1.

My shrink contacted me today for the first time since my medication problems, and we had a coversation that lasted one minute, fifty-eight seconds. I was coming out of a meeting when she called and she was finished by the time I reached the elevator. I think she was reading questions off of a list. I kind of just stood there in disbelief, thought, "Fuck this," and went to look for the school counselor's contact information.

I have an appointment for Friday and I'm really going to use the time for all its worth. I sooort of know the counselour; she hung out at some GSA meetings for anyone who needed her and I have some friends who see her, too.

I'm sick of discussing my mania, I'm sick of discussing what physical problems I have on my medication, and I'm sick of just being a patient. I'm not on any medication right now and I feel fine and I want myself evaluated before we have another go.

I know I can pinpoint all of my ~personal problems~ to where they started and I really can't wait to talk them out. I've been thinking a lot about how much I've changed in college, and going back, I feel like I was hiding from everything while in high school. I was reading my journals from when I was 12/13 and I could tell week by week how worse I was getting. I could pinpoint individual, cryptic issues and even if I was a different person, I would have been able to tell that it was all going to come to a breaking point. Anyone would have wanted to hide once it was over.

I have to acknowledge that I'm not a bad person before I can finally put it all behind me. I have to truly know that the things that happened to me weren't my fault. I'm overly nice, and I get taken advantage of so fucking easily, because people see how willing I am to bend over backwards. Their anger with me gets turned into twisted guilt. And while in the past couple of years, I've been speaking up for myself and telling people when to gtfo, I still question myself way too much.



2.

All of this is about the camping I did with my Girl Scout troop. I also went to good ol' fashioned GS camp in 4th grade, but that sucked and really isn't worth remembering. (Except for the stuff with my period and a lack of toiletries. PLEASE DON'T ASK.)

1. One trip was in the winter of sixth grade. We didn't leave until late in the evening. 6 moms were coming and they all worked during the day. The drive into the mountains took an hour and a half. We all stopped at McDonalds for dinner. We drove the rest of the way through a really creepy, really cool fog. When we got there, all the moms went to check in while we went to our assigned cabin and chose bunk beds. The other troop we were sharing with showed up a few minutes later. The leader started barking orders and telling us where we were going to sleep. I was 11 and yeah, guys, I've pretty much been a know-it-all twat my entire life, so I ~took control of the situation~ (oh my goddddd) and explained that our leaders had told us where to sleep, and an epic fight worthy of Morgan Freeman narration over who got which bunks broke out in both troops.

It snowed that weekend. It was the second time in my life I'd ever been in it. I've always hated sports so seeing a snow-covered soccer field was like Heaven. Natasha's mom took us on a 3-hour hike up a mountain that morning. Everything was thick with dying fall foliage and we couldn't see the sky until we reached the top. Everyone oooh'ed and aww'ed over the view, but the best part was the lone house I could see 10 miles away. It was hidden behind pine trees, far far away. I could see the bustling lights inside the house, and I instantly knew that I wanted to grow up to be an artist who lived in an electricity-guzzling house surrounded by huge pine trees with fog every morning.

People on religious retreats always have similar feelings when they hike back down a mountain, I guess because of the elevation. But I still loved how light-headed I felt. We had a snowball fight as we made our way back and waved to everyone we saw. I knew that I could live anywhere, as distant from the city as I could without any neighbors, as long as I wasn't alone and had electricity. The moms were all worried I was going to get sick and have to go home since I'd fallen in the mud and was wet, but I laughed it off and told them not to worry. I got sick and had to go home. :|

2. The summer before 7th grade was the most monumental period of my life. We went to a different camp, further east of San Diego, further away. Maybe it's the association of everything else that summer, but I think it marked the end of my childhood. I was bratty, hated all authority (except my parents but shhh), bitched about every social injustice!!11 I felt deemed worthy of bitching about, and was pretty much everything a pre-teen is stereotyped to be.

The cabins and mess hall were all in a line that ended with the most kickass playground in the world. There was a wooden structure about three stories tall. You could enter by various steps or by climbing a 30-foot wide rope net. There was a huge oak tree with a single swing and we stood in line to go on for HOURS. I've never seen one go so high before except at carnivals. I remember myself and another girl from my troop pushing one of the younger ones in the waning sunlight, when everyone else was sleepy. The sun was always shining through the trees. I think we'd ditched some of the optional activities (we tried archery but hated it and decided to bounce to the petting zoo.)

We went on a midnight hike to up a solid granite mountain face. At the top, about 100 of us sat there and listened to ghost stories. There were lights and speakers hidden there to add ambiance. We came back down and instantly fell asleep. There was a freak thunderstorm the next day, and everyone kept playing despite the rain.

My best friend Chelsea was fighting with her mom, Jane. I remember the other troop leaders being mad at her and watching Chelsea drift further and further away from everyone. The next year, she got kicked out of school for having esctacy in her locker and I don't know what she's doing at this point. I saw her at a craft fair right before I started 9th grade. She told me she wanted to go into Animation. I don't think she graduated high school. She made a livejournal entry about stealing groceries a few years ago and that's the last I've heard from her.

The way my mom talked about it with me, telling a child that another adult was being unfair, made me feel too grown up. It took away my impression that all adults were right no matter how superficially angry I could be at them. The truth was scary but probably saved my life.

I ended up going to that camp twice, but I can't remember which years. I remember being so at peace and thinking that it would be just like living in a commune. (lol no.) I wanted to stay there forever.

3. There was a trip right before 5th grade summer break at the city lake. There was a pygmy horse walking around with a huge shlong almost bigger than the horse itself. And the horse was ready to mate. The keeper kept yelling, "Put that thing away!" at it. That became our way of greeting each other the rest of the weekend. I was horrified when I realized my mom heard me yelling it and knew where it originated, and it was the first time I ever made a sex joke in front of her. But all the leaders quietly agreed, "They are going into middle school, they should learn that phrase."



3. This is my current mood:



4. THIS IS HOW BIG WILLIAM ADAMA'S DONG IS

5. This is the Clown Wras character I have a new Pez dispenser of: Ahsoka. She came with cherry flavored re-fills.