I was going to post this on facebook, but felt it to be too ‘personal’, even though everything I write is personal on many levels. It’s like a post I put up a while ago, the post that started it all. Well, stop talking. Agh.

I think for once, overconfidence is worse than being self conscious. I’ve got myself into some shit I can’t get out of alone. I feel like I have bitten off more than I can chew, literally and figuratively. I’ve gained 40 pounds since I realized that life is worth living and that I have so many things to be grateful for. Ever since I stopped blaming people for my problems and faced life with a fresh face, I’ve just gone spiraling downwards physically.

I break out in acne more often than usual, and no matter what I eat, I gain weight. Ever since I stopped caring about what people thought, and felt that the body I was in was beautiful, I’ve gone out of control. Because I don’t care what other people say and do, I’ve stopped caring what I say and do. I eat because I want to, and don’t exercise because I hate it. But when people ask me if I care about getting fatter, I say “I love myself, I love food, and I hate exercising.” This has ruined me. Because I have decided to not care, I have now started to care. I don’t know or care if that made sense.

I’ve been so tired, even though I usually get a good 8 hours of sleep every night. I have just had no motivation to do anything. I wish sometimes that I was a zombie so I wouldn’t have to be around people without being declared ‘anti-social’. I had a chat with my insane mother about this, and she said that I was probably just depressed. But I thought, this has already happened to me, I have already been through that. I made it out, and I was never going back. I thought that you only go through that ‘identity, who am I?’ type of phase once in your adolescence. It’s different now, though. I don’t want to die, I really really want to live. It’s not even about that. I just, I don’t know what I have to do. I feel like I have no purpose anymore. I have friends who care and people to laugh with, but I’ve never felt more alone in my life, including during those three dark years.

I’ve lost my love for music. I can’t just listen to any random playlist on my iPod and disappear into nothingness. It just doesn’t happen anymore. I sometimes have cravings to listen to certain nostalgic songs, but nothing spikes my interest anymore. I blame it on every band sounding alike and nobody being original anymore, but I think the real reason is that I have no tolerance for beauty anymore. I haven’t been able to write, paint, or sing in a long time, and I feel like I never will be able to again. I know it’s not true; I write in English class, I paint with my niece, and I sing in the shower; but nothing is the same.

It’s hard to find joy in everyday life. I feel like I’ve put up a barrier that holds people back from asking me things about myself. I have noticed that I act  perfectly normal, like everything is okay and I have nothing on the back of my mind. It’s so stupid! I have nothing to be sad about! But I am, and I don’t know why.