Anxious, nervous, self-conscious, weird in that "maybe I should see a doctor about this" kind of way but also in an "uninsured, don't wanna depend on drugs for social interaction, too proud to get help, maybe I'm overreacting" kind of way. Constantly lying to myself that I am totally happy with how I'm living my life while simultaneously hating my job, lack of motivation, and jealousy toward people who are supposed to be my friends. I have a special talent for allowing my heart to become irreparably broken by boys that have never seen me naked. Annually, I get naked with boys who don't treat me well and have substance abuse issues. We awkwardly dance around my sexual dysfunction and I become a crazy, defensive monster who tries to be cool while she quietly implodes. We never speak again. Put an unattainable boy on a god-like pedestal. He thinks I am joking when I propose marriage (or is probably just being polite because... well, you are reading this). Trust issues abound, I constantly fear that I am being used, misled, and deceived by people who claim to care about me. Worry that I am disappointing my family with my boring, meaningless life. Feel shitty. Feel shittier for allowing myself to feel shitty. Talk to friends about it. Feel shittier for burdening friends with my self-centered, trite bullshit. Write pathetic blog posts like this one. Feel shittier for being the kind of person who whines about her life on the internet. Fuck. Curse too much. Listen to a lot of sad, quiet music. Go to shows because it used to be so fun when I was younger and I just keep hoping that it will be again. Feel old. Go to things alone as a "fuck you" to couples culture or because I am too scared to get turned down by friends or because I have been ditched. Feel shitty. Fresh air would do me good. Long to throw a baseball, catch a frisbee. The thought of contacting someone to join me and their possible rejection is too much to deal with. Maybe I will just stay in tonight. Check my phone, email, facebook, twitter, tumblr hundreds of times as if refreshing them is going to make correspondence appear. Consider deleting all of them and moving to a shack in the mountains or back in with my parents. Make little bargains with myself about my diet and my behaviors because those things are easy to control and my emotions are not. Lurk out Craigslist for potential friends (because romantic relationships are not things that people like me are meant to be a part of) but feel too scared to answer any posts, let alone post one. It would probably end up all scary and word-vomity like this anyway. I shouldn't spend the whole day in bed. I'm going to go clean my house now.