Again

This is probably going to sound like almost all my entries, but I’m sad tonight. I hate feeling like this and it seems the more I try not to, the more I am.

Ending things has been on my mind. Not constipation, just being done with it all. I tired of being alone. I had someone reach out a while back, but I think I became to dependant on talking with them that I burnt them out from listening.

Needless to say, they don’t talk to me much anymore.

Trying to find the happy medium hasn’t been easy. I try to look at a day as a day, but pressures build up and I’m back to panic mode. Time will not slow down.

I’m afraid of being alone. I don’t enjoy it like others do. It hurts to call out to people and never get answered.