Severely depressed lately. I’m not really sure why. But I know I’m not happy. I think I was happy earlier. But now I can’t remember. It’s times like these that make me wonder what’s the point anymore. I have no purpose. I have nothing. I’m alone…
I lie a lot more than I would hope to.
Every time I get asked if I’m OK, I lie and say yes I am. But I’m not…
I lie to everyone. Including myself sometimes. But the one I can’t lie to is my dog. She knows something is wrong, she’s clinging to me.
I’m not OK. I wish I was. I wish I could explain this feeling of defeat and depression to you. I wish you could understand why, in times like this, I want to cut. But its a scary thought and it’s not a good thing to think about.
Right now, I’ve realized that I am alone. I have one friend that I talk to almost daily. And right now I have that feeling that I want to go home, then I remember that I don’t have a home. I’m living in someone else’s place, its not my own. I don’t have a shelf to put my things, I don’t have a closet for my clothes, hell, my clothes are in baskets and a storage tub.
Pity party? Maybe. But I wish that I could just give up. Because I’m realizing that I am alone.
I wish I could just die. But I can’t. And maybe I don’t really want that. I’m anxious, I feel it all over. I want to cut. I need to. But I can’t.
So much for being stable.
I feel like all my nerves are on edge.
I hurt, everywhere.
But especially inside.
I want to cry.
I just want to be held.
I m lonely, but I want to be alone.
I miss him.
More than anything.
And I feel empty.
I feel so lonely tonight. I’m tired and I just want to go home.
I’m back at work. Shocker right? I’ve had like a week off and have gotten used to being with hubby at night. Being with him after he gets off work and sleeping with him at night. Now. Now, I’m all alone.
I hate that feeling. It feels like something a pathetic person would say, and I’m not pathetic. But I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. I want to go home.
I want to be with him. I want to be asleep and in his arms. But I’m not.
I’m sweating my ass off for people who could care less. Not the residents, but the others that I have to deal with. While the night is going quickly, it’s not going quick enough. I’m still here and I don’t like it one bit. I keep trying to tell myself “one more day, I can do this.” But I feel like I can’t. I just want to go home.
If I didn’t need to work, I wouldn’t. But I need the money, isn’t that always the problem? Money is a major issue with everyone. Money rules the world and is the root of all evil. Pathetic.
I have a new job lined up. One that I’m hoping to start very soon. But I fear everything. I’m afraid of change, but I’m so ready to get out of this hell.
I just have to keep thinking that there is something better than this out there. There has to be.
I don’t want a perfect life, I know there is no such thing, but damn it. I just want to be happy and it seems that even that is too much to ask. I don’t understand what it’s going to take for me to just be happy with what I have, where I’m at. To be semi-normal. I’m just tired of being like this.
I’m tired of being in a building full of people and feel empty and lonely.