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Life's Mistakes, Regrets, and Lost Friends.

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I actually don't normally write journals but, well it's probably time to start doing so I guess. At the very least, if all else fails and I do something drastic maybe someone will be reading this while I am gone, and will have at least left some sort of mark on this little blue marble, called earth.

There are many mistakes I have made in life. Many regrets that I have that weigh on me daily. I suffer greatly from depression and borderline personality disorder. I also never made it well known in the past publicly, like I am doing now, that I have also suffered much abuse nearly my entire life due to family. Being beaten, scolded, threatened, choked, teased, and mentally tortured. Nothing really has ever gone well in my life. Even today I really have nothing.

I don't actually know what I could have done differently. Maybe I shouldn't have involved myself with other people at all because I become so attached and have severe abandonment issues, that when they leave, it puts me into a spiral of depression and suicidal thoughts. It has even caused me to quit doing artwork entirely for nearly 4 years. Caused me to leave a community I probably actually quite enjoyed for a time. It's crazy how even after all these years I am still thinking about what I did wrong to lose such a friend.

The honest truth though is I am filled with anger and hate due to them. They destroyed me, and I often feel like they never really cared either. They abandoned me without even saying a word. I honestly, could never put into words how much such a thing hurts. However, I am glad to see things are working out for them at the very least, even if I am not included in their life. It does sting though. I am jealous.

I am desperately gasping for air as I drown in my own tears, growing tired and my muscles ache. There is no hand reaching out to me to grab onto. All I can do is struggle and hope land is within distance so I can stand on my own.

I am fighting. Giving it my all. I maybe at my limit, and I may want it to end now, but I have hope. Maybe by some miracle some one will actually reach their hand out, or maybe I will just make it out myself.

I don't know, this journal probably makes little to no sense. But ... it is what it is. I will probably write more later, and hopefully it's not all over the place.

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