Anything that reminds me of my "different state" angers me. Then it depresses me.
A foreword of sorts: this is MY journal. As such, I feel entitled to say exactly what is on my mind. I need it. I need it so badly.
Someone at work just had a baby. Someone I know is pregnant. Back when we first learned of my condition, I cried a lot. I eventually thought, "The worst thing would be if someone I know becomes pregnant soon." Then like magic, it happened.
I'm too damn young to be dealing with this. Inside, I feel a very dark voice crying out. As it cries, a very thick, tar-like substance covers it. It eventually drowns out the voice, and only a large empty hole remains. Haha, I often imagine my mind like Samara from "the Ring". Not menacing Samara though. Dark Samara. "Falling into a freaking abyss" Samara. Freaking helpless.
I pray, a lot. On and off this weekend, I've found myself begging to God to provide me with solace. With comfort. Maybe the dark voice I feel inside is not crying in anger. It's begging to be pulled out of darkness.
Friday was a pretty alright day. Until nighttime. Then all hell broke loose inside. Yesterday my eyes were still evidence of how rough the night got. I eventually went on: at work, I helped set up for today's conference. Then I went to my second photography lesson in downtown Bryan, which after an hour or so helped me forget. It helped me smile again. It was so much fun, actually: two models, two cameras, and wonderfully unique backdrops. I loved feeling free from those awful feelings, and I loved forgetting about the truth of my condition.
We're supposed to have lunch with some of Sam's friends today. I know life goes on. I have to move on.