Tuesday, August 09, 2005

I was laying on my bed thinking. How did I get to be this person I am now? I'm 21 years old and I'm fucking medicated. Fucking unhappy when I have a whole lot of life yet to live and the only way I get by each day is by taking my 10mg of antidepressants and forcing myself not to think about anything worth thinking about. I have been mean to T lately. When I get alcohol in me I get mean. This isnt always the case. Just recently. I say how he isn't here. These thoughts are slipping into my sober mind. Am I not happy? I just had the strangest thought. I can chose what I want to do in my life. I don't have to be with T, I don't have to go to school. Do I want either? Or is that just what everyone has always said to do? I think I want T. So why do I think of others? Am I just afraid of all that part of my life being over or am I truely bored?

I may have a fucking heart murmur. I guess I should get that checked up on. I figured I should have been dead a long time ago the way my body is always messed up, espeically as a child. Always had health problems.

What if I can't fucking be good enough? I think THAT is my biggest fear. Then I have to ask: good enough for who? And I'm beginning to see the answer is my own expectations.

I get sick of myself sometimes.

Sometimes I just feel like sitting in the dark on my bed, staring up at the ceiling and crying and crying for no reason. I'm so sick of staring at the same four walls. I'm so sick of all my material posessions around me mocking me. I'm so sick of everything in my life. I'm ungrateful. I have so much and all I can fucking say is how sick of it all I am.

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