They'll definitively put down my cat.
I don't want to write or talk about it.
You know what really gets on my nerves?
People who ask you, 'How are you?', but they never really mean it.
They just ask, cause mommy and daddy taught them so.
And you answer, 'I'm fine', cause mommy and daddy taught you so. Even if you don't mean it.
I mean, nobody would go,'I feel like shit, my exwife doesn't want me to see my kids, I own people money, I want to finish this fucking life! HERE AND NOW!'
Nah, nobody would answer like that. People would think you're lunatic.
But that's the real answer to this question, no?
That's what we feel, but we don't want the others to know it, do we?
And why don't we want them to know it?
Well, that's a pretty easy question. The answer is: We are ashamed. We are ashamed, cause the others might be better, and feel sorry for us. We don't want people to feel sorry for us, no, no. It's a lot better to keep your problems for yourself, and then go to a shrink to talk about all your accumulated problems, yeah, that's right.
Yeah, and you will say, but people don't want to know it. Why are they fucking asking you if they don't care a shit? Eh? Any good answer? Courtesy, you'll say. Fuck courtesy, we don't live in 1813. My name's not Bennet and you're not Darcy.
Times have changed, the world moved on, and if you still believe in courtesy, then why does your exwife not want you to see you and your kids and you own people fucking money?
What the hell do you even think, when you're asking that? What do you care what others say or think or write? It's not like your best friend's showing up asking you,'How are you?', and expects you answer 'Yeah, I'm fine.'
Go out and accept your fucking feelings, man.
So, now I really mean it: How are you?
And I want to know it, cause I do care.
My cat's dying.
I have a concussion. Great. Fucking soccer.
I went to this slam/poetry thing. It was alright.
Stupid folks at school. Gets on my nerves.
My best friend's THE sensation. She has a bf, and suddenly, after some weeks, everybody knows and talks about it. Who the fuck cares? It's her fucking life, man.
I finished 'A long way down'. I love Nick Hornby's books.
I'm reading this book now, by george r. r. martin. ice and fire. w/e.
Everybody says it's awesome, sooo.. gonna check this out.
miss him. I rly miss him. this sucks.
Today, after school, I went to this lovely park.
It's really wonderful, and I love it.
A real paradise, five minutes from my house.
And I went there, cause I didn't want to go home. I don't know why, I just wanted to feel free.
And I sat down, and it was great, calm, and those birds around me, and it all remembered me 'Pride and Prejudice'.
It really was great, and I thought, wow. This is paradise. You are in, and what now?
Well, I had no idea. I read a bit, but it wasn't like.. I thought about what I want to do with my life, and I don't know.
I have it so great, and I'm sure, if I would stay here, I would go out with this man I love, and we would get married and .. whatever.
That's just, you know, not how it's in real, is it?
I don't want it to be like that. Well maybe, I do, but I need to see what I miss, if I make my life like that.
I want to do many things.. not now. But I want to do them..
1.Road trip in the U.S.A.
2.Travel to Japan and visit it. Maybe stay there for some years.
3.Travel to India.
4.See Africa. I mean, I want to see some parts of it, not the whole continent. Like, Idk, egypt and tunesia, kenia etc.
5.Do something for humanity.
6.Write some books. (And maybe publish them)
7.Travel to the U.K. and see London, and live there a while.. and go to Edinburgh, my sister loves scotland, and it would be great.
8.Travel to Sweden
9.Travel to some islands, make real vacances, with the sea and white sand and drinks, relaxing, massages etc.
10.End up back in A)Scotland or England, B)Back in Switzerland.
I know, that's all like.. idk, just impossible, and I have no idea what job I need to do all those things, but I wanted to write them down.
I want this life, and I know I'll have it, I just don't know how.
And I am so fucking lucky-with everything.
I'm tired. I actually don't want to do such journals about my fucking life and all that shit.
I want a diary, where I can write that I am fucking tired, and I am going to play this game now, Oberin, which rocks, and I want to go swimming later, but our charlady's here and I don't want to derrange her, cause hed kid's with her and she's asleep.
Reading 'A Long Way Down'-Nick Hornby
Listening to Anna Ternheim
Shit. Fox left Oberin. And it sounds so freaking stupid, caus you know, he left. Ha ha.
No I mean, I met this guy, he's like fourteen, in there, and he's so fucking funny, and I laugh all the time with him- a real virtual friend ha ha.
And he left. And it sucks. And I hate him for it.
-charlady left, me goes swimming now. See ya later.
(We got guests tonight, and mom's gonna do some dinner, jesus.)
You know that feeling in your life, when you just want to be someone else, and you say to yourself 'from now on, I'm this happy girl, that wants fun'
And then you think for some seconds, that all the problems you have, all those things, memories, are not yours! It's someone else's problem!
And for like three seconds you feel how it is, not to have this huge rock on your shoulders.
I wish I would feel like that all the time. I want liberty.
That's how I imagine it.
Leave everything and start again.
I want that liberty.
I want it so bad.
I would give everything for it. But I know, if I get it, many MANY people will be disappointed, and I know, I can't live like that for ever.
So I take liberty for three seconds. And I want to write about it. I want to have a book, and I can always open it and be this girl without any problems. This girl without anything to bother!
My mom said I might go to Indianapolis in some years. I mean, I was like,
'MOM ARE YOU LUNATIC?'
And she turned all,
' What? You're almost sixteen, that's OK.'
And I was all,
'Oh my god. Well, okay.'
Haha, she's so insane.
I'm fed up with it.
