Memoir

I've lost the habit of posting, of writting, of marking.
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I forget I even own a blog anymore.
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Okay, it's new... understandable.
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But, with my so-called memory I should probably keep records of my life, my thoughts, especially because they might slip away from me in a few weeks, months...
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My doctor said I might not even have the fucking thing, but the attack still messed up my brain pretty bad.
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It sucks not to remember. At the same time it's a blessing. The timing was, I must say, perfect u.u
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Not to remember details of it, of them, of everything. It helped.
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But still...
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I miss some of my memories. People come to me and say "hey, do you remember that time, when we were young and...". I don't remember anymore. And when I do, is like I'm having a memory of a movie with me in it. I remember the event, but I don't remember any feelings or thoughts or sensations. It's like I wasn't there. A stolen memory of someone just like me.
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It's weird. And quite annoying.
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Sometimes I wish I could take so much back. But, if I did, maybe I wouldn't be who I am today. No, I probably wouldn't. I like who I am now. I wish I could take it all back, but still have my current inner self.
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Impossible, though.
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It's okay, I've learned to live with it. I guess. It still hurt pretty bad from time to time. But I manage. I'm no beginner at pain related subjects. But, whatever.
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I'm used to talking to myself. I do that a lot. Okay, all the time. It's weird to put my thoughts into coherent sentences, or as coherent as they can be, at least u.u
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But it's nice, I guess. Maybe in a few months I'll read this and think to myself "crazy bitch, what da hell were you talking about". I certainly hope so.
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I should be studying right now. Yet, I'm not u.u Typical
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I really regreat my scars. I wish I hadn't done 'em. Not just for the obvious reasons, but because people stare, and ask, and wonder, and joke. I wish I could hide 'em, but I'm so used to it that I forget all about them, until someone starts pointing at it with huge eyes.
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But there's nothing I can do now.
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Sometimes I wonder what drove me there. But then I remember. I'm scared of it. I don't ever wanna go back to that place. Those 5/6 years really screwed me up, for good. I'm better now, most definetely, but I don't know what I would do if I had to return to that point. I can't take misery now that I've known happiness. Before, misery, despair, depression, it was all just part of my day, trivial even. Sometimes it was bad, others, really bad. But now I'm actually happy, and looking forward to having a life, and actually living.
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I can barely visit them without losing my mind. If I could, I'd never, ever, ever, come back. For anything at all. I'd just leave it all behind, gladly.
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But I can't, not yet, anyway. At least it's just a few days of darkness this time. Compared to 24/7 I'm in heaven.
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Well, now I'm just stretching too much. I've updated this thing, that's all I needed.
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I need to go to bed, I have a test tomorrow [that I will most certainly fail, tw u.u]
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Note to self: STUDY NEXT TIME YOU STUPID CUNT!
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Little harsh, maybe. But it might get me to do it ['might' being the word of the moment].
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Anyway. Okay, diary stuff. Nails, hair, art's history paper. no study. #tsktsk
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Done.