Solar~ {The Life And Time Of}

Okey, so i think i'm finally ready to tell my story and all. sorry if you fall asleep when reading this.

The Beginning

When i was younger, i was always into this extremely creative, happy, free thing. up until third grade, i was your average, not-so-average little girl.

i do remember, though, in third grade, debating whether i wanted to be preppy or gothic. i thought being goth was soooo cool back then, but being peppy was really enjoyable.

and then in fourth grade, i started obsessing over being creative and positive. 'anything's possible!' i always said. it was.. unbearable, now that i think back at it. sickening. it was unreal.

and then that lasted until about the end of fifth grade. then..

The Changes

Lunar started getting into this depression thing. she had her nickname be 'depression13'. once i recall asking her if she was ACTUALLY depressed. i can't remember her answer, though. i also recall her once saying that she could 'so pull of being emo'.

i guess she kind of started it for me. i started trying to go for whole days without smiling, laughing, or talking. i failed, of course, but i did manage to go for the majority of the day without any of them. i started wearing my mum's black sweaters and trying to write [poser] depressing poems.

towards the last days of fifth grade, this one guy, who cut himself* said to me 'oh, you're so emo,' in a kind voice. i replied 'no i'm not,' just not to seem to be trying too hard. 'don't be so modest!' he told me.

*looking back, it's really surprising that a fifth grader could do that. in class, he would dig the pencil into his hand. once, he carved spongebob on it! i'm not really clear how deep it ever was, but even so.. this guy was really laid-back and i think i had a crush on him at one point.. but anyway.

i can't remember when, but i think during the end of fifth grade i started cutting myself. i remember the first time, but even before that, when i was younger, i used to LOVE having bruises cover my legs. i loved seeing all the brown and blue spots, all the cuts and scratches. it delighted me.

but my first time- it wasn't rerally out of msery. i just wanted to try it; to know i could do it. in the bathroom, i had tweezers. odd, i know. i had to go over the spot on my arm a million times, but finally, a little tiny streak of blood came, and barely lasted, but i did it.

i did it.

i used that method a few other times, but moved onto scissors. and after, my dad's razor blade: my weapon of choice to this very day.

going into sixth grade, i though myself so cool. sixth grade was pretty much just from going to completely poser to almost actually emo..

Things.. Complicate

January 11, 2007. about 10:00 a.m. and in language arts.

they called me down.

the day before, in science class, the teacher saw lunar's arm and sent her to the guideance counselor. i guess while she was down there, lunar mentioned me.

so they took what lunar said and brought me on down. to the down under.

i was so freaked out.

i immediately started sobbing. 'you know why you're here?' i managed to say yes through all of my woes. eventually, she called my mum, who picked me up. i felt so AWFUL. so truly horrible. i did not want my mum to know. i did not want to upset her. so badly do i regret her ever knowing.

mum picked me up with a blank face. we didn't really say anything unti l i got in the car. 'you okey?' mmm-hmm. we stopped at dairy queen and then went home. for a few hours, she called and tried arranging appointments.

finally, she found someone. HIM..

The Start of the Appointments

During this short duration of appointments, i was even MORE miserable than i had been before i was meeting with them.

the guy i went to was named jim. and i hated him from the start. i'm not going into details with him, but i will describe the dude.

old. soft voice. his pants were too short. he acted.. liek a lady. yet he was married to a lady. he had a warped way of looking at things and guessed what was wrong with me WAYYY of the mark. i will admit, the first meeting i told him a lot of stuff. and ashamed of that i am.

at the end of the appointment, i KNEW i couldn't stand him. so i had my mum get me an appointment with a lady for monday.

she was.. in so many words, worse. she was old, and asked twisted questions to me liek 'do you enjoy ripping wings of butterflies?'

WHAT?! who did she think i was?! i think that she was the one in serious need of counseling.

so, then, next friday i went back to jim. but, not without a fight. all day, i begged my mum 'i will NOT go. i can't! I HATE HIM! i friggen hate him!'

i was forced into it.

he gave me two pieces of paper- one with faces on it and one with words- with emotions on it.

i am relieved to say that after that, i stopped seeing counselors. the END!

i needed not somebody ELSE to tell me how i thought. i could do it alone.

A. A. {After Appointments}

After the appointments, things weren't really getting better. i cut liek a maniac, only on my shoulders and thighs. there were certain words in which if mentioned, i'd go completely stiff. i was full of anger. i hated everything. i would break down at night. i swore liek crazy. EVERYTHING offended me.

so, moving on into the summer..

In the Summer

-will finish later-