I've been really obsessed with all that "being myself" crap lately. It's stupid, because you shouldn't actually worry about something like that. It's one of those things that should come naturally, just like the biology teacher said about breathing and the heart beating and our kidnees working. (I've been really enjoying biology lately).
The thing is, my true self is now a mess. I'm such a huge mess. I am. I'm a mess when I'm around other people and I "can't be myself". I'm a mess when I get annoyed by things I, apparently, shouldn't get annoyed by (which is certanly not "being myself", which is now getting me a little annoyed and making me think I have a mental problem). I'm a mess when I'm home alone, feeling sorry for myself, watching the Big Bang Theory, and then Friends, and then eating like a crazy obese person. (And man, I'm so seriously lucky I can do this - eat like a crazy obese person - and not get fat. Because, you know, sometimes, it's good, eating like a crazy obese person). I'm a mess when my mom gets home from work and asks me what happened and why I'm not treating her well, and I just start crying, and I don't know if I can tell her what's really going on with me. Not because I'm hiding it from her or anything, but because I don't know if I can actually tell at all why all of this is happening.
It's just, everything felt so so wrong after our last fight. I wasn't feeling well.
And so, Giovana, the little girl who likes to think of herself as a feeling-lover, the little girl who thinks we need being sad as much as we need being happy, just wanted to run away from feeling that miserable. Only she ended up making everything much, much worse.
And now here she is. And now here I am.
So now, I can either go and take care of myself, or go back to bed and watch TV and blame my parents, my not-going-to-Paris, or even the annoying ending of a movie for my misery.

Except, hey, I may be a mess, and it might be really hard, and take a lot of força de vontade, but I am working on making it all go away.