nastazja

8:41pm: i got 3 As in photography, art and the other one god only knows how. this past year ive fucked up majorly and was expecting straight Ds. i'm not even paticularly happy. just stunned

so now im going to fuck up for another year before uni
if that happens! im breaking every rule of girl-kind here but i dont want to leave my boyfriend. i want to marry him, have his baby and do something clerical and boring and use my money for E, not top-up fees

souzz and me always, its got to be forever

1:46pm: hahahaha LAST NIGHT haaaaaaaaaaaaaa

4:49pm: it's summer today we are having a barbeque and its so lovely! no meat though.

8:15pm: the feeling suicidle bit comes in twists and turns and the best thing for me to do is to curl up and pretend i am dead already and then i feel a bit better. a little bit less murky and then i can get up and do stuff and call somebody and talk to somebody. this is not what he says i should do, apparently i am to call immediatly but what would he know when i'm feeling like this it's the best i can do to differentiate between the sleeping pills to sleep and the sleeping pills to sleep a lot longer or forever and i can't count, can't pick up the phone, can't talk can barely gulp. and in case it sounds peaceful or dreamy or silly up and down i'll tell you no, it feels like a wall in front of me big black something and i am scared that i could count out the wrong number or feel extra evil on myself and gulp like i couldn't and not wake up.

i came out of it this morning so i ok, this spell will be better, it is lasting longer i am leveling myself out and hoping not for the psychosis diagnosis.

watch in a week when i am back to good and i predict this black won't happen again for a good three weeks. and once upon a time this was permanent and i am better, almost well.

7:26pm: i'm not interested in dysthmia, which is silly, because it is in my iterests list. its not an INTEREST. this is my crazy diary, and it is silly, and this is why i never write in it. i have another crazy diary, and this lives under my bed, and i write with a green pen, but mostly the crazy is just in my head.

my shoots lately have been outdoors, god, they love sticking me outdoors and my tits freeze up and its fucking freezing. CLAPHAM COMMON ON A SUNDAY MORNING IN FEB! i guess its march and itll be warmer soon and india and stuff. im gonna finish with the shoots when im twenty two and i'll never let my picture be taken again and im going to marry d'souza and we'll go and live in india and he can draw me looking skinny and gorgeous but no more fucking photots. i cant even say i love it really: its these bitches and these so called friends and these drugs that i shouldnt take because they fuck with my medication and what the hell, i need the money.

i'll be done with the a-level soon and done with the dysthmia. it is supposedly supposed to 'wear off' after 2 years, and ive had it something more like 4. i am scared because i have read what he doesnt say proper and its a deeper level of psychosis, i'm a proper nutcase. god, this is my fucking crazy diary.

let's be positive: i love my boyfriend, i love my friends,i love my family, i love the money,i love the parties.

i want these celine shoes and alicja is going to take me to get them and im going to drag rosie too and our baby is having a baby and it's dinner now, i must dash. xxx

1:21pm: it's times like this i feel like clawing at myself, except i am not one of those pathetics creatures who cuts themselves. i have no patience with that shit. i try not to dwell. i hardly ever write it down, at least not on here.

my shrink told me to keep a diary and so i did for a while. it is an A4 recycled paperchase spiralbound and i know everything about it, except what's inside. i hate re-reading my entries. if i have felt suicidle and written in it, not that i want to slit my throat but WHY and when i re-read it i hate myself. how could i be so selfish?

but it is a chemical imbalance. dysthmia is supposed to last for two or three years, maybe four years maximum. DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS TO HEAR THAT FROM A DOCTOR. that i'll feel this way for at least the amount of time i have already? and also, i think i lied a little bit. but i forget. another side effect is, I FORGET. i forget everything. i hate this. i hate being a crazy person. i hate wanting to die, and not having any reason to. if my dad had raped me, or my boyfriend had killed himself, or i lived in iraq, then. but. i have no reason.

i think i lie to my shrink. i think i lie to my doctor. i tell them i am fine, which is a lie, but also i lie about how long i have felt this way. i can't even remember how long, so i make up an amount of time. um, i don't know, a while. you know. but no, i have felt this way since... forever. i was a happy child. but then the big black swamp came and i can't get out of bed, can't brush my teeth, can't make the effort to kiss my boyfriend.

when i was with d'souzza i once did the most horrible thing. when he was fucking me i just stopped, lay there and couldn't move. i know this is the chemicals. but i don't think he understood. FUCK HOW COULD HE? WHO FUCKING DOES? i don't.

this didn't even help. see, this isn't angry, this is me. this is level, monotone nastazja. i don't get angry. my pill stop that. i feel selfless, open, empty. i still feel sad. all the time. i go to shoots and they tell me i'm the most gorgeous thing, and i know i am, but i don't care. i just can't care. if i came off the pills, i could care. but i could also slit my wrists. so i can't do it.

