Really sick of getting upset over things that happen on Facebook. There's just so many things I want to say about it but what's the point? I can blatantly write on his wall, he wouldn't respond until I ask him about it, But he can reply to people so quickly when they message him. Sick of always having to worry why he's deleting conversations. I hate Facebook, I honestly do. He can like and comment on other people's posts, but didn't even realize when I deactivated my account the last time. I give up, I really do. No more.

This just makes me sad. I really envy girls who get to do that. I don't even know why I tried to ask or bring it up. Because I knew exactly what would be said. From the beginning I've always been the suffer in silence kind of person. In recent years that has changed, but I think some things are still better kept to myself. It's for the exact same reasons as the past. Voicing things out didn't get me what I wished, didn't solve anything, only brought me the disappointment I knew I'd get. It's much simpler if I kept it to myself, feel sad and disappointed on my own, and get over it until the next time the situation surfaces. At least I wouldn't have to face the reality of the disappointment if it's just in head. I will smile like I always do.

I think when it comes to relationships it's so easy to complain when things don't go well, but we always forget to be thankful for the happy moments. Since B's been away for twelve days, well it's not twelve days yet he'll be back on Sunday night, I've been missing him a lot. I feel really thankful for our relationship and our love for each other because I hear of relationships around me or even on social media, and somehow they make me realise just how blessed I am for B and what we have. It's very easy to give up on someone or a relationship. After all it's human instinct to get away when things don't look good. But nobody is perfect, there's never going to be someone who's completely perfect. It is hard to find someone who loves you the way you want to be loved, or who loves you more than that. I did and I am beyond thankful for that. It makes me feel sheepish saying all of this but I believe in counting my blessings. B and I don't have a perfect relationship because we're not perfect people. But when you can feel perfectly blissful in an imperfect place, you know it's where you're meant to be.

I feel awful. Physically, mentally, emotionally. At first when I started purging I didn't think it was a big deal. I don't even do it often, or so I think. Over the past two months I've probably only purged four times. But I feel that it's beginning to affect me more than I thought it would. Initially I just saw it as an easy release. I just ate too much at one go and I felt guilty, I didn't want all those calories in my body so that's what I did. I didn't think much of it. I always have the desire to eat, but I thought I was always like that so it wasn't a problem. But now I know it's not normal. And purging has caused me to lose interest in so many things. I feel awful, I don't like my body, I don't feel confident, I don't want to see anyone, I don't want to step out of the house, I don't even feel like having sex. I didn't know why I suddenly felt that way. Until a few minutes ago when I googled purging and low sexual desires and apparently there really is a link. That explains everything I've been feeling for the past month. Now I feel even more awful. I'm starting to feel scared. I want to say I can control my appetite and I wanna say I can convince myself not to purge, but the last couple of times I tried I didn't succeed. Somehow I tell myself "It's okay, just do it. No big deal." Until now I've realized how much it's been affecting me physically that I'm scared. I'm scared because I don't know what to do. I'm not sick I don't have bulimia! I don't. I don't even do it regularly. So I'm not, right? I want to feel happy again. I want to feel normal. I don't like how I'm feeling recently. I just don't know what to do..

Miserable. I feel miserable. Twelve days. It isn't a long time in theory but when you're waiting for something twelve days is a long time. B's on the plane now. Probably sleeping. I miss him so badly and thinking about the following twelve days makes me panic a little. I really wish I could go to bed, wake up and have it be next Tuesday. At least five days feel a little less scary. Then I would go to bed, wake up and have it be next Sunday already. I wish I could go to bed and only wake up next Sunday to be honest. It's strange because twelve days isn't the longest time we've had to be apart. I think the longest was about sixteen or seventeen days. But I wasn't even so upset then. Maybe it's because that seventeen days wasn't anybody's choice, we could only go along with it because it had to be done. But these twelve days is different. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I feel left behind. I really feel left behind. I can't help but resent this. Resent everybody. I hate this. This is difficult for me. Nobody understands it. Not even him. To everybody else twelve days is just a few days, just a short period of time. But nobody sees that he's all the support I have. He's one of the two reasons I get out of bed everyday. The other reason being Patchie. But he's my pillar of support. These twelve days are a holiday to him. But for me it feels crippling. Nobody will ever understand how I feel. Now I feel like he's left me here while he goes to enjoy somewhere else. I can't help but resent that. I can't help but feel helpless. I try not to think about it but what do I do now? Nothing makes me feel better. I just want him to come back so everything can be okay again. I know it's selfish of me but I really don't know what to do without him. Feel like just keeping myself at home because I feel so depressed. I can't help it. Being alone has always been how I deal with things when I'm upset. Going out just emphasizes how lonely I feel, because I won't be going out with him and going home alone is something I dread so much, especially when it's dark outside after evenings. It's just difficult for me to deal with things on my own..

