This is ridiculous, just . . . bloody ridiculous.

Ha ha ha.

There's something so 'slap you in the face' about feeling suddenly insignificant.

What a wake up call.

Unheard. Huh. Go figure.

This blog really is like a diary, then, isn't it? No one reads it either. ;)

Awesome. I can say whatever the hell I want to, then. He he he.

Hmm. . . . let us see.

1. Sometimes I wonder why I love my sister at all. I hate living with her.

2. One of my friends creeps me out sometimes.

3. I have this really insane feeling like almost every guy I meet likes me. Thankfully, I never voice this fact. Fortunately, this makes me more confident. Unfortunately, it also makes me more self-conscious. Wow, I'm a dork. Vain and insecure. . . . Nice combination, wouldn't you say?

4. It is nearly impossible for me to look a guy I really like in the eyes. I'm getting better at that now, though. Unfortunately, by then I will have graduated. Of course. Not that he likes me anyway. Lol.

5. Sometimes I want to strangle everyone for being either 1) so fake, 2) so stupid, 3) so annoying, or 4) so bloody obtuse and/or predictable. Of course, who doesn't?

6. For some reason, I'd rather not talk to myself.

So, naturally, I'll say this once.

Goodbye.

Refreshing.

Today feels like a weekend. Finally, I don't have to do something. I'm not obligated for crap.

It's refreshing. It's nice.

What's even better is I've started to exercise again, and I mean really exercise. It's indescribable.

I'm not really up for writing much right now. I think I did quite a bit of it in those last two posts.

Suffice it to say, I'm doing better, immensely so.

Kudos to not thinking too much, eh? ;)

Songs: (isn't he just fabulous? lol.)
Machine - Josh Groban
Weeping - Josh Groban
February Song - Josh Groban

This evening. . .

My news for this evening?

I hyperventilated, in the emergency room. Or rather, on the way to and in.

Let me tell you, this, oh yeah, this was fun.

First, I was sitting on the couch, watching some random show or other, when I suddenly took this deep breath. I had to think for a moment. Was I breathing before? I had to physically concentrate on my breathing. It all felt too small, my breaths, my heartbeats, my concentration. My mom was sitting across the room, and I told her. I really, really, was afraid I was going to simply forget to breathe, and my body would just shut down, quit. I convinced her to take me to the doctor, because without some knowledgeable advice, I wouldn't let myself go to sleep at all, afraid I would wake up dead. Wake up outside of myself.

We got in the car, drive across town, and as we're about to pull into the parking lot, it got worse. See, first the right side of my left hand started going numb, then my right hand, then it just, you know, stayed tingly for a while. As we were walking across the lot, into the lobby, up to the desk. I'm trying to breathe, but my hands are still going numb, still grainy sand rubbed across the inside of my skin. I can't make it stop, even when the lady tells me to take deep, even breaths, in through my nose, out through my mouth. Deep, even. We go to sit down, to wait until they call us in. Until, of course, it radiates up along my arms. . . . and my lips, my mouth, start going numb. By then of course, I was in the waiting room with my mom. My arm, from the elbow down went entirely numb, every sensation a hundred miles away. They were, apparently cold, but I couldn't tell. I felt comfortable, temperature-wise. Then my hands seized up, tightening into these sort of claws. My elbows locked, I couldn't move my hands. Then my entire body, and I mean literally, my entire body went numb. But I was still breathing, in through my nose, out through my mouth. I couldn't really open my mouth more than half an inch, and I couldn't move my lips, so they were stuck in this sort of 'o' shape, the kind that babies get from sucking their thumbs, so that I could force the air out. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out. Slow, even, deep. I couldn't move at all, my eyes were twitching, I could hardly lift my eyelids. I was really panicking now, but as long as I could breathe, yeah, I was fine. Elbows locked, can't move at all, but yeah, fine.

Tears streaming down my face, trying to breathe, hands in bird-beak claws, entire body numb, but I was fine, as long as I could breathe.

Apparently, if you breathe too deep when you're hyperventilating (which I didn't know I was), then you only make it worse. Because, according to the doctor, when you breathe that much, you expel all the carbon dioxide from the body, which caused the seizure-like claws, the nerve chaos, and the continued inability to breathe.

Huh. Really?

Wow, that was an experience.

