Yesterday I started a journal paper to write problems lately I rot.
I'm not very good run from the truth. I do not like the tone that I have for some years, too bipolar, it is not healthy. Every time I find it harder to change from happy to sad. Because I remember every time I said "Come, I'll I'll try and get, everything is fine "and did not. Each time I thought to myself I get sadder and sadder. Before, I had bouts of happiness, now see a bit vague and confusing. I know are there, is that this afternoon I'll pass it. That morning smile. And last, too. But I am not happy. Because I've been as stagnant. As I am more than happy and sad time instead of seeing everything from his side and I left in the sad and I see everything from there.
I am very angry to be so, it seems a cruel joke of Karma. By now I can only believe that the only shared hosts Karma, because I have a handful of friends @ s you deserve great things and does not reach them. But I see that evil will always return.
Well, the handwritten diary. Ion was a recommendation that is encouraging me everyday to move forward. The truth is that is very supportive and I thank you very much. The surprise yesterday when I opened the notebook by the bed had to write and it turns out more than 6 months did the same, putting on paper the things that bothered me. I was amused by a moment too soon I thought it helped me this time, but good. Like that time and also put on paper hand hurts me when I write, not if I get tense or that it may also be due to the lack of habit and because I used to write more faster computer, so I notice that the thoughts are too compared to my hand when I write and I have a fear of forgetting what was going to wear. My mind is always going to x1000, is a horror.
I started a topic that weighs me down a lot but without being martyred, but leads into so many problems that if I rot more, is what you have, which are all united. Then I spent the whole night with dreams a lot ... uncomfortable. Dreaming of my ex, a car-caravan pequeñiiiiiiiisimo, a house with many windows with shutters closed and board, was actually a small house really full of things and I was locked up with someone else, I wanted to look out the windows because it thought to fill all the water and drown me. Next up was rubbing bread with pate and almost stick it in their mouths (that bad. Another girl told me but I felt very bad about it. It was like a dummy I did not know about what I did ...
not Finally, I see everything so black and not like anything I have the truth. I want out of this shit already, such as that in some years has changed so much and so I've stuck? once had dreams, I was happy, responsible and hardworking. Now I just want to mourn if I use a pencil.
Worse, I see a lot of output.
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