I haven't published much lately. Its on purpose. Its not that I haven't been writing, its that what I have been writing is complete horse shit. Not that most everything I write isn't, but the past 2 weeks of drafts are just toilet paper. Horrible, horrible stuff. Truly.

I skim through this journal every once and a while and see where I've been heading or what insights I've stayed true to or where I've come up short. To be honest, this hole blog is bullshit. At least 90 percent sheer bullshit. I'll be honest when I say that I haven't stuck to one god damn thing that I've wrote about. Positive at least. And that makes me feel shitty. It makes me feel fake. Like I just want to put on a front like I'm doing really amazing shit when really I'm sitting on the couch with my dick in my hand. Then I realized that the majority of what I put out on these pages is what I'm hoping to receive someday. I dont know if I've ever claimed to have embraced anything FULLY or began to transition into a different mindset FULLY but I have wrote some nice ideas I guess. Have I held onto them? Nope. Not one bit. I guess most of these posts have been personal pep talks for me to not give up yet.

I tend to write quite a bit about trying to like myself, trying to understand who I am. All that nonsense. The reason why I say that shit so much is because I fucking hate myself. 110 percent. Theres not one thing that I really 'like' about myself. Physically, emotionally, anything. And every time I try to rationalize some good or at least acceptable quality, I tend to tune myself out. I've heard it all before. " Love yourself because you're all you got". "You gotta love yourself before you can love anyone else". Blah blah blah... none of that makes any difference. I still dont like waking up. I still dont enjoy being this person. I've turned all the mirrors in my house around because I'm straight sick of looking at myself. I'm not who I thought I was. I'm not a good person. I'm a waste of skin and on most days, the only time that I actually feel alive is when I'm asleep. And thats fucked up. I've gotten to the point where I've just accepted all of this. I hate on myself so much that I believe thats all I really deserve. And if no one else has seen me as useful or worthwhile, why the fuck should I? I'm not going to waste my time with all that positive hoop blah any more. I am this way. It's not changing.

Anyway, I dont have anything prolific or uplifting to share. Shocker, I know. I'm really on my last foot right now. Every day when I wake up, I spend a good hour thinking if I'm okay with killing myself yet or if I should just check myself into a psyche ward or googling toxic home remedies. Fucking morbid. I broke down last week while I was doing the dishes and told my dad that I dont know what to do anymore. I kept saying 'I got nothing'. Every time he'd ask me what I'm gonna do, that's all I'd say. I told him I have no quality of life anymore. I dont even try to leave the house. I've given up all forms of communication. I gave up on my job. On school. On working out. I stopped eating for a few days. I'm confused and broken and slowly giving up and I dont know what theres left to do.

I'm done crying and being a bitch about everything though. I understand that my story isn't different or worse than probably anyone else so I can't sit around crying about shit. All I can do is try to not let my toxic behavior effect anyone else. This year has sucked. And I've said this every fucking year since 2008. Exponentially, every year since has been the pits. I've gone through every obstacle, falling at every given moment and doing it without any grace or tact. Just falling face first into drugs or relationships or low self esteem or lower self esteem or whatever. I just flop through life like a fish out of water and I dont see a pond in sight so I'm about to just kick it where I'm at.