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Sunday, January 18, 2009

I must confess,

that I did spend a rather large part of church this morning considering topics to blog about...

I grab my dad's phone randomly all the time to check if anyone has posted something new or if I have comments. It's becoming a little bit of an addiction. And if you n MySpace, you thought my former addiction to that was bad? That I posted too many surveys in bulletins? That's nothing. This is truly serious ;P

So what were the topics I came up with? I could explain all about David... Which I will soon. Really. Then there was something to do with church. After that, for a while I was occupied with trying to work out just why I was feeling so dizzy, which hasn't happened in ages, and barely ever when I was sitting down.
I vaguely remember forming a physical description of the church but I don't recall what I was going to use that in relation with...
I thought about writing about my sister. But that's out because of those of you who know her, even just a little.
I considered writing about my last year of school, starting in just over a week.
I considered writing about why I even drink, when I was so much against it before.
I considered writing about what I am like with guys. Or perhaps even about Jimit, since he is the closest thing to a rewarding experience I've had with being with a guy. It wasn't bad. But it was pretty empty. And really, that just kinda sucks.
I thought about writing about how I came to stop self harming, for the last time. I think. I would like to say that it's definite, but who knows what will happen?
Writing more about my hospitalisation for overdosing on painkillers also came up. I've written about it here before, but there's a lot I haven't talked about. Not even in my diary, since this has kinda replaced that for now...
And I'd like to talk about it, and I'd like you to listen. Or, in this blogging world, to read.
Writing about what I have done to others to feel that I am loved. Nothing reeeally bad but still. That was an option.
I considered exploring the idea that "the heart is wicked and deceitful above all things".
Then there was the relationship I have with my best friend who I have known for over nine years, and the ridiculous childlike fights we had, which are highly amusing now; just what it is with me and God and all that; how I think religion is the biggest piece of crap along with how offensive I find the "Religion is Bullshit" video on YouTube I found by stand up comic George Carlin because he was not only attacking religion, but mocking a God I believe in in a way that I didn't find amusing at all. My friend and I started watching a couple of his other videos but all of them were so spitefully attacking things that I was quite digusted.

Perhaps instead of thinking of what to write about, I could have tried to come up with a blogger name and all that jazz.

(Oh, by the way, my sunburn has faded majorly, now I just look more brown...)

So. The winning blog matter for today is...

A bit more about the hospitalisation. See, when I catch a bus to the closest shopping centre, it's necessary to change buses, which is done at the bus loop of Flinders Medical Centre. Every time I am there, waiting by myself, memories arise in my mind of that time when I was not just waiting for a bus, but brought there in an ambulance, terrified and trying to convince myself I wasn't. The thing I was most immediately concerned with was my family's reactions. The school had called my dad and he was meeting us there. I knew he would be angry, disappointed, and not really talk. I also didn't realise just how long it was going to take. What was of highest priority for me was not letting my younger sister know. I have always been somewhat protective of her, and even though she knew about my self harm (Thanks mum), I didn't want her to know about this. I was the one who was supposed to be stronger, and look after her. I didn't want her to feel like she had to look after me.
Of course, the school let her know. >.< It took far longer than I expected and I had to stay overnight, so she would have known anyway, but I was still extremely disappointed that I couldn't keep this from her.
I was far more distressed when I realised, many months later, while talking to her, that she thought I had been trying to die. That was not it at all! I was horrified. That she had learned I had overdosed and that must have been running through her mind... she must have been so scared.
I have to go, I'll finish when I get on later tonight.

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