Things are…okay at the moment.
I’m not failing school (currently).
I have friends who, for some reason, put up with my shit despite everything and seem to genuinely care about me.
I have two modelling jobs this weekend, and a few more later next month.
My parents aren’t cursing me for being in a good mood….at the moment.
My brother doesn’t steal my things anymore. Probably because I am lacking in things to actually steal, but that’s beside the point.
I’ve found joy in writing and drawing once again.
I have some amount of measurable intelligence which will get me through 2CD Mathematics.
I haven’t yet stuffed up my ball gown. And I’ve finished the bodice already and it looks good fitted on me, albeit very slutty sans the skirt.
I actually have a date to the ball (thank you God).
I’m slightly better looking than a dishrag.
I was described as Dita Von Tease x Jennifer Lawrence x Luna Lovegood, which is enough to satisfy my vanity for one day, though it’s probably far from true.
My hair is fucking amazing.
I don’t have breakdowns every day.
And I have some reason to believe that no matter what, I’ll be okay on my own.
So that’s good. Because for now, things feel worth surviving for.
And I haven’t even been out on meds yet.