I do believe I’ve begun to talk to myself as if someone else is there. I’m talking to a pretend someone who will help me with my problems. Except I woke up last night on the verge of a panic attack with just an aching feeling of grief and loneliness, hopelessness, worthlessness. I just moaned and threw myself around in circles because no matter what, the aching never left
Life fucking sucks. Might as well get that out of the way now.
Some days it would be so much easier if it were just fucking over. And some days it seems like it already is, like living days that have no substance.
I’m living, but not really there.
Why does my life suck? I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m mentally disturbed, I’m lonely, and everything.g is quite frankly very miserating. My motivation to do anything worthwhile has blantantly disappeared over the past few months. The larger disorders, the social phobias, the binge eating disorder, the anxiety, the OCD, the paranoia, they’ve been there for years. […]