Dear readers,
If you're someone who reads this you're probably like "wow, she's alive!" or something along those lines. I've honestly considered deleting this account so many times, because it seems like all it is now for me is a reminder that I'm a terrible writer. And well, that might not even be true, those are just my personal feelings.
I mean what's the worth of a writer who never puts words on paper anymore? Or of words a writer never wants to be read? Perhaps that's when I stop being able to call myself a writer... Because I never write anymore... And a writer who doesn't write is just a person.
All I'm saying is that I'm in a tough spot, and I can't seem to get out of it. I mean, it you look at my life as an outside observer I seem fine, like everything is okay. Amazing boyfriend, nice family, good friends... but my health is crappie and my brain is worse.
I'm just waiting for the world to eat me up so I can cease to exist. I just want to drift through nothingness and not feel the pain or the sadness, or the fear of tomorrow...