i called obie last night, my therapist from high school. i called him in college when i remembered about my brother. he made me promise not to do anything to myself until he called me on saturday, and then as a reward i could cut myself while he talked to me. i don't go back on promises.
you bitch, you made me cry at work. the thing is, this isn't me. this isn't my head working against me. this is outside forces fucking with me and she's not going to stop unless i leave. congratulations, she won.
he said, "she's lying [that we fucked in your car]. we only made out in your car. she's trying to destroy you. she's so resentful, she's so jealous, she wants what we have."
what we had, dear.
marshall said, give it a month and they'll get together, and here's why: aaron is nothing without a girlfriend and claire is nothing without something to control.
i was so ready to die last night. i had it all figured out. slit the wrists, upwards of course, and fall asleep on his bed. oh, it was going to be so nice, so sweet. joanna and i used to talk about how that would be the best revenge: blaming someone else for your suicide. she would never do that. i could.
nym showed up right after my second panic attack yesterday. he gave me a huge hug. i believe i've mentioned before that nym hugs are the best hugs ever, but it didn't help anything.
san francisco next weekend. santa barbara the second weekend of april (i already bought my tickets: april 10 to april 14, get fucking psyched and get my money ready). karen offered to fly me to redding this weekend but i hate being a burden on people.
my daddy said that he told my uncle who lives in virginia and he said, "pick me up at the airport, we'll kick his ass." my daddy was kidding. my uncle was not.
i'd rather hurt her. she feels no remorse. she feels nothing.
claire allendorf nolan. if ever you come across this name, run away.