I don’t know how much longer this joy will last. Hopefully until the end of the year, but I doubt it. Hey, at least I’m not completely empty… I feel like I’m just complaining for the sake of complaining, and that this isn’t real… I’ve never been diagnosed with anything, because I don’t think that it’s a big deal, or that I lie. I lie a lot. More than I should, about small things. Hell, my entire life is a goddamn lie at this point. Stuck between two choices, unable to listen to what my conflicting ideas are. I feel alone and wish I could reach out, yet I purposely close myself off. My own safety blanket has become my own fucking chain down to my issues. I hate this all… but I won’t go. I can’t. Too many people are counting on me. I have to be there for people. I won’t live for myself… I have to live for others. If that’s what it takes, so be it.