I came out of my counseling appointment today, and school was out because of early release, and it was warm, and somehow I decided I am not a bad person, no matter how many times I binge and purge, no matter how many drugs I take or how many times I discard my standards to take a sip of wine. All of that is absorbed inside of me, and the result is a spring day like this one, a whole day of nothing, just warm air and frantic practicing for district music festival.

I love playing the piano with the lid up. I can somehow abandon myself to it. All of anger can go into the song I am learning, Rachmaninoff (sp?) C sharp minor prelude. Wonderful song. And I love my violin song too, the Rumanian dances by Bartok. Cello cool as well... some French guy, allegro apassionado.

I felt panicked and skittery today at the happiness. I don't think my life is getting better. I just think my attitude is. So I am afraid it is fleeting, but I know I can fight for it. I know that I can choose to be happy.

It still scares me. With every happy thought I want to run. Is it better to have an unreliable warmth or a consistant, aching cold?

Ah, whatever. I hate the cold.

It's spring, spring, spring. Nothing matters.

I am taking Spanish three by correspondance and I took Spanish 2 my freshman year. AAAHHH!! I've been trying to go over direct and indirect object pronouns today. It's returning haltingly to my mind.

I feel like something should be wrong, but nothing is. Spring break is coming.

I think that I love myself. Even if I don't like myself most of the time, I do love myself. Love isn't affected by horror at the things I am capable of doing.