My previous entry was one year and one day ago, and the only improvement I have been able to make in that amount of time is getting rid of some ugly sweaters. What exactly is it that holds some of us back from having the life we could have and sticking to this shit hole of an existence we have now? If anyone out there would be able to answer that, maybe I would have some hint as to why suicide is becoming more attractive than just toughing it out one more day. Honestly, if I were in any way special and God had a "plan" for me, who's to say his plan wasn't to have my death inspire more grant money into mental illness research? Perhaps that's the big idea. Perhaps this is why I'm unable to make the simplest of social attachments- so that no one will feel exceptionally bad that I committed a "selfish act" and wasn't around for people to ignore or step on anymore.
Do not be alarmed at anything written here; I'm a terrible coward and have no intention of killing myself. I will continue to live with my parents and be abused until I am married off to someone who will continue the tradition of treating me like the dirt under one's toenails. As a matter of fact, imaginary friend, you might be the only person who actually gives a flying hoot whether or not I'm around anymore, as a person and not as property. Thank you, faceless audience, you cheered me right up to know at least someone cares. I have to go now, but it was nice being with you.
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