I told myself after my suicide attempt, that I would give myself till 22 to fix my life. I haven't. I'm "better" I suppose, but not much has changed. I've made no new friends, I've still never dated anyone, I'm still fat, I still can't go to college. 

No one around me knows about this. I have friends who I assume care about me, and my family does too. I don't think I'll do another attempt, but I know I'm going to get very, very bad on that day. 

I'd give anything to have a partner so I can feel loved, so I could afford to move somewhere better than the place I'm in now. To be thin and not even adored for my appearance, but just average. 

The more I think about it, the more I'm like, why wait? Life isn't going to get much better. People say "you're only 22, itll get better!" but I've been told that since I was 15, and it hasn't. I think I've lost hope at this point. I just feel numb