1:58pm: yeso, i love you so much
i wish i had a boyfriend who would do anything for me because hes so b-e-s-o-t-t-e-d (but i dont realise). the last time we went out i watched you two dance and watched him not take his hands off you for 1 second and the way he closed his eyes and smiled like he was the luckiest thing and the luckiest man and he looked like the happiest person in that whole place. you dont see how he looks at you when you have your back to him or when you are at the bar or in the kitchen. you dont see how his eyes are just swirling with feelings and he sees me looking and grins (his teeth are so so white so perfect) and he looks away and he smiles at at his hands, or the table. he does that a lot he smiles at inanimate things. he gets embarrassed. you cant see him blush (much) but it is so pretty and you never see! i want to film him so you can see. i want to film you two. you make me so happy and so jealous and so sad because why dont i get somebody like D? why am i stuck with the Souzzas who use use use? why do you always get taken care of? you know i need it more than you do! you arent ill! what do you get so right every time?
i love you.

11:32am: i have nothing to say anymore. i hate these pills. i am a mannequin, i cant talk, i hardly think. a zombie. i forget dates and times so easily. i work for college and it goes in somewhere but then it wont come out. i want to come off, but if i come off ill want to die again. this is not a teenage angst post. this is LOOK WHAT DYSTHYMIA DOES TO YOU POST. fucking DYSTHYMIADYSTHYMIADYSTHYMIA. OH i LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUUUUU. im not sad, pills dont let you get sad, or even wishful. all my wishes are up in the sky somewhere and i can't see them for the clouds and so i dont wish anymore, i just carry on and on and on and on. and then ill remember, but then the next pill chalks over it. i dont want to kill myself.
i cant hate that little jar. that little jar doesnt let me hate. only DISLIKE.

10:14am: so apparently susan and karl get a divorce, karl gets with izzy and lou kisses susan.
people! get a new street! its incestuous!

7:10pm: score at finding £50 in the pocket of the summer jacket i havent worn since september!

8:48pm: if he hurts me once more i will break in half.he could make me all better. but does he really want a girlfriend with dysthymia disorder? souzz, i cant cope. i want to stay in bed and not wake up more often than not. im not a bitch because i want to be. and i am sick of taking pills pills and pills to blank me out.

7:24pm: crazy, crazy week innit?

i am not at all happy right now i guess i
guess

2:04pm: the big LJ panic is now over i worked it out!

college is WORK. blatantly i chose the wrong A's to take. photography is a nicety tho, today i went up to hyde park with d'souzza for his project
and i wanted to hold his hand all day long.
what is it with him and his camera? he looks so pretty when he takes his pictures. but like he'd ever focus on me like that whatever!
i think he is v much a major crush.
nas d'souzza. now that would sound good. (his real name is anthony. we dont call him anthony, just souzz)

oh and we went for coffee at costa in blackheath. they know me in there mostly because last time we was up there we were talkin about festivals, hippie boys,tents & emergency contraception (work it out)
i should have been in media
hahaha! no i had better things to do with my time.
like want to lick souzz's hands.

7:56pm: i got the job i got the job i got the job i got. be sure to look out for me in "B" in a couple of months!

last night im ashamed to say i kissed nathan nacombe! nathan nacombe with cain rows (how is that spelled) like what the shit and the d&g obsession.
nas and nathan nacombe and their three kids: nate, natalie and nancy.

why does it say 0 kisses? i don't get it help.

8:39pm: well then. today i
+ bought pink chanel blazer (fuck me)
+ went to casting in bond st. wont get, lady was a cunt. thinks shes next big thing cos shes got a saab and specially engraved business cards next to her paycheck.
+ went to photography at college. dark room fun with d'souzza to 'mambo italiano'
+ covent garden for lunch with ro-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-i-e
+ came home v drunk on pink lady
+ neighbours
+ now

and why? well no code required.
nas, i say, will now go to new cross to find boys with hoodies and credit cards + drink drink drink with sexy people like rose, d'souzza and siu-yan.

!