Do you ever think that your parents don't really have a lot of faith in your abilities and just hope that you marry well? I do. It's kind of funny. I spend so much of my time worrying about what my dad will think and he really doesn't care. I think the main reason he insisted I go to college is so I could meet a guy who will have a decent job and not marry a mechanic. Maybe that's how I should look at school: The ultimate singles dance. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Today started out pretty good. I got some stuff done, got nauseous because I'm on antibiotics (sinus infection), and then got a really bad vibe from on online friend which really hurt my feelings. I hate that. I'm so emotional. One second I'm on the highest mountain, the next I'm jumping off it. When will this insanity stop? All I have is this damn diary. I could speak to real people about this but they wouldn't hear me. I'm tired of being pathetic. No, I'm not just pathetic, I'm secretely pathetic, which is worse. People act like nothing is wrong. I just want to scream: "Can't you see I'm drowning?". But they don't see me and they don't hear me. It's rejection. This is who I am. I'm going to go to sleep tonight after tossing and turning, after agonizing about perceptions and the future and myself. I'm no longer going to promise myself that I'll get better. It's a stupid promise. Lying to myself is the one thing that I won't do. I am messed up. I can't even stand to look at myself anymore. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And I'm irritated with Scott (the owner/runner of sitD). He's turned the main page into an ad for "Wife Swap". This used to be a really cool place to be. Now you might get asked to leave or to censor yourself because 13 year olds might see your diary. It's incredibly ignorant and makes me sad. It seems like the world changes so fast now. A place you used to feel was home can turn into a hill billy trailer park in an instant.