disgusting.

i've been locked up in my room for most of the past week, in a desperate attempt to bring myself back to an acceptable level of self-loathing. still waiting for that to work. (most people would say there is no acceptable level. but what do they know?) every once in a while, i'd emerge to find something to nibble on, but then i would return to my room. i hadn't spent any decent time outdoors. in fact, i avoided it as much as i could.

it wasn't too long before i felt sorry for my dog, so i took him for a long(er) walk. bad idea. i ran into my neighbor. she said my skin looked radiant. i'm positively baffled. is that because of the malnutrition, or the lack of sunlight? i decided the risk of running into people was too high, so i stayed inside again. then yesterday, i emerged again, to go visit a friend. bad idea. a random thunderstorm made the trains delayed. i left at one. i didn't get to her house until four. it never takes that long. and then i was trying to secretly plan a surprise party for her with her brother, but that didn't work. it just looked like we were up to something. something she wouldn't approve of. and then i had to leave, so there wasn't much time to plan or fix the situation.

when i got home last night, i thought, "i'm never leaving my room again. outside of my room, bad things are waiting to happen. this is a controlled environment. nothing changes in here." i wasn't factoring in my mother, though, who woke up on the wrong side of menopause today (as usual), and told me how my room smells like dog, and how i smell like dog, and i smell so bad i shouldn't be around people and even my hair smells like dog and how can i live like that and blah, blah, blah. my favorite part was, "why did you eat all the bananas? i thought you didn't want any food from the store. i didn't buy them for you." (i told her i wouldn't eat any more of her precious food.) weird thing is, she's been home all week. she knows i haven't been leaving my room. and i'm obviously not in the best mood. what kind of fucked up mother makes her daughter feel more like shit than she already does?

naturally, i directed all of my anger against myself. again. because that's what i do. does it help? no. why do i do it? i don't know. i think it's just what i do. i suppress my emotions so that everyone else can be happy, even though that means i won't be. and it just makes me hate myself more, because i don't want to, but it's what i'm used to. the more i hate myself, the more i want to keep other people away from me. i don't want people around long enough to find out how sick, twisted and screwed up i really am. but the more i keep people away, the more i want to be near them. and even if i let myself be around other people, i can't stop comparing myself to them. and i fall short every time.

my head hurts.

thank you for trying to cheer me up, by the way. i'm sorry i couldn't. but i did appreciate it.

honestly.