League Days: The Diary of Missy League

Welcome to my days! I hope you enjoy yourself, I know I don't! *dun-dun tss*
Haha, I'm so not funny. :|
Yeah, this is a diary. Don't know why you would care to read it, but then again why not?


43. June 21 -23, 2016 - Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday

Tuesday and Wednesday it was just school... Nothing really exciting goes on in school.

Maya is in my lunch hour tho, that is cool...


Thursday was strange... About a year after my uncle died and one of his friends, of a close age, died of cancer. His wake was today and... well... Why do they have to die so young?

I didn't go cause I didn't know him and that would have been strange, personally, but my parents went...

I don't deal with death well. I get depressed. Like, when my uncle died my body just started to shut down.

First, I started eating a lot. Like, I was ALWAYS hungry. I even drank a lot, but no matter how much I drank I never got drunk, which was just disappointing. One of the first times I'd wished I was skinnier... (Weird wish, right?)

Second, the color literally drained away from me. The days turned gray. But it wasn't just a snap of the fingers, it took me a good month or two to start to feel the change. And don't get me wrong, I wanted to change it, but I just lost the will to do anything other than sit there and breathe and think.

Third, I understood that my loss of willingness to do anything was due to the death of my uncle. Then my grandpa died and I just go angry.

Fourth, I tried to use that anger to get somewhere and threw myself into a deeper depression that I tried to drown out by forcing myself to work and work and work and work and work. Thank god for AP classes.

Fifth, was when my working strategy started to fail me, beacuse my mind wouldn't hold on to one thought at a time and I stopped smiling and laughing completely for months. I didn't want to celebrate any of the holidays and I became very, very hostile just to rile people up. Everyone was sad all the time and it bothered me. At the time, being yelled at by someone was better than watching them cry their hearts out. 

I hate watching people cry. It hurts me more than if they hit me.

Sixth is my sort of recovery phase where I just started to drown myself in reading and fell waaaay behind on things like homework to try and find myself. I drew a lot and wrote a lot. But most of those were waaay bad and just... bad. Hahaha. My AP Lang teacher would be do pleased with my rhetoric skills! XD XD

So yeah, that is kinda my staging with death.

I don't really cry about it.

I just get really, really sad and dull -- lackluster in the sense that I stopped being creative and thinking a lot to just zone out the world. I didn't sleep a lot, though, I just stared off into space, not really there during most of the day...


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