I fluctuate between anger and sadness and bitterness and anger. I want to be a friendly likable person. I want this so badly I allow other people to use me without being aware until I snap and just lash out and sometimes I think my father must have been right about one thing and that maybe I really am just going to end up alone because I get to a certain point and I just want to burn every single bridge in my life and that feeling scares me. I want to dump Evan and move in to my own place and not know anyone anymore and just be alone. I want to be my own person but I sacrifice my relationships to that end and I wonder how many people find me completely unbearable to be around. I spent at least 20 minutes just sitting in my truck thinking about this and Evan came out asking what was wrong. I just couldn’t talk to him. I couldn’t deal with conversation. It gets to a point where I feel like my feelings can’t be expressed with words and I want to just crawl deep into the grave I’ve dug and live there beneath the earth alone with the worms and the smell of damp earth and no imposing sunlight or responsibility to bother me. I am so entitled and I just want everything to fit together nicely and it never does and I feel like something is wrong with me because I can’t make the pieces fit together correctly. I want to move again, I don’t want school, I want to earn enough to be independent but that goal seems so implausible but I hate sharing this space. I need my space. I need my own place. I need my cat and my own kitchen and my own things. I really will end up alone and there’s this part of my brain that urges that on and says stay alone, its best for everyone. I don’t like sex, I can’t buy love and happiness, and I’d be better off giving up on other people because you’ll never be enough. This is becoming a self pity party and it shouldn’t. I can be independent and happy, but I don’t want to hurt people. I get so frustrated with them and I feel so lame and pathetic because it feels like I will never accomplish anything more notable than working at McDonald’s for minimum wage and pissing off my managers and goddamn am I sick of it. I’m sick of being looked at like this dyke freak that aspires toward nothing and is abrasive and annoying. I’m the girl no one wants to know but is alright with briefly associating with. I feel like a black hole is forming in my chest and it’s sucking everything of worth in and spitting out two red hot radio lobes of self-doubt and anger. I hurt them, and I just want to make them happy. What about when I need help and I just can’t ask for it. It’s like I’m incapable of reaching out. I shut down and bottle things up and that isn’t healthy but I don’t want to change. I’d rather shut everyone out and live alone and satisfy my father’s predictions for my dismal future because most of the time I don’t feel like I need anyone. I feel so worthless when I can’t make people laugh or smile. I feel so worthless when I get up in the morning and look in the mirror at myself and see all these things reflected in my face that I never expected to be there. I hold my own gaze for a few moments and feel sick and want to turn away because I can’t stand the sight of my own face. I think about all my horrible thoughts and feelings and how transparent they seem on my face and I cringe at the thought of anyone else even glimpsing them. I wonder have I always been here, or is this some transition with no visible beginning or end into something different? What am I waiting in this hole for? How long will I feel incapable of accomplishing things? I smoke and I drink and I blink and I sweat and I toil for what seems like the same things over and over again reflected in different ways. My talents don’t seem like talents but rather hopeful attempts at mediocrity that usually end in failure and disappointment. So when?