Car Crashes and Back-Stabbers

I've been super busy lately, and I'm about to say why. Some serious crap has been happening that's literally been throwing me off track.
Yesterday, I went to visit my Grandma. She'd just bought some trees and other plants from my Aunt's tree farm, but she was too weak to plant them all. She also wanted to bring some back. My dad did this - it took most of the day, until dark. I was expecting a long, cold, and rainy drive home. That's what happened, most of the ride. Me teasing Haley. My dad and I laughing. Haley whining. Then, in a single instant, the car lost control and we spun off the road. I was told that is was because of a hydroplane. We made a full circle and a half.
What scares me is that I wasn't afraid. Not of getting hurt. Most certainly not of dying. I told my dad this as he got back into the car after checking our tires. He'd said not to think about it, or I'll scare myself. But I've tried to. It was explained to me, over and over, if we had moved further, just an inch, we'd be at risk of a head-on in on coming traffic. Still. It never phased me. It still doesn't.
I was lucky, and that's for sure. But what I do know is that when I was in that car, and my dad was screaming at me to hold on... Just for those fifteen seconds... a primitive instinct kicked in. I remember whipping my head around to stare behind me, thoughts racing through my head. Is Haley strapped in? Yes, I'd assumed. This process took only three seconds, right when we first hit the hydroplane. With the rest of the time, I stared out the window. The strangest thing had been what bothered me the most. I was thinking: Daddy, look... You got a whole bunch of mud on your Chevy. Then, as we were finally making the last half circle, my mind switched off and I entered a Deja Vu state. I could remember only a single time, when my dad had said, 'If you were in the car, you would've died.' Then we stopped spinning, which was when I saw that we were on the edge of on coming traffic.
Someone was looking out for us, then. I'd be the first to deny it, but in this case... I cried myself to sleep last night. It must have finally gotten into my head that last night could have been the last day of my life. But it wasn't. So why am I still here?
The spin out induced some really odd, impulsive dreams. I dreamt first about a boy at my school. I think his name was Josh. He was tall, and thin, and he had these big eyes... blue, I think. He also had bleach blonde hair. Well, I dreamed that we - the entire student board - were being chased by teachers. I'm thinking it was over a prank, because I had the feeling that I'd done something bad. There was a lot of guilt. I was at the doorway of Mr. Holub's classroom - my 9th period science teacher - when the dream really started. I was running, with a smile on my face, being trampled by crowds of other kids.
Then, Josh grabbed my hand. He yelled at me, trying to talk over the loud crowds of people.
"You need to run faster!" He shouted.
I felt inferior, so I just smiled. That was when he yanked me, and I fell onto the ground. To my surprise, he dragged me. My heels were scrapping the ground, and at times, since we were moving so quickly, they'd come off of it. I screamed to Josh.
"Hey," I started. "You're my new favori-"
I was interrupted because he lost control of his own legs for a moment. It resulted in me face-slamming a locker.
Defeated, I tried to rebound. All I did was mumble. "You're my new favorite person."
After this, we reached the art rooms. They were at an intersection of staircases and hallways. I was being stared at by everyone. Josh and I led the crowd, and it felt fulfilling and amazing. The people directly behind us were actually people I'd once knew. Alison Brackett. Jessica Virzi. Rachael Renner. Jamie Renner. And Shelbey Cecille. Again, Shelbey was here, in my dreams.
Josh had pulled me behind him all the way up to these large stairs that I could swear never actually existed. There was a maze of them, and to get from case to case, and reach the ground, you had to jump from the highest one and attempt to land on it. This was when I saw Brandi Brewer, Megan Grove, and Miranda Marshall-Faulkner. They had all already been on the third staircase. There was maybe four in total.
I tried to jump, and with luck, I reached the first staircase. Then the second. A balcony above the third. The actual third. Then, I skipped over the last staircase and fell. Fell all the way to the ground, mangling my body. But it was slow too, like someone was freezing time, just when my luck had run out. After smashing into the ground, I could hear laughter. It echoed, all around me. Everyone in the entire school was laughing at me.
The dream skipped over at this point, and I was in a very high tech bar. There were barstools with ribbed backs on them, and blue flashing lights everywhere. A blonde girl who I'd recognized as a sixth grader was drinking a pink fluid out of a martini glass. There was a heavy base from somewhere in the room. I glanced over the bar to see if I could find anyone I knew. All I could find was Shelbey, so I talked to her.
The dream skipped again, and I was already talking to her. I was nervous. My knees were buckled. The last thing I wanted was for her to shoot me down.
"You changed a lot," She said. I nodded.
The time lapsed yet again. We entered my house, late at night. We went through the front door in the kitchen. It was really dark, but my mom was still awake. She glanced at me through the laundry room from her room. Her face was lit by a laptop's glow. Shelbey looked over at me.
"I'm gonna take my shoes off." I pointed her towards the living room. This registered, and she carried her shoes over. (Another strange thing about this dream... Everyone was wearing techno/rave clothes, and platform boots except for me. I was wearing all black and converses.) My mom then began to glare.
"Why'd you bring that pot head in my house?" I shrugged this off, and the dream ended.

