I pity you, my old sorrowful journal. If you were a human, you would be miserable for all the terrible things that you hear. Though I am miserable myself. I have fallen into a spiral of self inflicted illness. I cannot sleep at night for my mind is filled with worries and concerns. But more so of guilt and loneliness. Therefor I drink instead. And then I wake up sore, my wounds normally aching. So I drink to ease the external pain. I realized just last night I hadn't eaten in several days. A friend had given me food, but I only ended up eating the pastry. I didn't care to try I guess.
Though fuck that. I shouldn't drive you into my own self misery. I was watching the sky earlier today. They were soft, and glowed in the setting sunlight. It reminded me of a few days when Gigglio-pants and I sat watching the sky. I don't think I could manage without him to be honest. He is the one friend that seems to make me actually smile anymore. I feel safe when I am with him, even though I am almost never safe. He almost reminds me of my older brother, Wylie. As a kid, Wylie was the only one to protect me.
Have I ever told you about my childhood? I almost always felt helpless, belittled. I never had the power to defend myself from my father's rage. If I got mud on my dress, I could almost always be sure to have it covered with my blood. I married Cayden for he made me feel safe, but it was my fault he died. If I had been a proper lady and left Cayden alone as let him fall in love with a better woman, he would still be alive.
Oh, look at me go off again. I try to be happy and it never works out. What am I to do, my journal? Perhaps if I continue on this path, life will finally be kind and let me die. But I'm not lucky enough for that.
