Today was graduation.

I didn't graduate.

I woke up sore from yesterday's 'exertions' with Tanatswa. We cleaned out her garage. The best part-besides seeing my best friend for the first time in well, months-was destroying a wooden desk with a shovel. We yelled out names of the people and things that had caused us so much despair, anxiety and rage over the last few years-"Nathan!", "Abbey!", "Josiah!", "Scott!", "Chris Flynn", "High School". It was very therapeutic. To top it off, Tanatswa ended it with "And to all the mother fathers who thought they could screw with us." before slamming the shovel into three inches of wood. I think that my dramatic side is rubbing off on her.

It was an almost ritualistic process of destroying that desk. I felt at peace afterwards. It's strange how physical exertion can solve your problems. When I walk, I talk about the things that bother me and I feel better afterwards. I suppose there's probably some science to that and, if I truly tried, I could go into it but I'm not in the mood. But I've always loved the way that going on a walk or running or destroying a desk can make you feel so damn good.

After cleaning the garage, we headed over to Allea's graduation party. We were nervous. This was a party that would be filled with dregs. And we, apparently, don't like dregs. I find them annoying. They're boring to me. I don't really have a problem with the drinking and the drugs as much as Tanatswa does. I just find them to be predictable and uninteresting. There's nothing about the dregs that make me go, "You know, some of you could make really good friends.". Tanatswa feels that they are all on the wrong side of the tracks and thus will peer pressure her into doing weed, which will then push her to doing 'crack cocaine' because it's a 'gateway drug'.

Anyway, Allea was very nice. We played an intense game of Miss Mary Mack and I got down on one knee to give her her gift (after which, she couldn't remember my name, haha). The food was quite good-potato salad, chips and cake. We left after fifteen minutes. I felt like Allea was glad to have some normal people at her party. Only about ten of the dregs were there, plus her family. It was a very mournful atmosphere. I started to pity her because all her friends are assholes. Next was Kristen's party. This was Kristen C., whom I ate lunch with freshman year. Alex, Ashley and their mom were there. We at cookies and chatted with them before loading our bags with the free candy from the candy bar and getting the hell out as fast as possible.

And finally, the party that we were waiting for: the Foreign Exchange Student Farewell Party. This party was at Chase Sullivan's pool house. Really. In the middle of Iowa and we go to someone's pool house for a party. His pool house was bigger than Tanatswa's actual house. His actual house? Well, color me shocked that we have such mansions in little ole Iowa. The party was really an excuse for all the popular kids to get wasted. We took pictures, hung out by the fire and pretty much just chilled. I didn't say much because I was completely out of it from not taking my pills. Got home, mom asked me if I smoke any weed because I was so dead (I'm pretty sure she was convinced I was drunk) and then fell asleep to A Very Long Engagement.

Today: woke up at about elevenish. Checked facebook to see when and where the graduation parties of the day (Abbey's and Tia's) were. Same time, different parks. Headed over to Noleridge to meet Tia. Had to listen to Quinn tell me that I had no pride for going to see my friends at their grad parties when I wasn't graduating. I get there and no one is there. No one. There's another grad party and guess who's there? Chase Sullivan. I looked completely hungover too. That's what a day of heavy lifting plus not taking your depression/anxiety pills does to you. So, I wandered around the park like an idiot, trying not to cry because my head was so fucked up because I hadn't taken my pills. I walked home, getting lost on the way and, by chance, meeting Coral who dropped me off. She told me that she was there for me, to remember that I had friends. It was very nice.

It's very troublesome thinking that you're worthless. I get up each morning and I think "What for? What's going to change today?". I'm too fucked up to do school and I'm too teenagery and unskilled to get a job. I'm just hoping for Americorps. It's what I really want to do. And I don't know if I'll get it. I keep having to remind myself that I am, in fact, pretty, skilled, talented. I'm a fucking writer. I have forty pages done that I've written in the last two weeks. I am not worthless.

And yet, when I have to hear people tell me that I'm making dumb decisions, act like I haven't truly thought things out, as if I'm not intelligent enough to make my own choices and tell me that I'm ruining my life, it gets to me. It really does. I hate this high and mighty thing everyone around me is doing. They all have opinions on what I should be doing and yet no one asks me for mine. It's "do this", "do that". And I can't do that right now. I know what I'm capable of right now. My head is too fucked for me to do anything besides what I've been trying to do. And my pills just aren't working. I want to try without the pills, just to see if I work better that way. I want my head clear. I just don't know how to do it.