That was a total - complete - epic - fail. I really don't know if I was actually intending to follow through. Probably not. Writing the words did make me feel better, though. It gave me hope. However, because of that now I feel like absolute shit. Really - shit.
I don't know what's wrong with me. Actually, I know what's wrong with me but don't know how to find the will power to fix myself. Everything, when looked at collectively, seems so painful and pointless. Why love someone if they're going to leave you? Why go to work if it makes you hate your life five days a week? Why hope for something better when it will just leave you disappointed?
I know - I'm a pessimist. That puts it lightly. See what I mean? I'm broken. The hardest part is knowing that I'm the only one to blame for being like this. Still, I find myself seeking out people to blame, situations and memories that threw my life off track. Truth is, it's me. I'm responsible. I am the reason I am who I am. Sure, I had some help along the way but, ultimately, I decided which experiences shaped the person I've become.
I'm lacking. I'm less than what I want to be. Not where I want to be. Nowhere near it. Not even close.
I could have been more. I can. I would if I wasn't so damn scared and wary of everyone in my life. I feel let down by the people meant to be my protectors and confidants. I feel crippling sadness knowing the life that I could of had but don't. I know that I'm able to change everything in my life that leaves me feeling this way. What scares me the most is being myself. Putting myself out to someone, anyone. I don't know what I would do if I were to be rejected for being me.
I know none of this is making sense. None of it is making any sense to me, either.
