Entry #0553
I’m a recovering heroin addict who is separated from his wife and child. All I want is my family back.
I’m a recovering heroin addict who is separated from his wife and child. All I want is my family back.
So what am I doing with my life besides wasting away? 19 year old drop out with a son. Not what I was expecting my life to turn into. I used to be a straight A student with amazing potential. How I lost it all is beyond me. Maybe I shouldn’t have started drinking. Maybe I shouldn’t have started experimenting with drugs. Maybe I should’ve waited until marriage to open up my legs. Damn, I mean I never thought I’d end up pregnant to the first person I ever had sex with (a person nine years my senior). I can’t believe that people who don’t know me see me as a young dumb slut. It hurts so bad because I know the truth. My life is hard. I’m not a bad person . I’m actually quite intelligent. I feel like it shouldn’t be this way. I feel like I’ve been somehow shorted. I’m so young and I feel stuck in a life that I don’t want to be living. I want someone to come rescue me from all of this but I know its not possible. I know I’m stuck for good. I’m tired of being alone with these thoughts. Ugh, at least death is inevitable. Just gotta wait my turn.
Last year I got involved with someone as my long term relationship began to fall apart. It didn’t go very far, we never “cheated,” just mild flirtations. When my relationship died, the flirtation and I got serious all too fast, and we ended up sleeping together. That night, he was smoking a cigarette while I curled up alone on the couch. He slept with his back to me, and in the freezing room I curled up against his back for warmth. The next morning he waited for me to leave. I felt so empty. When I got home, I took the hottest shower I’ve ever taken and tried to burn the smell of him off my skin. When I got out, I had one new text message:
“Hey, I had fun, but I think I’m going to get back with my ex-girlfriend. Sorry, we can just be friends.”
Everybody is someone. I’m a big hypocrite.
I try real hard to be a good person. Hopefully that makes a difference. If I had guts, I think I would be a lot of things. But some of them are not so good things to be. So, maybe I’ll just stay a scared-y cat with an inferiority complex. I spend a lot of my time wishing I were something else. One of them is an intellectual, another is a dinosaur. I should enjoy who I am, but most of the time, I’m too concerned about what I wish was happening that I displace myself from my own reality. Maybe it’s good for my imagination.
I used to wish I were dead a lot. But sometimes I’m so happy I’m alive that I cry.
I cheated on an online test I didn’t need to cheat on. I was caught and I’m afraid of the consequences that may come. I know I will regret this and feel guilty for this the rest of my life.
Reading a few of these journals, I realized that I have not kept in touch with anyone I went to college with. I graduated in 1977. I have such fond memories of Ann Arbor and all the people I knew there—how could I have left them all behind? How much richer would my life have been if I had kept in touch?
I loved this guy in high school for six years. It’s been four years since we graduated. I’m engaged now, but not to him. I have to admit that if this guy came to me and admitted that he loved me too, I’d leave my fiancé for him.
I loved this guy in high school for six years. Its been four years since we graduated. I’m engaged now, but not to him. I have to admit that if this guy came to me and admitted that he loved me too, I’d leave my fiance for him.
My father never really talked with his family. There were a lot of grudges.
Then one day my Aunt went missing. No one knew what had happened. Though she raised her son on her own and lived with her parents, she was happy. Her little son was her pride and joy. She wouldn’t have run away.
Five months later her body was found in a man’s basement.
We discovered that my Aunt met a man through a phone dating service. She really liked him and felt they might have a future together. They decided to meet. He took her to his home where he tried to steal her bank account card and such. When she put up a fight, he murdered her.
It’s been several years but I will always remember that I never told my Aunt I loved her.
I’ve never been the one to take initiative when it comes to relationships. Drunken hook-ups seem to be the easiest—liquid courage is such a truthful lie; it doesn’t make me feel more confident so much as if I’m drunk I can use it as an excuse in the morning.
It’s so hard to admit that you really like someone—that you’ve liked this someone forever, but because you’re so self-conscious and lacking some major self esteem you couldn’t go for it. I wish I had been able to just put myself out there because if I had then my best friend wouldn’t be getting married to someone that isn’t me.
I don’t even have to see him every day, even after months apart at college he can make me smile, make me laugh. He makes me feel comfortable with myself and I love every second that I’m with him.
Now I have to be happy for him, and I am happy for him, but so mad at myself. Maybe it still would have all turned out the same way, but maybe it could have been completely different.