Uuh, a lot has happened since my last post... let's see. I went to the doctor, she told me to come back in two weeks... still feeling like shit most days, and getting really sick of waiting and appointments and crap. I guess that's life though. I spent the weekend sleeping, working, babysitting and writing my english isp. It was due Monday but then it wasn't done so I typed it up Monday night and emailed it to my teacher, but I'm pretty sure she still considered it late which means I lost 10% which feels like the end of the world sometimes. Erg. I'm glad it's out of the way though, I feel a tad less stressed.

Art has been crazy busy. I think I only have 4 weeks left of my current classes which is just kinda... fuck. I'm supposed to have two sculptures done and I'm only half done my first one and we can't stay after school to work on stuff anymore... I would truly fail if I hadn't dropped that stupid challenge and change class. Best decision I ever made. I think I'll survive sculpture though, I have a timeline worked in my mind somewhat. I also have a lot of etching, litho and printing to worry about but I'm just not going to think about that right now otherwise my head might explode and I don't think my room would look very cute flooded in tears and splattered with brains.

Monday was a very strange day. Jake and I got into another fight, and I was stressed about sculpture and my english isp so that day was kind of awful. I finished my isp and the sculpture's still well underway and my issue with Jake is mostly resolved, thankfully. It's kind of difficult for me to be happy in our relationship now though... I think I am on the surface, but deep down I'm very conflicted about it. I really hope things can go back to how they were a month ago with him.

Tuesday was a fabulous day, somewhat. I spent the first two periods working on etching and talking to my teacher a lot. Turns out he's good friends with my great uncle who used to teach in bealart. He shared a bunch of stories, and then told me a bunch of stories about many other artists and musicians he knows, and we even got a bit philosophical at one point. He's seriously such an interesting person and inspiring artist. I feel like I get a mini history lesson every time I talk to him. That made me really happy, because I rarely talk to anyone other than Michelle at school. I greatly prefer talking to teachers over students. Anyway, at lunch and for part of my spare, I hung out with my friend Jordan again. We hang out once or twice a week now which also makes me happy. It's nice to have a new friend, and we have a lot in common. He's in the art program too. Yaaaay friends, wow I'm lame. Unfortunately when I went to English I started feeling terribleterribleterrible, and it only got worse on the bus. I went to sleep as soon as I got home, woke up to go to guitar, was kind of shitty at playing, then I went home and back to bed, though it took me hours to fall asleep.

The following morning was worse. I'm pretty sure I had a nightmare or something (I've been having a lot of those lately) and I woke up late and missed my bus. The city buses were really annoying that morning, so I got to school around nine and was feeling crappy, but I instantly felt better when I saw Michelle. We worked on litho and blasted radiohead in the studio all morning. It was lovely! Then I had lunch with Jake and his friends, which wasn't so lovely. I don't like his friends when they're all together. They're nice people individually, but something about putting guys together just makes for a douchebagfest sometimes. Or maybe I was just feeling extra sensitive that day. I sat with Justin and worked on my etching over my spare which was okay. English made me miserable though. More miserable than usual. I can't explain it, but by the time I got on the bus I was ready to breakdown in tears. I didn't though, because I was with Michelle and I hate crying in front of people. So I hugged my backpack and looked out the window. It just kept getting worse and worse when I got home. I couldn't stop thinking about suicide. The idea was just there and so firm and my mind was hurting me so horribly. I couldn't cry or listen to music, I just laid in my bed and felt awful for a few hours. Korrin texted me saying she could go to The Faceless show, but I felt so miserable that I didn't want to move and cancelled on her. Then I realized I'd been looking forward to it for a month and I would probably regret not going, so I somehow found the will to get out of bed, get ready and go. I'm so glad I did. The concert was fucking awesome. All of the bands were really good, and I saw some people I hadn't seen in a while. I moshed during the faceless in a pit consisting of decently big men and two other girls. It was so fantastic to just get lost in aggressively appreciating the music. Someone fell on my ankle and it twisted weirdly and hurt a lot, so I was limping on the way home and all this morning. It's fine now though. I also bashed heads with someone which hurt a retarded amount, but other than that, I'm alive! I miss shows and moshing so ridiculously much. It made me feel a thousand times better.

Now we're up to this morning. I was freaking out for a bit of first period, feeling terrible and frantic again, but then I got really into my sculpture and worked on it for almost 4 hours. The skull is basically done! Now I just have to make the tentacles, so I think it shall be ready to be fired on Monday. Then I can start my second sculpture. I think I'm going to make a person that is kind of like a mermaid, but instead of having a fin, it has tentacles and the tentacles are going to be strangling said person. It was inspired by my shitty mood, representing self destruction. I guess I have a bit of an octopus theme going, fun stuff. Around 12:30, my mom picked me up and we went to prince al's. Then I bought Jake's Christmas present. It's frickin' fantastic. After that, I went to my first therapy meeting. I was really nervous about it at first and have been contemplating cancelling it for the longest time because I just didn't want to talk. It wasn't so bad though. The waiting room is kind of... strange. It feels like they tried too hard to make it seem like home, which is supposed to be comforting, but is for some reason more off-putting. I went into a dimly lit room to talk to one of the doctors and I was horribly anxious but she was kind of easy to talk to. I felt more comfortable around her than any other doctor I've ever talked to. The way she listened to my answers and further elaborated on what she guessed I was feeling... it's hard to explain, but she knew so well what I was going through that I almost asked her is she had social anxiety and depression too. She was also the first doctor to make me feel like I was genuinely important. All the other doctors make both issues sound like they're not a big deal, just because of how common they are. This lady was frickin' awesome though. I guess in a week or so, I'm going to start seeing a therapist. I also have a meeting with a social worker later this month. I don't know. All this treatment stuff is really weird and scary, but I guess I'm happy it's finally happening. I've been dealing with these feelings since 5th grade and they've only gotten more intense through the years. I'm kind of terrified by the idea of breaking out of this awful mindset and constant sadness, but I guess it's going to be a good thing.

There's my super long post of everything lately. I'm still feeling really stressed and worried right now, but I'm trying not to be. I'm going to fill out a questionnaire from my therapy place now. Goodnight blogger.