Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

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Because It Doesn't Make Sense

I realized that while at work I am all smiles, and combination cynical/sarcastic/happy/angry at school, inside I suffer from a mild depression.

I don't cry myself to sleep. I don't cry at all, ever. I don't victimize myself, either. But no matter what I do, no matter what I excel in, no matter how many awards I get, I will constantly tell myself I am a failure, that I will not amount to anything.

It doesn't make sense to me. I have a perfect boyfriend, the awesomest pets ever, super cool jobs in which I am more than excellent, I do extremely well in school, I have a super hot car, I am financially independent and well off... in summary, if you ignore the fact that I get sick a lot, my life is perfect. Then why each time I drive next to a truck, I wish for it to just smash into me, and run me off the bridge (if I happen to be on one). Why each night I hope I will not see the next morning?

And the sad part is, I don't feel I can tell my boyfriend about this, because if I don't understand why I'm going through this, he won't understand either... But I know that he knows I am suffering inside, and he's suffering because he doesn't know how to help me.

2:52 p.m. - February 04, 2007

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