Wasting Virtual Lives

I'm feeling really strange today. Guilty, even. And it's over something as stupid as the Sims. 3.
I've been downloading a lot of custom content for the game, which I'm getting at the end of this month. Daily, I usually get through 5 or so websites on my huge list of them, but today, I haven't really done any. And it bothers me, because really, it's such a stupid thing to care this much about. I just want that game so badly, and it has to be perfect...
Yes, it has to be perfect. That's the little disorder living in the back of my head, called OCD. This game, bless it, will finally let me live the life that I'd wanted. I don't believe that's what it was made for. But that's the purpose it's going to serve. I'll finally be able to escape from reality, just for a little while. I won't have to hate myself. I won't have to be sad. I won't have to feel ugly.


I've been listening to 'Hirari, Hirari' all day. Mostly because I usually listen to one new song everyday, but I really like this one. It's so pretty, and Miku Hatsune sounds real in it. It's odd; I can usually pick out all the techy screw-ups in vocaloid songs, but not this one. 


Well, I'd better get back to downloading custom content. I've got a HUGE list of sites that I need to go through, and I can't miss one. (OCD??) Later, loves.

Frenemies

Let me start off saying that I know I haven't written in a while, and I'm sorry. Well, it's not like anyone actually reads this anyway, so I guess I'm not apologizing to anyone in particular. Before I forget, I'd like to kick this entry off with a strange dream I'd had last night.
Last night, I was too afraid to sleep in my own room. I'd been paranoid that Slenderman was watching me (ha ha). I decided to sleep on the couch, and before long, I was out. That was when this weird, alternate reality happened. I can only remember bits and pieces, but it started with me at my house. It was cloudy and cold which matched the tense atmosphere and emptiness in the streets. I had a large comforter of a beige shade around my shoulders, adorned with maroon flowers. Even then, I could feel eyes staring into my back along with a cold breeze whipping against my cheeks. I was sitting on my dad's metal black box in the trunk of his pick-up truck. That's when it got even stranger.
Shelbey was there. Shelbey was an old friend of mine; we got into an argument and ended up splitting. She used to be my closest friend, and I told her absolutely everything. She was sitting over to my left, looking pretty despite the dreary weather. The dream skips at this point, and I begin to speak.
I smiled genuinely. "Hey, hell with this."
She looked at me in shock, like I'd done something horrible. Yet only her head turned to face me as she hunched over.
"Can't we just be friends; Forget about that old crap?"
She was still confused. "...just... forget?"
"Yeah," I grinned.
The dream then skipped again, though I feel as if we went inside my kitchen for a short period of time. We were back outside. This time, Shelbey was on the opposite side of the truck bed, sitting on the edge of about where the handle would be to release the drop door. I started to talk again.
"Shelbey... There's some weird things... about me." She waited. I continued. The air felt tight. "I went through a lot of... er..."
"You lost weight,"
"A lot of it." I glanced to my feet. "That's what anorexia does,"
There was an extended period of silence. Then I tried to get to another subject.
"Shelbey, someone's watching me. It's serious - Slenderman."
She laughed at me, but in the dream, I felt clenching terror. It was ripping at my stomach. I looked over my shoulder in fear, and that's when it ended.

Psychotic Anomaly

So my day today... it was just awful. So, unbearably terrible that every moment it comes to mind me stomach clenches tightly and I get nauseous.
I believe I already explained my mother and I and our relationship, but this afternoon it was taken to a new level as I prepared my lunch. Because of how I was measuring everything, I got a lot of nasty comments from her. When I finished boiling the noodles, I found that there was at least twice as much as I wanted for my soup. I saved the other half, which made my mom's head explode. She kept yelling at me, things like 'one more ounce of fucking noodles won't kill you,' and 'oh my god, just put them in.' Now I know that I overreact at the way I count every last calorie, but her - she threatened to send me to a psychologist over about two ounces of noodles.
And shortly after the whole scene, she did. I have an appointment at 10:30A.M. on Thursday. Isn't it obvious enough that I'm horribly depressed? She thinks that someone like that can help me - what she doesn't know is that they can only hurt me. The idea of being thought of as crazy destroys me from the inside out. I hate being treated like some kind of psychotic anomaly. I can feel my eyes tearing up every second I think about sitting in that sterile, confined office with a person coaxing me into being normal.