I couldn't hate myself more than this. I keep hurting all these people. And I don't want to. I'm such, such a horrible person. If someone should disappear that someone is me. The way I'm feeling is almost indescribable. I hate that feeling. I hate living on my own. I used to think that going off and living on my own would make me face the world in a different way. That I would see things more clearly while being away from just about everyone who made my life hell. That I would become completely independent, I would start a new life. I would make new friends, new everything. I would just walk off and live everything behind. I enjoyed getting myself my own apartment. I even enjoyed working a little just to earn enough money to make it through the month. It kept my mind off things. My daily life became a routine: Wake up early, university, quick lunch, some walking around the streets -observing people-, work, then back home to study and sleep. It really kept my mind off things. Not for as long as I wanted it to. When I was back home and trying to sleep, it would all come back with me. Often I would wonder just what the hell I was doing, what the hell my life was about. I had made no friends, I have trouble socializing. I had zero life. I was lonely. I am lonely. I hate my life. That's the blantant truth. I hate waking up and finding no one around. I hate the feeling that I'm going to go back to an empty house. Yes, it's worse back home. But it's worse here too. I can't even clean this house anymore. I'm not motivated to do anything. I've always wanted to keep everything tidy and completely clean, but it's like my body can't handle anything anymore. I want to lie down. Just to lie down. I have no energy anymore. My legs aren't even strong enough to keep me standing anymore. I don't know why, it's just that way. Why is it that I have no energy to even move to the kitchen and wash the dishes after having cooked dinner for myself? It really is not that hard, but I keep thinking I'll fall down immediately if I get up. Sometimes I even think it's tiring to breathe. I hate seeing people around me having fun with each other. I've lost all my friends. And I hurt a lot of them. I'm the one to blame really. For how much longer will I have to wander around for no reason, only to come back to an empty home where I have nothing but the TV and the radio to keep me company? Oh, and probably the internet, too-. This feeling is killing me. And people just don't understand. Why would they, anyway? Really, all people love themselves the most deep inside. In the end you're asked to improve everything in your life on your own, be independant - throw away those feelings - stop being lonely - get out and live life. What if I just can't do that? I can't do that. I've done more than enough to try and make myself feel better. I ended up hurting people in the process. People say the meaning of life is to discover what makes you feel "complete", then you'll truly find happiness. Well, I'm so far from being complete, I haven't even found a single piece of me yet. No matter what I do and what I scream people will always think I can cope with things on my own after a while. Ha, I've tried, believe me I've tried. I went out there on my own, I entered a completely new world and went for the wild race, I forced myself to believe that it was going to be alright and I would feel happy for once in my life without it having to be one of my most annoying temporary mood swings, but it just didn't happen. All I know is that I can't make loneliness go away in any way. It's inside, it's outside. Outside goes for the times I'm walking outside and I see people being happy, or just when I notice that there's really no one beside me no matter how many people keep passing by. It's inside when I'm back home to express the feeling of it not being and "home". Because to me, home is supposed to be a place where you can hide from the rest of the world, somewhere you can feel safe. It's not that way for me anymore. I view home as something cold and unpleasant; reminder of my loneliness. I am unhappy. Always have been. I don't think I'm made for happiness. In fact, I don't even deserve it.