I gotta keep writing on this thing. I don't want to just quit on it. I have a real tangible journal and I never write in it. I use to quite often. It's almost ten years old now and it's incredibly interesting and sad to read. I was the saddest child ever and still just as sad. What was the point of therapy? and meds for that matter? Sadness everywhere in my heart and in my soul and it never goes away. I shake when no one is looking, I swell tears in my eyes when no one is there, I am always a circus balancing act in front of everyone to watch and laugh at. Who am I? Why am I like this? Why the self mutilation? Why am I not better?
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