I hate myself when I have to stick my finger down my throat. It feels terrible and it makes me look like a mess with my eyes tearing, nose running and a sore jaw.
I don't do it very much, only when I binge snack which makes me feel horrible. I don't want to get fat.
I have a phobia of gaining weight. I know I'm not fat but somehow in my head I think my legs look fat.
Maybe they do. I'm just scared of being fat.
Somedays I binge eat. Today was one of them. I just couldn't stop eating. I ate so much. I just had to get it out of me or I'll think I'll get fat.
Why do I eat so much? I just want to be skinny. This depresses me.

Note to self: Seems like I've gone a bit too far tonight. I was about to go to bed so I went to the toilet and when I looked into the mirror, to my horror there are little red specks around my eyes! I thought they were because of my recent change in face wash and efforts in using a moisturizer every night, but after some googling it turns out those little red specks are broken blood vessels caused by the force of throwing up. I don't know whether or not to feel relieved that my skin is fine or to feel horrified that I did this to myself. Please stop. Oh dear. I'm going to get into so much trouble if B finds out :/ >.< :"(

It's 5am and I'm awake, dealing with myself.
I think best at night, but it's not always a good thing.

I don't talk about my feelings a lot. Even to B.
Maybe because nobody asks. I don't feel like anybody is interested to find out how I'm doing inside.
A lot of things make me happy. But a lot of things make me sad.
And when it comes to feelings, many people don't understand.
Happy things don't take the sad things away.
You can't just tell someone that her sadness is uncalled for when she has so many happy things in life.
Happy things are good. They make you smile, they make you feel blessed.
But one thing they don't do is take your sadness away.
It's not a war between happiness and sadness.
I think it's more like the sun and moon.
They both happen, they both make you feel different things.
But they don't outweigh each other. They just.. Exist.

It's April. And all my life there's only one thing I think about when April rolls around the corner.
My birthday. But this year, how I wish it wouldn't come.
I wish April hadn't come. I wish my birthday wouldn't come.
23 more days. What am I going to do?
I truly feel like nobody cares. I hide how I feel because I just can't face it.
I know there's no point expressing how I feel.
I already know what's going to be said to me. And all I can say it, none of it makes me feel better.
None of it will make me feel better. NONE.

Almost two weeks. Funny how emotions create different perspectives. 23 days seem really fast when you're dreading it. But almost two weeks seem like it's a terribly long time to have to go through.
Whenever I think of it I feel a little panic growing in my heart. I literally feel it physically.
I push it away everyday. But I know I can't run away from it.
As the day gets closer I feel all the more dreadful.

What's the point though? Nobody asks how I feel about it. Nobody wants to know.
Not even B. He's just avoiding it. I know. When the time comes he's just going to say that time will past really quickly, he'll text me, he'll call me, he'll see what he can buy for me.
Screw that. I don't want any of that. I'd rather he not leave and not get anything.
Again, none of that makes me feel better. So why do I bother pretending to accepting what he'll say? Why do I bother nodding and saying okay? Because it's easier that way, isn't it? Take it in, keep it in, at least one of us will be happy.
Is there a point in me showing how upset I am? He'll say why would you be like that when I'm about to go? I'm about to leave for almost two weeks and is this how you want me to leave when you're unhappy? It's all a lie, really. Even if I don't show it he knows it. He just doesn't care to know how bad it is.
At the end of the day it'll all get brushed aside. He'll happily go and I'll be here. Stuck with myself. Being upset. Nobody said life was fair. I can only keep it in.

