Today was awful.

I'm I feel like I'm about to cry.

I would really like just going to do the test and going back home, I really got no power for fucking anything. 

I'm not even going to go to the maths last period today, pre-test practise. 

I know I need it, but I won't go to it. 

I'm screwing up my life, don't I?

Yep, I'm probably making now a mess that I can't fix. 

I don't want to do fucking anything. 

At least I had some good sleep. 

Sure, I woke up at two am, and had this sleep-wake-sleep-wake thingy since then, but I slept!

I wish that staying at home was a possibility. 

I feel like shit but in the same time I feel like it's just because I'm so confused by the impossibility of things. 

This is even not one of the problems that faith in God will help, it's fucking bad. 

"God" is not even an answer. 

My toes are long. 

But at least I'm not insecure about them. 

I know Mike was insecure about his toes. 

I still don't know why Mike was at shalvata. I find it hard to believe that because of his transsexuality or because of his religious believes [I don't remember whether it was a Mage or a warlock, he wasn't Wiccan as far as I remember] maybe like every other person who isn't dangerously violent, depression or suicide attempts or like me, accidentally in there. 

It's five to seven and I'm still in bed. 

I should get up and at the very least brush my damn teeth. 

My breath is awful, but it's because that I don't eat much. 

The test is now. 

I got no fucking power to do it. 

I'd ask my mother if I can go back home. 

I'm home. 

I slightly regret it. 

Instead of lying in my bed and deciding that feelings are stupid, I'm in the bathroom, fighting the urge to cry. 

My mother sometimes got the words that'll just make everything worse. 

I really want now to spend the coming couple of days in bed without moving. 

I know that it's stupid by any fucking mean, but I don't want anything. 

I miss the cuts. 

I wish I had them now. 

If I wasn't that looked upon, untrusted and unable, I was fucking enjoying treating them and cleaning the blood. 

I don't want to go to the practise, and I don't want to go to school, hell, I don't even want to see my friends at the cabria and eat flafel with them. 

And I don't tranquillisers. 

How the fuck would it help to a person that's not even fucking anxious now?!

That'll be better for my parents, thinking that if I took X than I must feel better. 

I just want to stop. 

I can't see now because of the tears. 

I'm just sitting on the top of the toilet. 

I want to take a shower and hop into bed, and fall asleep every two hours. 

And listen to music. 

And read things from people with pretty good ideas, or people that "get me". 

I don't want any fucking thing. 

I just want to pretend that I don't exist. 

I want to relax. 

I want to die. 

And the thought of killing myself now makes me cry, I think it's because I know that it's actually be better if I do so but I'm so fucking awful that I can't get myself to finally do it and save the people who have, are, and will suffer from me breathing. 

Oh please!

Stop being so bitchy. 

You know what? I think I'll...

I don't know. 

From one side, I don't got power for anything.

But from the other side, my mother's endless rudeness an bitchiness is fucking awful. 

I don't want to do anything. 

I just started crying earlier.
Just fucking tears streaming down my face.

I just feel bad, I don't even know if I want to go to the practise.
I don't want to get kicked out from the sports class, because I don't know what I'd do without it, but I don't want to do anything else either.

Okay, I went to the practise. 

It was awful, my body was in an enormous amount of pain. 

But I went through. 

Irena praised me for my results at the 1.5K run. 

Yael got pissed because of it, she wanted it too, but she doesn't get that no difference in her result of the top fifth,  is great, but improving your score so much that it was about 30-40 in number, that's impressive. 

Sure if I was at the top fifth or ten it was even more of a shock, but I'm pretty cool with my top fifteen. 

You know, I'm not sure I'd be able to hold until Monday. 

Next Monday in going to the only available psychiatrist. 

Because of that from some reason every damn psychiatrist is out of the area. 

I forgot how nice classical music can be. 

Sleep Away of Bob Acri. 

Oh, the psychiatrist changed it to tomorrow! This Monday, in less than a twenty-four hours I'd be there.

That means that in twenty four or so, I'd take my first psychiatric medication,
That's really weird.
I just feel very excited, or anxious, or tired.
Fuck I want to sleep.
It's not even seven yet.