Status: Uni...ew.
Joined: June 1, 2013
Last Seen: 14 hours
user id: 361860
Gender: F

This turned into my diary somehow.

i have a black dog. 

I'm still learning new things about myself.  I'm sorry for the spam.

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Quotes by Dudu*

don't do it, it feels good in the moment. but the moments before and after aren't worth it. it's what's gotten you to this point. it's keeping you at this point. stop self sabotaging. don't give up on yourself.
my happy place.
she's renting out space in my happy place.
she doesn't even pay rent.
can't wait for her to leave.
one month she says.
i'm counting down the days.
how to be a friend. how to be a good friend. i think i know. keep secrets. share presents. be there for them. support them. reply to texts. texting them whenever. feeling comfortable with them enough to tell them whatever. then when you get to see them, don't dread it. enjoy being with them. i've subconsiously listen this in order of what i can do, to what i struggle with the most. keeping secrets is easy. buying presents, easy. enjoying the friendship? if i have kept it this long, then i must enjoy it surely. surely it's not because i haven't known better. surely.
let him know that you know best. cause afterall...you do. know. best.
it's always been about you. it will always be about you. what you want, if you're hurting or not. how this benefits you. what i have ever done for you. how we need to accomodate you. this diagnosis is to show you what you have. we've always known you had something. now you can get better. it's not for you to use as an excuse. it's for you to stop denying and start changing.
i knew it. none of this was ever normal. fighting everyday over little things was never normal. the family walking around on eggshells whenever you were home was never normal. mum had to wrap around in a pretty bow all the words she gave you. she told it to me straight. it was never normal. lying for you, covering up your flaws. that's just how you were. you we're just a difficult person to be around. so fickle, so turbulent. you laid your childish landmines around the house. we'd step on them and you'd explode. each time more aggressive. we always knew it wasn't normal. you dismissed us as being jealous. in your borderline mind you painted us as the wrong ones. it was never normal.
Grey ceiling 2 cm above my head. Once I cracked through it the sky above was also grey. The glass roof that loomed over me for all these years...it was made of glass all along. Not cement. It weighed on my shoulders like a slab of concrete. Gross grey colour it drove me mad, why was it so hard to break through? Now I'm out in the open. I can see it for what it was. But the sky is still grey. The clouds are fortified with more tears than I could ever hold. I don't want to move. I feel like if I take a step in any direction the downpour will be too much for me. I want to crawl back into my concrete box. It's scarier outside. I wish I knew earlier the outside was just as bad. I should have known better than to seek help. The grey is slowly turning darker and I regret ever wanting better for myself. I was miserable inside but at least I wasn't scared for my life. Scared for my life. It's pitch black and I'm scared for my life. I don't understand. Why was the glass ceiling glass. Why is the sky so black. and since when did I care so much about my life that I'm afraid to lose it? Is this the lesson. Am I supposed to be scared straight now? I don't know who I'd be if I wanted to live beyond this. Wanting more dragged me into this. I should have been happy in my tiny depressing world. I was so comfortable there. Miserable and suicidal yes...but I had found comfort in that. A part of me wanted more still. That part of me hatched away at the glass that felt like concrete. It's still hard. But if I was really as comfortable as I'm trying to manipulate myself into thinking I was, then I would not be here. I can't ever let myself be comfortable again. Here on out my comfort zone is synonymous to danger zone.
being sensitive isn't bad with you. it's like i'm reprogramming my brain. slowly relearning how to express things that hurt. i don't need to brush them aside or grow a thicker skin. with you it's perfectly fine to feel deeply. fine to feel upset. fine to feel how i feel. i don't need to suppress or mask my words with a joke with you. for that i'm thankful. 
i don't even know what this is. but hugging you is my favourite form of comfort. talking with you is how my favourite conversations are made. seeing you is the best part of my day. you say i do know what this is. i'll keep playing dumb. i'll keep holding your hand and making you smile. some days these little things are what keep me going. you say we don't need to label this. no pressure. we both know what this is. there's trust and exclusivity. i have your spare key and you always cook an extra serving for me. it's sweet and it's innocent and dare i say it... it seems a lot like love.
i'm fortunate to be comfortable enough with myself that i don't fear being alone. communication is important to me. it becomes important when you run into the language barrier with your parents on a daily basis. when expressing yourself is the most difficult thing to do. miscommunication galore. only clear communication done through an older sibling who has a better grasp of the other language. they're the middleman gatekeeper to having a deep conversation with my own parents. my trail of thought patched together with english. having to use elaborate confused sentences to describe how i'm doing. it's a whole headache. clear communication is very important to me. i don't want to keep being misunderstood. the idea of having no one to express my deepest thoughts and feelings to scares me more than being alone ever would.
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