If I reach out, will you take my filthy hand..?

I keep thinking I should do somthing about my slowly worsening mental state. Try and make myself a better person – so to speak. Try and live a normal happy life…

But I guess there lies the problem of that plan… I’m not particularly normal and I spend far to much time – for my own good – making myself unhappy. I guess it would be easier to resign myself to the person I am and just live out my life, as a miserable freak. I mean I don’t see myself as being classified as the norm, but then I don’t think I’m particular an interesting abnormal, more like the type that people like to brush under the rug, as just another one of them and I let them, because it means that they don’t see how messed up I am.

God, I could never talk to anyone in my life about this shit… I’ve been wishing for a… knight in shinning in amour – I guess you could call them. Just someone to save me. But why should anyone give a damn, when I won’t even try and save myself, I shouldn’t be playing the damsel in distress, I shoud be stronger than that.

Any ways today has been a pretty normal day. I promised I’d work tomorrow, so I have to pluck up the courage and ask for the 26-27th of December off, so I don’t have to spend Christmas alone this year.


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