Stupid phone got wet on the way down to mums so now some buttons don’t work (m,n,o) and bloody ‘w’s pop up everywhere. Fuck, it’s confusing, especially since nobody gets what i’m talking about. Least i get replies now. Slightly less alone. After asking Filthy, Texan Pig and Sarah, the things that they said they hated about me were that i’m “negative, i’m depressed and that i cut”. Well, how am i meant to fix that? Yet to read Sarah’s response (it’s on Bebo). South Park should be on now.
Just got a text from Susan. Left my calender in a friends car, so it’s still not sent. Xmas was a month ago. Fuck i need a job. I don’t know how much is in my bank account, but DREADS- $500
NEW PHONE- $200, but $40 cash back at post office.
Oh, this is sad. Every few minutes i sit up and check my phone for a message. Am i really that alone?
I wonder if i’m slowly turning agoraphobic? I really have problems with leaving the house. Like, at dads it can take half a day to work up the guts to walk down and buy bread. Sending a letter is worse. Today, before i went out, i spent around two minutes peeking around the partially opened front door. It was almost as bad as the nerves you get before a speech. I just get so panicky. And when i got to the post office to get my credit, i was trembling and my hand was shaking as i passed over the money. I mean, that’s really not helpful. 10:08 and not a single message. Why did i go get credit? From now on i don’t text them unless they text me first.
Poem from a bag with Mashi Maro:
You can bardly make a
friend in a year
but you ean lose
one in an bour
Apart from the spelling errors, it’s quite true. 10:12- still no messages. I wonder if Texan Pig will write back? Let’s see… Hey, the m, n, o worked the whole way through. Out of everyone, why does that scum get the normal sounding message?!
10:24 and still no reply. Well, what did i expect? He’s done with me. The only reason i picked him was from rejection. The only reason he picked me was because i was alone and insecure. Why did they all leave me? I made them promise they wouldn’t but they still did. When i was with him i pleaded to them to help me but they just looked and walked off. Rejection again. All i was left with was this creep pushing himself onto me. At least he noted my existence. Those fucking meds make me black out. They make me so complacent. I never wanted any of this.
You will obey me. You will become me. We will control you. Time for your medicine baby.
You don’t get it. You just don’t get it.
From a headstone in Parkes cemetery- In the midst of life we are in death. Welcome to depression, fuckers.
10:42. So far, no reply to the message i just sent Filthy and Sarah. I wonder if they’re ignoring me? 10:43. Still no reply. Maybe my phone’s slipped from the reception spot? Shit, that reminds me. Have to take meds. The reception is fine! WHERE ARE THEY?!! Yes! Sarah texted. She says it was all my fault. Well, how was i meant to get up and leave?! My friends had all left me when they said that they wouldn’t. I couldn’t go out alone. They’d all laugh and play tricks. I can’t be alone. They’d come out to laugh at me. ALWAYS LAUGHING!! WHY MUST I FOREVER BE THE JOKE? Reply… there’s a reply.
Hahaha Texas had no battery. yeah sure. He was avoiding me. He thought he could hide but i found him. I got to him… You can’t escape me.
Ok… I wonder if this diary stuff is turning me mental? I’ll write the texts i just sent Sarah and Texan Pig. Filth just said he’d tried to distract him.. I love Filthy now.
WHAT I ORIGINALLY SENT OUT TO SARAH AND FILTHY
At Freshly Plucked did you see me silently pleading for help when he was pushing himself on me?
THEN UPON SARAH’S SUGGESTION IT WAS A PUBLIC PLACE AND I SHOULD HAVE WALKED OFF
Where i was meant to go? They always laugh. Always. Well, what’s so fucking funny?! Their soulless grins.. Like devils in disguise… they’re all after me… out to get me.. they won’t stop ti i’m broken.. then when i die the laughter will be louder… and they’ll talk.. they always talk… i can’t trust anyone…
THIS ONE WAS BEFORE THE ABOVE ONE
haha.. And gone where?! I was blacking out, i didn’t know where my ‘friends’ were, because they’d left me when they said they wouldn’t, and i didn’t know anyone around me..i can’t be alone..that’s when they talk… That’s when they come out to get you.. I can’t be alone… Why did you all leave me?!
AND THEN TO TEXAS IN REPLY TO HIS BATTERY MESSAGE
Dude, i think i’m having a slight breakdown.. hahahaha, why am i shaking? It feels like i’m rotting inside… the maggots will come soon.
Aww, apparently i was lost and Filthy had come to save me… Why did nobody tell me i was lost? When was i found? Now Sarah won’t reply to my messages. Finally…. she replied. NO FUCKING RECEPTION!! Five minutes to send one fucking message!
11:45 all of a sudden everyone’s stopped talking to me again. Why is everything i say wrong? Fucking reception!!! FUCK!
