Journal Entries 3 and 4

July 22, 2022 ive been chasing the sun because no one told me i could follow my heart so im trying to catch the shiniest thing for you in the hopes that you wont fall apart if the sun doesnt suit your fancy maybe i should grab the moon too its not what you wanted but maybe second place will do i could pluck each star out of the sky but it would never be adequate because each one i grab there's a brighter one right next to it i could try to rope the gas giant Jupiter but the rope would fall right through you'd be disappointed but its the best that i could do i've tried to grab the galaxy i've tried to snare the stars i've tried to mooch the moon and never reached very far. im tired of chasing the sun so i think i'll rest a while. im tired of chasing the sun in hopes it'll make you smile. July 23, 2022 i've always been chasing the sun. which is basically a big metaphor for trying to constantly stay happy. i wrote a poem called chasing the sun, and in it, i described how i tried to give the galaxy to someone because maybe it could make them happy. but i looked back at the poem and realized i was wrong: that's not the only reason. i'm chasing the sun because i'm afraid. i'm afraid of what will happen to me because when you run for so long, walking feels weird. i cover myself up with awards and accolades so that no one notices that i'm there (or at least half there). im a foreigner with emotions. the way that i thought people operated is different than what i expected. the way i thought i could allow myself to operate is different. the way i treat myself is different. and when youre so different, you don't know how to function in society; with society. in elementary school, on someone's birthday, people brought in cookies and cupcakes. everyone would have one but me. i really wanted it, but i always said "no thank you" because i thought it would make me seem self-controlled. but inside i wanted those cookies in cupcakes. and that attitude stayed with me, my entire life. when quarantine struck, i fell into a deep depression. and i don't just mean, "Ugh, life sucks, I can't go to the movies anymore." I was seriously depressed. I was a freshman in a new high school with no friends, a bunch of high-level classes, and a whole bunch of not-so-great thoughts. I wanted someone to talk to, but I didn't know how to ask for what I wanted. So I stayed silent. What was supposed to be a two week break turned into a two year punishment, and I was left to fight my thoughts alone. I thought I could cover them up with fancy jewelry and dolly them up in pretty clothes, but they remained still. I tried to ignore them, rationalize them, hide them-- but I was still suicidal. It didn't matter how I dressed it up. I wanted help. I needed help. But I couldn't ask. I couldn't ask because I was afraid of looking weak (which I was). Weak thoughts turned into dangerous actions, and I was in a bathtub. My brother knocked on the locked bathroom door, and I didn't go through with it. I didn't want him to see me like this, and I didn't want him to lose me like this.