I want to see a reaction.
As I progress through The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath I am constantly reminded of myself through the emotions of Esther Greenwood. She makes me feel mentally ill. Or maybe I’ve just been under a lot of stress lately.
This morning a case of the rebounding effect happened to me. My damn alarm got turned off by none other than myself, but I went right back to REMing with only slight recollection that my alarm ever rang. My aunt awoke at 5:30am saying the same thing in less “grander” words. It’s been cold lately. I’ve been cold (mean) lately. I’ve had the cold lately. I missed two days of school this week. For some reason even though I know I didn’t fare very well while ill at home I think I should have gone anyway. I will never know what I missed.
A small part of me knows I was starving myself this week. The other part of me kept telling everyone that my cold made me lose my appetite. But I finally ate tonight. Just like a year ago … starving yourself never hurts; I like building immunities to pain.
Slowly, I’m losing all rational thought. The spark? Reading. I read a year old conversation I held with someone and I let E.H. read it … bad idea. He pulled me apart and nailed me down perfectly. I hate being known. Other times, I start spitting out other people’s opinions. Am I so passive to the point that I cease to have any unique thoughts?
You make me feel crazy.
Perhaps sleep-deprivation is another bad sign. I need to focus again. My return to the online social scene was NOT a good idea. None of it is real anyway, right? I mean, I still care about people (such as Lindsey), but at some point in time I close that IM box and they become a non-existent blur. I feel schizo right now. Or in less drastic words I might just be bi-polar. Sometimes.
I am sleepy. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow: Gym, ballet class (yey! more Russian ballet!), and then a day with my once-close friend Jackie. I feel I’m pulling away from people. Let me rejoin the social scene. Oh, isn’t that a bright idea. That notion makes me want to laugh and cry all at once in one big dramatic nervous breakdown.
Get over it.