Broken.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written, but I thought about this diary randomly earlier in the week, and I read thorough a lot of my entries again.  Most of them are from high school.  I’ve had this diary since 2001, and now I feel like I’d like to keep writing in it.

I feel… hopeless.  That pretty much sums it up right there.  I feel like life is either miserable or boring.  I can’t think of too many happy moments that I’ve had in the my entire 36 years of existence.  Who knew when I started this diary, that I would still be coming back to it at 36?  I kind of miss high school.  At least then I had quite a few friends.  I seemed to have hope.  It’s very obvious I was trying to fight against severe depression that went undiagnosed for years.  Ever since I was in 1st grade, I knew there was something wrong with me, and I couldn’t understand it or figure it out, and the adults in my life failed miserably to help me.  They didn’t even try.  They just thought I was doing everything I was doing for attention or to get out of school.  Which, by the way, most kids dread going to school.  A lot of kids cry thinkin about it.  That right there says that there is something incredibly fucked up about the school system.  I think back, and I’m like… seriously… teachers wouldn’t let us go to the bathroom when we needed to??!  Like what is that?  Only 5 minutes between classes to get your shit and go through a huge fucking maze of a school?  Teachers that shouldn’t be teachers… I mean, I don’t like kids, but I also know that because of that, my profession definitely shouldn’t be a teacher.  Anyway, I digress.

I was saying I feel hopeless.  I remember in school they would tell the people who got picked on regularly that “it gets better.”  I’m here to tell you that it most certainly does not.  People don’t pick on me now.  But there are more other awful things in life that come along instead.  And I have realized that I tend to cling to whatever thing comes along, just to try to feel good… even if that thing or person is definitely not good for me.  I feel broken.  I feel like I don’t have the ability to make good choices anymore.  I keep making all the wrong ones.  They say you aren’t supposed to look outside yourself for happiness, but….

*Okay, I wrote a lot more than this, but for some reason OD didn’t save it, and now I’m fucking pissed.  I guess I’ll just sum it up in saying, I cling to whatever comes along.  I have had shitty boyfriends, and I still have one.  I was messing around with a coworker who didn’t want a relationship with me… used me until he found someone better who he really did want a relationship with.  It was the only thing I had left that I looked forward to, and now I don’t have that, and I feel hopeless and broken.  Essentially, reading over old diary entries has triggered me to starve myself again.  It’s the only thing I can control.  I’m hopeless and broken and sick of life.**