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Jesus christ am i lonely.

I'm lonely not just because i want to cuddle with someone. Laugh and share and touch someone.

Because i dont think I'll ever find anyone for the next 30 years of my miserable life. Because i know in my bones I'll be fucking 55 sitting alone drunk in a chair watching stupid tv not being able to share a thing with anyone.

You know why i don't remember anything at all from my life?

Because i don't share anything with anyone. Because no one cares about my life. Because no one ever bothers enough to ask. And when i share without being asked it's met with total silence and awkwardness.

Man did i have dreams. Man was i wrong. Always wrong.

I'm alien.

Im trying to be nicer but i can't control the visceral anger in my heart. In my soul.

I keep remembering all this bad shit and i just can't overcome it. I hate everything. Why is that so wrong. Why am i trying to correct it when it's all i know?

I'm trying to reach at least a state of serenity, of grace, of peace. Some kind of compromise where i'm alone bit not so angry.

It just keeps failing.

I've had some odd health shit lately and i hope i'm just dying. I don't want to be alive anymore. It hurts too much. Or its just too.... too much nothing.

So invisible. So unappreciated. So unnoticed.

So unhappy.....

Oct. 28th, 2017

I am incapable of happiness.

I am incapable of real hope.

I am incapable of being loved.

I'm a monster, a misfit, a mistake, an outcast.

If depression was cancer I'd be stage four. Four thousand maybe.

There's no cure for this kind if brain illness. The darkness doesn't ever lift, there are merely breaks in the clouds every noe and then.

But i live in the darkness. It's where i belong.

No one wants me here. I don't want to be here.

So truly, why am i still fucking here....


I am a loser.

Can't win at all no matter what i do.

No matter what it is. Trying to do do nice things and be better, be less...... alone... and just keep getting shit on for it no matter where i turn.

Im going to die alone in a shitty apartment. No one will find me until im half wasted away because no one will miss me. My body will be found by a stranger.

That's my future and I've known it for years.

I want to move far away and be drunk and write. I have so much to write. But i cannot do it in the shadow of my parents. It's impossible.

More than that i think i'd just like to die and get it all overwith. No one wants me, no one sees me, no one cares at all.

I'm a fat fucking waste.

On the one tiny brightside, chris has left me totally along for days. I have to write him SOON and close this chapter once and for all.

Alone baby. All i know.

Everything hurts. My work bestie quit today.... I'll likely never see her again.....

This is why i dont get close to anyone. I push them all away. Lone for life. Its easier. More boring, but less painful times a thousand.

I dont belong here.


So after my meltdown, I started doing random other shit on Snapchat and guess who looks at my stories right away??

I don't understand this man.

But I do know that all of it, ALL OF IT, could be taken care of if I just grew some fucking balls and said HEY, TAKE ME OUT.

I am insanely shy..

And I spent my drunken night planning my best friend's wedding with a girl I honestly DO like a lot, but I don't think she's quite good enough for him. I mean, who knows in the long run, I just think he's settling, and she's stretching. Just so they won't be alone.

I've been alone for a decade so I sort of turn down my nose on that shit. But that's my own self-righteous bullshit.

I also think there's a part of me that wishes he would have fought or held out longer for me. But the way he went about it was all wrong. He lied to his friends about our (platonic) relationship and it killed any chance he ever had with me. Even though he and I together would be phenominal.

Regardless. I believe I'll be attending his wedding, at Disney, at the beginning of December. Part of me thinks he's delayed this not just because of his family, but because I'll make a crazy gesture of love. I still think I could stop all this with the right words, the right look, and a kiss.

Is that seriously conceited or do I just KNOW HIM? Because I do know him, better than she does, and I always have. I don't take much pride in it, I just sort of think she's an idiot for not seeing him like I do. He's been one of my best friends for FOREVER. And I miss him like crazy, and that's her fault.

So, I'm mixed about all this. And it affects me more than it should, probably. And I think he refrains from telling me about it because he wishes it was me. Because with me, it wouldn't be this drawn out and complicated and secretive. With me, it would be normal and fun.

