I was planning on not giving a shit about how I looked today and just heading out looking like I just happened to run into my bathroom and closet before stumbling into class, and I was successful for the first half of my morning. Then I realized that I I felt way too shitty to not compensate visually.
So I curled my hair, played with some new color palettes of eyeshadow, lined my upper lash line with liquid liner and lined my lower lash line with silver pencil. But because I felt bad for having three tubes of different types of mascara in my makeup bag, I decided to use the oldest tube I had in there. Big mistake. It was the older formula of Maybelline’s XXL mascara when the tube was still just black and white. I never realized how much I despised this mascara until I started using other ones. Maybelline never really worked well with my eyes.
So now I have this Clockwork Orange shit going on and I have to tone it down with my glasses, which is working out pretty well so far, but I’m not counting on it to pull through when my eyes start to hurt like fuck from wearing them for too long.
I woke up feeling empty. Unimportant. Forgotten.
I’ve been sitting aimlessly in my room for the past five hours. My brother called during my compensation bit to tell me about how a picture I was tagged in on Facebook almost brought him to tears because of how little I was. He noticed that he was on speakerphone and asked what I was doing, my response being that I was compensating for how shitty I felt. I told him about my predicament, to which he replied: “Fuck it, dude. Make new friends. You take things too out of proportion sometimes.”
… Which is exactly why I didn’t want to tell him in the first place. I love my brother. No doubt about that. But he doesn’t understand what goes on in my head. I’m taking Zoloft to help alleviate my anxiety for god’s sake. I’m not as mentally stable as he thinks I am.
I’ve hit a wall. I am depressed, and I have given up up myself.
Fuck.
