i am going to take this opportunity to bitch and moan even more than i already have.

basically, i really just want to not live. and i am not just saying this to get attention, so that people feel bad for me, but i really just don't understand why i bother to get up every morning. everything is such a drag. every day is like such a chore, going to school, coming home, wasting my time online, going to a job i hate, having no one there. there is nothing. i feel like i am not the same person that i used to be. like i have lost a part of it, it's floating around somewhere, the part that used to care about things.

joe dumped me because i am disgusting and worthless. let's not beat around the bush. i am disgusting. i have nothing to offer anyone, and i don't blame him for doing what he did. anyone would have done the same. and everyone is like, ooh you can get another boyfriend. no i can't. there was a time this year when i was going to the pyschologist that i felt good about myself. there was a time when i had confidence, when i was sure all those thoughts were going away. but now they have all come back, and they haunt me, i think about them all the time, i always have a headache, they are always there. every single second of the day, i think about how i look. i look at all the other skinny girls and think, if i was like that, i would be happy. if i looked better, guys would like me. but i look like crap. i just really hate waking up and having to think the things i think. and no one fucking understands, which is why i bitch about it here. because now everything is starting over again. i don't want it to but it is. the obsession with looking perfect, thinking about how i'm going to die, checking the mirror every 5 seconds, it's starting all over again. and it's not going to go away, and i really, really don't want to have to deal with it anymore. i just can't think of anything that is worth living for. seriously. i was looking forward to going to the prom and going to the shore. but i don't have that. all i am going to do is work this summer, while everyone else is out having a good time. i would never actually kill myself, but i just hope for things to kill me. like when i'm in the car, i hope i will get into an accident. tomrorow when i smoke pot, i hope there is something in it that makes me die. or that one day my heart will just stop and that will be it. at work when i cleaning the dining room and i have time to think to myself, i think about who would come to the funeral. i am formulating a list. so far i have my family and my three friends. but whatever. i'm gonna go.