Why blisters are a good thing:

My birthday was today.

It.
Was.
Amazing.

We went to Starcastle, and I got tackled by a group of friends. That really is the best feeling. So we go in, get set up, and start shooting each other in lasertag.
The teams had uneven numbers, so this really awesome worker there joined my team. He was hilarious.
My team won, we got pizza, and go for another round. This time, it was against a bunch of little kids... and their really aggressive dads.

Yet we won again. Probably because of the awesome worker guy who joined our team again. "cuz we were cool people" AKA: teenagers who get way into playing lastertag against nine year olds.

I ended up getting some intense blisters.

After that, we all traveled back to my house, where we did cake and presents. (I got a lot of great things, but my friend Bambi made me a beautiful book with drawings of actors and youtubers I like. Also, she ordered me the Dan and Phil book! love that child. Also, a lot of people just gave me food. Like cookies and pancakes. They know me well.)

Then, my mum had apparently put together a 'quiz' about me, to see how well everyone knew me. Yet I didn't even know some of the answers. I didn't know I had a favorite car? But apparently I do. Oh well, people were laughing and couldn't take it seriously, so it went okay.

Then we all just went upstairs and sat around talking and having fun in general.

The party was supposed to end at six, but I called my dad on the phone (from three rooms away) to see if everyone could stay later, and they could.

Some people did go home, but the rest of us ended up downstairs playing 'Just Dance 2015'. It was hysterical, since only one of us actually know how to dance, and it's not me.

But now, it's just me and my friend Bambi, who's spending the night.

I actually had fun.

It's weird being older - I don't know if I like it. I don't understand how some people WANT to get older. Like maybe to leave a bad situation I can understand, I cant wait to leave my parents, but just to be older in general? Forget it.

At least I'm one year closer to being the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen.

No birthday drama, that'd be great thaaaaaaanks

So my 16th birthday is a week. I cant say I've been looking forward to it; I wont get my license for like four more months, because of the whole, "If you've had a seizure within the last six months, you're not allowed to drive" rule.

And of course, my mother is freaking out. I didn't really want a party, but since she didn't have a 'sweet sixteen,' she has to live vicariously through me.
SHE wanted to do something like rent out a ballroom and have a fancy party; I wanted to have everyone marathon all 8 Harry Potter movies.
Which she was against, to say the least.
We compromised on laser tag
It's going to be next Saturday, and the girl I've had a crush on for a year is going to be there. Needless to say, I'm excited.

The new medication has been helping some, I think. I don't feel BETTER per say, more like there's less bad days. I feel numb most of the time, but that's better than the heavy, dark feeling in my bones to go along with the numbness.

Things haven't all been good however. Today, I got an email from The Mountain, saying that the application is incomplete. They're giving me an extension, it's due by the 27th instead of the 20th. My mother, of course, forgot to inform me of said email until today.

She seems very reluctant about it.

It's just funny to me, considering The Mountain is sometimes all the keeps me going, knowing that I'm going to be there for five weeks instead of two, that I'll see old friends again, be myself, feel more at home than I do here all year.

~

A few minutes ago, she came home with four different kinds of acne treatment. I don't have BAD acne, just some spots. But I just have the skin for it, and I've come to accept that I'll probably have it for a while. But every few weeks she does this - comes home with some new treatment that does nothing but burn or make my face bright red. It bugs me that she cares for about my looks than I do - and my self-esteem is generally in the toilet. So I have troubled thoughts, and a self-esteem to match, but I still tale what peace I can make with myself.

Ah well.

In other news, we found out that my next-door neighbor, the chief of police, is now a convicted felon and is going to prison. Lovely.

Sixth time's the charm

I went back to the meds doctor and gotten a new prescription for Effexor.

this will be the sixth medication I've been on.
None so far have helped.

I just feel...very... stopped up.
Nothing much is getting through, all the emotional muck and slime is getting blocked somewhere, and even though I can't feel it now, I also can't feel anything good. And I know that it all has to come unstuck sometime.

I just feel uncomfortable, almost.
Since I've been off my meds, the depression has rallied full-force. It's like this dragging down feeling in my bones; almost warm, but barely enough to be noticeable. Just enough to make it so that it's so much easier just to curl up in a ball on the ground and not wake up.

I just... I hate it, so, so much.

But it's also a bit addictive. It's what I know, all I remember, so a part of me doesn't want to move.

Some days I think it's really a miracle that I haven't jumped off a bridge.