Jan 042012
 

I am fascinated with the human mind. Perhaps because I am constantly aware of many of my short-comings, but can never seem to overcome them. In my head, I know what needs to be done, I just don’t seem to follow through. Or I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop myself from investing in people despite no considerable gains. I can’t stop myself from being an asshole despite knowing that I am indeed an asshole [and therefor should not put myself in more┬ápositions┬áto be one]. I can’t stop myself from having to have the truth out there despite knowing that I sound like a child. I can’t stop myself from sounding like a moron despite knowing I in fact sound like a moron. No BS; I sound so stupid sometimes that I just have to stop mid-stupidity just to stop from beating myself up mentally over sounding so stupid.
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Jan 022012
 

I started the New Year reading. Meds help. I can read more easily, but what I really missed was the fact that I was losing my ability to ‘grasp’ anything anymore. It seems to be coming back. Meds help.

My childhood was not the best; it was not the worst, but it sucked more often than not.

I was an emotional wreck in High School and for a few years after High School because it hurt that I had to go back into Foster Care because the damn system couldn’t place me with a nice family to begin with. I felt robbed. Like no one cared to begin with, and they certainly didn’t care to fix their mistake.

This was true, of course, for both my adopted parents and the ‘system’ in my eyes.
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Oct 052011
 

My problem is not that I am depressed with things I cannot have or things that will never be. It’s that I’m depressed with things that are. I don’t like where I am and I don’t like having regrets.

I regret leaving home, I regret not focusing more on my studies in school, I regret sacrificing for others, I regret missed opportunities, and I regret not acting on my feelings given the chance. I regret making my cousin lie when I was 12! I regret that I didn’t stop by my grandma’s room when I was allowed to go into my room and get some more of my things when I was in foster care. I regret secluding myself from one foster family that was really nice; though I loved being with them, they thought I didn’t want to be there and moved me again.
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