Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know

I love that song. I don’t particularly enjoy the video…Britney is the idol of people who are so young…she doesn’t need to be parading around in her underwear. She shouldn’t be using sex appeal to exhibit her talent.

Anyways…I asked my former guidance counselor to come and visit my Open Diary. I hope she doesn’t get “icked out” by some of my entries. I mean, afterall, I never told her about cutting myself. I didn’t tell any of my teachers. Of course, there was that one person who was in a class with me that took a letter I wrote to her to her guidance counselor, so I’m sure word got around the school. HHS isn’t all that big of a school.

I miss my friends so much, but you would never catch me down in Destin with them. I am not in shape and I would look so disgusting in a swimsuit. I hate it. I hate the way I look. I always feel like I’m being judged based on my looks and not by who I am.

So, I’ve been doing research for Secret Sins. I hope that I can write this book without going crazy. I want to be able to get the truth out their about self-mutilation. People seem to judge cutters based on their cuts and not on what’s going on in their heads. They think cutters are some kind of sickos. Well, they aren’t. They’re just like everyone else. They just cope differently.

UGH. I depend on what other people think way too much. I should be ashamed of myself. I tell everyone else not to pay attention to what other people think and then I end up not taking my own advice. This can’t be good for my self-esteem.

I’m so worried about my poetry book because some of the poems are a little personal and I don’t know if I’m ready to share them. I guess I need to anyway.

Well, I gotta go for now.

Published by

Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.