The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain
jenni_the_odd

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Two thousand and four.

I am swigging sparkling apple cider because I am not old enough to legally buy alcohol. Nicole insists I am merely afraid to drink, because if I really wanted to, I could find someplace that would sell it to me now. She always says I am afraid of everything. I am. I am kind of afraid to drink because I get the feeling that once I start, I will not stop. It's the same reason I stay away from most drugs. I could have done any number of things easily - friends had them, offered them, did them right beside me. I turned them down because I know it would be so fucking easy. I've always had a sneaking suspicion that I could be perfect if I could just... get rid of me. Right combination of pills and powders can do that real well. But some nagging fragment of self-preservation instinct stubbornly refuses to let me just fucking kill it. So I try to scrape away at it bit by bit and hope every night that it dies while I sleep.
But yeah, 2004.

I posted on LJ less this year than ever before.
I moved back home.
I lost weight, then gained weight, then lost weight, then gained weight, then lost weight, then... Anyway. The end result of which is a slight gain from this point last year.
I turned 20, a useless age save for the fact that I no longer feel compelled to apologize to the world for the behavior of teenagers because I am no longer one myself.
I started to draw a bit again.
I would not say I am happier, only that I cannot express anything as much because there are always people around who know me, who would ask questions.
I cut off my physical interactions with most of my friends - all of them, towards the end of the year. I went beyond no longer offering companionship to outright refusing their offers.
I had a second decent semester in my college career, the first being my first semester. I lose at college, for those not keeping track. I lose badly.
I got a job that, while there is no hope for any real advancement or any chance of my being able to support myself with it, allows me a little money to spend and save.

Goals for next year the same as they have been since I was old enough to know what New Years resolutions are, and thus old enough to know they are worthless. Lose weight, lose self, gain ability to focus and study and do as I'm told and quit whining so much.

I panic as soon as I post this. This is supposed to be the happy journal. The positive side. Oh well.
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