But I don't want him, not like that. We DID have a pact that I would happily collect on in my old age, but who honestly holds their friends to that? It was a pipe dream.

I have my eyes set on someone else, anyway. Someone I hope will just... sweep me away. But. I have to change myself.

And I am so beyond stubborn.

And low.

Anyway. Just feel like this whole situation is weird. And if it does happen that they get married in Disney with me and one other as witness, I feel like there is an odd midnight convo on deck between him and I to hash all this out once and for all. I owe it to him to stop being so mysterious, and he needs it to move on. I feel like I am an active road block to their happiness.

I don't know if she'll ever make him HAPPY, but she's certainly given him a home, and made him content. Which, truly, what else could I hope for for him?

Me? I'm something else. I could never settle for that. I am fire and ice and wind and earth all together. Stubborn and mercurial and fierce and cold all at once. I need something I never got from him, and never could. I need a spark, a push. A pull.

A pull I haven't felt in years, but I feel from someone now, strangely.

I need to showcase all these different parts of me so he knows who I even am. I'm not just a drunk. I'm so much more.

I need to develop those other sides.

And apparently, plan a trip to Orlando in December.


I haven't felt okay this entire week, save for the brief two hours I was drunk on Wednesday.

I've been drunk since about 6pm today and I've felt great, invincible even, since then.

See, people ask why I drink so much. They wonder. I don't feel like I can do anything at all unless I'm drunk.

I need to find a better way to feel this way, but regardless.

I feel like I can even message the guy I like.

I feel like I can finally write Chris so that he'll knock it off. That HAS GOT to be soon.

I am mentally tortured and obliterated by the shit he does. I crumble and just die. It's not even right the power he has over me.

And then I get drunk and listen to Greta Van Fleet and feel like I can do anything on earth.

I'm going to buy tickets for me and Kelly for after Christmas and I'm going to wear a Frankenmuth shirt and I want to be like 30 lbs thinner so I need to make this shit happen. I've barely eaten all week (or drank until today, with the exception of Wednesday) and so I mean. I can DO THIS)

We moved Lee Ann today and I have no idea what happened (except for maybe Aaron grew up) because she is insane, and ungrateful, and disgusting. But I am also WAAAY judgey so who knows.

I want my own place SOON. Which means I need a significant raise. But even if it's only a mediocre one, I need to move out. I have to.

I need alone time more than anything at all.

So drunk right now I want to snap Mike me singing to be like HEY LOOK AT ME I AM AMAZING STOP BEING SO EMBARRASSED AND TALK TO ME

But more than that I want to be in a tiny venue with wall to wall humans listening to this kid wail like Robert Plant. More than ANYTHING.


so drunk i believe in hope again, hahahaha maria you IDIOT


Today might be the day.

It just might.

I can't do this anymore.

I can't hurt like this anymore.

I can see it, feel it. It scares me how little I care. On days like today, if I want to survive, I have to make sure I don't wind up at the top of a building, or with a knife in my hand, because i swear it... I am so close.

I don't want to keep fighting anymore. It hurts too much to survive.

I am such a coward. I'm beaten but won't surrender. Doesn't make me stronger, doesn't make me a survivor, it makes me a masochist and an idiot.

When I woke up this morning, I said to myself, "the world will keep on moving whether your heart is shattered or not." It will keep on moving if I'm totally gone, too.

Because I don't matter here, to anyone. I just don't.

So why am I still here?

Bad heart

It's to the point where my wasted, broken heart cannot be saved.

It's so bad that it would never be fair to ask another person to help mend it. To expect that someone may be able to bring it back to life.

It's so grotesque, hard, shattered, and black that I do not want anyone to ever see it. Not ever.

I'm going to be alone forever. I've known this for ages, but there still, infrequent as it is, are moments and people that make me believe that life doesn't have to be that way, for me.

It's a nightmare.

I get pulled out and have all these hopes and dreams and then crushed right back down, worse than before.

Over and over and over again.