I don't cry in front of my parents. A lot of the things they say and do hurt me. They don't do it intentionally. They just don't consider my feelings. I keep it all in too. I don't tell anyone about it. Only the person who caused a pain can fix that pain. That's what I've learned. You can't fix what someone else caused. You can only do your best to treat it. Treating isn't curing.

What happens to people who keep everything in and don't ever let it out? I don't ever blow up on my parents. I think that's a miracle on its own huh? I just keep telling myself, 'just get used to it.' The things is, I should have gotten used to it by now. But I'm not. Every single day it hurts. And every single day I give myself a pained smile and say, 'It's okay.' It's not okay. I know inside that it's not okay. I'm not okay. Nothing is okay.

As the days go by I just wonder. What happens to people like me? Really. What happens to people like me? I just want to lead an average life and be.. Less sad. I don't even dare to use the word 'happy' anymore. I would like to happy. But nobody is always happy. I just want to have nothing to have to keep in. I don't want to hide so many things inside. But I don't have a choice. I wish I had help. But nobody can. You can't fix what someone else broke.
Nobody said life was fair. But nobody said life was this unfair.

Why me? Am I the problem? Do I deserve all this? Perhaps I do. Why else would nobody care enough to help understand my feelings? Maybe I deserve to be like this. To secretly cry myself to sleep, wake up and tell myself, "It's okay" for another day and put on smiles for everyone?

Some nights, when I allow myself to, I cry.
When I'm alone and I cry, I don't have to be afraid anyone would see or hear me.
I'll let everything I've been keeping inside out, and cry and cry.
But no matter how much I cry, how hard I cry, how much tears I shed, the pain never goes away.
The pain is always there. Always reminding me cruelly of the emotionally hole in my heart.
In my heart I know, nobody and nothing can ever possibly make up for your absence.
Nothing takes the hurt away.

But crying makes me tired. Really tired. I'd always fall asleep right after, even though I'd be bothered by tons of snot and a blocked nose. And potentially a migraine.

Tonight I'm tired. Very snotty and I've got a migraine. But this pain in my heart, it just won't go away.

Sick of hearing about people going overseas.
Yes, yes you say that I was the one who chose not to go.
So what's the point in me saying anything? Nobody would understand.

I chose not to go because not only did I not want to leave Patchie behind,
But I also didnt want to leave him behind.

But now it seems like I'm the only one who cares to do that.
I don't want to leave anyone behind but everyone leaves ME behind.

Sick of hearing people plan for their trips. Sick of people yabbering on about how their trip went. Sick of hearing people tell me about where they're planning to go. Sick of hearing how excited they are. Sick of this shit.

I guess to everyone else my feelings are either insignificant or non-existent.

Two weeks. Hurray.

13 days.. 13 days is a long time to be left behind.
Everyone else gets to go somewhere and I'm just getting left behind here.
I don't even know why I'm sad. It's not like I'm scared or worried.
Maybe it's the thought that he could actually be happy somewhere without me that scares me..
Maybe it's because I don't get to go along.
Maybe this is just the feeling of getting left behind.
I don't really know. I'm just sad. Really sad.

Thinking about the future scares me.
Who knows what could happen when he starts school?
I didn't know what could happen when I started school years ago.
And yet this happened and the worst part of it all is I'm thankful this happened because I love B.
I'm so afraid of losing him to someone else.
If that happens I'll really get left behind.
Left behind in the past, left behind in memories, left behind in everything..
The fact that I see the world as a cruel place where unpredictable things happen that snatch my loved ones away is scary. Where is God in this?
It almost feels like this world relishes in the joy of taking things from people and sending misery straight into the depths of our hearts. Where is God in this?

I think the most cruel part of it all is having to put a smile on my face because I don't feel like I'm allowed to wallow in all this despair.
Having to smile and nod when inside no matter what is said to me, even with the best intentions, I know will not make me feel better. Or not for long anyway.

Sometimes you just get used to a certain kind of sadness.