I've never had to wear a hospital gown before, with that thing on your first finger to measure the level of oxygen, and those things stuck to your chest to measure your heartbeat, which left massive red circles on my chest, resembling huge ring worms. Don't you love how I use the word 'thing' a lot? But I honestly don't know what they're called. Anyway, my neck felt so weak after that, floppy and muscle-less, as did most of my body. I was drained of what little energy I had. And it was odd, getting dressed (or rather un-dressed, and into those drafty hospital gowns) my jaw started to clack, that "I'm extremely cold, freezing my butt off here" shaking and chattering of the teeth, but I felt fine. I mean, I didn't feel cold. My mom said my hands were hot, and in fact, they were sort of turning red, which is big because my hands are rather pale. The bed was hot, the sheets were too much. But as they talked to me, getting me to talk about random things, I started, slowly, ever so gradually, to regain feeling in my limbs (and don't mistake my perfunctory description, the 'calming down' part took about thirty, and much more, minutes). Pretty soon it was just the tips of my fingers, and a little bit of my left hand. This took a while, because, as both the nurse and the doctor said, it takes a lot longer for the symptoms to go away than it does for them to come. Don't I know it.

And this, my good reader, is all because I thought about my breathing too much. Obviously my body won't simply stop breathing, my heart won't simply stop beating (another thing the doctor assured me quite profusely, and in all honestly, I know it's a no brainer, that fact. I'm quite aware that it won't, or rather can't, simply stop on me, for no reason, I just needed to be sure, and be assured by them). It's all in my head, it's all up there. The idea is to focus on the other stuff: homework, music, guys, day, book, etc. God, if only C. were here, it would make this all so much easier. Unfortunately, I haven't heard from him in weeks.

Now all I need to do is quit having these moments (which now number at two) where I let my
'anxiety' and my panicking overwhelm me so entirely. It's not the best thing to experience. It was probably on the level of asthma attack, but higher. After, with asthma, you'll just faint dead away, see white. With hyperventilating, you cramp up, your muscles seize, and you go numb, you can't move or feel at all, except that blinding thought of "what if my lungs go numb too?" before you eventually pass out. Oh yes, much worse than an asthma attack, of which I've also had two.

It's late, it's Friday the 13th, I've had my share of the scary shit, and I want to go to bed. I've experienced your typical, superstitious and categorized "number holiday." I'm good for another seventeen years. Bring on the good stuff, some good dreams, some decent sleep, and nothing more.

Wish upon a star,
One of those stars we cannot see,
And hope for something more, something like:
You, never gone from me.

Night.

Last night was one of the single scariest nights of my life.

