I've found that at some point in life you just look back and count out everything wrong you did, and regret all of it. A day away from my "vacation" I find myself looking back yet again (it seems to be my new hobby) and feeling worse than ever. To be honest and true, I hardly find joy in my life anymore. I work, I sleep, I pretend to be a little more than alright in public. I don't cry, my insides just crawl with hate for myself, almost as if there was some strange creature squirming on my insides. My body screams and aches but I don't feel it over the cry of my mind and the turmoil it seems to be dragged through day in and out. I long for something to hold on to, but everything I touch feels fake, feels like cold plastic...people, animals, everything. It all disgusts me and makes my head hurt, like warmth has left my life. People make me nauseous, thinking about sex makes me cringe...I can hardly shake someone's hand, why on earth would I want to be in bed with someone? I want to cut myself, I wish I could...but not too long ago I told someone I wouldn't anymore.

But why? Why do I feel like this? There's nothing wrong in my life, I have enough to eat and I make enough money at my jobs to save. There should be no real reason for me to be like this... "Everything is always alright", as I say...

And yet I crave this feeling. I want to feel worse, I want to sink further and further until I don't exist anymore...I want to suffer more, I seem to feel I deserve it...and I don't know why. I seem to have become a glutton for mental torture, and that is far from alright...I think...