lillian m. blakey moon_window




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Sunlight on Earth

� Copyright 2006-2012
Thursday, May. 29, 2008 - 3:31 am

=*=



It seems like d-land is having as much of a breakdown tonight as I am...it'll be great if the site stays up long enough for me to cut and paste and click 'done!'

Anyway, I got my ID, well sort of, they mail them to us now, so I have my temporary very forgable-looking 1994 inkjet quality b&w paper ID...so this way all the criminals my dad is friends with who work in the post offices can not only print out the temporary ID's, (they'd have to do it in draft quality on new printers) they can have a 20-days chance to steal the real ones before they'll ever get to us.

When my name was called, the woman mispronounced it, emphasizing a very distict "R"...there is no R in my name, and those of you who know my name, know which name she called me. My photo is as bad as i feared it would be. And, ironically, it looks nothing like me. I'd cried till 4 am the night before. The man told me I had to take my glasses off, this is to scan the eyes electronically and protect my identity (something tells me a photo that actually looks like me might do the same). I'm slightly cross-eyed in my blind eye, which looks like it was trying to see...something other than the jerk taking my photo. My hair looks like i stuck my finger in an electrical outlet, and when the woman said smile, I tried but couldn't, so I look kind of annoyed. He nor she did any sort of countdown, and I was slightly shocked by the suddenness of the blindingly bright flash. To top that all off, the man did not tell me I was off-center in the photo and to scoot over a few inches, so I appear to be sliding off the photo. He also got me from the neck up, so I also look like I've been decapitated. The woman even mentioned it to him, but he said it was fine. Quite a few people got to do-over their photos, I was not so lucky. My mother closed her eyes and zoned out, as she does too often in public places. I had to tap her shoulder to let her know that I was done and that we could go.

After that I braved the second largest roadway in this town, it is 5 lanes, in some places 6, and I was happy to head down a much quieter street that cuts through. We got to get the mail, which included my ordered books, and headed for the library, the grounds of which has been over-taken by...prairie dogs. The cutest rodents ever, but nippy and yippy if you get too close. After that, we called my transportation to ask them if we could get picked up a block down the road, they said no, and that we would be waiting up to 2 hours extra if we asked to be picked up at the other end of the block...so we walked to get the half-dozen donuts, as well as orange juice, and walked back to the library afterwards. My transportation was almost an hour late. It was exhausting to sit and wait that long. They don't care.

That was my day "out". I only remember that I ate 3 donuts when we got home.

My room is rearraged, fully. I just need to go through my 'crap' and discard the old catalogs and papers I no longer need and probably never needed. My fears of being completely alone here again and arguing with W so much, making my fear inevitable, led to me pulling my hair so badly, I cannot cover it. I also really hate admitting that part of trich, has made me stroke the fully bare spot all day and it feels really soft and soothing. Even though it hurts and is tingly, it feels good. ??? And I hate that. I HATE THIS. Because it makes me hate myself, as I do. I am fucking ugly like this. And I really want it to end. But I can't. I've tried. I try every day, and i zone out and poof, a few more hairs are gone.

Before me and W really argued, he gave me the name of a co-worker who is a student counselor, and told me to call her at the agency she is doing her internship at. When we argued, part of it was over the fact that I have not called her. To sum up his response, he told me that it's up to me to help myself, it's not up to him to take me places or help me get better by hanging out with me or going out to eat or for a walk or drive and to get over myself or shut up about it. I kind of thought, apparently wrongly, that "friends" hang out and do things together. I told him that he either doesn't understand or doesn't care...which led to me crying. He told me the day before my birthday, the day I asked to see him to hang out and have fun and celebrate, that he did nothing at all but play video games, he told me the day before that that he would be really busy doing pilot training. But he wasn't busy, and he didn't consider spending any time with me for my birthday. So I asked to see him this week, and he said he can't because he is "going to busy all the time starting very soon". I asked why, and he got mad that I asked, and he said "cause I am". When I told him that he must really hate me, he got furious. And because he is the only person I know here, I feel like shit over this.

In short, since my birthday, pretty much everything that doesn't involve Josh has made me feel worse about myself to some extent. Being 28, and pretty much feeling like a freak for having been so sick for so long, and not knowing how to tell "normal" people or having them leave when I do, doesn't help me have self-esteem. My room looks really nice right now, and I know that within a week there will be small piles of even more of my hair on my floor. I also know that, except for a few more trips to the store down the street, that will be the most "socializing" with the world outside of my room that I'll have for a while, if not all summer. No wonder I'm sleeping in till 2 and 3pm every day now. It's why i'm up at now...2 am, I'm not tired yet from sleeping so much. And P emailed me to let me know that he and his gf are re-visiting this stupid town the first week in July, and asked if i'll be around. I haven't responded, because the answer is likely to be "not really", or yes, but i'm not the same person you knew a year ago, P. I'm much balder, cry much more easily, and feel fake when i smile. Last time I talked to P in April, after 4 months had passed, I also got annoyed with his insane desire to experience happiness and pleasantry 24/7...my life is neither happy nor pleasant since he move away. To P, if life is not pleasant, you drink, or take hallucinogens to make it so. How did i ever be-friend a pot head? Do I like him, I did, I'm not sure now as I didn't feel like I could talk to him last time we talked, well I barely talked as he was too busy bragging about how happy he is to be him. I didn't want to ruin his self-basking.

Anyway, I've tried talking to people on forums, I have at least 8 accounts elsewhere, but whenever I posted, the people completely ignored my posts and talked to each other as if i never posted at all. I was once replied to with a note from the person saying my thoughts were not helpful, though everyone else's on the thread were helpful. It's why I gave up. This one tiny diary, is really the only communication I have with the outside universe where it doesn't matter to me if anyone is listening, or doesn't respond, or doesn't understand, or if what I say is so stupid and pointless that the person wants to hurl...I didn't make them click the link on google, or on d-land. And it's my own voice, however small. And the thoughts are all from my own head, however bald...

~e

=*= one day i'll fly away =*=

most recent entries:

waving white flags - Wednesday, Sept. 27, 2017

yeah so, stuff is happening... - Monday, Sept. 18, 2017

my mind is on the blink - Tuesday, Sept. 12, 2017

How stupid of me - Saturday, Sept. 09, 2017

finally breaking down - Monday, Sept. 04, 2017