The complete bottom has fallen out of my life.

Sometimes fantasies are better than life.

They have accepted me as an individual, as a personality, as an entity. I belong! I am important! I am somebody!

Alone. The saddest word in the world.

This morning when I left Mom's parting words were, Come straight home after school. Wow! Like I'm going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn't sound so bad at that.

They don’t think “I care,” “I hurt,” or “I have feelings.” It just seems like I’m always “wrong,” always “selfish,” always “self-centered” and everything else that’s negative and destructive.

Why is life so difficult? Why can't we be just ourselves and have everyone accept us the way we are?

It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me? Even my parents treat me like I'm stupid and inferior and ever short. I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.

I can't believe that I changed so little. I expected to look old and hollow and gray, but I guess it's only me on the inside that has shriveled and deteriorated.

Maybe the new me will be different.

Lying - remembering beauty in truth.

I'm not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I've gotten from books.

My biggest mistake: not wanting to help myself into thinking I am happy, that change would come about without really trying to change, or wanting to change. Procrastinating about changing. I do want to change.

I’ve got to sleep. Sleep is my only way to escape.

How can thoughts hurt so much when they aren't even physical?