I hate this. I hate everything about everywhere I am.
I hate my job, I hate my house, I hate my mother.
She finds ways to make me feel useless and a failure.
I shouldn't still be feeling this way.

Hours.

I should probably start blogging again, it might help me sleep again.
But I now have something to look forward to, a chance to start over.
For some reason, I thought this didn't exist, that there was no way  that I could make something of myself.

I've been fighting severe depression, and the thought of who would take care of my hamster has kept me afloat more then once. I never thought that such simple, little things, could keep me breathing. When nothing feels alright, or nearly okay, waking up is the hardest part, and realizing that for those few hours that I actually managed to fall asleep, were better then anything when my eyes are open.

Maybe I could start sleeping again. I've been thinking far too much. I can only stare outside the window for so many hours before everything starts to feel unreal, and everything feels so far away.

Maybe for once, if I got to start over, everything could be okay again, and I could finally stop thinking.