February 2011
It's hard for me to read my old journals.
I was more unhappy than ever in 8th grade. I had pages describing how much I hated myself. “I’m so disgusting, nobody is ever going to actually like me. I’m so ugly, I can’t stand myself.”
I had a note to my ‘future self’ and one of the lines was “You’re lucky to be alive because I want to be dead more than anything right now. Everyone would...
This is gonna be like I’m not a part of Facebook.
January 2011