I have no identity and no roots. I don't have any idea who I am anymore but did I even really know at all? I hate myself so much right now and I have absolutely no friends. I was told that if I put in the effort, then I would get it back, but every time I do, I get nothing. And it's exhausting. Why does she keep blowing me off? Why do I just do anything for her but get nothing back? I really needed someone. Anytime it's me that really needs it, no one is there, but I am there at the drop of a hat for anyone. Do they even consider me their friend or am I just a cog in their group? Someone to fill in the gaps in the conversation and plan their birthdays. Everything sucks.
This was the first empty notebook I could find. It's kind of satisfying to be fulfilling the writing fantasy in it. The look is very Ellis Grey's journals in Grey's Anatomy. I guess that's what this is now. A journal.
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Maybe Journaling Will Help
General FictionA reflective look into a person's most emotional moments through their journal. This story is not uplifting or enticing. It is raw and unfocused. It is painful and thought-provoking. This is the uncut view of moral, emotional, and identity conflict...
