Today I went to school (I ditched school yesterday, to stay at home to accompany my brother... or to get some more sleep) and I got to talk to Sylvia, a lot. 'Cause our add maths teacher was absent today, and we're too lazy to actually bother to study, so we started talking and talking and talking. Yep, there's a lot of talking.
It was all that talking that made me realize that I haven't got over my mood thing, to be real. It's still here inside of me, rolling and waiting for a time for its reappearance, which I'm not so jubilant about. I started to talk about my problems and my frustrations and she added in hers. I can say I'm really glad that we talked (for a solid three period), because I've been stuffing a lot of emotions in here, and it's really awful. I mean, yes, I get to write down in here and in my journal and songs, but it isn't the same, talking to a human being. It gives me the release I want.
I felt so bad. And so disgusted with myself. Like I said before, I've changed a lot this year, and me and a close friend got further apart and I felt terribly awful about it. It was because I was sort of bullied before when I was younger, and I know exactly how it feels like being abandoned. And of course I wouldn't want to hurt any other person the same way. It's torturing me on the inside, and I felt so empty and my head felt like it's literally bursting. I couldn't bring myself to fake like I'm all okay. I just couldn't.
I talked about it to Sylvia, and I'm relieved that she understands my frustrations and took my rambling in calmly. I knew Syl since seven, when we got in the same class during Year 1 in primary school. We know each others for like, eleven years by now. And sure, we have our ups and downs, and a few fights and constant competitions and all that. But beside my family, she's the one who knows me the most. I can trust her not to betray my secrets, and I know she's always on my side. It feels really glad to know that at least one person can understand your frustrations and all.
I can't believe this, but I'm actually fighting with tears right now. I'm just so damn emotional right now. (Sorry Syl, I'll try to be positive)
Recently, I can't really tell my mom how I feel. I'm afraid that I'll freak her out or something. Instead, I settle down for Wesley, who actually has the patience to listen to me and shut up for once (trust me, that's a miracle), and comforted me and all. Although he really annoys the hell out of me for most of the time, I'm really glad that he's my brother. (Aww... schmuck)
But it isn't the same as talking to my mother. She's always my rock and my most attentive listener. I'd always told her everything and anything about me, my school life, my feelings and all that whatnot. But she just doesn't get it why I'm feeling all so frustrated. In her opinion, I'm over thinking things. Sotong said the same thing before, but I think she got it now. At least a little.
Yes, I'm dramatic and have a really, really wild imagination. And sometimes I really over think things and drive myself crazy. But this isn't the same. I know it when something in my life really goes wrong. But today I just couldn't stand it anymore. Not talking to my mom about personal stuffs really drive me crazy more than anything else in the entire world. I talked to her, and I drone on about my worries for my future and my relationship with that particular person. She listened, but I can really sense that she's not in agreement with me. I can't blame her I guess, but it makes me terribly upset, like I'm now.
I don't know what to think of. I have way too many troubles on my shoulders right now, and it's going to snap. Real soon. I just hope that at least someone can understand my frustrations and devastation. But I guess it's really hard for someone to truly understand me. I mean, come on, I'm not an open book, for Pete's sake.
Ugh. This is so confusing and irritating at the same time. I somehow wish I can throw myself off the bridge and feed myself to the sharks. That's a great idea, but it hurts a lot. I don't think I can tolerate those moments where I start to suffocate and wait for the sharks to eat me up. Ew. No, I must be crazy.
Anyway, to that particular person: If you read my blog (which is like, 0.00000000001%), I'm sorry. I really am, but that doesn't changes anything. I'm truly sorry.
And you can see I torture myself enough to be a punishment.
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