I had a party tonight. A real boring, come, watch movies, leave, little shin-dig. I didn't know if half of the people even liked me or if they just came to see each other. I get so self-concious about those sort of things these days. I feel paper thin and so easily blown over. Every joke is about me, every look must be secretly in my direction, and never for a good reason. I am so paranoid that I imagine my best friends insulting me only ten feet away, and in my own home. I made myself believe that they were making fun of my mother for ten minutes, and once I had gotten genuinely pissed, I found out that it was just about a jar of pickles. My conclusion: I need help. Nick is so honest-to-god in love with me, that seeing anyone else is just a harsh reality check. I get reminded that half of them won't like me most of the time, maybe even all of them. I tell myself that I actually have to try, and it just seems like such a waste of energy, that all I want to do is be back with Nick, once again. Laying in his arms, I feel safe. No matter how cliche that sounds, it's true. Not just in the physical sense, but in the mental too. He would never intentionally put me down, or hurt me. Isn't it sad to think that my friends would do that? I tell myself that I can get out of here soon, go to college, make friends that won't talk about me. But, then I remind myself that they're still people, that no matter where I go, it will always be the same. That kills me. It really does. I want so badly to find a way out. To just wake up one day and discover that it was all some sort of wacked up dream. Earth never existed. I live on a nice planet where they have never felt loneliness or hurt. On this planet of mine, everyone loves one another with amazing, irresistable, force. Am I silly for dreaming like this? I need to grow up. I really do. My life is going to amount to nothing if I don't start working on it soon. I swear, my mind is deteriorating day by day, piece by piece. My body has sure gone to hell. I gained ten pounds. TEN. I have never been this large before. None of my clothes will fit. Yet, I can't bring myself to do anything about it. I am pathetic. On another note, my mom wants me to see a counselor. She thinks that I need help in dealing with my father. Which is true, I need a lot of help with that, but talking to a complete stranger about my deep, dark, problems? I don't think so. That is too much for me. NO THANKS. I can hardly talk to Nick about it without bawling my stupid eyes out, I haven't even told my friends about my father. Why should I tell a random lady that I know is only helping me because I'm paying her? It seems like a great big waste of money to me.