3/19/24

I wish I had gone to the high school's SpongeBob musical.

My local high school, the school I was supposed to attend, put on a performance of the SpongeBob Musical. When I first heard, I thought it was cool. I really would have loved to see it. But there was a problem.

Not only would I be in an environment where I felt unsafe, but I would be near a few students who only contributed to that unsafe feeling I mentioned.

Even so, I wish I had left my home and stepped into the school I feared so greatly.

I wish I had walked into the auditorium, giving a subtle "fuck you" to those who hated me by not even looking in their direction. But most of all, I wish I was there to support one of my best friends ever. I believe this musical was very important to him, and I worry I let him down.

I wish I wasn't such a coward. I wanted to be there, to enjoy the show and support my best friend. But I let my fear of getting recognized by other students swallow me. I made my decision. I stayed home.

And even though that was so long ago, I still regret it.

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3/14/24

Why is it that when someone does something totally harmless but different or unique, they're criticized? I never really understood that. Maybe it's because I am considered 'out of the ordinary'. Seems like the conventionally attractive people don't like my hair color or weight or the way I dress. I will never appeal to them.

And that's okay. It gets tiring trying to be what everyone else wants you to be. I have been as perfect as I can be for my parents until I started to crack. I was 10 years old and cutting myself in the bathroom of my elementary school. No child should go through that. I don't blame my parents for my childhood being taken from me. I blame other factors.

Sometimes it feels like everything that happened was my fault. I hate remembering what happened. I hate thinking I could have prevented it one way or another.

Maybe God was punishing me.

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3/10/24

 I wish I had more opportunities to write or speak about one of my favorite films of all time. The Virgin Suicides. It was a visually beautiful movie and I remember rewatching it multiple times.

It's about these five sisters who are admired by neighborhood boys. These sisters, the Lisbon sisters, are described as beautiful by many. They all die at the end, of course. Well, the youngest Lisbon, Cecilia, dies at the beginning. She was the first to die. The other Lisbon's later commit suicide. The neighborhood boys really did not understand the girls, but still loved them.

It's a very bitter ending and story, but something about the imagery is beautiful to me. The whole film felt like a dream. I feel it gives a different view on how life is as a girl. I don't know.

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3/7/24

It's been ages since an actual entry. I really did not stick to writing here. I guess I kind of forgot and left this page alone for.. a year. It wasn't my intention to leave for so long. Even if no one reads this, it might be beneficial for my mental health to have a blog. A place where I can let loose and write whatever's on my mind. Maybe I could eventually show this to my future therapist. We'll see.

The last time I wrote in a digital diary was a few months ago. I reread my entry and it was about unrequited love. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.

Love is really confusing. I have had so much trouble understanding my own feelings lately. I want to distance myself from others to avoid causing issues but at the same time, I love them. At least I think I do. I don't know. I've spent so long trying to figure it out but nothing makes sense. 

I have been missing my ex. Not in a romantic sense. I think I just miss the good times in our relationship. He ended things with me because he 'thought I didn't love him anymore' or something. I'm sure that was just a lie. I think he was the one who fell out of love with me. I would also like to add that when he broke up with me, I was suffering from severe depression and was less affectionate than I used to be. Maybe he was tired of dealing with me. It's alright though. I let go of the romantic feelings I had for him. I miss being his friend. 

Romance is just scary at this point. I'm afraid of letting people down. There's this one person and I'm pretty sure I love them but I'm scared of talking about it. I get butterflies when I think about things like kissing them or being around them and I miss them a lot. But at the same time, I can't end things the way I did last time. I can't hurt them like that again. Maybe I need to let go. I'm sorry, my dear. I just can't do that to you.

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About Me (and the blog)

 For privacy (and comfort) reasons, my name is Feferi. I am a teenager who loves crafts, music and writing. I use they/them pronouns and have a small variety of things I identify with...

I am non-binary, as well as lesbian and quite possibly some form of genderfluid. 

This blog was created in 2022 to be used as a diary and I abandoned it until now.

I'm not sure what else to say here. I will update if needed.

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