Virtual Gypsyz

April 28, 1996
I’m having anxiety disorders, schizophrenic symptoms, compulsions, obsessions, personality flaws, etc, etc. I have no concept of myself anymore. I have no self-esteem. It seems that I’m having a pathetic, self-absorbed trauma, but I’m not supposed to ignore it or feel guilty about it because then I can’t cure it. I don’t know if any of these feelings have anything to do with what I am studying in psychology - if so, I’m a hypochondriac (my back also hurts, my heart should give out soon and my ass keeps getting bigger).

I’m tired of suddenly not being able to communicate. I feel weird in all social situations. Does it have something to do with spending all my time with one boy? I sleep with him, eat with him, study with him, go out with him, etc. But I try to hang out with other people like M, W, J, J, Becky. I feel so utterly lonely. I don’t even miss anyone. I wouldn’t really care to see my best friend from high school or any other friends from home. Actually, I’d like to see Phil. Phil and I always had fun. I wish he was here. I should call him sometime before I go to Washington, D.C.

I’m sad.

I have this lingering depression underlying my every mood and I’m depressed that I can’t express that poetically.

I have no drive to do well on my finals. I feel that all I have to do is get by. I want to cry about it so that I can start everything again with fresh eyes, but that hasn’t worked already three times.

Today was a beautiful spring/summer day. Girls were laying out in their bikinis, the heat brought lots out to study on the balconies, including myself. I felt content by myself, but as soon as I get around people other than the boy, I become a turtle. I don’t know what to say, and anything I say, I feel like everyone is looking at me as if I am stupid. M and J hate me because I said something bad about J. I’m not stupid. I can read vibes. J thinks I’m stupid. I even have this retrospective feeling that everyone I’ve ever known thinks I’m completely ridiculous. I don’t know why anyone wants to talk to me.

My whole life is contained within a blue loose-leaf notebook. The only people/thing I’ve ever touched is that notebook. Yes, I know that’s a lie, but I wonder about those people’s mentality when they’ve given me the time of day. All I’ve been is a facade. That’s all. No one knows who I am. Not the boy, not my parents, not my best friend from high school, not Phil. They’ve only gotten pieces of a girl who can play the “cool” role.

I’m as stupid right now as I am when I’m stoned. My head is starting to hurt. I want to die. No, I really don’t, but I don’t know what to do?——->>>>>>