School. Work. Lessons. People. In a healthy mind-set, most people would enjoy these things, right? I waffle back and forth. I’ve always felt that there was something the matter with me (why couldn’t I focus in class; why did I feel trapped inside a room of even my closest friends?) but now I’m almost convinced that something is wrong. I’m almost a junior, now, and have bipolar grades and a strange attitude.  I’m not depressed again… am I? Could I be clinical again, even with the successes of the past year? Is that why I feel like self-injuring every day–craving it?

It’s strange, because things are going well for me. I tank a class but next marking period get an A+. I’m yelled at when at work, but my coworkers seem to like me (And I hope I’m doing a good job).  And, of course, my boyfriend is amazing. He makes me smile so much that my face hurts… something to be reckoned with for a band geek. However, I’m finding myself distancing from my thoughts–quieting them and not wallowing in the inner angst and turmoil as I once did. I wonder at my lack of decisiveness for my future life; all of my friends have chosen their career paths. I wonder if this peace of mind is not something deeper–darker–and frightening, because as I smile at the beauty of the dandelions and the sunshine outside, I don’t imagine myself beyond highschool. I don’t imagine myself living that long.

Perhaps I’m melodramatic. I’ve been losing weight and that always seems to make me more lethargic. I don’t know, though. Maybe no one does.