As I was counting, I was simutaneously thinking. Thinking and counting do not coincide; 72...71...80...79... Hell, most of this entry was written lastnight in my head.

I want to live a single minute where my brain is silent, where I'm not analyzing to death every situation in my life. (Usually the conclusions I reach are negative ones). I use to treasure my thoughts, they were the only things that were truly mine. Now they are more of a curse.

I've been in denial for way too long. Something that's lived in my veins for the majority of my life just doesn't go away in a matter of months like I thought it could/did. Leaving R 4 years ago didn't fix the problem. He may have brought it to the surface but he was never the cause.

I write depressing entries because that is what I am and it's time to return to the pills, to return to my weekly half hour rendezvous with P. I stopped all that prematurely. I wasn't fixed and maybe I imagined that I was for the sake of everyone around me.

No one can honestly fake happiness, no one can pretend that every thing is peaches and cream and even if they could how long exactly can they pull it off before breaking? I managed 4 long years the second round. The first 11 or so. I may smile every now and then, laugh and joke around but that doesn't mean that inside I'm not screaming. A person's exterior is a very deceiving thing. It truly is a shell locking it's contents within the darkness.

The first positive thing I've done since I can remember I accomplished lastnight. I asked The Dork out. Baby steps, and even though my answer was no it still felt good that I took control, I did something cause I wanted to. I didn't put it off until tomorrow, I stopped waiting. All in all it reeked disaster. I'm as emotionally unavailable as he is.

Everything happens for a reason.