Today is Tuesday. Tomorrow is Wednesday. Tomorrow I am getting some nerves in my back burned with radio waves. Why am I excited? Because maybe for once in my life I can go a day without limping around like House. Maybe for once in my life when I go to school nobody will ask me if I'm fucked up.
Sometimes I think, what if this is how it's supposed to be, you know? What if this is how I'm supposed to live? This has made me tougher like nothing else has, I can no longer cry. The last time I remember truly crying is the day they rolled me into surgery. My mother cried first then, too. I think I get to choose what I get to do with myself. My pain is my own and I can do what I choose with it. Either living with it or doing something about it.
I don't need anyone's thoughts or anything like that. I'm tough and I'm usually smiling. I like writing about this, though, because it actually helps me immensely.
My mother likes to encourage me to have some hope in things such as this procedure, or aqua aerobics, working out, cardio, etc etc. Dear mom, I wish you could jump into my shoes. We have tried all these things and have they helped? No, they havent. Lying in bed and taking pills and occasional alcohol are the only things I can count on. This is rather unfortunate.
Modest Mouse makes me happy.
Lydiah Merritt has been my friend for 3 years. i'm happy.
doin the cockroach, yeah.
something I wrote today:
they make fun of me everyday
i really don't know why
i don't really care
i've been made fun of all my life
for some reason
I really don't know
why but I like how I've turned out.
whenever I get made fun of I just
have to think of you
I think of how you talk about me and my
oreo grin and my middle finger
I think about how
fucking insane I am and
about the time you bitched at me
the time I bitched at you
and I remember how it didn't really
matter because I had you
And you had me
before and after it
was still the same.