Tonight Chris was all like “if you’re so depressed and lonely why don’t you just go to bed” but I hate sleeping I HATE SLEEPING so much. It terrifies me. I used to run to my parents’ room screaming and crying because I thought I was going to die if I fell asleep (and they made fun of me. huzzah). Even if I’m super incredibly depressed and feel so alone and hate everything, I’m not going to just go to bed. I don’t know. Only physical exhaustion that drags me under and forces me to sleep… without it I won’t. I just won’t. Ugh.
Also I don’t know why this week has been just like SUPER DEPRESSED AND ANGSTY FUN TIMES but it has been. I’m incredibly, painfully lonely. Everyone has other things to do. And that’s cool for them. But when people don’t text me back and there’s nobody online and my dash is completely dead and I can’t even get random strangers on creepy dating sites to talk to me, not even to be pervy and say rude things, they just completely ignore me… asdlfkjaslkdjf. It makes it a thousand billion times worse.
I’ve been writing letters and making mix cds and reading books for the family of travelling books and keep attempting to reach out to people, bleh.
I want to be someone else. I want someone else’s life. Not this one. I want to change myself into the kind of person who has friends. Who has awesome things happen to them. Who has people come up and talk to them.
It’s like when I DID have friends I got so annoyed when people would try and sit at my table in the school cafeteria or talk to me on the sidewalk like fuck off random person I want to be alone, but now I’m sitting at the work cafeteria like PLEASE SOMEONE JUST TALK TO ME because I don’t know how to talk to them, and I’m at the library wandering the shelves wishing that someone would strike up some lame conversation with me like you always see people do in movies. In movies, everyone ALWAYS meets their friends in chance encounters at supermarkets and book stores. Strangers are ALWAYS like “Oh hey you like that thing? nice shirt. Haha we’re running into each other in front of the oranges let’s talk about our lives” but that shit doesn’t happen.
If I didn’t live with another human being, I would probably go DAYS without speaking to another living person. The cashiers don’t even like talking to me. And I’m very good (or used to be very good) at starting conversations. Blah.
I’m worried that the lonelier I get, the more I send of literal waves of desperation and people are somehow able to sense that I NEED them to talk to me so badly that it makes them avoid me. I feel like I’m not acting any differently but maybe something about me just seems creepily desperate.