I'm not entirely sure what it actually was, but when I went to bed last night it was terrifying. At first I was fine, got comfortable, laid on my back, a position I don't usually take when I want to go to sleep, because it isn't usually comfortable for me. But last night, it was different, like being buried under six feet of sand. As I started to fall asleep, I began visualizing myself as a dead person, a dead body, laying in a coffin. That's how I was laying down, too. Legs straight, hands over my chest, entirely still. I wasn't sure if I was breathing or not, but it seemed as if every sound I heard simply swirled around me, bursting in on my semi-consciousness with an unnerving brilliance. And the sounds were all around me, from every side, repetitive, quite simply there. It was kind of like, each sound was a soap bubble bursting with a fluorescent gas that swirled around and within my entire body until dissipating. Intruding on the thoughts I didn't have. And it was odd of course, but after a while it started to scare me a little that I was being unnaturally still, that I was resembling a body in a coffin just a tad too closely. So I rolled over onto my side, my hands up and my legs extended. Which was okay. I was comfortable, I was warm, my radio was playing softly. Then everyone else went to bed, and the house was silent. No more outside distractions, no more fluorescent gas swirling within my mind and inside every crevice of my body. Just silence, apart from the faint music swirling out of my radio, like a dense, heavy fog drifting, seeping out of the speakers to lie heavily on my carpet. My eyes started getting heavy almost instantly, sleepy little one. It was almost as though they were too heavy, and I had no choice but to close them almost entirely. But this comes the point where I freak out even to write. Hallucinations. You ever had some of those? Well, I haven't, before. But as I started to fall asleep, it wasn't random things from my day, random words, thoughts full of anxiety or worry, that popped into my mind and kept me from sleep. It was a series of bizarre images, flashes of fruit, some grapes, flashes of other things I couldn't begin to remember. It was strange, but I'm sure I could've simply ignored it in the morning, if that were all that had happened. Instead, the bottom of my feet started to (I don't know how to describe it) itch, they began feeling extremely sore and just uncomfortable, as though I had run or jogged a couple of miles. You know that feeling your feet get after you've been walking far too long, a little sore, a little irritated, just enough to make you squirm at night when you're trying to fall asleep? Yeah, this was worse. The feeling increased. It almost felt like a small fire, a little burn, and it was spreading up through my foot. The sensation didn't rise higher than my ankle, but it was enough. I started noticing my breathing. So shallow, almost nonexistent, as though I kept forgetting to breathe, and only managed a little every now and then. My hands were by my face, and I could feel my heart. Yet, the problem was, what I felt wasn't much. My heart felt like it had slowed phenomenally, and not only was it beating slower, it was weaker. I could barely feel it at all. I pressed my fingers to my wrist, the side of my neck, the dip in the base of my neck, between my collarbones (because if you press your fingers there, you can feel your heart), held my hand over my heart in my chest. Barely anything responded, it was so weak, like my heart could hardly stand to beat that it was just attempting some feeble, faint echo of what it should. I started panicking, because those hallucinations I discussed earlier, they hadn't ceased. I'd close my eyes, but it would seem as if they weren't actually closed, like I had one eye still cracked open. I tried to breathe deeper, it was a little difficult. I sat up abruptly, my limbs shaking a bit. I looked around my dark room, shapes and shadows revealed to my accustomed eyes, and the first thing that came to mind, the first scrap of something resembling an actual thought in this entire experience, was 'I need C.' I was convinced, wholeheartedly, that he would be able to hold me, keep his hand on my heart, and tell me if it stopped beating, if I'd stopped breathing, so that I wouldn't have to watch for it myself, he would tell me so I could begin to live again, restart my heart, expand my lungs. I was convinced that everything would go away if he was there, that it would all be fine if he could only hold me. I was terrified to fall asleep now. I didn't know what to do. I climbed out of bed with that panicky kind of quickness, a little jerky, a little bit of stumbling. And I turned my light on as though I was certain I could catch someone in the act of hiding my sanity, my calm, my normality. No one was there, of course. I walked back and stood by my bed, restlessly trying to decide what to do, try to sleep, stay up the rest of the night. What to do? I was running my fingers through my hair, what little breathing I could manage was fast and slightly asthmatic, and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to fall asleep with my light off, because what if the hallucinations came back? I didn't know if I should stay awake all night, because I would be tired as heck the rest of the day, and I would feel guilty, misplaced as that seems. I couldn't decide. I was fighting off tears. I was trying not to panic; I didn't realize that I already was. As the tears started streaming down my face, I rushed with a blind man's dexterity towards my door, the hallway, and my mother and sister's bedroom. Through my tears, the first I thing I said to them, as they wondered why I was intruding on their sleep, was "Feel my heartbeat." I was afraid it was going to stop. I was afraid it was going to slow down so much that it would disappear, and my chest would get tight, and I wouldn't be able to breathe, and I would die and not even know. No one would know, if it happened. So I rushed to them and gave them my wrist, first my mother, then my sister.

Panic attack. It is possible that that is all it was. A sensation or two that simply freaked me out. Was it a heart attack, in some vague way? I know when my feet started to burn, I was absolutely, thoroughly terrified that I would wake up paralyzed, that that was why my lungs didn't want to work, why my heart didn't want to beat, why it felt as if my legs were disappearing from sensation and I was just sinking into my mattress, every part of me disappearing except for that shallow beating and my fuzzy eyes, my panicky toes scrambling over my feet, trying to make that feeling disappear before I couldn't feel a thing anymore. I had to move my legs, with some difficulty, just to assure myself that they were still there. I jerked my body just to gain some knowledge that I hadn't vanished, that I wasn't simply a spirit experiencing the pains of an invisible body, like the pains soldiers experience when they lose an arm or a leg. The nerves remember what you'd like to forget. I had to make sure. Was I still alive? I was no longer sure.

I slept most of the night in their room (after much reassurances that my heart was still beating, even though I couldn't feel it at all), sharing my sister's bed, curled up (literally) in a quilt I had hastily pulled off my bed. It took forever for me to fall asleep, because I was convinced that my heart and breathing would stop while I slept, that I would never know. I was afraid that my sister would wake up next to a body and nothing more. I was tempted to get on the computer and write to C., perhaps catch him still awake. I didn't though. I went to the bathroom, and then crawled back into bed, and suddenly, it was almost like I could see again. There was no more fuzz, no more hallucinations, just the breathing of my sister and mother. And when I finally fell asleep, against my will and as still as possible, hardly breathing, still convinced that I wouldn't wake up at all, I slept hard.