Haha, fucking typical. Texas is watching Scary Movie 4. Who the fuck gets a message from someone who’s freaking out, and continues to watch Scary Movie 4?! What a fucking arsewipe!! Fucking cunt!
Teehee.. it’s so fun to wake up Sarah. It’s so weird how my mood and thought pattern can change so rapidly. Ooh, i think i might have a message from Pig. Aww… Kidding myself- just balance (of course). I have $22.99 left. Yet to redeem my little prize thingy. Oh, and all the buttons are working again. Woot! Which means that new phone has dropped on the list of importance. YAY! OOH! NEW MESSAGE!! PIG? No… Another balance ($22.24). Aww.. He’s never going to reply. It’s already 12:25.. Almost ten minutes ago.. hahah… dad just slid a frankfurt under my door.. Random.
Oh, i fucking hate this guy. 12:34. No reply. Hmm. I gotta come up with a plan to hit him where it hurts. Would it really kill this ipod to actually shuffle songs? I have around 300 songs and hear the same 50 over again. Fuck it’s annoying.
Ok, first up, can we all please acknowledge the fact that a message was left on Bebo?!! My first taste of social media- i never really got into myspace, so Bebo was a pretty big thing, for me. I remember i had all of these quiz answers all over my page for things like “how depressed are you?”, and most of my friends were random goth and emo people who had added me for some reason. Ah, the days when glorifying mental illness and self harm was the key to online popularity.
My old Bebo profile picture. Because Jaffa’s fo’ lyfe, yo.
Anyway, back to the entry. That night i’d found myself in one of those moods where you want to know everything that’s wrong with you so you can fix everything and become a normal, likable person. I only asked three people for their opinions, and for some reason one of them was the person who had accidentally assaulted me. As you can tell, i had some problems with needing peoples approval in order to validate my existence. Everybody just wants to be liked, right?
At this time, leaving the house was a pretty big deal for me- i remember standing at the front door at my dads house for about two hours before getting the courage to go out and walk two blocks to buy milk from the service station. I’ve always been ridiculously anxious and shy, and at the time i was still wearing only black, so being in a small country town of 2000 people, i attracted a fair amount of attention when i left the house. Not only would i get fellow school kids making comments and laughing, i’d attract a few adults, as well. Adding to the real teasing, i was also hearing voices at the time- although i didn’t realise they weren’t real- and they would also tear me to shreds. The main insults were usually that i was fat, ugly and, for some bizarre reason, that i smelled bad. I was also quite paranoid, so anytime somebody laughed when they were nearby, it was obvious they were laughing at me. In some cases, they actually were, but in many others, it had nothing to do with me at all.
The funny thing is, by the time i was 19 my skin had become so thick that i stopped noticing the stares and laughter, both real and imagined. It may not be nice, but i stand by my belief that you have to be very strong in order to look/act different to the general population. I see people complain that they wore an out of the ordinary outfit that day and that people made rude comments about them, and that they were then hurt when someone said “well what did you expect dressed like that?”. I know it sounds like the same victim blaming that gets used for when the same person is assaulted for dressing how they like, but the harsh reality is that you will attract comments, both positive and negative, and to think otherwise is quite naive. I have, however, found that the more confident you are, the less criticism you will get, and the less the criticism you do get hurts. So, wear that pirate outfit with pride. Step out in your Demonias and walk like you own the place. Most importantly, don’t forget to have a sense of humour about it all- people are more likely to treat you positively if you act positively.
I’ve lost most of memory from this period, but i do remember this night. What you can’t see when these entries are typed out, is the change in handwriting when my mood changes. The more, for lack of a better word, crazy i get, the more jagged and sharp my writing becomes. This particular entry had a fair amount of that. While i was sending messages and writing, i was also rapidly rocking back and forth, whilst pulling at my hair and digging my nails into my back, trying to claw out the maggots, that i could feel crawling under my skin eating my rotting flesh.
The obsessive phone checking was sadly a very common occurrence. I had incredibly bad reception on that phone, so i was constantly sending balance checks, just to make sure my phone hadn’t slipped out of range. Day after day i’d try and convince myself that the reason no one had sent me any messages was because my phone was out of reception. I tried to believe that i actually had a whole heap piled up, just waiting for me. The truth was my friends didn’t want to talk to me- i self harmed, was incredibly depressed to the point i stopped talking, and was unpredictably aggressive, so i would often tell them how much i hated the fact that they breathed my air. I’ve lost count of the amount of times i had deleted everyone’s number from my phone, because fuck them, right? So, as you can imagine, i was everybody’s favourite schoolyard chum.
Oh, and i never did get those piercings or dreads.
This was taken at Chloe’s house, and was the last time i saw her before her accident.