1. There’s a really, really high chance that one of my coworkers just asked me out. There’s also a really, really high chance he’s attractive, and yet I’m not attracted to him. Because I’m a shitty person who’s into another co-worker who probably doesn’t like me back. Because I suck. 
  2. But this isn’t to deny the fact that once, after several hefty mugs of wine too many, that this disinterested coworker didn’t ask me out to Panera Bread once, upon taking note of my Panera card hanging off my keyring. But he’s silly like that, always asking about my keys and keyrings and why I go to the places I go. Damn introspective analytical genius artist boy. 
  3. There’s also a really high chance I should go to university counseling. But this is what I get for being more up-front with myself, my feelings, and letting others in, right? At least I know people are there for me, which is oddly comforting because of how alone I always feel. 
  4. It’s also quite cloudy, with a super-high chance of multiple breakdowns in one day; over the phone, over text message, in front of a friend. This guilt is eating at me. These feelings of inadequacy are gnawing at my insides, taking over my every feeling. I’m not really happy, but at least I’m making people aware of how unhappy I am? I don’t know. People probably think I’m a headcase. But putting on false pretenses has gotten old for me. 
  5. I think I’ve lost weight and I’m not even mad. 
  6. I’ve definitely gotten checked out at the DC’s and in the library and at other places on campus. Which is like, nice and all, but I really wish my sad feelings didn’t inhibit me from actually feeling hot/sexiii/powerful/FIERCE. Because I just really believe that all the boys at my school are delusional and probably have really bad vision or are probably under the influence of too many drugs to actually discern who’s attractive and who isn’t. 
  7. I’m twenty. I’m a virgin. I feel like this is inhibiting me from feeling confident around boys. I also feel like this should change soon, and I should overcome my lack of sexual confidence and come to terms with the fact that by fearing having sex due to my lack of experience, I’m literally quarantining myself into celibacy until an age where it’s starting to get awkward.
  8. But also the concept of STD’s and birth control are scary?????????
  9. I’m going home this weekend because self-loathing and anxiety have gotten the worst of me, but I also feel like home is a trigger for said feelings. This fucking conondrum. 
  10. Also I really just want to go out and get drunk and make bad decisions because I was really well-behaved last weekend. 
  11. I have a microeconomics quiz tomorrow. Look at all the work I haven’t done! 
  12. Stress Relief tea is a godsend, as are all things lavender. 
  13. I don’t really know what’s good for myself until it’s way too late. 
  14. So yeah. i’m hungry and I want a bag of chips but it’s 12:57 am and my body will hate me tomorrow.
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I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I don’t understand how to make these sad feelings disappear. 

They feel like weights, giant dumbells, or something more… gruesome than dumbells; giant sacks of sand on each shoulder, big black bags brimming with grains upon grains of sand that weigh down my shoulders and my mind and my conscience and my entire self. Everything’s going well. Everything’s going splendid. I’ve finally found a major I love, settled into three wonderful social groups and am surrounded by wonderful people. I’ve got a great job that’s nixing my housing bill for the year, and replacing it with a killer stipend. Somehow, I even landed an internship with a top international labor rights organization that’s a mere five-minute drive from campus. Boys are into me. Boys. are. into. me. I’ve met the most amazing boy ever, and even though my hopes aren’t extremely high, we’re friends and that’s something too. I’m losing weight, shaping up, exercising more, eating less (or more of the right foods). I literally do not understand why I’m sad. 

But every day I just keep telling myself I’m a fuckup. A worthless piece-of-shit who’s never going to go anywhere, get a job, win over the heart of some actually worthwhile boy, get into law school. I’m just feeling worthless, almost like I want to die, but life’s alright too. I feel like I keep letting people down, that last year I set some sorts of expectations for the social butterfly I was supposed to be, and this year I came in with a fifty-pound bag of guilt hanging in my core, and it’s impossible to ever feel alright. I’m sorry, then. I’m sorry to a ton of people, for not being good enough, for not being outgoing or witty or funny enough anymore, for not being as smart as I sounded on paper, for not being that great at kissing or dancing or loving. I owe apologies left and right and it’s hurting me, I owe apologies to myself and I’m losing track of what for because there’s so many. So maybe this is rock bottom, feeling unwanted by my residents and friends and coworkers and classmates and boys and everyone else in the world. Maybe this is how it feels to be utterly and completely alone. Maybe I want to get out of being alone and don’t know how, because even when I’m surrounded by people, people who love me, people who I love, I still feel alone.