Here's the deal. I hate my fucking life. If I ever sound bummed you get mad at me. I'm starting to think that if I killed myself people would just be angry with me. I'm not fucking obligated to be happy 100% of the time for your sake but as my best friends I had previously held the belief that you are, in fact, obligated to fucking ask me what's wrong or at least talk to me when I'm feeling down. Most of the day I just feel ashamed at what a pathetic fucking existence I lead. I don't want to get to know people because I'm embarrassed at the life I lead, if you could even call it a life. When I talk to new people I dread them figuring out what a loser I really am. I fucking sit at home wallowing in my eating disorder or I go out with friends who don't seem to like me very much, in groups that I never belong in. Or we go to shows and no one cares that it's a show, it's just an opportunity for you two to get hit on and for me to be completely ignored. I'm so full of fucking rage that I could just blow myself up. But you'd never know that. Because you never fucking ask. You never fucking act interested. Do you realize that I have shit going on? That my entire existence does not revolve around the short conversations we have every day? My friends don't fucking trust me. I don't even know who my friends are. If someone asked me who my friends were I would honestly have to change the subject because the real answer would be embarrassing. "Oh I'm friends with S and K, S doesn't have much time for me and K thinks I'm far too fucking ugly for her." I'm starting to think it's time to recover because this eating disorder has made me dig myself so far back in my mind that I don't even know how to relate to people anymore. Can I recover my mind while still starving my body? I want to start. I want to smile, but my face is so tired. And I'm broke. And no one ever wants to talk to me. I hate this fucking life but I'll make a strong attempt to be friendly and pleasant tonight. Fuck.