I've been thinking a lot lately about
Life.
I'm happy, I suppose. I'm pretty content. I just don't know sometimes though. I question why I am the way I am and why I don't try to fix it because I know it's wrong. I wonder why I lie so blatantly to myself and everyone around me.
During English one day, Achenbach said that online journals are for people who know nothing about compassion or love or real, deep emotions, good or bad. I find it insane how her lectures always related directly to my life, and this time I think she hit the nail right on the head. I'm too afraid to love anyone, even my own family. I'm terrified of losing anyone I'm close to so I shut myself up instead, pushing them away, not bothering to take the risk, hoping that maybe it will hurt less that way.
I can't think.