To be honest it's not worth complaining about. But then how can I write without something to complain about? Why do we write, then? I don't know, I guess for me it's like a compulsion. It's become almost second nature. I suppose I rely on it because it's the closest thing I have to talking, and even though nobody reads it or can help me, it's an outlet that lets me pull that negative energy out before it builds up and explodes. I can't do it any other way, like normal people might.

But anyway, we got into childhood development disorders in psych class and lo and behold we get to selective mutism, and somebody in the front is like, "my sister…" and then I tuned the rest out. Because that's exactly how I feel. Like a little child. But then again even children can speak, so what does that make me?

And I just lay there with my head on my desk and watched everyone walk out. It's hard to believe I've ever been more lonely. You just want to form normal relationships with people, have people that you can turn to and trust and have fun with. You just want to feel wanted… normal. I feel so insignificant, invisible… it's like I don't even exist. I see all these people with their friends and significant others and I just feel so envious, because I've got nothing. Daily life feels so empty.

Doesn't help that I'm good at nothing, including school.

Walking down the street I just want to so badly jump in front of car. Of course they don't go fast enough, but… you get my drift. I want so badly just to end it all. I had such a bad urge to slash myself too. I actually lifted up the lid of a recycling bin to see if there were any glass bottles, but… some old guy walked in so I said screw it, I don't need it. I don't need it. God what happened to me? It's all gone horribly wrong!

How have I survived this long? I guess I've got some kind of stubbornness in me. In that I'm a stubborn @$$. At least I already feel better. Normally these kind of episodes last at least the rest of the day. So maybe I really am getting a little better on the depressive end.

Of course, the mentally insane end causes the rest… haha. It's hard not to keep from worrying if I'll ever get better. I've been this way for so long… nothing really helped. But I guess I'm doing good. I hate when people use the "people are in worse situations than you" thing to try to make you stop feeling bad. Yeah, I know others are worse off. I feel for them too and wish I could help them. I have my pets and family at home at least. But that reasoning doesn't work. I don't want to seem callous, but the self comes first, right? You can't really do anything for anyone else if your life isn't in order. And ultimately, knowing there are worse people out there doesn't take away my own pain. In fact, if someone actually considers me to be one of those people "worse off", then I just feel even more like crap. It's counterproductive reasoning.

(But on the positive side I don't have to deal with all the petty relationship fights or broken friendships and crap!  But that's what lead me here in the first place (mostly)…) 

But anyway, I just want to know what it's like to feel happy. It's like searching for El Dorado. You wanna see the light? So do I…

Stay strong all.