My sister here, my sister there. Everything has to do with her and how perfect she is, and how I am not.
I mean, yeah, sure it's great, but I really got it up here that they're rubbing it under my nose like that.
Fuck off I got enough of it. They say I hang on the computer all the time, insult me, call me names, but they know nothing about me, do they?
They don't know I've been reading a lot, lately, and I hadn't have time to go out, anyway, I don't want to. I want to be alone. Yes, I'm a loner. I am. And I don't care what anybody says. Damn, it's my business. My life.
Well. After some years, I'd like to write a bit again. No clue why I'm writing in english, though. Who cares?
Anyway, it's more for myself that I wanna write, then for other folks to read my shit.
So. Where to begin?
Yesterday, I watched "Pride and Prejudice". I bet, if you didn't read the book, you won't like it. But I am just reading it, and it is spoiling (haha) but I didn't really care, cozz Jane Austen writes that good, it doesn't matter.
This morning was alright. I had a 5,7 in maths (in switzerland, 6 is the best mark you can have). And I am absolutely bad in maths, so oh wonder!
I was sorta speechless.. I feel, I have to write my story. It is important to me, because if I let it out of my mind, maybe I will be able to forget it.
Also, I want others to know: You are not alone.
It's now almost two years ago, since it stopped.
I was nine years old, when it all began. Bullying. In german "Mobbing".
I am now almost sixteen, and I have some troubles with myself..
It is hard to say, what my class"mates" did to me. You know, I was never fat , didn't wear glasses, had no brace. I was not a geek or so. I was a little girl, like every other one. Only difference maybe: First of all, my first language is french. Second difference: We aren't poor. Really, we've got a house, two wonderful dogs, five cats, a pool..Everything to be happy.
Of course, I've got a dad which is quite addict to "Everquest", a mother that loves fashion, a sister that loves the hippie time, and a grandmother which gambles. My other grandmother has a strong character, and insulted me in any possible way, though I think she sorta loves me. *sighs.
I think it began with names-calling. I was the last picked in sports, though I was very sportive. It began with little things like that. (I had quite a big problem with that, couldn't handle it, you see. And I remember something strange about me, I now know, I had Trichotillomania, though I was like ten years old!)
Then it got over to take my things, throwing them around, and such things. I had no chance to get outa this mess. My teacher (a real arse) did like he didn't realize anything, and as if I only imagine anything.
I got this for three years.
When I got into secondary B (Highest is Gymnasium, then Secondary A, Sec. B, Sec. C etc.) I was pretty disappointed. I knew I was intelligent enough to get into the Gymnasium, but this teacher did everything not to let me.
I hoped and wished, the bullying to stop in the Secondary School, but wrong hope. I got into almost the same class. This was one of the most horrible years in my whole life.
You know the thing "Smile now, cry later"? Well, it was pretty much like this. Except "Be indifferent now, cry later in your room, while your parents yell at you, cause you let your anger out on them".
My parents didn't know about anything. Though they told me later, they worried about me. (I didn't believe they love me at this time.)
Anyway, they thought about any possible thing that could have happened to me. But never they would have thought about bullying.
The following year, I changed into Secondary A, lost a year, but that was okay. The teacher of the Secondary B were like "What the hell are you doing in sec. B? You are obviously too good for it."
This was a time, I had taken weight. I had eating disorders..I stopped to eat, and I can remember, some weeks, I only ate a little bit on three days a week. An apple maybe.
I frequented "pro-ana" pages. ( More about here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pro_ana )
I lost a lot of weight with this, and my mom realized it. She didn't know, that I didn't eat, but she saw, that I wanted to lose weight. So I started with "Weight Watchers", which helped me really a lot.
I think that was the time, when I couldn't control what I eat anymore, when I started cutting myself. (More here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self_injury)
I felt a feeling of emptiness, I isolated myself, but more about that later.
I was now in another class. It was better then before, and slowly I got integrated again.
In the end of the year, a girl of the U.S. in my class, began to be mean to me, and I was scared, the bullying could start again. The girl left our class last year.
This year, I got into a Musical group. I met a lot of new people there, not of my school, from the gymnasium.
They had more niveau, and I was very pleased to make a bunch of new friends. Actually about 40 new friends at one! Wow, I can tell you that gives you a kick, and it's still warmhearting, to think about this.
I gained courrage, I went to the "school psychiatrist". I dunno if that helped me, but this guy, he scared me a bit, telling me that he doesn't know how emptiness feels like. I didn't tell him about my self injury problems.. which I still have.
Damn it! That's my story, and I could write a book about it, because you know, something like that, that gets you down, and now I laugh at emos and all that, cozz I know, what I got through, and people, I'm only sixteen! I can't believe all that.. and I can't believe how lucky I am to be now in the end of my second year in the Secondary A, which I will leave next year to get into the Gymnasium!
I am not.. I don't know, maybe this sounds .. well fuck off, I am not "healed" by now, because I look at what I had, and I don't fucking care about those freaking psychiatrists, I was mentally ill, and I still can see the scars on my arms, and in my sudden emtiness I sometimes feel. I live in my world, I hang on my computer all the time, playing MMORPG like hell, to escape.. Whatever, I'll fight to the end, and it's good to write about all this shit that happened to me. Really, you can't understand, I am in tears, just from thinking about it.
So it is, and well, now that this is off my heart, I think I can write about myself- I mean my real self, the one that was hidden all those years, scared to be let out.
This in my next entry. Thanks for reading. Thanks for let me write.