This whole month I've been questioning myself. Flickers of insecurity spark in every action I make. I don't know if it's the lingering PMS talking or just... me, but I feel... misplaced. Like I'm doing something wrong. Like I don't deserve to be appreciated, or like I'm not appreciated at all, to begin with. It's gnawing at my confidence, and I really can't do anything about it.

I force these thoughts out of my head, because frankly, they depress me and I just don't like being depressed. But sometimes they're stronger than my will, and eventually, it will sneak up on me as I lie awake on another sleepless night, and bombard me with endless theories, self-accusations, those "You do nothing right" and "What the hell do they see in you" and "You're not being a good girlfriend, best friend, or daughter." I try to shake these thoughts off and smile, but my smile is nervous, searching... Searching for something to convince me that Yes, you are loved. You are trusted, you are appreciated, you are welcomed. Yes, people do realize that you are putting an effort into making them happy, even if the attempts dont necessarily result in success. I've even caught myself fishing for compliments. I feel deserving of a few. But even when I receive them, I doubt their sincerity. I'm... drained of any positive energy.

It hurts to be this way. I can't stand searching for something to tell me these things. And not finding any proof of emotional reimbursement for my actions. I hate wondering "does he trust me?" "Does he love me?" "What do they think when they see me? Slut, whore, clown, fat?" "Why can't I find a way to let them know that I appreciate them, I trust them, love them with all my heart?"

"Am I a failure?"

They don't think that being optimistic takes work. Trying to forge a reasonable line in between reality and fantasy is incredibly stressing. I've decided to give up on trying to merge the two together peacefully and opted to be a pessimist... for what else is a pessimist, but a realistic optimist? But then your view of the world changes... instead of noticing the birds, the flowers, the scenery, you focus on that annoying, threatening bee that seems to be attracted to your ear. The sharp ends of the grass biting into your thigh. How that fresh-cut green smell gives you a headache. Intead you suddenly find yourself wanting a cigarette, even though you've tried so hard to get the nicotene out of your system. The sun hurts your eyes. The sound of people's voices annoy you. You just want to turn over, tell the world to kiss your ass, and drift off to a sleep... the kind of sleep where the world doesnt matter.... where alarm clocks and appointments and jobs don't exist.

Ah, the wonderful life of the pessimist.

How can I ask for stability, when I cannot relieve someone who is searching for the same? I am the car engine that is running on spit and bubble gum, tied together with duct tape and prayers. Exactly how far did you expect me to take you?

I wish I wasn't the type of person that someone tells to call back later, when they're in a better mood. I wish I was the person that they WOULD call so that I can MAKE them feel better. Alas, I have never been that person. I am only able to listen to your problems, I do not have the necessary ingredients to make your situation any less bitter.

I apologize. I will stop ranting now.