A boy would have to hit me in the face with a bat for me to pick up on whether or not he liked me. My own behavior in this department is sad.

So the only option left is to heal my heart on my own, right?

I don't know that that's possible in any way. My depression is so bad. My anxiety gets worse the older I get. I actively push hope out of my life. I push everyone away whether they deserve it or not.

I'm numb. I'm raw. I'm broken.

It feels like there is a thunderstorm in my brain. Swirling, negative thoughts assaulting me at every turn.

No one likes me, everyone hates me, no one wants me around, no one values anything i do, I'm invisible, unloved, unwanted.. a failure, a mess, a burden. A fat ugly bitch.

These thoughts on repeat in my head forever. There's no making it stop. It will never stop. It's all true, that's why.

It's my truth, if nothing else.

Please breathe

I am heading like a freight train into a total mental collapse.

Why do i ever hope. Why do i ever dream.

Only ever gets me in trouble.

The universe only exists to troll me and mske my life hell. Everything i want is hung from my face like a carrot and when i get close enough to smell it, it turns out its fake. Theres nothing for me here.

No matter how hard I work, no matter how hard I try, no matter what i do different, nothing ever matters.

3 libras. You dont see me at all.


Thank god for my LJ.


Today has just been one horrific turn after another.

Started well, my boss bought me coffee, and from there we had a steady decent into shit.

Highlights: My bosses had ANOTHER threesome. The boy I like continues to act like I don't exist. My foot absolutely kills me. I'm fat as fuck. Chris sent me flowers.

I had no choice but to get drunk tonight. Sometimes, and I know in my soul, that if I lived alone this is all I would do. I'd never eat, I'd get drunk, and I'd write.

And I honestly, truly, whole-heartedly, think this is what I need.

There are stories inside me begging to get out. It's painful.

I'll never have my own love story -- there isn't a man on earth brave enough to take me on. I am too shy when I do like someone so they always think I don't like them when I'm actually head over heels for them. but no matter what, i do not appreciate a 1am SUP. Hate it. dealbreaker.

Especially when you don't have the guts to talk to me again after you do that.



I need to write so I can make some money and get the fuck out of where I am. I need my own place, so my alcoholism can blossom and consume me. I have nothing else. I never will.

Being drunk allows all this shit inside me to flow. I need to get it out.

And then I need to die.

Nothing for me here.

All bullshit, all false hope, all nothing. Begging for a lifeline and receiving nothing at all -- worse than that, even.

I know this stupid fuck likes me but he's too chicken shit to say it. To even.... I just... I can't.

Kelly's life is taking off exactly how I've always wished it would in her life. I am SO, so so, so so so so SO happy for her. I love it. I love hearing about all the good shit. I love hearing the jokes. i love seeing the huge smile on her face. I just love it. I am bursting in happiness for her.

And I am just quietly dying inside because my own stupid love adventure is a disaster. It's all in my head. It's not real. It probably could be, but he and I just can't... It's me, okay. I'm scary and intimidating and mean and way overweight and have no confidence and no hope. So I don't count and never will. No one will EVER want me like I want them.

And then my old boyfriends refuse to go away when we've ended it all.

And the ones I want to fight for me never will. Never. They'll probably never say another word to me as long as I live, no matter what.

So I drink. It's all I got. Makes me feel better. Blast my music, sing my heart out, go numb. All I have. All I'll ever have.


He does not like me.

He is barely interested in me.

All the shit the other week was a fucking joke.

Any amount of attention you take from 0 to the moon when it's only a kind courtesy.

You have to stop.

The universe hates you. Hates you. Always has. You see his car everywhere because the powers that be love to taunt and hurt you. It does NOT mean you should hope and believe in him.

He thinks almost nothing of you and never will.

Soon, it will be absolutely nothing.

Whoever you were in your past life must have been awful. Every single thing you want in this life, you will never ever have.

It was not real. Stop. Your dreams of love and happiness with him or anyone will never be real. Ever.

Fuck how many times do i have to learn that it will never, ever be me.

3 libras. My whole life.

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