Out the Window

So... Nick has work until 3 in the morning. So much for sleeping! haha, not that I mean that in a bad way. I just know I'm not going to be able to sleep without him.

Jordan told me to pick up cat food on my way home from work. But I don't like going to the store alone. Or anywhere alone for that matter. I asked her to come with me, she wouldn't. She never does. So I offered buying her dinner. Brandon was in the room when I mentioned this, and of course he wanted some food too. I told him I'd pay for them both as long as they both went with me. Jordan of course had to ask where dinner was being bought and both her and Brandon wanted Chipotle. So then Jarrod comes in and..... long story short, I was taking them all out to Chipotle just because I didn't want to go to the grocery store alone. Pathetic? I think so. I seem to be getting more pathetic each day.

I was in a great mood. Up until Jordan was bitching about her sunglasses that were in my car. I guess I could have just asked her to let me keep them in the car, but I argued with her instead. So that put me in a bad mood, and I started putting depressing songs on my ipod. I just didn't want to do anything anymore.

I was in such a bad mood that when we got to the grocery store, I told them to just sit in the car. I expected they would, but they all surprised me and came in.

I still wasn't in a good mood by the time we left. More depressing songs. So I drove home. They all got out and I drove around to smoke. Since I couldn't while Jarrod was in the car. Not that I really give a shit if Jarrod knows. I really don't care who knows. It's just the matter of never hearing the end of it. That's the part that stops me from being out in the open about it.

So now I'm home. Semi-talking to Whitney on FB. I'm just torturing myself. I know what thoughts go into my head, and they don't leave. This stuff will always be there. I can't stand it. They make me feel like I'm having a panic attack. It hurts. It all hurts.

I hate thinking. I could type all the thoughts that go into my head and I could keep typing forever.
More pathetic-ness: I can't even cry. I get so upset that I can't even cry. Or maybe I'm not upset at all. It all fucks with my head.

I just can't stand it anymore. I want to stop thinking for a little while. Just stop breathing for a little while. Inhale for a little while. Scream for a little while. Everything for a little while.

I wish the thoughts would go away like the smoke from my cigarette. Out the window. But the smoke doesn't  go away. These thoughts are in my head, in my clothes, in my hair, in my mouth, they don't go away.