I can't help but cry at times like these. I can't help but just fall to the floor, curl up in a ball and cry. I wish I could just melt into the carpet and disappear forever, so that I wouldn't have to feel this way. I don't want to feel pain anymore. I don't want to love him. I don't want to care about him at all. I wish I could just forget. Just melt away. Or run and never, ever stop.

Apparently Cody's girlfriend wants to meet me. Yeah, you heard that right. Why? Supposedly she just wants to say Hey, and that she doesn't hate me or feel any anger towards me whatsoever. Okay I admit, that is a nice gesture on her part, but...fuck. Like fucking hell I am going to go meet her, and she wants me to come to this party on Friday that her and Cody and a bunch of other people I don't necessarily know or like are going to. It's an SFU thing. Oh, goody, because you know, it's not like SFU was the school I went to on a scholarship and it's not the school where my entire life fell apart and I had to drop out, and those people aren't the people that remind me of all of that, oh not at all. If I am going to meet this bitch I am not going to meet her at a party where she is with the guy I love. Are these people out of their minds? Is she asking to die?

By the way, I am not getting this information from Cody, although I really do want to call him tonight. I know, I'm stupid, and I shouldn't. I'm getting this info from his best friend, who for some reason felt the need to tell me that Cody's in love with her and that he's so happy and that she is "such a great person", not to mention "the coolest person on earth". Oh, and that she is actually one of his best friends, so I assume that Cody must have met her through him.

I should just say her name already. I need to just say it and feel the pain that goes along with it, and maybe, just maybe that will help in the healing process. No more denial or refusing to accept that her name isn't actually Bitch. Her name is Caroline. Caroline, Caroline, Caroline. Fucking Caroline, the bitch who isn't really a bitch. Oh God, why isn't she a bitch? I'd have such an easier time with this if she were a real bitch. If she were a bitch, I'd have a legitimate reason to be angry and unhappy with the situation, I mean I don't want my darling Cody to be stuck with a bitch. Hon, this isn't about you and I...I just don't like seeing you with someone who is so undeserving...

Okay you know what? Fuck it. Just plain fuck it.

Isn't it so funny to watch (or read) my mood changes? I am an emotional roller coaster if there ever was one. When I started off writing this, I was suicidal. I wanted to just jump out my window. I was all prepared to run a hot bath, bring my journal and a pen and write a nice long goodbye letter to everyone I could think of. And then, after writing out the situation, I somehow felt a little bit of the heaviness lift off of my chest. I was more angry than sad. Then I said her name, and actually admitted to the entire world that she isn't in fact a bitch. She's a nice girl. She's not a bitch. She wants to talk to me. She wants to talk to her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend who she must know is completely not over him, and who had a really hard time with the break up. She's not a bitch. I don't have to hate her and I don't have to kill her, because she doesn't deserve it. Wow.

That was a huge, giant step for me. Someone should really throw me a party for that.

So now I don't know what I am feeling. I am by no means okay with all of this, but I'm not crying anymore. I could be if I wanted to, but I've said to myself, Stop. Stop this right now, and let's think about this. You're sitting here, all alone, crying to yourself over a stupid boy. And the reason he is stupid? Because he doesn't want you. That alone makes him an idiot. Think about the bigger picture here. You have lots of friends who love you. When you feel pain, you're not the only one who feels it. Those who love you feel it too. When you choose to let him get to you, you're hurting your best friends too. And that is the last thing you want to do, Kris. You've always said that you wish that your pain could somehow help other people. Well, it doesn't. Your happiness is what helps other people. This is one boy, and what he thinks about you is insignificant when you compare it to what your best friends, your parents and your brother think of you.

I'm going to be strong, for myself and the people who love me. Even those people that I don't know in real life, that I only know online, but who still mean the world to me.

Fuck Cody. I don't need to be upset about any of this right now. There is so much more I could be doing than doing this. Instead of focusing my energy on him, I could focus my energy on things that actually matter.

I feel like going on a crusade and telling each and every person I know how much I love them.

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I am adding this in a few minutues later, I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. I was going to be fine, but then I re-read something I shouldn't have and now I'm down again.

It is times like these when I really believe that depression is the worst disease of all. Perhaps it is incomprehensible to those who have never experienced real depression, but honestly, I would rather have some sort of physically painful illness right now than depression. I am so tired and so frustrated with my mind. I am tired, God, I am tired. I am physically and emotionally drained from having to talk myself out of everything, constantly. I'm tired of fighting my own thoughts. I'm tired, because I've been fighting and fighting, and I have not yet won. I described to someone today a metaphor I came up with, about a line in the sand. When my world fell apart, I was taken all the way back to the starting line. I had to work my way through every obstacle that was thrown at me, and I got through them alive. But there's the finish line, see. It's this line that I cannot cross, and I don't know why. I don't know what to do to finally cross that line. I'm stuck in limbo between the start and the finish, and sometimes I feel like God is just hurling me all the way back to the beginning again. If I could just take a single step over that line, I wouldn't have to look back anymore...but I can't. No matter what I do, I can't.

People try to help me cross that line. My friends are on the other side, cheering for me, Come on! You can do it!. And I am screaming, Help me! Tell me what to do, tell me what to say.... Nobody can reach their arms across that line to pull me over with them. Their hands are open, ready to receive mine, but not until I have taken the step myself. It's like staring blankly at a crowd of people, who are jumping up and down and hollering but you're seeing them in black in white, in slow motion, and in mute. They're people who are wanting something, saying something, looking at you, but you don't understand them. You know you're alone in this. And taking that step alone is hard.

Sometimes I start to think I need medicine again. I need drugs to numb my brain, so that I can stare into space blankly again, and I'll try to cry but I can't, and I'll know that something should be upsetting, but I won't feel anything. Flat affect. I'll lay in my bed completely numb to the world, and I'll return to being the drugged out girl who is constantly dizzy and always nauseous.

I don't like the idea of medicine. I don't want to feel as if I cannot handle this. But can I? Am I? How many times a week do I write in here that I cannot do this anymore, that I can't take it, that I don't want to deal with it?

What am I supposed to do now...


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