This blog is designed for me to vent instead of fucking sticking a knife into myself. Which I have considered. Believe me.  But since I make everything difficult, I couldn't even successfully commit to the action of simply acting on my emotions. That would have ended it for once and for all. Instead, I think I'll suffer some more.

Do I own suffering or does suffering own me? Clearly, suffering has come to own me. It's been so long since I've enjoyed. So long since I've felt really loved. So long since I've felt really accepted. So long since I've felt great.

Everything these days seems to be one exhausting effort, sprinkled with disappointing endings, followed by yet another. That's how I've been rolling.

I've tried anti-depressants.  They must be fake. Because they do shit. Nothing.
I've tried exercise. It's ok, it's good, it staves off depression for the time I'm doing it, to a few hours afterwards.  Otherwise, nope.

I've tried to believe in Jesus and believe that Jesus will turn around my life and attitude and give me what I know I deserve in life, love, love love love. But don't have. So far, that's pretty hard to keep up, considering I am a nice, Jewish girl from CT. But I WANT to believe.

The only thing I can dream of is ending it.