Sorry about using my blog as an actual journal lately, to the few who read this - but I really need it right now. So bear with me.

I just need a place where no one is going to tell me that I'm not actually suffering and that it's in my head. I really, really, really just need a place to constantly vent all of this emotion because it's otherwise told to stay away from the public eye. At least until my time in the "we care about you" line comes.
"Other people have worse problems than you. You have to help them first. Then worry about yourself."
Sobbing on the kitchen floor is not a way I want to spend my Friday nights, honestly.
"Shut up. They're crying louder than you. Stop whining."
I feel very worthless today. I try to help those with problems like mine but I get told that I have no idea what they are going through and then reminded, quite thoughtfully, just how unhelpful I am. It's slowly killing me.
And I can't really talk about problems because, when I've spoken them, I've already started into my "helping" mode and am consoling myself (or trying to - I hear I'm bad at it) and, before the other person knows it, I've put on a smile and they have nothing to do. That's what I do. That's the last trace of my shyness. Always smiling. Rarely happy. Lately at least. Ha. That's not true, really. It mostly just applies to when I'm home. It's a toxic environment right now.
I feel split. I don't know if that's something that other people can really see but I'm pretty sure people who see me most of the time can at least vaguely tell that something is up. Marr, I think you stumbled on this yesterday when you commented that "something was bothering me". I don't think I'm schizophrenic or anything like that. I don't hear voices. That's the problem. I don't have anyone talk to because they're all helping someone else. Or I'm helping them. Or they just don't care. Or they just don't know how to deal with real life. Or those who have good intentions but can't help because there is something better on television. It's a lot of things. I can't fault anyone. Not even myself, this time. We're all dealing with our own little issues and we'll all maybe shed a lot of tears over them but perhaps that's life.
Hey, look at that - I'm doing it again. Self-consoling. Does it ever work? Why do I keep doing it?
I don't want people to think of me as unstable. I don't want people to stop respecting me because, in my mind, I really have very little to offer the world - intelligence and creativity lead to respect. Respect goes a long way in keeping my sanity. I'm not generally likeable. I give bad advice. I'm. Just. Not. Right. I get reminded of that on a daily basis, even by those who supposedly don't hate me.

It never ends, does it?
-Daisy.