a year ago. cool. ive gotta write a paper. college happened. shit went down then back up. i went to jacksonville. i moved out, and its not so bad. i still want to cry a lot. and i still want to see a therapist. i just never do. dont want to pay for it want someone who will really listen to listen. idk whats wrong. ive got problems i know about. but i cant fix them i cant relax makes me think i should be the type of person who smokes pot just so they can be normal and unwound. so i wont always be so uptight and stressed out. jesus. ive got to go. ill pick this up again. maybe. theres so much here. i cant forget or let go. its the only journal i ever kept. and i had to stop because someone was afraid. well im not scared anymore. ill say what i want to myself.