Just don't know

I have a little mini-holiday and it feels as if my days are just pouring away and I am doing nothing. I had the cat as an excuse to not doing anything, but the cat was picked up yesterday, and even if I and M went to see a beautiful movie in town, I still feel this heavy dread.

I mean, I might as well be working if I feel this crap anyway.

Looked around for last minute trips, but if you're a single traveler it cost a fortune or two.

I just feel distressed and sad. I've been on somewhat of a higher note for a bit, and I don't know why these tides are coming over me over and over again. I am medicating, and I am trying my hardest.

I wish I had a man, and a house and a cat and grandchildren and that man would be one that wanted to be around me, not just one day a month or less, but every day. He'd be the one to take care of the rat-issue. He'd be that one who like talking and watching movies and reading books and just talk about it all, and who'd want to touch me. It was so long ago since I was touched by anyone apart from the occasional hugs from my mom.

Basically, I just don't want to be me anymore. I want to be pretty much anyone else. I look at the tramps sitting on that bench and being rowdie and I think to myself, yeah, but at least they have those others to hang with and to complain to and be obnoxious with.

That's how long I've sunk.

Please, Marianne, when I wake up in the morning, please try to be glad that I am me. But it's so damn hard.

Family who are happy and together together. Not alone. All married since their teens. All just plodding along all with their sorrows and griefs and they're happiness and joy, but all of them TOGETHER. They have that ONE singel person, who'd miss them if they weren't there for a day or two. No one would miss me, it could take weeks. I'd be well rotten once someone found me at last. Probably a neighbor would mention the smell to the landlord.

Yeah, so this is the life I have been given, and I am a stupid bitch for not being grateful.