I Wanna Be Joan Cusack

2003-03-25 - 4:04 p.m.

'boohoo, poor poor me'

My sleeping habits have slipped into that scary, unhealthy place. I'm up until five or six in the morning and then I sleep all day. It's the same as when my mom was sick. That fear of sleeping in the dark. That fear of what I may dream in the dark.

But this time it's a little different, because I'm not so much afraid of dreaming the things I refuse to see or believe. This time I guess I'm afraid of reliving this thing I'm trying to forget. This thing that happened to me.

My point? Right.

I need to get this under control. All of it. My whole life. I can't keep tossing the nights away. Sleeping the days away. I can't keep myself holed up in this apartment like a prisoner much longer. Sometimes I play this game with myself to see how long I can go without speaking at all. To anyone. I usually get freaked out somewhere around the third day. Because I forget what my voice sounds like. And I start to feel like maybe I'll forgot how to talk. So then I start talking to myself. Yep, I'm crazy.

Maybe I should start packing things up. Maybe I should get started in this whole process of moving. Of starting over. It would give me something to do, I suppose. Something to focus on and work toward. I just feel so hopeless. Like everything's in vain. Like my whole life is this lie and no one will ever know me. And I hate that. It sucks.

�

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