Crazy.

Something happened to me last night. But I just can't put it into words.

I cried myself to sleep.

Well, I was just lying there, and I thought I'd listen to some music on my mp3 player. I did. I love listening to music, there are some pretty amazing artists out there. Listening to some of my favorite songs made feel really happy. I was lay there smiling, sometimes even bopping to the music, god help me.

But then I decided I'd had enough, switched it off and tried to go to sleep. Only I couldn't sleep. It is at night, just as I am trying to go to sleep, that I think the most. I have nothing to do, nothing really to occupy my mind, and so my brain roams free.

But these past few days, I seem to end up thinking about things like pain, depression, hurt, hurting myself. At one point last night I actually wanted to get up out of bed and cut myself - the only reason I didn't do so was because I have nothing in my bedroom to do it with. I felt so lost. There were so many things crowding up my mind, I was fit to explode.

But then somehow I wound up thinking about my family, and how I'd hate to lose them. Something about that made me crack. I started crying when it came to picturing my little brother. I got up and searched for a little toy lion he had given me for a birthday once, and I held it close to me for the rest of the night. I felt like a little kid. But as I clutched it tight, I cried even more. I wanted someone to hold me right then, like I've never wanted anything else before.

And now, the morning after, I feel different. As if nothing matters to me. I sort of know what's important to me now. I know who I love, and who I couldn't care less about. I know a little about myself that I didn't know 24 hours ago.