February 13, 2009

Take me to the river, drop me in the water

Warning: Angsting. Angsting hard.

Holla at ya person. You all know I have to go super hard with everything, including emotions.

I've been feeling homesick lately. I think it's homesickness. I really hope so because there's no excuse for random suicidal thoughts. I mean, I have these sometimes, but recently it's been sort of intense. I'm assuming it's homesickness because it's always connected to home...

I hate myself for bringing it up to my mother that I'll be home in May. It sounded more like I was trying to convince myself that I'll be home soon, not her. Sure May isn't all that far off and I'm already pretty well acclimated to dorm living as it were. Other than Housing coming after me (and I ignore them pretty well) I've been okay.

But...I dunno. I guess suddenly I want to be home right now. It's so empty & lonely here on the weekends, walking through the halls of this dorm & on the street is kind of creepy and well, depressing. Everyone's at home or out with friends, I can't go home OR go out with friends.

I've had to start sleeping with my TV on to drown out my own thoughts. My mind goes overactive usually just before I go to sleep, I think that's a normal occurrence. "What did I do today, why didn't I go to that class, wow that sushi was really awesome, did I get more than 400 calories today (no, that's why I'm hungry now)". You know, shit like that. But then you'd usually go to sleep, whereas I...well, I stay awake and think about incidents from eight, ten years ago. The memories won't let me sleep. I turn the TV on and screw my eyes shut and pretty much do the "LALALALALA~" routine. Lately I've started hitting my headboard and that rather hurts, but the pain takes me mind off...me mind.

So that's actually where the suicidal thoughts come from believe it or not. And...well, I think it was Tuesday night, as I hovered there between sleep and sort-of-sleep (I sleep like a cat), I thought of my dad. I thought of one particular incident where we got into an argument and later I ended up hugging him. I could...feel it so vividly and realized that over Christmas break I didn't get to see him much, let alone hug his tall, squishy self.

I thought my tear ducts were going to go into overload, and for about 5 minutes I wanted to die like that would have done any good. I wanted to die with that feeling of hugging his tummy. I come up to his chest, but I always end up hugging his tummy because it's all soft and familiar and secure. I wanted to DIE. I started thinking about all the stuff I'd read up until that point and wanted to die. I thought about cutting (I don't think I've ever mentioned I'm a former mutilator) and wanted to absolutely die. Then I just wanted to be at home.

And that, ladies and gents, is how hard I do with homesickness. And why I avoid it at all costs. This is actually only the second time I've felt that intensely about going home, and the first I've ever connected it with dying *blink* very weird...but this too shall pass.

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