Life

So I am going to start writing every day. It might help calm my feelings and suppress my urge to cut or commit suicide. I am worthless. I know people will tell me that I am not, but I do not believe them. I do not think that I will accomplish anything in life. I am a pathetic human who is greedy and overweight and a hypocrite. I wish I was anything else but me. I wish i was anywhere else but here. If all else fails, there is always school, right? But where will that take me? I do not know what I want to do with my life. I want a husband. I want kids. I want to be happy. I want a lot of things that are never going to happen. I want to die. That will happen eventually I suppose.

Yonah is a douche. I just wish I was more than a piece of ass. I cannot get him out of my life. There is always that glimmer of hope that he'll one day realize that he likes me. I need to stop being so vulnerable to him. Michael too. He makes me upset. He deserves the best, but why can't it be me? I'm just not good enough for anyone. I need to be alone for a while. I am afraid that will make it worse though. I need people to care. Who am I kidding? No one cares now. David is a pathetic excuse for a boyfriend. I never see him. He is not what I want. We have great sex, but I am just not happy. I wish I knew if he was.

For a while, I was starting to think I loved him. I think I was just in love with the idea of someone actually loving me, someone actually caring. No one cares about me. No one. If I left the earth right now, there would be a few people who would notice. They would feel guilty because I told them about my suicidal tendencies. They would not care though. Only about themselves. I am not worthy enough of their sadness. I am not worthy enough for anything....

Water Running Down My Face

I am miserable. I do not know what I am doing anymore. I am lying to myself that I am happy because I am too afraid to be alone. I am too afraid to admit that no one will ever love me. I am to afraid to admit I am sick, that I have a disease that will eventually kill me. I am too afraid to admit that i have manic depression. I am afraid to admit that I am fat. No matter how real the problem is, I joke about it like it means nothing. Truth is, it does. Fuck! I hate crying about everything. I hate crying about just being a sex object. I hate that I am not good enough for anyone. They tell you to love yourself so others will... Well no one cares unless I am bleeding on the wrists. I give up on caring. I just want to love and be loved in return. That will never happen. My boyfriend is a joke. The two men I would be happiest with either see me as a sex object or a tool to get someone other than me. I never could truly be with the women I like either. I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate this. I say I just want to make a difference but it would mean nothing to me without someone to share it with. I will never be happy. I am going to die alone. I need attention yet it is the thing that I dispise the most because it is never sincere. I wish someone would be sincere. I wish I could be happy. I wish I could be beautiful. I wish I could love my self....