I have redesigned my myspaces. I have looked at everyone elses. Can anyone say stalker? I have a near burn on my lap from my computer. Can’t wait until my new one comes. It is supposed to get shipped tomorrow. I have this urge to take time off and just write. Like two or three days. Mental illness counts for sick days. I have been really up and down lately. Every once in a while I give into self loathing depression. It is a fight and sometimes I feel like i am losing that fight. I realized lately that I have serious abandonment issues. My dad left several times and I cannot seem to get over the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him to change…not important enough. I know that that is not true, but for some reason my brain does not. My mom never thought I was pretty, thin, or good enough. So, my brain doesn’t allow me to think anyone else does either. What the hell. Am I schitzophrenic or what? I know the truth. I keep telling myself the truth, but then my idiot chromosomes or mitochondria or something just doesn’t believe it. So then, I am alone and sad in a world full of people who have no idea what a wreck I am. I am truly a hazard to myself. Don’t let me get me.
I am okay now. But sometimes. ugh.