Monday July 13th 2009
Even though I wrote a long suicide note I still haven't gained the strength to actually slit my wrists. How painful would that be?
So here I am taking on another invigorating day. Is it weird that I trace porno and masturbate? I guess I'm weird and shouldn't bring these types of things up.
Tomorrow we start our end of the year trip with my college prep program. I am excited except, I don't know how I will react when I see Paul. It will be awkward considering I asked him out.
I'm feeling less depressed now that I'm ok with myself being gay. I don't care if someone kills me because of it or tells me it's a sin or its dirty, because, sex is gross no matter what. My experience with my hand tells me sex feels good. It is pleasurable and fun.
I need more to keep my mind busy. This trip is only a week long so when it is done I think I will read a lot and spend lots of time here writing and rambling about how shitty life is.
Speaking of, today was pretty typical, mom felt she accomplished a lot when in truth nothing got finished. The house is not finished being painted. The garden needs to be weeded. The house is dirty and the list goes on.
I went on a walk around the river and chuckled because there were so many people eating fast food while looking at the river. Is it peaceful to stuff your face at noon while looking at the river? I guess so because there were at least twenty people doing it.
Today I spent most my time tracing and coloring porn. When mom left I went online and printed some more gay guys doing it. I'm going to get caught white handed one of these days. My argument is that not only is it natural, but it is perfectly legal at my age.
We had fajitas tonight and as expected the veggies weren't cooked all the way.
I want to look better so I'm going to loose five pounds. I have extra skin even from that little time I was over weight.
I don't really want to go to bed because it's hot and I was up till 12:00 last night and slept till 11:30 this morning. I love sleeping. It's like I'm dead but less painful. Plus I love dreaming. I really don't care what I dream about.
I can't wait till I get out of this house. It seems every time I talk or sometimes if I move I'm instantly scolded or treated like an idiot. This is why its nice to go to college in the summer. They are so supportive and encouraging no matter what. The people in this program are my friends, family, and home. When I am around them I am relatively happy unless I am beating myself up over being gay or something else I dislike about myself.
I'm an extremely pessimistic person on the inside, but I like to show the outside I am optimistic. It's weird.
I guess I do have one thing going for me. I am counseling people online and instead of regretting going on like I had my first month and a half of volunteering I now look forward to helping someone. When I read a really fucked up story I can avoid that sick feeling in my stomach I get when dealing with my own life. That sick feeling comes and goes throughout the day.
For example when mom came home and bitched because I used to much toilet paper, I got so sick I wanted to kill myself again. When mom complains or someone makes me feel stupid or makes fun of me seriously I want to curl up cry and die.
It sucks because I can't cry anymore and I don't have the balls to slit my wrists. I guess that is good because maybe I'll help someone some day. I guess I really need to control those feelings. Sometimes I just try to accept them.
I think accepting my homosexuality will give me the content feeling I seek. Right now I feel very content. I could take on the world. So if I not only accept the fact that I'm gay and accept when I'm angry, sad, happy, overwhelmed, or whatever, I will be able to stay content and handle the situation at hand.
I'm kinda in and out on how I feel. I am totally there some times and totally ignorant the majority of the others. There are a lot of things I won't understand about other people. After all I haven't experienced everything. There's a lot of people who don't experience homosexuality and when they come to me some day and tell me with anger I'm wrong, I can say I wouldn't expect you to understand. Just as I don't expect to understand the client that comes to m e asking how she can quit drugs, have a baby, stop slitting her wrists, and solve her friend's death. I've never had a baby, had sex, done drugs, or had a friend die. You just need to brain storm and trouble shoot.
God, if there is one, only knows what the hell may come my way. I'd like to say I've done it all but there is just to much to learn. How can I be a shrink without life experience? I feel I need first hand accounts on getting in trouble and getting through. I can't say alcohol is bad, but I've seen people drunk and I've had people die. I just don't want to find out what type of road I'll be on if I ever experimented with alcohol.
Well I originally wanted to complete this journal book but I guess that will have to be another day. Another day.
Living on the edge by not being sure of yourself as well as believing you are some sort of superhuman causes the many things presented in this journal to occur. The randomness, incoherent thoughts, suicide notations, blunt honesty in a non caring fashion to how others may view it, and this writing that seems to be talking to not just myself, but to a larger audience, are all prevalent.
The best example of randomness as well as an incoherent thought is presented when in one paragraph it ends with the legality of watching porn and the next paragraph discusses the eating of fajitas.
Of course I was dead serious about killing myself and how I wanted to do it but wasn't brave enough to. Really it must be painful and scary to slit your wrists let a lone pointless to the outside world who has never experienced my life.
Blunt honesty is my greatest and worst gift in many cases. I entered a period of absolute honesty to myself where no thought was to wrong to think. However there are some thoughts that could not be posted publicly because they would get me into more trouble with the wonderful public that reads these journals. Quote: Is it weird that I masturbate and trace porn. Really, who writes this kinky shit?
Because it is clear this was a freedom of thought journal it is also understandable I was just aimlessly ranting to myself to get somewhere. That somewhere being the end of the journal. However if you look again and reinterpret its meaning not only did I, discover more about the world and myself, the reader can discover something as well. Though the content in this journal was originally written for self discovery, it is the miracle of human diversity that truly allows any experience to be read from an individuals point of view.
I wanted to be a shrink at this point in life and had found an online counseling site that I volunteered on. Should it be disturbing that those who want to help the most stereotypically need help the most? That's a comical rhetorical question.