April 21st, 2019:
I'm quite disconnected. I used to feel like I was surrounded by people and could never get away. Now it's like the people I know look right through me unless they think they can use me for something.
Let's not beat around the bush. I let people walk all over me. And, honestly, I know why-- it's a form of self-destruction. I choose people that don't give a shit about me. Every time they use me as a therapist, every time I save one of them from suicide, every time I'm forced to roll up my sleeves and clean up their mess, every time I put my problems on the back burner, every time they tell me I'm not enough despite all that, every time I say I'm fine when I'm not, the masochist way deep in my brain gets a high from it.
Sometimes I wish they would just hit me.
I probably deserve it anyways.