Yeah, I had to reset it again ... couple of days ago. I got distracted, and began thinking, "There's no Khibin way I'll make it a month anyway!"

Now I'll just take it one day at a time.

I ordered a "Trying to Stop" bracelet from Recover your life
though. Just something to wear until I make it one month and get my free bracelet.

Another Drabble

These things are fun. It's kind of challenging, but I like trying to capture a moment in only a few words. Here's one I wrote this afternoon, when I decided to take off my sweatshirt.

National Wear a T-Shirt Day

When my girlfriend walked out of the closet, she was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that showed off the numerous cuts and scars that covered her arms. It was an unusual sight.

“Thought you like sweatshirts?” I asked as soon as I recovered from the shock.

She grinned at me. “It’s National Wear A T-shirt Day!”

I glanced out at the falling snow, where temperatures hovered just below zero. Most people were wearing heavy jackets. For some reason it didn’t make sense to me. “Shouldn’t that be in the summer?”

The young woman’s grin fell as she looked outside. “Damn Aussies.”

Drabble

I recently learned about drabbles, thanks to Doctor Who. A drabble is a story that is exactly 100 words. So I sat down and wrote one about my anxiety attack. I would post it right now, but I think I'm going to wait until after I "sit down and talk." (I didn't talk to her yesterday, in fact, she never called me back. I can only assume she is in great pain. But it's not like she ever called me before. I doubt we'll talk today, but there is no doubt that when I see her at work Monday she'll say something.)

What the heck. I'll post it. It's called "Panic Attack."

I’d never been so afraid. But I knew I had to hand you the letter right then, at that moment, or you’d never trust me again. I couldn’t bear that.

The moment you left, I panicked. My heart and soul was in that letter. I had admitted that I had fallen in love with you. I thought you would hate me.

I wished that I could take it back, oh how I wished! However, you told me to be completely honest, to admit my love to whoever it was. Bet you didn’t guess.

Bet you thought I liked boys.

I also learned about 55 word stories, or "55-lets." So I wrote one of those, too. But it's about a compleatly different subject. (Thanks goodness! You'd think there's nothing else going on in my life!)

I call it: "What the mother said." I feel as though it doesn't quite capture what happened, and might be a little confusing. I plan to rewrite this as a drabble.

The two year old grinned as she pulled her favorite toy into the living room.

Suddenly her mother yanked the child up by her arm. “No! Trikes don’t belong in the house!”

“What’re you doing?” her sister cried. “You’re hurting her!”

“This is an abusive household. We have to hurt her before our parents do.”

Edit 01/30/07: I took out a word in my drabble. I'm not going to add another one. Just a note saying I did so.

I Want to Stop

All right, here goes. My proclaimation to the world:

I made it 22 days without SI'ing. That's a lot of days. I really wanted to make it a month, but that's okay. I'm not upset that I wasn't able to. I'll get there.

Slip ups are part of life. It just told me that I was not quite ready. If you'll recall, I had a pretty stressful day yesterday. My support system was flawed (nobody's fault, though) and my other coping mechansims weren't working.

BUT

I am very proud of the 22 days. Some of them were really easy. I didn't even think about SI. Some were really hard. Some days, all that kept me going was the thought of getting a one month free bracelet. Sometimes, it was just the knowledge that I had gotten through the urges before. Even yesterday, I held off until late in the evening. The stress of my mouth hurting, of only eating a taco yesterday, and pouring my little heart out proved to be a little more than I could handle. And I really did feel better afterwards.

So here's what: I am going to go at least 23 days next time. This time. Right now. Hopefully, I'll make it a month so I can get a "free" bracelet. (Free is the term used when people don't SI anymore, kind of like "clean" or "sober"). I will beat this, no matter how long it takes. After all, I can't imagine being 50 and still doing this, or 40, or even 30. (That seems so far away ...)

So, 23 days. That will be ... August 30. That's not so bad. I think I'm going to get one of those "Trying to Stop" bracelets. 'Cause I am trying. Trying my little heart out ...

She Says We Need to Sit Down and Talk

What I should have said: No, I don't think we do.

What I did say: Yep (and changed the subject.)

What could we possibly have to talk about? My parents? The fact that my arm is sore this morning? Or possibly the letter I wrote? My guess is the last one. But you know what? I want nothing more than to know at the end of the day that she's my friend and doesn't hate me.

When I moved up here, I had three or four major crushes that were all girls. (Or woman, I guess. I'd list there names, but some people might know who they are and hate me.)

Do I regret giving her the letter? Well ... I did wish I could take it back. I made myself sick with worry yesterday. That is not something I want to repeat anytime soon. She said I did good with the honesty. I shocked her, but she was flattered. She said I was beautiful and so important. And she doesn't hate me.

Everything will work out in the end. If it hasn't worked out, it's not the end.

01/30/07: This is another one I edited.

Love Letter

Well, I gave the letter to the person. She says she doesn't hate me ... I would if I was her. I do anyway. I want to cut so bad.


EDIT: And so I did. I figured that if I was going to do it, then I was going to make it count. Oh, boy, did I.

Not Another Story?

Well, it's a short one this time. I already finished.

Like a lot of my stories, it is inspired by a true story, which (if you've ever noticed) means I made the whole thing up.

It's about a girl (Cassandra) and a boy (Justin) who are friends. Justin admits to writing a love letter to a guy (though accidently, and quickly covers it up). So Cas thinks that he's gay. Which seems to explain a lot about her friend, except why he's sitting on her couch with her.


"Would that really be so bad?"

He holds her close, afraid she's going to leave. Instead, she kisses him. "I love you for who you are, not who you think you should be."


This story got quite the responce from my friend, who kept asking who the story was based on, and if I was questioning. It's based on a true story.

I'm not questioning anything; I already know.

And, for the record, this is not because of my friends. I've known for a long time now. Longer than I've known them, anyway.

01/30/07: This is a post I edited.

How Many Days?