I want to break something so bad. Have you ever had that moment? Where you want to take a baseball bat inside, say, a store that sells crystalware and pulverize everything into a million pieces? I have so much pent up anger, it’s not even funny. I think it’s because I suppress my anger too much. It builds and builds, and all I wanna do is kill. Or die. I don’t care.

Someday I know my temper is going to get the best of me, and someone is going to get hurt. Preferably me, so I don’t have to feel guilty abt. harming another person. I couldn’t live with that. My temper’s gotten me into trouble before, and I can’t live with myself because of that incident. These kind of musings sorta reminds me of that episode in Torchwood, Combat. Which was sorta like Fight Club (but I never read the book or saw the movie, so I dunno). Except I’m not mad because my life has no point. I’m mad because there’s too much going on in my life, and I can’t find a handle on it.

I swear, every time my life finds its balance in this crazy world, someone or something else comes along and mucks it all up.

So as you read this entry, don’t pity me. I just need to get this shit out of my head.

It’s driving me crazy.

My mum won’t be visiting us anymore. Long story; don’t ask. This is the last time we’ll be seeing her for awhile. Money is really tight, so she has to get a second job to compensate for the lack of money. She used to be able to visit us on her days off at her job, but that job isn’t giving her enough hours anymore. So she has to find a second one which she will work on her days off from her first job. I think. That’s the way she explained it to me. I was too depressed about everything to make sense, but that’s what she made it sound like.

I’m still trying to find my balance with my financial situation. My Ate yelled at me the other day, because I couldn’t give her the money I promised (I forgot I had to pay for school with the other half I promised her). Like I didn’t feel guilty that I couldn’t give it to her. I hate paying her back for all the things I owe her, and I hate the fact that my mum wants to help bail me out. Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I know she’s having a hard time paying her own bills. I don’t want her to take care of mine too, ya know? I’m only just getting back on track (thank God for this job), but I hate waiting. I just wish I could wave a magic wand and be done with it, ya know?

I emailed my advisor to set up an appointment to talk to her about changing majors. I have come to the realisation that I don’t want to be an English major anymore. The idea of graduating with an English degree has lost its luster. Truth be told, I didn’t want to be an English major. I wanted to go to ITT Tech, but because I couldn’t get a tuition waiver like I did back in Cali, I decided to do English. I eventually got my Associates in General Studies, but whatever.

I don’t have a passion to want to learn English anymore either. There’s no challenge. I mean, I’m looking at the upper division English classes I have yet to take, and they’re not all that interesting. So I decided to change my major to History. I’m always blabbering on about loving it, and the classes I could take would challenge me. Plus I was researching potential careers, and they are far more interesting than if I were to remain an English major. Wish me luck!

I love my job, I do, but I hate closing. We close at 11pm, right? Well, we have to clock out by 11pm. So even if you have a customer at 10:58, you have to stay open for them. Which is silly because we are supposed to take half an hour to open, and there’s practically no business in that first hour we’re officially open. And there’s so many little things you have to remember when you close! I personally hate getting overtime if I don’t have to.

And tonight was no exception. The closing manager gave me an early out, and everything was pretty much done, right? Well, stupid me couldn’t get the count right. So I counted it again. Got a different count. Counted it again, and again, and again. And with each successive recount, I got nervous and pissed off at myself because nothing was adding up properly. Finally the last 2 counts were the same. Even so, I ended up with OT. To say “grr” would be an understatement.

So I power walked from the time clock (where the closing manager had to approve my OT) to my car with a big frown on my face, blasting “Famous Last Words” by My Chem. Even though the lyrics are kinda sad, that drum kit made me wanna do something to release my anger at myself.

Plus I’m losing weight. The only time I eat now is when I’m at work because I don’t have to pay for lunch. They feed us. And I don’t pig out there either. I put a lot of decent food on my plate (vegetables, meat, rice, etc.), eat ’til I’m full, and then watch “Doctor Who” on my iPod until I have to go back to work. Otherwise I drink only water when I’m at home, and ignore the pain.

I’m getting used to not eating as often as I used to. My appetite has changed dramatically because of it. I used to hate that feeling of not eating, but I understand why people have eating disorders now. I’m not doing it out of vanity, I’m doing it because I’m stressed. Besides, I’m not losing a dangerous amount of weight, but enough to make me question myself. I was 147 when I checked this morning. I’ve been hovering around 153-155 for awhile. I’m too stressed out about what’s going on in my life to eat. I look at food - only when I’m at home though - eat 2 bites, and push the plate away. I’m not gonna force myself to eat if I’m not hungry. When I’m in public though, I swear, I eat a ton. I checked again and I was back to 151. I think it was water weight when I got that 147 number.

And being sexually repressed isn’t a barrel of monkeys either. I can’t connect with kids my age because of it. I mean, I have a dirty mind, but I’ve never actually experienced the stuff I joke about. I think it’s kinda cool to still have my V card in this day and age, ’cause it makes me different from everyone else. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could relate to kids my age in that sense.

In fact, when thinking about this really, really hard, at the heart of the matter, I don’t even care abt. having sex. I just want to make a connection with someone. I want someone to hold me. Someone to look me in the eyes, take me by the hand, and tell me, “It’ll be all right baby. Just keep your chin up. I’ll be right there with you, no matter what.”

Sorta like this ljsecret I found awhile back and saved to my hard drive (which I do so often)…

jamesdean.jpg

Where’s my James Dean?

I just want to know what it’s like to be loved.

*le sigh*

?: “Have you ever lost weight because of stress?”