Today, I'm tired, so tired. I don't want to go anywhere, yet I need to avoid thinking. This is my story, this was my night. I have to go get ready now.

Much hope.

Lately.

I find I have a great aversion towards my computer lately. A great aversion and impatience.

I can see no reason why I would need to get on, I feel like I'm simply wasting my time while I'm on my computer, and honestly, I am. I don't even need this blog.

The only reason I would have to get on my computer at all is to work on my book, but apparently there is a virus in my computer, so the point of that would be . . . . ?

Anyway, that's my update. I'm reading a lot, back in school, not really enjoying it, it keeps snowing when it shouldn't, and for once, I think I feel clear headed. Well, eighty percent of the time anyway.

So yeah. Now I have to go get ready, though I'm not entirely sure what I should do to do that. *sighs* It's all a great puzzle to me this morning. I just want to daydream, or sleep. Is that so much to ask?

. . . oh, and did I mention? I actually do believe, well, for the most part believe, that the world will actually end in 2012. Don't ask me how or why I'm so sure. Let's say, I believe in a specific superstition that points to that conclusion quite definitely. Huh. Crazy, don't you think? ;)

Not good.

My MP3 has spontaneously decided not to work anymore. Um, bad news much? Fuck. What do I do now? I've been on the damn computer for about forty-five minutes, on the "support" website for the damn MP3 and frankly it isn't helping me a bit. This is starting to piss me off, a lot.

"Oh, you hold down the power button to reset it." What a crock of shit. That does not fix it in any way. Damn it!

I need music to exercise with, and I can't exactly use my CD player. My radio would have to be blasted to hear over the treadmill, and that would be just a smidgen too loud for anybody involved, expect me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. . . jaskrlk;sgfj;lkag hjhar ldgk;arpi )*&#^!@*%!@#&*!!

It is taking all of my energy to not toss my computer across the room, so forgive me if I haven't got anything exciting to write about.

Interview. . . sounds ominous.

So I'm sitting here, waiting. I have to leave in half an hour. Then, I have an interview. I feel a bit in shock at the moment. I have an interview. It's repeating over and over in my head, I have an interview. I - Damn.

Eyes wide. I've never really had an interview, but I know I'm not comfortable in these situations. It's like, I'm pretty sure I won't make a fool of myself, but can I be confident enough to not stumble over my answers to whatever he asks me? What if I truly don't know the answer?

*takes deep breath* You know what? Oh well. Let's not worry. Straight back, confident smile, we're good. Nothing to worry about. It's not the end of the world, it's not the impending-end of the world, I'll live through this however it comes out to be. It matters none whether I fuck it up or not, because life will continue and I will continue, and nothing will be the worse for wear. Yeah, and you know what? I think I believe it.

*sighs* Thank god.

Half an hour, and what to do? Hmm. Drink a glass of white grape and raspberry juice, read some more of my book, and relax. It's not the end of the world. And why does it always take me so long to figure that out? *smiles, rolls eyes* Because I'm obstinate. Lol. Yeah, right.

I'm allowed to be blind sometimes, aren't I?

*sighs again* I need to read a book about Eleanor of Aquitaine, or Bess of Hardwick, or someone of that nature. Someone strong.

Hm. Well, time to go, in any case. I cannot linger forever. :D

Anchor.

"I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever.
I'll be there for you through it all,
Even if saving you sends me to Heaven."
-Your Guardian Angel (Red Jumpsuit Apparatus)

I think I might understand this. It's been a while since I've talked of him, M. I mean. You might remember him, and if you don't, oh well. Well, maybe I don't like him like that, but still, I guess I care. He's a friend, however annoying sometimes. I've known him for four and half years, after all. And today he comes out with this note. This note that says he wants to end his life, and he's asking for a reason not to. Fuck. Now? Of all times, now?!

This sort of thing, this subject, is rather touchy right now. I commented on the note, and I sent him an email. I hope I helped. God knows it's something I never had in the moment.

And sometimes, like now, I really wish I could have a hug. I think I want one. Someone warm, something to anchor myself to at this moment. That steadiness that I don't have all the time, that's what I want right now.

I have a week off, and an interview for a scholarship tomorrow. Otherwise, I'm sort of free to read and think, most of all think. This may not be good, but it's necessary. I have homework that I need to do, as well. I shouldn't forget that. *sighs*

Anyway. Good night y'all. And if you can do anything for me, after you read this, find someone and give them a hug. The difference it makes, is more than you think, is more than you know. One hug. Just one. That's all I have to say. Sleep well. I'm done.