Ending the week on a shit note. I'm depressed. I'm angry. I'm anxious. I'm so unhappy with my life. I hate my life and I hate myself. I hate the world and I hate my job. I hate my boyfriend and I hate my family. Shit is FUCKED right now.
Paid a bunch of money to fix my car, which is a beater. I've gotten ZERO feedback at work, in fact my "manager" is tip toeing around and avoiding me completely. I *was* feeling better about work but not currently - I'm questioning everything. I'm telling myself to keep this job, to hold onto it, FOR THE MONEY. It's alllll about the fucking money, all the fucking time. Everywhere you look. Everything you see. All of what you hear about. It all comes down to money. Money is truly the root of all evil and I'm trapped in hell.
It's Friday night and I skipped lunch. I have a glass worth of wine left in the bottle so I'm slamming that on an empty stomach. Then I'll switch to whiskey. Anything to punish myself. Anything to cope.
I haven't heard from my mom in 8 days and I haven't heard from my dad in 2 months.
Fuck them. They're practically dead to me. And of course I feel horrible saying that. What kind of daughter am I? How ungrateful. How horrific of me to loathe the people who have spent my entire life ignoring me and downplaying who I really am such that these days I have no fucking clue who I am. I'm just angry.
My boyfriend tries, he really does. I don't know how hard he tries but I would never say he doesn't make an effort. The problem is that nothing he says or does will ever help fill the hole inside me. Nothing he can do to wake the dead. The dead hole that lives in my soul. My brain is the enemy, my heart is a child. My soul I feel detached from.
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A half hour later. I feel buzzed. The wine is gone. Still haven't ate. Thinking about making a whiskey drink. I feel slightly "better" in that my mood isn't as rageful.
What the fuck am I going to do tonight? Probably nothing.
I'm such a loser.
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