ps', so I was looking at the pictures.
"They really aren't that bad," I said. "Of course, not much looks bad after I've seen your face."
She just smiled at the insult and said, "Good one." My sister is SO annoying to insult because she just smiles and praises me. Um, STUPID.

Stress

I'm stressing out right now because I think I feel like cutting myself.

I found a razor in the bathroom drawer. I didn't take it because I am actually trying to quit cutting.

But if something happens, if I am stressed out and I need to hurt my mother or someone else, I am taking the razor.

Mom should have taken the blade. Take the blade away.

Well, it doesn't matter. I have scissors in my room.

I am suffering from withdrawal now.

I CAN resist the urge easily enough right now. I don't know if the urge will get stronger or not. It probably will. I have amazing self-control, I just never use it. I don't want to quit cutting, anyways. I am trying, but I don't want to. The blood... the pain... the shivering... I like all of it. The physical pain is something I love. I feel love for my pain.

Come back to me... pain... Come back...

I should have gone to school today, but I didn't because I just didn't plain want to, and I was too tired. I'm going tomorrow, and then I will NEED to make sure my friends are there for me... At least Rocky. He has to promise me that he will help me quit cutting.

The first thing to do is promise that I can call him when I feel like cutting and he will talk me out of it.
More than that will be arranged later. Maybe we should go (as friends) to that roller skating place... Or somewhere else, I dunno. Roller skating is awesome, you know. It is really good. I haven't done it in forever, but you know what, maybe Rocky will teach me to rollerblade. I always used to wear those silly roller skates that have two wheels on either side, and Rocky should teach me something. I would like that...
If he thinks it'd be too much like a date, he can take Ciel too. That kid has been better lately. I think Rocky told him to be nice to me. Or maybe he's not so bad after all... I guess even jerks can be my best friends...

I don't think I really 'like' Daboss anymore. I mean, he's awesome and I hope we are friends forever, but he's just too... good, unavailable, and nice. People who are too nice are just... they drive me crazy. I need a bad guy like Rocky.
But I swear, I'd lick our chicken Bucky's fluffy butt before I went out with Rocky.

Okay, now I'm laughing... :D

Somebody's B-Day...

It is the sixteenth of March, and, Best Friend Who's Birthday is Today, I am working on your present. I didn't finish it because I was busy yesterday, and I will be busy today, but I think I can have it done today. I will stay up late if I have to.

My brother came home last night. Around 9:30 or so. It was good to see him. He doesn't have his goatee anymore. :( Just kidding, I think he looks fine without it. He, I, and our dad are going bowling this evening. Somewhere. Yay! I like bowling with my brother. I don't do much stuff with my dad, so I guess I will enjoy it. My dad and brothers are going to a place that I think is a bar where they will drink.

I wonder who the designated driver will be...

Probably the elder brother. I am more likely to believe that the younger one and my dad could get drunk, but whatever. It will be a nice 'male bonding' thing.

I will not drink any alcohol until the 50th anniversary of Star Trek. I'll be old enough to drink by then, and I don't mind waiting the extra time. I'll meet up with Honk! and other Star Trek friends (if we're still in touch) IRL and we will open some champagne to celebrate. 50 years of Star Trek!

I wonder if The Shat and Spock and any of the others will still be around. I mean, it's... eight, nine more years. I don't know if they can last. Here's to hope that they will get to see their golden anniversary.

I guess I can't commit suicide until 2016... Darn it!

I think that the Zoloft does work. It is easier to banish the dark thoughts from my mind, but the rest of the my mind is working normally. Cool.