Please forgive me, I'm still in a whiny/venty mood.

I was supposed to get my ears pierced today. I had been looking forward to it all week. The urge to self-harm has been growing so much lately, and I thought this would be an excellent idea. There would be constant throbbing pain from the piercings, but it would be socially acceptable and pretty. It wouldn't be the same as having more awkward scars. And it would help me relax and distract me from everything. I would even keep taking my meds as part of this secret bargain with myself.

But when we got there, the woman who was supposed to pierce my ears wasn't there yet. Instead one of her coworkers was, and I was a bit startled at how insanely cute he was. It's been a long time since I was attracted to someone, since I felt any sense of "that" whatsoever. And then it just about killed me inside.

Because my mother was with me, because she had driven me there, because I don't drive. And she was going to pay for my piercings, because I don't have a job. And I don't drive or have a job right now because I'm mentally ill. And I take medications that make me fat and stupid because I'm mentally ill. So I was standing there fat and stupid and socially awkward with no job and no car, escorted by my mother. There was no way in hell that romance could be in my cards, and I hadn't realized that I even cared about that.

But it DIDN'T MATTER because soon, as soon as this lady showed up, I was going to be plunging myself into a sea of physical pain that would result in a distracting, masochistic HIGH and then everything would be PERFECTLY FINE.

Except the lady never showed up and I was told to come back Monday. And I hadn't smoked any cigarettes since Tuesday, and suddenly I felt like if I couldn't have a cigarette then I was going to break down crying. I had to argue with my mother to buy me cigarettes like the loser that I am, and just like an addict I made promises that I know I'm not going to keep because I can't. I swore I wouldn't blow through the pack, that I would smoke them slowly, but we both knew I have no self-control because I'm an ADDICT. She bought me the cigarettes anyway out of mercy, and I've already had five of them.

I felt guilty and feel guilty, for begging for cigarettes and for lying without wanting to lie. But that's what I do. Because I don't want to stress her out with my actual thoughts. I didn't want to tell her that I was so desperate to have holes punched through my ears today because it's better than cutting, and that when the lady didn't show up I just freaked out internally. I didn't want to have to explain that while it looks like a failure because I smoked again, it was actually a victory because I haven't touched the exacto knife hidden in my belongings.

AND I took my medication tonight. Now I just have to make it to Monday.